Do It For The Children

“Where is she?”

The D looks down at his phone, then looks down at his other phone. He then pulls out a pager, and rolls his eyes. “She said she’d be here Klein.”

“She isn’t in the bathroom.” Klein shrugs, “We can’t make her make her own flights every time. I’m worried about kidnapping charges… and honestly it’s about time that if she needs to be babysat like this, maybe we just let her miss it so she’ll learn something.”

The D turns around and leans back against the window wall of Luis Munoz Marin International Airport and sighs. He closes his eyes in front of the sunrise happening across the tarmac behind him. There is no airplane at the gate yet, but it’s supposed to show up any minute. Massaging his temples, he looks like he’s trying to telepathically send a message like Charles Xavier in the original X-Men The Animated Series.

“I’m too sober for this.” He finally declares.

His eyes shoot open. He makes eye contact with Klein. They speak in unison.

“The bar!”

“I got this one.” The D pats Klein on the shoulder and walks past. Klein quickly turns around to protest.

“Maybe I shou-” The D is gone. Klein’s only company? Three carry-on bags and a sigh. “Everytime.”

Meanwhile, Derek Edwards is swerving between meandering passengers through the beige and brown tiled halls of the gateway to Puerto Rico. Passing aisles of connected gray seats filled with half-awake parents and their fussy children. No one likes to be up this early. That’s probably why Elise didn’t sleep. After their loss the night before to Vae Victis (again) it is clear something is off with the former FACE of DEFIANCE. The D initially chalks it up to another loss to Hank after everything he’d previously put her through, but this isn’t their first loss.

When you’ve been teaming up for over 8 years, victories and losses seem to come and go like the tides. You get hot and then you’re not. Part of what made them so great was surviving those “not” periods and not going for each other’s throats and pointing fingers. They stayed afloat together. Survive the tides. Then turn them to their favor. Despite what the PRIME roster or even the casual wrestling fan thought about the Pop Culture Phenoms, they’ve spent the better part of a decade finding new ways to win. There’s something inspiring to be found in that… but not to Elise.

Her only inspiration is the long island iced tea wafting lemonade and sadness as she stares into it at the airport bar. Surrounded by colorful triangle shaped party banners hanging from the ceiling, Puerto Rican flags, and island party imagery, the Cuban born bombshell looks at home kicking the last quarter of her glass back. She slams it back down on the table with a thud.

“Another one, miss?” A hispanic man in his early 40s asks her with a thick Spanish accent. Elise doesn’t answer. She doesn’t even look up from behind her giant Prada sunglasses, masking the massive hangover she had from the night before. A little hair of the dog should fix her problems but, unfortunately, not fast enough. A hand slams a $20 bill on the bar next her, making her nearly jump out of her skin.

“Nah, she’s done.” The D “Close her out. We’ve got a plane to catch, and I ain’t swimmin’ home.”

“Sir, with all due respect…” The bartender said, “This is an airport bar. Do you really think $20 is going to cover her tab?”

“That’s a 20 with my signature on it.” The D beams proudly. “Worth way more than 20 bucks.”

The bartender squints his eyes at the D, who reluctantly pulls out a debit card.

“Do you try to pick up the tabs of all the pretty girls at the bar, or just me?” Elise finally speaks as she slowly looks over at The D. He looks past Elise down one side of the bar and then turns around and looks down the other side of the bar.

“It’s just you.” The D proclaims, “It’s 6am, who else would be at a bar besides you?”

Elise smiles and points at The D.

“Us.” He corrects himself and picks his card back up off the bar, “WE have a plane to catch.”

“Why?” Elise answers, “So we can go back home to LA and make a game plan for whatever other dog and pony show Lindsay trots us out for and we can lose again? Then we can go backstage and she can look at us all ‘Haha, I told you that you were all a bunch of losers and you never believed me.’ You know what, fuck her. Fuck Hank. Fuck PRIME. Let’s just stay here for a while and actually ENJOY ourselves for once, yeah?”

Derek doesn’t really have an answer for her.

“Another week in the sun and the sand. Wash away this… stink of losing. ALLLLL the time. At least when I lost to Hank in DEFIANCE it was because Shields is a little fucking BITCH and does all the Favoured Saints dirty work for them.” Elise slurs a little as she continues on, “Fuck them too while we’re at it. You know what, we need to find some place who appreciates us.”

“You’re drunk. We need to go. You can sleep it off on the plane.”

“Nah. I’m good. I’m done being a loser.” Elise tries to put her hand up in the air to get the bartender’s attention while making an L on her forehead, oblivious to the fact that she’s the only one there and he’s just watching the television, but The D grabs her wrist and puts it down.

“Maybe you’re right and we could try something new?” His words pique her interest, “In filmmaking whenever you feel like your wheels are spinning and you’re not going anywhere, it’s always good to try something completely different. Fresh perspective. Yadda yadda. You know, like Catherine O’Hara doing Home Alone. Or Adam Sandler in Uncut Gems. Or Chris Farley if he never died.”

