Snipe Hunt - Printable Version

Snipe Hunt - Printable Version

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Snipe Hunt - Doctor Louis D'Ville - 06-26-2018

Snipe Hunt

You know this come back tour has been pretty fantastic, am I right? Just look at the line-up! Week one, the spaceman. I destroyed it like I said I would and BAM! Next week, Doc D'Ville versus Robbie Bourbon. Two weeks in a row the good doctor faces off against another former UNIVERSAL Champion. Now THAT is entertainment, my friends. THAT is good booking.

The scene flashes back to when Doc visited GM of Warfare Jefferson Jackson, shortly after his visit with XWF Owner Vinnie Lane.

Jefferson Jackson stands in front of his bathroom mirror plucking his eyebrows when the light above his vanity mirror begins to flicker. Annoyed, he knocked on the lamp causing it to *ZZZT* and go out. With a sigh and some frustration, he slams his eyebrow pluckers down on the porcelain sink and exits the bathroom.

Jeff lives quite humbly. No fancy, shpancy what ever it was that Lane lives in, but a cottage on the outskirts of New York CIty. When he exits the bathroom, there is another mirror on the wall adjacent to the doorway. He checks out his work, shrugs, then walks down the hallway towards the den/kitchen combination. He hits the couch and flirts with a couple of channels on the television before beginning to doze off.

The volume on the television blares to max volume as static takes over the channel Jefferson settled on. He jumps out of a deep sleep and nearly falls from the couch. He frantically reaches for the remote controll, but it isn't responding. He screams and whips the remote down, crawls across the room and manually shuts off the television. He takes a breather, a long one, after being startled out of his wits.

*Knock. Knock. Knock.*

Jefferson, again startled by the loud pounding at his door at this hour. Actually, he looks down to his watch and it blinks back "12:00". His finely trimmed eyebrows react as if Dwayne Johnson smelled something raunchy. He looks around and all clocks in his apartment have been reset. He looks at his watch again, but still doesn't make sense of it. He pulls his cellphone from his pocket, the thing won't even turn on.

*Knock.*

*Knock.*

*Knock.*

An even slower knock comes now. Jefferson, without his bearings still, gets up from the floor and slowly approaches the door. He reaches it and unlatches the door and slowly pulls it open.

A sweet smell of cigar fills the hallway, but there is no one there. Jefferson steps out into the hallway, looks both ways up and down, and steps back to shut the door. He turns around to find Doctor Louis D'Ville sitting with his one leg over the other comfortably on his couch.

Now, before we go any further, I would hate for you all to maybe think that I had any type of persuasive stance in this come back of mine and the opposition I may be facing.

I'll start by saying that Jefferson Jackson holds a stiff bargain. He's not easily budged.

Back to the home of Jefferson Jackson....

Yaaaaaah!!!

Jeffeson crumbles at the sight of the good doctor and hides behind a couch.

Don't hurt me! Take anything you want! Please! I have children! Somewhere.... I'm sure.....

The doctor laughs as he puffs away at one of his sweet cigars.

I'm only here to chat, Mister Jefferson.

Jefferson peers from around the couch and squints his eyes.

Oh my God...

Not quite.

D'Ville? Doc D'Ville?

Present.

Jefferson rubs his eyes and moves from behind the couch and sits down.

My apologies... No contacts... I thought I had an intruder.

Doc sneers.

I understand, my friend.

So.... What can I do for you?

.... And what time is it? Do you know???

Jefferson looks around and back to his watch again.

Well, Mister Jefferson....

It's Mr. Jackson, but go on.

From what I understand, it is you that pulls the strings Wednesday nights these days. Is that correct?

I AM the Warfare General Manager, sir.

Doc grins as Jefferson nods.

I didn't know that wasn't public knowledge.

So, if I were to say that I'm back, and back for good... Based off of recent events.... What position would that put me in on your next event.

Jefferson's eyes light up.

Back in the saddle, you say?! Sounds great, doctor!

Doc's eyes don't leave up on the strangle hold it has on Jefferson's soul. He can almost feel the glare choking him.

Uhh, position? I don't know... I mean... You ARE Doctor D'Ville.

That's right. I AM Doctor Louis D'Ville. I will agree with Mister Bourbon as far as each time I drop back in I get less and less popular it seems. Which is fine with me. If I can persuade the UNIVERSE that I don't exist, then when I take it by storm again it will be just as much of a surprise and shock as it was the first time. Breaking into a nearly entire new roster of patients is what keeps me going, Mister Bourbon. Any doctor will say their treatments can only go so far, except me, of course. There are plenty of Lobotomies to go around and plenty of sessions to be had!

