Post by Mort Goodman, Esq. on Oct 28, 2016 2:07:42 GMT
INT. RIDGEWOOD HIGH SCHOOL GYM - RIDGEWOOD, NJ - EVENING (2002)
A wrestling dual meet between the Ridgewood Maroons and the Schuylerville Barbrawlers is underway. Both sides of the bleachers are packed and the energy level is high.
In the center of the gym, a referee stands on the center of a wrestling mat. On opposite sides of the mat, two teams of wrestlers are stationed, waiting for the announcement of the next match.
The scoreboard hanging on the far wall reads, "Ridgewood 42, Schuylerville 44."
Onto the mat, wearing the crimson and gold singlet, steps HORACE POULIN, 18, mean, chiseled, likely left back a year or two. He moves to the center of the mat to sound a resounding jeers from the hometown crowd.
The school's band gets the crowd going with a lively brass and drum rendition of Ozzy Osbourne's "Crazy Train."
Our attention turns to the side of the mat where the Ridgewood squad is stationed. MORT GOODMAN, 48, coach of the Ridgewood squad. He is giving last minute instructions to his star athlete, CARTER HAYES, 18, sporting the maroon and grey singlet, while one of Carter's teammates is loosening Carter's arms.
Mort pats Carter, and the young grappler runs to the center of the mat. Carter is clearly undersized next to his sculpted opponent, who looks like he wants to tear Carter's head off.
The ref blows the whistle, and before you can say "here we go," Carter shoots a swift low single and snatches hold of Horace's meaty leg and takes him to the mat for a takedown as the crowd goes bananas.
Instead of riding Horace, Carter lets his opponent up.
As soon as Horace gets to his feet, Carter shoots in for a power double: his speed proves too much for Horace, and Carter scores his second takedown.
Carter backs up a couple feet to allow Horace the opportunity to get to his feet again. While Carter waits for Horace to get up, he shoots a wink at the girl at the Schuylerville scorekeeper's table.
Horace is pissed. He waves Carter on, challenging the Crybaby to lock up with him. Carter locks up, and Horace attempts to use his superior strength to muscle Hayes around, but Carter uses a duck under to slide behind Horace and take his back. Carter lifts the Schuylerville beast and puts him on his back.
The ref drops to the canvas, ready to count the pin, but Horace manages to keep his shoulders off the mat.
Carter lets Horace up.
At this point, the scoreboard reads, "Carter Hayes 9, Horace Poulin 3. Horace, from his knees, pounds the mat. He gets to his feet and charges Carter, who catches him with a hip toss to the ground.
Looks defeated, and hesitant to initiate with Carter. He reluctantly locks up with Carter again, who uses an inside trip to fall Horace for a fourth time.
Carter hops to his feet and starts running circles around the interior perimeter of the mat, waiting for his hesitant of to rise. Horace doesn't bother getting up, as the buzzer sounds, signifying the end of period.
The scoreboard reads, "Carter Hayes 13, Horace Poulin 3
The crowd is chanting Carter's name. The two combatants retreat to their respective corners.
Carter is greeted in his corner with a water bottle from a teammate, and look of frustration from Mort.
Carter shoots another wink at the cute blonde Schuylerville scorekeeper as the ref calls Carter back to the middle.
The ref pulls out a coin, red on one side and green on the other, and flips it into the air. It lands with the green side up. The ref looks to Carter.
Carter points down, signifying he has elected to start the second period in the bottom position. He gets on his hands and knees on the center of the mat, and Horace assumes the position on top of Carter.
The ref blows the whistle and Carter explodes to his feet, out of Horace's grip.
The two circle on their feet and Carter executes another double leg, taking Horace down to the mat on his back.
Horace squirms free.
The scoreboard reads, ref blows the whistle and waves off the match.
The scoreboard reads, "Carter Hayes 18, Horace Poulin 3." The ref blows the whistle, calling for an end of the match, with Carter winning via scholastic wrestling's "mercy rule"-- a technical fall.
Carter, ever the tactless winner, begins dancing and strutting as the crowd cheers. In the background, Horace is fuming.
Mort watches on from the sidelines, shaking his head at his protege.
INT. LAW OFFICE OF MORT GOODMAN - MORNING (PRESENT DAY)
We catch up with Mort, fourteen years removed from the evening that Carter Hayes scored the technical fall victory over Horace Poulin.
In front of him, on the desk, the local Ridgewood Suburban newspaper is opened to the sports section.
Something in the paper has Mort seriously stressed out.
INSERT - NEWSPAPER
"Schuylerville Brings 11-Year-Old Wrestling Prodigy
Stevo Poulin to Ridgewood for Dual Meet Friday Night."
END INSERT
There is a knock at the door. It opens, and in enters AUDREY REYNOLDS, 24, Mort's secretary.
Audrey stops herself. She has an uneasy look about her.
Audrey cringes. She exits, shutting the door behind her.
Mort finds the file in his e-mail, and clicks on it:
Mort's face his white, his eyes fixed on the screen in horror. He looks to the framed picture of his pudgy little grandson on his desk:
A wrestling dual meet between the Ridgewood Maroons and the Schuylerville Barbrawlers is underway. Both sides of the bleachers are packed and the energy level is high.