Derek desperately looks around to find inspiration in the moment, but the only thing around are half-awake zombie people and their loud ass kids.

“Kids programming.” The D puts his arms up like he’s trying to get Elise to see his vision, “The men already love you for obvious reasons, but the kids… that’s where the money is. We put this package next to a couple of muppets and you’ll be printing cash. You’ll be more popular than ever! Like a sexy version of that Blippy dickhead who cut me off at Starbucks and then used up the last of the vanilla and the charamel.” Klein pats the D to comfort him which the D non-audibly thanks him.

“I do like being recognized for my talents.” Elise recognizes aloud, “But I can’t just show up on Sesame Street and tell them today’s letter is The D. I don’t know anything about kids television.”

“Don’t worry, I know a guy.” The D reassures her, “We went to film school together. A real nice dude. Softspoken. Easy to manipulate.”

“Wait, you didn’t go to film school.”

“Neither did he.” The D quickly responds, “But we’re kind of on a time crunch here? Let’s walk and talk, I’ll fill you in on all the details on the flight home.”

**

A vibration goes off in a dark corner of a film studio. Everyone simultaneously checks their phones and Derek Edwards is one of them. Then he checks his other phone. Then he checks his pager. What he reads makes him break the awkward silence.

“Shit.” He says aloud, getting some dirty looks from some of the surrounding off-stage crew members, “I’m sorry, but what the fuck is a Foot Soldier?”

The other crew members gather their things and walk away, leaving The D alone in his quest for education. He begins to put his various cell phones and pagers away before a man walks up to him. Skinny, almost gaunt, with a greying goatee and a pair of black hornrimmed glasses. His light brown hair is short, not quite buzzed but not long enough to style and wears a black turtleneck that makes him look like he’s auditioning to play Steve Jobs in the next Apple movie.

“Hey Derek, just a note.” He speaks quietly and slowly, like Steve from Blues Clues, “I know that you’re not used to children’s programming but in order to keep things family friendly around here we try not to use that language on set. Once you’re outside of the building or in your own dressing room, you’re fine to speak your mind but there are a lot of kids around here and there are a lot of SAG-AFTRA guidelines we have to follow.”

“Sorry?” The D might understand, “I need to talk to Elise. Just got a text from work. Well, our other work. I need to pass a message along to her. We have a job… I mean we’re not doing a job, that’s what we’re trying to avoid. I don’t know what I can say and what I can’t say, is Elise out of hair and makeup yet?”

“I’ll go check, in the meantime. Sit back. Relax. Just… don’t do anything you wouldn’t normally do in front of children.” The man reassures The D and goes back towards his director’s seat. “We got lights? Sound? Is everyone in position?”

“Looks good Mr. Seabreeze!” Someone states from just off stage. Sitting down in his seat he looks at a large brightly colored film studio. Huge fluorescents and aria light kits shine down onto the stage, which is a typical Philadelphia street with disproportionate brick buildings and shallow stoops to give you the impression everything on stage is smaller than it really is.

Behind the magic, a gaggle of puppeteers are rigged in such a way a camera won’t be able to see them do their work. An overweight bearded man in a costume tries to cool off between takes by removing his hood and taking a deep sigh. As Seabreeze starts to shout, everyone gets into their places and puts the final pieces together. There’s a quiet hush as the only sound heard is the rolling of a film camera and the clicking of the digital back ups. It’s a rush that never goes away.

“And…” an extra pause from director Seabreeze, “Action. Send her in.”

The director turns his head off-screen. We transition to a broadcast viewpoint on a nearby monitor. It’s a brightly colored, single stage cornucopia of energy and joy. Multicolored puppets start dancing and singing, as the large costume creature slaps high fives to everyone.

There’s a large crash just off screen. The actors and puppets all react, and slowly turn their heads. Over in the corner, Elise has just walked into a large Aria light kit and knocked it over, shattering the bulbs. Numerous key grips and crew members rush in to clean up the glass and replace the light, while hair and makeup tend to a disgruntled Ares. She shouts and waves them off, stumbling into the camera frame and just punching the costumed actor in the face. “What’s up bitches!”

The director slaps his own forehead. The D looks on, wide eyed. “Maybe we can salvage this.” The director shouts out “ACTION!”

“Alright boys and girls, tis your fav gal El-lie-el-le-Elise Ares, ready to drop some truth knowledge on all of you kids. You want to be an astronaut? You want to be a baseball player? You want to be FIST of DEFIANCE? Well too bad!” Elise shouts, slurring and spitting a bit as she talks. She quickly takes out a small flask and “sneaks” a sip, to no one’s fooling. “You all suck, your lives are going to suck, and you’ll be lucky to be a plumber or a librarian, what with AI and everything! Your future’s gonna SUUUUCK!” Elise leans back into the backdrop of the set. As she does, everything tetters in almost slow motion before falling like a ton of bricks. The D rushes in and tries to help her to her feet, and as she stands she shoves him away. “I got this!” Elise smiles. “D. I got this.”