Then again, if its the fact that just less and less people care that I'm here... Well, perhaps it is not I that has become stagnant. There was a point while I was UNIVERSAL Champion where... No one really went out of their way to chase after it. I've mentioned this before, but I remember literally falling to my knees and pleading with Peter Gilmour to come after my title, just to take an XWF legacy like Mister Gilmour down and make my title reign that much greater. To make it legitimate, per se. I wanted to make sure that everyone remembered that, if and when a day came that the good doctor would loosen his grip on the UNIVERSE, that he could easily reclaim it.

You know this is true.

I also recall, not long ago, when I held the Tag Team Championship for year. It took some tweaking throughout, but was it I that everyone else were bored with? Every pair that stepped out of the woodwork and tried taking ME down... Whether it be with Unknown Soldier or one of my fellow KINGS™, failed miserably. Perhaps it was the rest of the UNIVERSE that became stagnant.... Perhaps the doctor was bored with IT.

Maybe that's why less and less people take note with my arrivals anymore, Mister Bourbon. They see me, don't want to draw much attention, and watch for my next move. I could see it last week when I faced the spaceman. Is the UNIVERSE so ignorant these days that they do not recognize how important that match actually was? Are they so stupid that they don't realize that the spaceman alone could shatter their hopes, their dreams, their careers in an instant? I am not fabricating this one bit, friends.

I've seen it. Witnessed it with my very own eyes what the alien is truly capable of. It is something you really don't see in the competition today. In fact, I don't believe most of you would have survived that time. You are absolutely right, Mister Bourbon, the world has, indeed, changed. Not for the better, however.

I take that back actually. Maybe it has for a few people. Back in the day, the likes of Peter Gilmour could have never dreamed of becoming the UNIVERSAL Champion. Did you see what happened? Did you?!

Home of Jefferson Jackson

I mean, we could work on something? What is it you want? A title shot? Uhh--

Better than that. Redemption!

Jefferson looks confused, but shrugs.

Well, sure. Redemption for what?

Doc's balls ache from the fact JJ doesn't recall Doc's last match in December.

OH! Yeah, that was unexpected.

Doc remains blank.

So... You just want a match with, Peter Gilmour? Is that all?

Doc shrugs sheepishly accompanied with a D'Villish grin.

Why not just challenge him? You could always call one of your friends back and go for his Tag Team Titles?

I'd rather not.

What? Challenge him or go for the titles?

Both. Mister Gilmour should know that he has a target on his back. He always thinks he's the KING™ until a REAL KING™ shows his face. He then hides in the corner like an old dog that has been beaten over nothing at all. Confused, heart-broken, and ashamed.

Jefferson's eyes are the size of dinner plates.

Well, okay, sure. But, uh, you're going to have to wait. Peter has obligations with those Tag Team Titles, as you should know.

Doc rolls his eyes.

If it is like pulling teeth to get title defenses like it was, then sure, I know.

Don't be discouraged though! I'm sure we could find something for you.

Doc stands up and all of the lights in the room dim low then high and some actually explode with a loud *POP* while in the socket. A few magazines and other papers and nick-nacks scattered about the place begin to levitate.

Do not speak like you'll find room for me on a show that I headlined for years, Mister Jefferson.

Jackson.

Jefferson manages to slip that in even though he nearly pissed himself from all the commotion. Everything falls back and the lights (what is left of them) go back to their normal pitch.

I will not be placed in the back of the deck nor will I sit the bench for anyone. I have beaten nearly everyone that has been placed in front of me and I will continue to do so until this FINE federation is reduced to nothing but dust!

I, uh, mm, umm.

Jefferson grabs his phone and starts zipping around on it. Not sure if it is a nervous tactic or if he's actually doing something relevant to the situation.

I have waited too long to wait any longer, good sir. I----

I got it!

Jefferson exclaims and rushes across the room to the good doctor. He turns the screen around and brings it face-to-face with him. Doc squints and looks at the screen, looks up at Jefferson, and the sweet old man that initially arrived to his home returned.

Think about it! Return match, four years in the making, right? This could be pretty epic. I'm impressed with myself. Take a couple of weeks, show the world and Peter what you're capable of.... STILL capable of, I mean. Then go from there, right? Peter defends his titles in two weeks, win or lose, he's yours.

Jefferson throws his phone in his pocket and turns to talk away.