In the center of the gym, a referee stands on the center of a wrestling mat. On opposite sides of the mat, two teams of wrestlers are stationed, waiting for the announcement of the next match.
The scoreboard hanging on the far wall reads, "Ridgewood 42, Schuylerville 44."
INTERCOM (O.S.)
Now wrestling in the 171 pound
division, from Schuylerville with
a record of 22-2, Horace Poulin!
INTERCOM (O.S.)
And wrestling for the Ridgewood Maroons,
with a season record 27-0, and a career
record of 112-0, here is Carter Hayess!
Our attention turns to the side of the mat where the Ridgewood squad is stationed. MORT GOODMAN, 48, coach of the Ridgewood squad. He is giving last minute instructions to his star athlete, CARTER HAYES, 18, sporting the maroon and grey singlet, while one of Carter's teammates is loosening Carter's arms.
MORT
Alright Carter, I don't want anything
fancy, okay? We don't need a pin, just
a win. A win gives us three points and
the team lead, okay? No showboating.
Carter's attention is elsewhere, as he is making eyes with the young blonde scorekeeper for the Schulerville Barnbrawlers.
Mort snaps his finds, capturing his protege's attention.
MORT
Carter, you listening to me?
MORT
You listening to me?
CARTER
I got it. No showboating.
REFEREE
Let's go coach, we need your wrestler out here.
MORT
Alright, go get 'em champ.
The ref blows the whistle, and before you can say "here we go," Carter shoots a swift low single and snatches hold of Horace's meaty leg and takes him to the mat for a takedown as the crowd goes bananas.
REFEREE
Takedown-- two!
REFEREE
One point escape!
REFEREE
Takedown -- two!
Once again, Carter opts to let his opponent up.
REFEREE
One point escape!
Horace is pissed. He waves Carter on, challenging the Crybaby to lock up with him. Carter locks up, and Horace attempts to use his superior strength to muscle Hayes around, but Carter uses a duck under to slide behind Horace and take his back. Carter lifts the Schuylerville beast and puts him on his back.
REFEREE
Takedown - two!
REFEREE
Three points, nearfall!
REFEREE
One point escape!
MORT
Carter, what did I say!?! No show boating!
REFEREE
Takedown-- two!
REFEREE
Two!
The scoreboard reads, "Carter Hayes 13, Horace Poulin 3
The crowd is chanting Carter's name. The two combatants retreat to their respective corners.
Carter is greeted in his corner with a water bottle from a teammate, and look of frustration from Mort.
MORT
What the hell are you
doing!?! What did I say!?!
CARTER
Relax, Mort, let me have some fun.
MORT
Carter, I am telling you, you keep
playing around and karma is gonna
find a way of biting you in the ass.
CARTER
Not tonight, Mort, not tonight.
OFFICIAL
Your choice.
The ref blows the whistle and Carter explodes to his feet, out of Horace's grip.
OFFICIAL
One-- escape!
Horace squirms free.
OFFICIAL
Two-- takedown! Two-- nearfall!
The scoreboard reads, "Carter Hayes 18, Horace Poulin 3." The ref blows the whistle, calling for an end of the match, with Carter winning via scholastic wrestling's "mercy rule"-- a technical fall.
Carter, ever the tactless winner, begins dancing and strutting as the crowd cheers. In the background, Horace is fuming.
Mort watches on from the sidelines, shaking his head at his protege.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. LAW OFFICE OF MORT GOODMAN - MORNING (PRESENT DAY)
We catch up with Mort, fourteen years removed from the evening that Carter Hayes scored the technical fall victory over Horace Poulin.
In front of him, on the desk, the local Ridgewood Suburban newspaper is opened to the sports section.
Something in the paper has Mort seriously stressed out.
MORT
Ah shit.
"Schuylerville Brings 11-Year-Old Wrestling Prodigy
Stevo Poulin to Ridgewood for Dual Meet Friday Night."
END INSERT
There is a knock at the door. It opens, and in enters AUDREY REYNOLDS, 24, Mort's secretary.
AUDREY
Mort, I just e-mailed you that footage
you were looking for of that Poulin kid.
It's about four or five years old, but--
MORT
But?
AUDREY
Is your grandson really wrestling
this kid this weekend?
MORT
Cammy's gonna be fine.
Mort finds the file in his e-mail, and clicks on it:
Mort's face his white, his eyes fixed on the screen in horror. He looks to the framed picture of his pudgy little grandson on his desk:
Mort gulps. He presses the intercom button on his best.
AUDREY (O.S.)
Yes?
MORT
Look up where I can find Horace Poulin.
CUT TO:
EXT. SCHUYLERVILLE MIDDLE SCHOOL - AFTERNOON
A silver Mercedes pulls into the parking lot and comes to a stop in a spot near the entrance.
The door opens and Mort steps out of the car.
He looks up toward the entrance of the school. He takes a deep breath before making his way toward the front doors.
