Post by "The Geriatric One" on Jun 11, 2010 16:11:00 GMT -6
(Waylon Hawthorne sits in a room with padded walls. He is in a straight jacket. He looks to be semi-comatose. His eyes are open, but he seems unresponsive. Nurse Cratchett walks into the room. He picks Hawthorne up and takes him to the shock therapy room. Cratchett lies him on a table. He hooks up the shock therapy equipment. Just as he's about to shock him, the door swings open and a man in a business suit, and a teenage boy walk into the room.)
NURSE CRATCHETT: Who are you?
MAN IN SUIT: I am Horatio Hawthorne, that's my Father on the table.
CRATCHETT: Right, Horatio long time no see. I trust that you are pleased that we have recaptured the old man.
HORATIO: Yes well, I am pleased, as I believe that he is a danger to himself and others, unfortunately my stubborn son Rory wishes to be reunited with his Grandpa.
RORY: Reunited? You told me he was dead.
HORATIO: He was filling your mind with dreams of being a Pro Wrestler. The last time we left you with him unsupervised the two of you got into a brawl with 10 bikers.
(Hawthorne sits up.)
HAWTHORNE: We would have won too if it hadn't been for those cops showing up. I was setting the head biker up for the Chicken Wing when they showed up.
CRATCHETT: Lie down old man. Don't make me up the amps on your shock therapy treatment.
(Hawthorne lies back down.)
CRATCHETT: Is there something I can do for you Horatio?
HORATIO: Yes, uh, I'm afraid I'm going to have to release the old man into my care.
CRATCHETT: Now Horatio, we discussed the dangers of this when you first had him admitted.
HORATIO: Yes, I understand. Unfortunately my son insists. He has some power over me. The last thing I need is for him to air my dirty laundry in the handling of the old man's situation to my ex wife. I'm sure the details of which could be crippling to you as well, so I suggest you give me the papers and release the old man into my care.
(An hour later, Nurse Cratchett walks the Hawthorne family to the door. Horatio, and Rory walk out but Waylon stays back and turns to Cratchett.)
HAWTHORNE: Don't worry Cratchett, I have no hard feelings. I assume that living your whole life as a closeted homosexual would cause the kind of anger you showed towards me.
CRATCHETT: How did you know?
HAWTHORNE: I saw the Clay Aiken CD in your desk drawer, and I put 2 and 2 together.
CRATCHETT: Listen old man, I will be watching you very closely. The second I get something on you, you'll be back here quicker than you can say supercalifragilistic...
(Hawthorne walks away and slams the door on Cratchett's face. He approaches the car where Rory is sitting in the front seat. Horatio holds the backseat door open for him.)
HORATIO: What did you and Nurse Cratchett talk about?
HAWTHORNE: He said that there were some papers that you forgot to sign.
HORATIO: Oh, I'll go take care of that then.
HAWTHORNE: Wait, how bout a hug for your old man?
HORATIO: Oh... uh.... ok.
(The two share an awkward hug. Waylon reaches into his son's pocket and pulls out the car keys.)
HORATIO: I'll just go sign those papers. I'll be right back.
HAWTHORNE: I'll be waiting.
(As soon as Horatio disappears in the home Hawthorne jumps in the front seat and starts the engine.)
RORY: Hey, where did you get the keys?
HAWTHORNE: You don't think I would ever willingly hug my son do you?
RORY: Genius.
HAWTHORNE: Let's get out of here.
(Hawthorne peels out of the parking lot. Horatio and Cratchett run out after the car, but can't keep up. Hawthorne and his grandson Rory laugh in the car.)
RORY: So where are we going Gramps?
HAWTHORNE: We're off to Minneapolis. If we really hurry I might just make it in time to get my shot at becoming the #1 Contender for the SWA Championship.
RORY: Who are you fighting?
HAWTHORNE: Some little punk called Danny O'Callahan. I saw his little promo on TV last night. I don't know what made me laugh harder, the desperate attempt at sounding tough, or the little after school special at the end. This kid is just a typical arrogant little brat who thinks he's the toughest guy in town. I'm gonna show him that this geezers's still got it.
RORY: You're still the toughest guy I know.
HAWTHORNE: Well, that's not really saying much. Your Father, and your uncles are all a bunch of pansies. I don't know where I went wrong with them, but you seemed to have turned out ok.
RORY: You know what I mean Grandpa. You're tougher than anyone I've ever seen.
HAWTHORNE: Yes, well that's true. You see what this O'Callahan kid doesn't realize is that I was breaking hippies noses in the 60's before he was even a twinkle in his daddy's eye. I stood toe to toe with Andre The Giant. Of course he squashed me in 60 seconds, but I only let it happen cause I felt sorry for him on account of his terrible afro. This O'Callahan kid has a couple fights growing up and thinks he's as tough as nails, while I'm tougher than nails, and twice as durable.
RORY: So what are you gonna do to him Grandpa?
HAWTHORNE: You know what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna get jiggy with it, in a Geriatric fashion all over his Massachussetts Mick face. Then I'm gonna take on the rest of those SWA punks and go on to become the #1 Contender.
RORY: Who do you think you'll be facing in the finals?
HAWTHORNE: It doesn't really matter. This new Depardieu guy seems pretty quiet. Captain Insanity will probably be too drunk to stand by the end of the night. Queer Throb is a pansy, and I still owe Van Der Kamp a lickin' that will keep on tickin' because of his last victory over me. I'll take them all on, them and the jailbird Irish bug. No one in the SWA can match my experience, my in ring ability, or my cat like reflexes. I will be the #1 Contender, then I'll show that Filipino DJ Champion of yours what a real champion is like.
