Inter-Inter-Invention

A blinking cursor in a Final Draft document stares daggers into the soul of the Pop Culture Phenom’s uncreative Creative Director, the D. He takes a sip from his cold brew Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf door dash order and breaks off pieces of a croissant. He’s wearing sweats and an old ACW t-shirt, and just runs his hands through his hair in frustration. He’s sitting in his modest Hollywood apartment just off Sunset on a small dining room table. His laptop is surrounded by last night's alcohol and this morning's coffee. His living room in front of him, two love seat leather couches and a single recliner surround a 75 inch Sony TV. On the walls are numerous movie posters of the D’s former accolades, mostly revolving around the Lake Placid series as well as Tiger Queen, their Tiger King spoof. Behind him, a small kitchen inlet covered with whiskey and rum bottles, most near empty and drunk, just like the D last night..

The D meanwhile, goes to the kitchen and makes himself a smoothie. He takes his time, cutting up fruits and veggies that will no doubt be blended into tinier bits. He even slow rolls the blender, pressing the button here and there in a rhythmic musical manner. He pours the smoothie and inhales, enjoying the fruits of his fruity labor. The Director of DEFIANCE sits down, refreshed, and returns to that damned blinking cursor flashing in his face like an unsexy streaker.

He just shakes his head in frustration.

So, the D gets in a quick workout. He does some push ups, some pull ups, some squats and some sit ups. He returns, invigorated and blood flowing. He places his hands back onto his laptop's keyboard, and types…

“FADE IN.”

It’s here where his phone rings. He lifts up his iPhone and sees an image of a large Cardboard box alerting him of a FaceTime call. The D answers. “Ahoy hoy!” The D listens in. “Oh I’m not doing anything. At least nothing important. You need me to swing by Klein?” Again, he listens. “Sure thing, I can stop on the way with some cold brew. You want that Irish or? Oh yes, no Irish for you. Let’s drink and drive!” Off the reaction. “Oh, no, I’m just drinking regular coffee…”

The D’s eyes narrow over his landscape of empty booze bottles and the two airplane sized bottles of whiskey next to his cold brew.

“Okay, FINE. I’ll call an Uber.”

**

The D hits five star on his Uber driver as he exits the white Honda Accord. He turns to face Klein’s modest duplex in suburban Calabasas, holding his own coffee as well as one for Klein. He takes the long walk up and Klein is waiting for him on his porch. The D extends his coffee to Klein, and then pulls it back, realizing he’s offering Klein the wrong one. Klein gives him a double take and sniffs the coffee before drinking. “So, what’s up Klein? What’s the plan?”

Klein nods through his box and then ushers the D inside. The D’s seen this before, but Klein’s living room is a museum to his pro wrestling career. We see 25 years of a career in pictures, one sheets, old titles and gear adorning his walls. But the D’s attention diverts to Klein’s living room. Typically empty, he sees it filled with people he knows, and one he doesn’t. The most noticeable and instantly recognizable figure is PRIME Hall of Famer, Jack Harmen. Former Five Star Champion and member of the Team VIAGRA trio, Mary-Lynn Mayweather is next to him in her finest red three piece. Tony Davis is munching on tortilla chips and salsa standing behind them, but at least he remembered to wear clothes this time.

On the other side of the room is the D’s older sister, who’s got that Jersey Karen mom energy flowing through her pores. To her right is her daughter, 21, who seems disinterested and is fumbling with her phone. The D looks over to the woman sitting in the main recliner, a fifties something blonde with emerald green glasses that match Mary-Lynn’s. She looks up from her notes to the D and smiles.

“Ah, Derek.” She ushers the D into a seat that’s just a regular kitchen chair, placed in the center of the room. “Please, take a seat.”

The D narrows his eyes and scans the room. “Alright, what is this?” He looks over at the blonde. “The last time the living room was arranged like this we told Klein he had to stop buying Labubu’s…”

“Please Derek. Take a seat.” The blonde says. “I’m Dr. Clarissa Cambridge, and we’re here today because your friends are very concerned for your future well being.”

The D quickly raises a finger to the crowd, and narrows his eyes. “Yeah well, you shouldn’t be. I’ve got TWO jobs.” The D turns to Jack. “All this guy DOES is job. Maybe you should intervene on him and the shitty twilight of his now disgraced legacy?”

Jack, always a hot head, stands up and gets into the D’s face. The D just smiles and extends his chin for Jack to punch him. Klein steps between them, pushing a reluctant but understanding Jack back to his seat. He mumbles, “Everybody gets one.”