A silver Mercedes pulls into the parking lot and comes to a stop in a spot near the entrance.
The door opens and Mort steps out of the car.
He looks up toward the entrance of the school. He takes a deep breath before making his way toward the front doors.
CUT TO:
INT. SCHULERVILLE MIDDLE SCHOOL - GYM - CONTINUOUS
A Schulerville Barnbrawler youth wrestling practice is in session. The scene is intense. Kids ranging in age from 6 through 12 are running spin drills, as a team of coaches pace the floor, barking out instructions.
Running shop as head instructor is none other than HORACE POULIN, 33, a tank of a man. He looks even bigger and badder than the beast who wrestled Carter Hayes fourteen years earlier.
A Schulerville Barnbrawler youth wrestling practice is in session. The scene is intense. Kids ranging in age from 6 through 12 are running spin drills, as a team of coaches pace the floor, barking out instructions.
Running shop as head instructor is none other than HORACE POULIN, 33, a tank of a man. He looks even bigger and badder than the beast who wrestled Carter Hayes fourteen years earlier.
He barks orders at his students like a drill sergeant.
HORACE
Let's go! I wanna see more
intensity! You wannt be here,
you need to show me! You gotta
want it! If you don't want it
bad enough, then you're wasting
my time time! Harder! Harder!
Let's go! I wanna see more
intensity! You wannt be here,
you need to show me! You gotta
want it! If you don't want it
bad enough, then you're wasting
my time time! Harder! Harder!
Mort enters the gym and takes inventory, scanning the room. It does not take look for him to spot Horace, the man he has come to see. Horace spots Mort just as quickly. Horace smirks, and works his way over to Mort.
HORACE
Well, well, well--
Well, well, well--
Mort extends his hand as a gesture to Horace.
MORT
Horace, I'm--
HORACE
Mort Goodman. What,
you think I'd forget?
MORT
I don't know, it's been
how long, ten years?
HORACE
You mean since the night you
and your boy Carter decided
to embarass me. I'd say it's
been about fourteen years,
but hey, who's counting, right?
to Schulerville, you out here to
do some scouting for Friday's meet?
MORT
Actually, I was hoping to talk to you
about that. I've been following your
son-- he's quite the wrestler.
HORACE
You mean Stevo? Yeah, he's doing
alright for himself, has a couple
of titles to his name. Some even
say he may surpass the almighty
Carter Hayes as New Jersey's top
wrestler of all time, and he's only
twelve-- can you believe that?
Horace, I'm--
HORACE
Mort Goodman. What,
you think I'd forget?
MORT
I don't know, it's been
how long, ten years?
HORACE
You mean since the night you
and your boy Carter decided
to embarass me. I'd say it's
been about fourteen years,
but hey, who's counting, right?
Mort nods, and offers a soft smile of diplomacy.
So tell me, what brings you out HORACE
to Schulerville, you out here to
do some scouting for Friday's meet?
MORT
Actually, I was hoping to talk to you
about that. I've been following your
son-- he's quite the wrestler.
HORACE
You mean Stevo? Yeah, he's doing
alright for himself, has a couple
of titles to his name. Some even
say he may surpass the almighty
Carter Hayes as New Jersey's top
wrestler of all time, and he's only
twelve-- can you believe that?
Horace scans the room for his son.
HORACE
Stevo!
Stevo!
Little Stevo Poulin jogs over to his father's side-- his scowl a spitting image of his old man. The young wrestling prodigy is much bigger and than in the picture from the paper.
HORACE
Stevo, this is Mort Goodman. Mr.
Goodman has come by to ask me a
question, didn't you Mort?
Stevo, this is Mort Goodman. Mr.
Goodman has come by to ask me a
question, didn't you Mort?
Mort does not respond. He looks confused.
HORACE
That's right, Mr. Goodman has
travelled here all the way from
Ridgewood to ask your old man to
bump you up or down a weight class
Friday night so that his grandson--
Cameron, that's his name, right-- so
that Cameron can be spared from the
humiliation of having to wrestle you.
But we can't do that. No, see we've
been training too hard for this one.
Stevo, show Mr. Goodman how we've
been training for this one.
grandson that the humiliation, it passes
over time. I'll see you Friday night, Mort.
Oh, and please do give Carter my regards.
That's right, Mr. Goodman has
travelled here all the way from
Ridgewood to ask your old man to
bump you up or down a weight class
Friday night so that his grandson--
Cameron, that's his name, right-- so
that Cameron can be spared from the
humiliation of having to wrestle you.
But we can't do that. No, see we've
been training too hard for this one.
Stevo, show Mr. Goodman how we've
been training for this one.
Stevo runs back to his teammates. Mort watches as Stevo squares off with one of his teammates. He swarms his opponent, picking him up with ease and slamming him to the mat with a thud that echoes throughout the gymnasium.
Horace turns to Mort.
Don't worry Mort, you can tell your Horace turns to Mort.
HORACE
grandson that the humiliation, it passes
over time. I'll see you Friday night, Mort.
Oh, and please do give Carter my regards.
FADE TO BLACK
