Capturing my memories
The frontier of loss
They try to escape across the street where
Jesus stripped bare
And raped the spirit he was supposed to nurture
In the name of my
In the name of my
( A shovel head is shown slowly dragging across grass. The moon isn't full, but it is still bright. The camera slowly pans up revealing the handle of the shovel and the back of the person dragging it. Clearly the person is Solomon Cain as his long hair falls down his shoulders, over his leather vest. In the back pocket of his dirty jeans is a bottle of Vodka and a black bandana.)
Born of a broken man, but not a broken man
Born of a broken man, never a broken man
Born of a broken man, but not a broken man
Born of a broken man, never a broken man
Meadow Lake Apartments
East Cleveland, OH
October 13th, 2002
Off Camera, flashback
("Where are they? Where the f**k are they?" A frantic teenage Solomon Cain says loudly as he pulls his dresser drawers open and quickly moves his raggedy clothes around as he searches for something. "F**K!", Solomon shouts.
Solomon, is dressed in a Cleveland Browns t-shirt, and torn jeans, his hair isn't as long as it is now, but clearly is being grown out as it is down past his ears. Solomon slams the drawer shut hard, making a loud bang and rocking everything on the top of the dresser.
Solomon storms out of his small bedroom into the living room, where his mother is passed out on the couch. She is half dressed, in a small nighty that is dirtier than the deeds she did the night before, and a bath robe that more resembles a bath mat.
Solomon is all to used to this site, his mother passed out from drinking, or pills, or heroin. Solomon looks at her, and shakes his head in both sadness and disappointment.
Solomon moves to the kitchen where he opens the refrigerator and grabs the last can of Milwaukees Best, and slams the door shut. He cracks the can open and begins drinking it in a angry fashion as he looks through the papers hung in the fridge with magnets, all he finds though are past due bills.
"F**K!" Solomon shouts again before chugging the rest of the beer down. Solomon sits the can down and begins to frantically search the kitchen for something. The sound wakes his mother from her drug and drink induced coma.
She pulls herself up to a sitting position on the couch, still half stoned she mumbles, "what in the hell are you doing?". Without stopping his search Solomon replies in an angry tone, "looking for my ticket to the game".
Solomon's mom pulls herself to her feet, and shuffles her way to the kitchen, still too in a haze to pick her feet up. She makes it to the counter where she has to hold on to keep her balance. "What game?", she asks.
Solomon, once again does not stop searching and says, "the Browns, the Cleveland browns ticket I won on the radio".
"Oh, I gave those ro Conrad a couple days ago." Solomon's mother replies, as she lights up a Doral cigarette. Conrad was one of her many dealers, he was the hydracodine hook up.
Solomon's shoulders drop, and his mother can tell his is disappointed and angry, but she didn't care, she needed her tabs. Solomon turns around and looks at his mother. "Did you trade my tickets for some f**king tabs?" he asks. Before she can respond Solomon continues, "you know I've been wanting to go to a game for years, and I finally get a chance and you piss that away for some f**king tabs? They weren't even your f**king tickets".
"Sorry, sh*t not like the Browns are gonna win anyway", she replies as she exhales her smoke. "AAAHHH F**K!" Solomon shouts as he storms out of the apartment. Solomon's mother doesn't feel remorse for her actions, at this point she is dead inside and feels nothing. She takes a drag of her Doral and grabs the can of Milwaukees Best Solomon had left on the counter. She goes to take a drink, and realizes the can is empty. In anger she throws the can across the kitchen saying, "little sh*t drank my last beer".
Like autumn leaves his sense fell from him
An empty glass of himself shattered somewhere within
His thoughts like a hundred moths
Trapped in a lampshade
Somewhere within
Their wings banging and burning
On through endless night
Forever awake he lies shaking and starving
Praying for someone to turn off the light
(The head of the shovel spikes into the ground, ripping through the manicured grass and slicing through the top soil. Solomon's boot stomps down on the large spade head of the shovel, driving it deeper into the ground. The handle is pushed down, forcing the head up and ripping the grass and excavating the dirt, which is tossed to the side.)