“D.” Klein says, taking off his box and revealing his pretty boy golden locks. “This isn’t just about you, and you know it.” Klein nods, as the D finally takes a seat. “This is about us. Do you wanna piss away your legacy like you think Jack’s pissing his away?”

Jack snarls and turns to MLM. “That his one.”

Klein continues, “You and Elise are one of the greatest duo DEFIANCE have ever seen. You come to PRIME when you’re NOT in the prime of your careers and expect to just… what? Coast by drinkin’ and messing with Lindsay? YOUR BOSS?” Klein crosses his arms over his chest. “We never should have stolen the FIST.”

“That blue bastard? Fuck him and his public masturbation. Keyes can eat forty rolls of quarters so he can SHIT out all the COIN he likes.” The D follows Klein’s lead and crosses his arms. “Listen, I’ll give you it wasn’t the smartest idea, but it was pretty effective.”

“Elise is dragging you down D.” Klein says, nodding. “And she’ll keep doing it until we drag her UP with us. The forgotten promos, the missed calls, the hospital…”

“She’s maintaining. So am I.” The D scoffs. “Ya’ll wastin’ your time.”

Jack Harmen stands. He walks to the D and takes his coffee. He takes a sip, reacting to the alcohol. He looks up at an old analog clock, which reads 11. AM. Jack just hands it back to him with just a sneer and goes back to his seat.

“Do you think it’s normal to treat a hangover with alcohol?” Dr. Cambridge says as she crosses her legs.

“Brunch says yeah?” The D responds.

“And you’re deflecting.” The Dr. says as she chews on the tip of her pen. “Elise is showing signs of late stage damage to her liver and stomach Derek. GI Bleeding. Blackouts. She’s been to the ER for this, it’s serious. And she’s not going to stop unless her enablers stop.”

“So ya’ll decide to ambush me and expect me to sign up for rehab on the off chance it convinces her to?” The D rolls his eyes. “Have ya’ll met Elise?”

“Derek.” It’s a semi-soft spoken voice, coming from the D’s sister. She just looks up at him with heartfelt eyes. “I don’t care about Elise, you know that. You know I’ve thought she’s always been a bad influence on you. Who knows what you could be doing right now if you didn’t hitch your wagon to hers. But you have, and now you’re in trouble. And you don’t want to admit your weakness. I get it. But we all just want you to get the help you need. And hopefully, that inspires your friend to do the same.” She crosses her arms across her chest. “If not, that’s her decision.”

“And this is mine!” The D shouts.

“Is it?” Jack says, from his chair. “Or is this your disease talkin’ for you? The booze demanding to be drunk, night after night. You think just cause you’re still walkin’ and writin’ and wrasslin’ you’re in control? You’re both act as each other’s anchor, and you’re pullin’ each other under.”

Tony quickly chimes in. “Yeah. What he said!” He looks around wildly. “Also, where’s the queso?” Tony quickly walks off frame and starts rummaging in the fridge. Mary-Lynn just shakes her head from the couch.

“I never made her drink.” The D defends. “She doesn’t make me. We just enjoy it!” Mary-Lynn chimes in. “And it’s killing her. And she won’t stop if you don’t. She’d follow you off a cliff if it had booze at the bottom, you know that?”

Klein steps in, and just places his hand on the D’s shoulder. “I know how much you love her. And I know she doesn’t love you… like that. But I’ve watched you both for years, burying yourselves in booze to mask whatever pain ya’ll ain’t willin’ to share. But she’s breaking D. And she needs you.”

Klein steps back, shaking his head. He’s not getting through. “You might survive this D. But she won’t.” Klein turns, shaking his head. “Not without you stepping up.”

The D lets out a huge sigh. He turns to his pleading sister, back to Klein, and then to the stern look of Dr. Cambridge. He scratches the side of his head.

“FINE!” he finally shouts. “I’ll go.” He sneers again, unpleased. “But only if she agrees to. If SHE quits, I’ll quit.” The D just laughs to himself, looking at the floor. “I’ll go wherever she goes…”

“Great.” The Dr. says, standing to her feet. “And maybe when this is all said and done, we can work on that co-dependency issue next.” The D just growls as she gathers her clipboard. “I’ll show myself out. You have all the info you need, Mary’s been well educated on this logistics and bureaucracy. I do wish you well Derek, and hope we meet under more auspicious circumstances.”

“Enjoy your three thousand dollars and your false altruism!” The D shouts after her as she nervously exits. The D turns to the rest of his family. “So… anyone need a drink or just me?” He laughs. The air is filled with angst. “Ya’ll don’t get why PCP works, after all these years.” The D sits back down in his center chair and crosses his arms in petulant frustration. “It’s all about the party…”