We find Mad Dawg in the locker room by himself sitting on the floor meditating, breathing deeply, and talking to himself.
Mad Dawg: Whewwwww…Remember what that doctor said to you Dawg.
He takes a deep breath in.
Mad Dawg: Whewwwww…the events of today just prepare you for the events of tomorrow.
He takes another deep breath in as the image of Derek hitting the ref comes to his memory and opens his eyes.
Mad Dawg: Man! Fuck this shit, dumbass shit! Rehab was a fucking waste of time! Those punk ass motherfuckers…Grit and Glory my ass!
Pissed off Mad Dawg now stands up and flips over some chairs and starts pacing.
Mad Dawg: I swear I’m going to make those cowards lives a living hell. How the hell did they not get DQed. How…how did I fail…again! Those bitches ain’t seen the last me. On everything I love I will be there to see their downfall! DNS should be tag team champs!
He stops moving and looks at his phone. He starts to call Marisa but knows she will give him reason to calm down but don’t want to hear. He keeps scrolling down and sees a local bartender's name he used to date.
Mad Dawg: Free drinks don’t sound bad right now. Maybe even a little late night action if I’m lucky.
As he is about to press the call option, BASH name appears on the screen as an incoming call. Taking second to accept this coincidence as a sign to stay sober, he answers the call.
Mad Dawg: Hello?…yea I can be there in about an hour…while we’re there I think I need to run something past you.
He leaves the locker room proud that he didn’t break his streak, but even more pissed at G&G for pushing him this far so soon after leaving rehab.
The warm light of sun shines onto a familiar ranch style house we’ve seen before in Mexico City. Laughter, singing, and music can be heard coming from behind the house as an older Chevy pickup truck pulls into the gravel driveway.
Country music from the truck can be heard playing gently as the truck idles for a second then shuts off with the music turning off as well.
The rusty door opens up and squeaks as it gets slammed shut by an individual wearing cowboy boots. The camera pans up revealing Big Country himself, Mark Reese, Reese is smiling looking at the house that we all know is El Parca’s childhood home where his parents and other family members still occupy.
Reese walks up the driveway, gravel, rocks, and other bits crunching and moving as his big steps make it very known the family has a visitor. The music turns down and the sounds of singing fade away as a woman opens the door smiling at Mark.
Isabella: There’s my Big Country! Welcome home Mark, we've all missed you so much.
Isabella embraces Mark with a big hug as Mark hugs her back letting out a deep relaxed exhale. He feels a firm hand on his back as he looks up and notices Hector, El Parca’s father, also smiling at him as he nods at Mark. The three walk into the house as children of varying ages are still running around playing, singing, and dancing.
Hector: Come have a seat big man, don’t mind the mess. You know how the Ramos family is when we celebrate! Only but the best for anyone we’re celebrating.
Mark smiles again as he sits down at the table nearby where Hector takes a seat as well. Isabella comes back into the frame with three glasses and a pitcher of water pouring into each glass.
Mark: I hope I’m not intrudin’ or nothin’, I just needed a change of scenery, to get away from the fed, y'know? Just didn’t think I’d need to be back here all that quick. (I hope I’m not intruding or anything. Just had to get a change of scenery and I wasn’t expecting it to be so quick… Thanks for accommodatin’ me like always.
Isabella: Intruding? Don’t be silly Mark. This home is just as much yours as it is ours.
Hector: You’re our family Mark. You and Miguel? I’ve never seen such a connection like that. He always wanted a big brother, shame he was stuck with being the oldest himself but he had you. We could never thank you enough for taking care of our boy as best as you could.
Hector: Glad the flight didn’t stir anything wrong. It’s been weird… adjusting to the new luxuries that Miguel has opened us up to. But when I got your message? How could I not insist!
Mark smiles but looks down at the table at the mention of Miguel. He looks back up and smiles again.
Mark: Yeah… ‘bout that. He and I… We’re still not quite like we used to be, he’s out on his own, I’m out on my own… I think I’d be fixin’ up some fiction if I was to say I don’ miss when we were joined at the hip, two ears of corn. Pots and pans, peas in a pod.
Isabella: Just like I used to watch and tell Hector. This business is a hard one, Marky. You and Miguel have been through your ups and downs but you always gotta remember, Miguel? He always loves you and always talks about you. Hell lately it’s the only thing he talks about.
Hector: Talking about how he hated what happened at Anniversary but talks about how he knows you wouldn’t want it any different and he knows you’d want him to give it all. But what’s more strange is the struggle inside of him. That boy seems like he always knew what and where he wanted to go but…
Isabella picks up for Hector as he struggles to continue.
Isabella: He isn’t okay Mark. After the shenanigans with that Air-rays? Fella, the match with you and Benjamin Note, and now losing the championship? Our boy doesn’t know what to do or where to go.
Mark leans back in his chair and wipes his forearm across his forehead as he lets out a sigh. Normally he’d not mind seeing Miguel struggle but this time it’s different.
Mark: So uh… That’s kind of why I reached out, I feel like recently I’ve been gettin’ in my own way. Same for Miggy.