RORY: I'm so glad your not dead Grandpa.
HAWTHORNE: Me too my boy, me too!
(The car speeds away on the road to Minneapolis.)
NURSE CRATCHETT: Who are you?
MAN IN SUIT: I am Horatio Hawthorne, that's my Father on the table.
CRATCHETT: Right, Horatio long time no see. I trust that you are pleased that we have recaptured the old man.
HORATIO: Yes well, I am pleased, as I believe that he is a danger to himself and others, unfortunately my stubborn son Rory wishes to be reunited with his Grandpa.
RORY: Reunited? You told me he was dead.
HORATIO: He was filling your mind with dreams of being a Pro Wrestler. The last time we left you with him unsupervised the two of you got into a brawl with 10 bikers.
(Hawthorne sits up.)
HAWTHORNE: We would have won too if it hadn't been for those cops showing up. I was setting the head biker up for the Chicken Wing when they showed up.
CRATCHETT: Lie down old man. Don't make me up the amps on your shock therapy treatment.
(Hawthorne lies back down.)
CRATCHETT: Is there something I can do for you Horatio?
HORATIO: Yes, uh, I'm afraid I'm going to have to release the old man into my care.
CRATCHETT: Now Horatio, we discussed the dangers of this when you first had him admitted.
HORATIO: Yes, I understand. Unfortunately my son insists. He has some power over me. The last thing I need is for him to air my dirty laundry in the handling of the old man's situation to my ex wife. I'm sure the details of which could be crippling to you as well, so I suggest you give me the papers and release the old man into my care.
(An hour later, Nurse Cratchett walks the Hawthorne family to the door. Horatio, and Rory walk out but Waylon stays back and turns to Cratchett.)
HAWTHORNE: Don't worry Cratchett, I have no hard feelings. I assume that living your whole life as a closeted homosexual would cause the kind of anger you showed towards me.
CRATCHETT: How did you know?
HAWTHORNE: I saw the Clay Aiken CD in your desk drawer, and I put 2 and 2 together.
CRATCHETT: Listen old man, I will be watching you very closely. The second I get something on you, you'll be back here quicker than you can say supercalifragilistic...
(Hawthorne walks away and slams the door on Cratchett's face. He approaches the car where Rory is sitting in the front seat. Horatio holds the backseat door open for him.)
HORATIO: What did you and Nurse Cratchett talk about?
HAWTHORNE: He said that there were some papers that you forgot to sign.
HORATIO: Oh, I'll go take care of that then.
HAWTHORNE: Wait, how bout a hug for your old man?
HORATIO: Oh... uh.... ok.
(The two share an awkward hug. Waylon reaches into his son's pocket and pulls out the car keys.)
HORATIO: I'll just go sign those papers. I'll be right back.
HAWTHORNE: I'll be waiting.
(As soon as Horatio disappears in the home Hawthorne jumps in the front seat and starts the engine.)
RORY: Hey, where did you get the keys?
HAWTHORNE: You don't think I would ever willingly hug my son do you?
RORY: Genius.
HAWTHORNE: Let's get out of here.
(Hawthorne peels out of the parking lot. Horatio and Cratchett run out after the car, but can't keep up. Hawthorne and his grandson Rory laugh in the car.)
RORY: So where are we going Gramps?
HAWTHORNE: We're off to Minneapolis. If we really hurry I might just make it in time to get my shot at becoming the #1 Contender for the SWA Championship.
RORY: Who are you fighting?
HAWTHORNE: Some little punk called Danny O'Callahan. I saw his little promo on TV last night. I don't know what made me laugh harder, the desperate attempt at sounding tough, or the little after school special at the end. This kid is just a typical arrogant little brat who thinks he's the toughest guy in town. I'm gonna show him that this geezers's still got it.
RORY: You're still the toughest guy I know.
HAWTHORNE: Well, that's not really saying much. Your Father, and your uncles are all a bunch of pansies. I don't know where I went wrong with them, but you seemed to have turned out ok.
RORY: You know what I mean Grandpa. You're tougher than anyone I've ever seen.
HAWTHORNE: Yes, well that's true. You see what this O'Callahan kid doesn't realize is that I was breaking hippies noses in the 60's before he was even a twinkle in his daddy's eye. I stood toe to toe with Andre The Giant. Of course he squashed me in 60 seconds, but I only let it happen cause I felt sorry for him on account of his terrible afro. This O'Callahan kid has a couple fights growing up and thinks he's as tough as nails, while I'm tougher than nails, and twice as durable.
RORY: So what are you gonna do to him Grandpa?
HAWTHORNE: You know what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna get jiggy with it, in a Geriatric fashion all over his Massachussetts Mick face. Then I'm gonna take on the rest of those SWA punks and go on to become the #1 Contender.
RORY: Who do you think you'll be facing in the finals?
HAWTHORNE: It doesn't really matter. This new Depardieu guy seems pretty quiet. Captain Insanity will probably be too drunk to stand by the end of the night. Queer Throb is a pansy, and I still owe Van Der Kamp a lickin' that will keep on tickin' because of his last victory over me. I'll take them all on, them and the jailbird Irish bug. No one in the SWA can match my experience, my in ring ability, or my cat like reflexes. I will be the #1 Contender, then I'll show that Filipino DJ Champion of yours what a real champion is like.
RORY: I'm so glad your not dead Grandpa.
HAWTHORNE: Me too my boy, me too!
(The car speeds away on the road to Minneapolis.)