I like the way you think, Mister Jefferson.

Jackson.

Jefferson turns around and the doctor is gone. In fact, all of the lights are working and still whole in the socket. It was like the Doc never came and visited him at all.

Freaky.

It all started when Vinnie Lane thought he saved the UNIVERSE. Then, he helped corrupt the UNIVERSE. Then, he took over the UNIVERSE..... Which somehow ended up with Scully as the UNIVERSAL Champion. THAT, my friends, should have set off some serious warning signs.

Scully.

There is a fellow without a clue, but let us not get fixated on him. Scully, of course, opened the window for a series of unfortunate UNIVERSAL Title reigns. Peter... Bruce Blingsteen.... Chris Chaos.... Gabe Reno.... and, of course, Robbie Bourbon.

Now, I am the first to admit, that I have always been a "Bourbon-Man". I've alwasy rooted for the man in the mask. The man of the people. The behind WHATEVER sort of committee you wish to have. If there is one thing I am NOT perfect at, Mister Bourbon, it is names. Ask your dear girlfriend for my forgiveness over the last time I was addressing her, which was to only refer to that committee.

Anyway. When Robbie Bourbon was fighting James Raven for the UNIVERSAL TItle, needless to say, I was in Robbie's corner ALL the way. Not just because "FUCK JAMES RAVEN", but because! I AM A BOURBON-MAN! And when the night was over and the UNIVERSAL Championship was over your shoulder..... I had a little peace of mind. For the first time since I, Doctor Louis D'Ville, held that championship.... It was being held for the people. As I did for each and every one of my patients, I expected the same from you with your people. I expected a long, healthy title reign that could, perhaps, one-day been compared to my own!

NOT what happened. If at any time in your career you looked like absolute shit THEN. Not last week. Not when I defeated you for the XWF Tag Team Titles. To be stripped of the UNIVERSAL Championship is an absolute disgrace, in my book. Compare that to when Hulk Hogan dropped the leg at Bash at the Beach. It shock the world of every child fan in existence. When you were stripped of that title, Mister Bourbon, a small piece of fandom went with it. The respect is STILL intact. It takes far more than you making yourself look stupid for me to totally lose it for you. I'm even still a fan. I have to admit, I did mark-out some these last couple of weeks. Week one, I got my long-awaited match with the alien. Now, I face-off against one of my favorite heroes of the people. Captain Underdawg. Part of the "#NotAllHeroesAreInShape" Movement.

So, yeah, I can kind of get on board with you on looking like crap sometimes, but to defend your fellow Mother Fucker, BWP, over this? Come on. COME ON. There you go looking ridiculous again. You bring this on yourself, Mister Bourbon. I remember some time ago when you Motherfuckers first realized your common interests and decided to attempt to dethrone the KINGS™. You came, made your little appearance to show us you were interested, then dispappointingly never persued us again. Is it our fault that we never had a chance to dance for a second time? I know two of our four were in limbo during some of that, but that's hardly a reason to say we would have never had the chance. Mister Pryce and I were always up for a challenge. It wasn't until the challenges became so... non-challenging that I was finally done with it. Let the other kids play, if you will. So, am I going senile? Is my brain deteriorating. Or am I just stupid to believe that you believing in your partner is just absurd. I have watched War Pig blow more chances at greatness than Peter Gilmour in his twenty-plus years in this FINE federation. Did he not recently lose the Xtreme Championship to Rain? Buddy, if that ain't the definition of shatting the bed in it's purest form, then I don't know how literal we're trying to get here.

Like I said at the beginning here, what a most glorious come back I am having. Things that I have long waited to happen are happening and the road ahead seems as dark as it was before I left. The very second that I finally stepped back on soil, the moment I made my first appearance back, the instant I walked through the flames on the stage at Warfare.... The UNIVERSE went back on notice. If they didn't take note, Robert, they took notice. I may stand in the shadows, linger, and live under rocks, but my mere presence has already shaken this place. More heads will turn this week when I drop you on your head and you share a similiar fate as that alien. Your conciousness will fade just as your life did in the lime light. You will bleed the colors of your country, which I will use to paint the halls of the Richmond Collisium. Wednesday night, the doctor will help Robbie Bourbon realize his true potential. The doctor will bring Robbie Bourbon back to life and back to the glorious lime light that now avoids him. It will have no choice but to focus on the good doctor and his patient. I would not worry about looking too much like shit this week, Mister Bourbon.... You are going to lose very badly, but at the same time, I'll make you look so good doing it.