Mark: I won’t lie, I’ve still not fully got over what he did, and I know you’re the same… But at the end of the day I ain’t felt whole, complete, since he’s been with me. I miss Hector, I miss Isabella, Miguel, and my familia. Mamma aint around that much, and well, Papa is Papa. He’s old fashion’ he don’t talk too much, I just… I just need someone to talk to about everythin’ and… You didn’t happen to hear from him did ya?
Hector stands up from the table and takes his glass in his hand. Isabella gives Hector a kiss on the cheek as she exits the room. Hector smirks at Mark as he winks at him as well.
Hector: You didn’t think I’d coordinate something did ya?
As he says that we see Miguel aka El Parca walk into the house laughing following behind one of his younger sisters. Miguel notices Mark and freezes up, laughing stops like he’s seen a ghost. Mark looks at Miguel and takes a sip of his water as Hector lotions for Miguel to come into the kitchen and take his seat.
Hector: You two have some things to talk about. You’re both in a safe place, minds clear, and now boys? It’s time to have that talk; whether you leave here as friends again or you gotta go outback and handle it like men. There’s no more tension, no more drama, and it’s time to handle this like men.
Miguel timidly sits down in front of Mark as Hector places a hand on Miguel’s shoulder and looks down at his son with pride. He takes his hand off and exits the room as Isabella and Hector funnel the kids outside into the backyard where the music starts playing again.
Parca: I- uh- I wasn’t expecting to see you here but, I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m glad to see you. It’s been a long time since we’ve been here together with everyone.
Mark gives Parca’s sister a salute and a smile as she makes her way outside. Slowly he turns, putting his hands on his hips.
Mark: So, I finally watched Lord of the Rings. Do I need to throw you in a volcano or we gonna break some bread?
Parca: That’s a little bit aggressive, but I respect it. I’d like to break bread and not be thrown into lava please.
Mark smirks.
Mark:Not even if we make a smidgin’ of toast? That’s fair… So… How… How did you do it? How’d you go from El Parca, to El Primero when it mattered?
Parca leans back in his chair and raises his eyebrows with a shocked facial expression. He thinks for a moment but eventually comes up with an answer.
Parca: Truthfully? Frustration really. I just fed into the anger from everything I was hearing. So many whispers and snide remarks about how I’m not a good guy, guys with masks can’t be good people, and it just eventually consumed me.
Parca: That mixed in with being able to beat other peoples favorites tend to make them mad. I could rescue a puppy from a burning fire but if it was Maxx Edwards dog they’d assume I lit the house on fire.
Mark: Not to be crass or nothin’... But what if it was just Maxx… To get that title right now, I don’ think I’d be savin’ him… Heck, I think I’d be given’ that Bash offer some good thinkin’.
Parca chuckles at the Maxx remark from Mark and takes a sip from his glass of water. As he puts it back on the table he feels a wave of calm go over him.
Parca: Eh, I don’t have any true hatred for the man in my heart so I’d maybe think about it. I’d have to get the title first y’know? Haha, ah but do me a favor; don’t give Bash anything.
Parca: You are far too good and smart to be getting ANYWHERE near that dangerous web of DNS. No sir, too much going on there. One minute it’s Bash the next you’re the Bull Worm and in a tag team with Samsin.
Mark shudders.
Mark:I’d like to think I’d get a little more leeway than bein’ a dirty faced Tamagotchi.
Parca: Also can we leave the mopey sad schtick to me? It doesn’t look good on you besides, you’re not losing to chumps Big Country. You lost to a guy who just had a standout performance against Telos, barely squeaked by you, and couldn’t get past us!
Parca: You’re a world champion caliber competitor, don't forget that. YOU my good buddy, have thee LONGEST championship reign in OCW history. That’s something all the golden boys can’t brag about… even me.
Mark: But if I can’t win the big one, that’s all it is… Pointless words. Little sweet nothings that go nowhere. I’ve given my life to this Miguel, Mama’s gone, Papa’s not there, I don’ have anyone to go home to at night. I made my bed, and by god it’s lonely to sleep in.
Parca: The door isn’t closed though Mark. There’s two biggest prizes in this company, both held by guys YOU can beat. Lets not forget you beat Maxx already, and you saw what I did to B17. You can be a world champ you just can’t give up on it.
Mark grows silent, clasping his hands together as his eyes wander, settling upon a statue of the Lady Madonna.
Mark: I wish I had as much faith in me as you do.
Parca: What if you stopped trying to please everyone?
Mark takes a deep breath, exhaling a long sigh.
Mark: Am I allowed to do that?
Parca: I might not be the best guy to ask that if I’m being honest. I’m a lot of peoples main enemy for all I’ve done. But, something that’s stuck with me from Dennis is…
Parca thinks for a second and smirks coming to terms with it all.
Parca: You gotta do things for yourself. Sometimes the fans, management, friends, family… it doesn't matter. What matters is doing it for yourself and proving to yourself you can do anything.
Mark nods solemnly as we fade out, the sound of idle chatter been the former tag team partners slowly dies out as the segment comes to and end.