The D frowns. “I really don’t think you do.”

Elise stumbles and the D catches her. “Y’know. Maybe you’re right. Could we do a do-over, like another day?”

The Director stands and shouts. “BREAK!” The director leans in. “Are you referring to a rain check?”

The D laughs. Elise stumbles and points into his chest. “I don’t know what that is because I’m not a poor.”

Klein quickly rushes in next to Elise and between him and the D, both pick her up and drag her off set. “I said I’m alright!” she shouts as the set door slams shut behind them.

**

It’s a few days later, and through sober eyes, Elise Ares has come to terms with the fact that she will never be a true star for children. As the D and Klein sit around a breakfast table, Elise lowers her head over her morning coffee and breaths in the aroma.

“So…” The D starts, clearing his throat. “We uh… we had a bit of a disaster, after another disaster. But you know what Elise, we’ve always pushed through to the other side until we turned disaster into glory.”

“Okay.” Elise starts. “But I don’t know how me crashing out on a PBS kids show with puppets and having the video leak on TMZ isn’t exactly instilling me with confidence.”

“But listen Elise, more people know you today than they did yesterday. You know what they say about Kiefer Sutherland. He was the star of 24 and the Lost Boys, and he one time tackled a Christmas Tree. It’s just a footnote in his career, just like this is.” The D consoles her. “That being said, I think I cracked the code on how WE, can reach the younger generation. If you’ll both indulge me for a few days of filming… I think we can inspire not only the youth, but ourselves, as we go into this next match up with…”

Klein interjects. “The Foot Soldiers.”

“Wait. No, really?” The D smiles. “They’re really called the Foot Soldiers?”

“Why?”

“Cause this is even more perfect. What color do you want?”

Elise rolls her eyes “Purple duh.”

Klein catches on and nods his box. “Red.”

The D smiles. “Sweet. I always knew I was the leader…”

** A starry clear sky over New York City. Shooting down past tall buildings and into the city streets, our view lands on a sewer cover, which simply has the “PCP” logo on it.

A loud scraping as the sewer cover loosens and opens, revealing a circus car-like amount of black doned gi ninjitsu rush out onto the New York Streets. They start accosting pedestrians. One steals a purse from an elderly lady. Another steals a lollipop from a now crying 10 year old blonde boy. The various other ninjas start just knocking out every able bodied man on the street.

Until a large spotlight illuminates the Ninja’s, stopping them in their tracks.They all look up to the light, coming down from the rooftop. Blinded, they can’t see but a blur diving off the roof.

Landing in a superhero pose on the streets of New York City, wearing a dark purple mask that only covers her eyes, wielding two bo staffs, is none other than Elise Ares. She begins to cut and slash and attack wave after wave of ninjas, slicing and dicing like a trained chef. Eventually, the numbers overpower her, and they all swarm.

Until a man in a box rushes out and starts ripping people off Elise, tossing them to the side like nothing. Klein helps Elise to her feet, himself wearing a red mask over his box and carrying two swords, one short one long. He turns to his side, and standing there with his hands behind his head and hip thrusting is the D, who’s wearing his own blue mask around his eyes. He, for some reason, has nunchuks, sais, and swords cause he couldn’t chose.

They are the Pop Culture Ninja Phenoms.

The D does not attack, except kicking one fallen Ninja while he’s down. The three turn to their foes across the alley.

Elise Ares: If you all want to attack this city, this country, then you gotta go through ME!

The D steps forth, proudly.

The D: And me!

There’s an awkward pause. The D coughs, and nudges Klein forward.

Klein: I am also here.

The three strike a pose that would likely be on the cover of the DVD, if people purchased physical media anymore.

The Ninja’s all look at each other, and the lead ninja charges. All the other ninjas throw down smoke bombs and seem to disappear.

The lone ninja rushes up and then realizes he has no back up. He looks at Elise, then D, then Klein, and then back to Elise, before being punched in the face repeatedly as he ping pongs between the three of them. Klein hits a huge spinebuster on the ninja before Elise and the D knock him out with their patented “Drive-by at the Roxy.”

Elise stands up and mugs for the camera.

Elise Ares: And that’s how you can prevent ninja attacks.

The D: Foot soldiers. The line is foot soldiers. ALRIGHT EVERYONE! Back to one. We’ve got to get this one-er right!

Elise Ares: Can’t we just like, make a cut.

The D: That’s why I’m the artist, and you’re the star. FROM THE TOP!

The camera cranes back to the sky and to the twilight of New York City. We see the stars twinkle, as the D barks orders at his production crew.