The Falcon Inn
South Chicago, IL
May 3rd, 2017
Off Camera, Flashback
(Solomon had been out of prison for three months now, and he had spent those three months hunting down his father Christian Cain, more popularly known as Outcast in the wrestling world. Solomon had not been able to find his father's home address, and Outcast had no social media presence at all. Outcast either took great lengths to stay off the grid, or he simply didn't try to be noticed anymore, either way he was not an easy man to find. His favorite bar though, well that had been easier to find.
The Falcon Inn, a dive bar in south Chicago, it's large, loud, dirty, and recently has been invaded by the vermin know as Hipsters. The Falcon Inn had recently started advertising on social media, and that is where Solomon spotted him. Photos from a Byzantine concert, there he was, Christian Cain front and center. This drove Solomon to comb through hundreds of photos from the Falcon Inn, and time and time again he spotted his father.
This is day four of Solomon sitting in the back of the bar and waiting to see his father walk in. The clock had alresdy struck midnight and the minutes kept ticking away, but Solomon was determined. As Solomon finished his Pabst Blue Ribbon he spotted him at the bar. Solomon's heart sunk, his stomach turned and began to feel nauseous. His mind began to race. What would he say, what would he do? Would he cuss him out? Would he walk up and punch him? Would he wrap his arms around him in an embracing hug?
Solomon needed another drink, and he settled for the last bit of backwash in his bottle. Solomon nervously sat the glass bottle on the table and began walking towards his father. It was something like an out of body experience, he couldn't believe he was doing this, he couldn't believe this moment had come.
As he walked closer, he found himself straightening up his appearance without even knowing it. Solomon had adjusted his shirt and brushed it off. He pulled off his beanie and ran his hand over his pulled back hair, smoothing down any wild hairs.
Finally he was there, at the bar right beside his father. Christian had a bottle of Miller High Life and two shots of whiskey in front of him. Christian quickly downed the two shots, not noticing his son beside him, not even noticing there was another person at all beside him. It wasn't until Christian grabbed his Miller and turned to be face to face with Solomon Cain, that he even noticed the man beside him.
Solomon froze, he felt like a little kid who has finally met their hero, he couldn't move, and he couldn't speak. Christian noticed Solomon's frozen state, but had no idea it was his son standing in front of him.
Christian starred at Solomon and took a long drink from his Miller. Solomon was frozen, and Christian was sizing him up. Christian finished his drink, and side stepped away from Solomon, and then began to walk away.
"Wait" is all Solomon was able to get out. Christian stopped and turned to look face to face with Solomon. Solomon wasn't able to get another word out. "What the f**k do you want?" Christian asked. "I... I... I'm..." is all Solomon managed to get out.
"I'm not taking trainees, I'm done with wrestling" Christian says. Solomon says nothing, and just shakes his head no. Christian takes another drink, wondering what this large man in front of him wants. "I'm... I'm your son." Solomon nervously says.
Christians face turns angry. "You think this sh*t is funny? My kids died ten years ago. What the f**k is wrong with you?" Christian asks.
Solomon shakes his head, "no my mother is " is all Solomon is able to get out. "F**k off before I kick your a$s" Christisn says, as he turns and heads into the crowd gathered for the rock show.
Solomon is unable to say anything as he is flattened by a wave of crushing depression.)
Born of a broken man, never a broken man
Born of a broken man, but not a broken man
Born of a broken man, never a broken man
Born of a broken man, but not a broken man
Unknown Location
September, 9th 2019
On Camera
(The shovel continues to dig, the hole is now wide, and over two feet deep. Solomon has taken off his vest, and it hangs at the top of the hole. In front of the vest, on the ground sits a bottle Vodka.
Solomon has begun to sweet, but he continues to dig deeper. He does not take his attention away from digging, and does not slow his pace, but begins to speak.)
Solomon Cain: Ricky Stanton, this showdown between you and I has been building for quite some time. I'm not referring to July twenty first, but instead I mean our whole lives. You couldn't find two people more opposite than you and I if you spent your whole life searching for them. You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you've had everything in your life handed to you, and you've never known what it is to struggle.
Me, I was born in the gutter, and raised in the mud. I've had to scrape and claw for everything I've ever got in my life, all I've ever known is the struggle and fighting. Our lives have been a night and day difference, and we are a true example of the haves and have nots.
I can honestly say though, that I wouldn't switch places with you. My up bringing, my environment, my struggle... it has all made me who I am today. A wild dog, right? That is what life has made me according to you Ricky, well, I'd rather be a wild dog than a neutered little b*tch like you.
(Solomon tosses another shovel load of dirt out of the ever deepening hole. He then stabs the shovel into the ground, allowing mother nature to hold the shovel for him. Solomon pulls a pack of Newports out and retrieves a cigarette from it. He sparks the Newport up and takes a few drags. With the cigarette still in his mouth, Solomon grabs the shovel and returns to digging.)
Solomon Cain: Do you know how a callus is formed? Well, with those soft a$a hands you have, you probably don't even know what a callus is. A callus is an area of thickened skin that forms as a response to repeated friction, pressure, or other irritation. It's caused by prolonged exposure to things that are hard, and to say my life has been hard would be an understatement. Life has formed a callus over my body and over my heart, it has hardened me with a layer of both metaphorical and literal armor.
What has your life done for you? It has left you both mentally and physically weak. You can't solve a problem without buying or bench pressing your way out of it. Well, Ricky you can't buy me off, and I hit a lot harder than a barbell. Your life has left you with a soft underbelly, and I will use that soft underbelly to gut you open and leave you laying in a bloody heap.
(Solomon stabs the shovel into the earth again and leaves it there. He takes two more quick, but big drags from his Newport, exhaling slowly on the last. He then flips the cigarette out of the hole, grabs the shovel and begins digging again.)
Solomon Cain: I want more than that though Ricky. I know that just kicking your a$s, spilling your blood, and winning our match won't be enough. I'm not in this to just get a big win, oh no, I want to truly defeat you. I know your wounds would eventually heal, and that you don't care about this sport enough for the loss to bother you long term. I need to do much more to truly defeat you.
At first I thought I'd attack your wallet, but then I thought what good would that really do? Making you spend thousands on our match, destroying your personal property like your car, costing you sponsors, I could do hundreds of thousands worth of damage, but what is that to you? You have pockets deeper than the Atlantic, it wouldn't even phase you.
So, if it isn't physical damage or damage to your wallet that is going to really hurt you, then what will? Then, I realized as I watched you smirking from the rafters of the Magness arena, I'd attack your weakest spot... your pyschie.
You have a God complex, and you're a text book narcissist, so what better place to attack you than your ego. Your name "Pretty" Ricky Stanton... it means everything to you. I mean what do you love more than yourself? You're like Donald Trump in a few ways. An egomaniac who has to plaster his name all over any of his properties. Stanton Enterprises, SE Network, SE Offices.. Trump Plaza, Trump Towers, Trump University.
The similarities don't stop there. You've both built yourself some real life, walking, talking Barbie dolls to parade on your arm, but everyone knows if the money dried up they'd be gone before your last penny. You both let your mouths write checks that your a$s can't cash, and if you'd both just stay off Twitter you'd be a lot better at your jobs.
Like Trump, you've tried hiding behind a strong female guard dog. Well, Sarah Huckabee-Sandars took early retirement and your guard dog Sam Tolson found out the only thing that would break in our battle was her neck.
Also, your both bald and afraid to admit it, but, that's just childish.
(Solomon leans the shovel over against the wall of the ever deepening hole. He pulls off his Black Label Society t-shirt and throws it out of the hole. Solomon's chest looks bigger and more defined than ever before. He twist his back stretching, and exhales deeply. Solomon then grabs the shovel and continues digging.)
Solomon Cain: So, Ricky... I know that you consider me a wild dog, and love to talk about how you are going to break me, but it is I who will break you. I'm going to break you physically and I'm going to break you mentally. The physical part will be easy for me, and quite painful for you, the mental part, well it will be my pleasure to sit back and watch you unravel, and it has already begun.
Your own board is already questioning you, already doubting you. They see that you cannot control me, and that you are losing control over yourself. They will watch at Mile High Spectacular Two, as I tear you apart physically and you beg for mercy. Seeing you in such a weak state, and seeing you so embarrassed on your own network will even greater decrease their confidence in you. Once the sponsors start pulling out due to the graphic nature of our match, they will have to do something to change the face of the SE Network. Well... you are that face Ricky, so they will have to remove you and find someone else, and it looks like Richard Osiris is already positioning himself to be that new face.
How long do you think your built to order Barbie doll will stick around once they take your network from you? I bet she's under Osris desk before security drops your a$s on the sidewalk out front. What about your parents, what will they do when they see how you pissed away the company they handed you.?
Oh wait, they can't see it... because they're dead. Lucky for them, because they don't have to see how big of a b*tch their son grew up to be.
(The sound of the shovel hitting something unnatural is heard. This brings a smile to Solomon's face, and gives him a burst of energy. He begins digging frantically, and with renewed vigor. In a few minutes he uncovers the objects enough to show two caskets, sitting side by side.
Solomon, pulls ths black bandana from his back pocket and ties it around his face. He doesn't do this to hide his identity, but to help mask the smell of what is about to come.
Solomon grabs the latches of the casket on the left and undoes them, and pulls the lid open. Solomon then turns to the casket on the right and does the same. Inside of the caskets are two heavily decomposed bodies. The bones have mostly turned to dust, the clothes are tattered and rotten and just as decomposed as the bodies.
The stench gags Solomon, even through the bandanna. Solomon jumps out of the grave, leaving the shovel behind. Solomon takes a few steps away from the grave, gagging and coughing.)
Solomon Cain: AHHH! GAWD! That is awful.
F**K!
(Solomon grabs the large bottle of Vodka and pulls the cap open. He takes a big drink, and shakes his head. He takes another quick drink.)
Solomon Cain: Ricky, no matter how much money you have, no matter how many material object you own, we all end up in the same place... six feet under ground. Ricky, do you think your money will stand over your casket and cry for your loss? Do you think that Tesla I sent up in flames would come to your funeral? Do you think your credit cards will visit your grave?
All you are going to leave behind is your name and your legacy. Like your entrance music says, they will remember you for centuries, but how will they remember you? Will they remember you as a Titan of industry, or will they remember you as the boss who got his a$s handed to him by his wild dog?
However you are remembered Ricky, I can promise you that I'll visit your grave. If I have to live to be a hundred years old, I'll make sure you go in the ground before me, and I will come to your grave, whip out my d*ck that Samantha Hamilton craves so badly, and I'll piss all over your grave.
We will both end up in the same place Ricky, our bodies under the dirt and our souls in hell. I'm going to make sure you get there before me, and when you get there warn the devil that Solomon Cain is coming, and that he has a real problem with authority.
(Solomon takes another shot of the Vodka, and then begins pouring the vodka into the grave. Solomon watches the bottle empty until the last drop hits the caskets. Solomon then drops the bottle onto the grave.
Solomon lights up another Newport, and takes a few drags. He exhales slowly and then tosses the cigarette into the grave. The lit Newport ignites the Vodka and flames engulf the caskets and the grave is turned into a fire pit.
Solomon smirks as he picks up his t-shirt and pulls it back on. Solomon then grabs his vest and throws it over his shoulder revealing a tombstone. The focus switches to the tombstone that reads, "Here Lies Joseph & Marie Stanton.".
Solomon watches the caskets and the decomposed bodies burn, and gives a weaked smile.
Fade out.)
