CBWL 034

 Scene: Best Western – Duluth, Georgia – 7:35am

Cowboy Watts and Jim Ross are sitting in a cramped room at the Best Western just down the road from Gas South Arena. The room smells like old carpet and cheap coffee. Cowboy has the booking sheet spread out on the bed while JR sits in the only chair, flipping through his copy.

They’ve been going over the show one last time.

Cowboy Watts: (exhaling smoke out the cracked window) Alright. I think we’re good. Nasty as hell, but it’s our kind of nasty.

He starts gathering up the papers when there’s a knock at the door. Arnold Palmer steps in, looking like he’s already had a long morning.

Arnold Palmer: Morning. Quick question — any word on when the ring’s supposed to get here?

Before Cowboy can answer, Larry David walks in behind him, holding a styrofoam cup of hotel coffee.

Larry David: Yeah, and has anybody heard from Jack yet? I got two refs asking me what time they’re supposed to be at the building.

Jim Ross: (looking over at Cowboy) Speaking of which… who’s actually bringing the ring today?

Cowboy opens his mouth, then slowly closes it. A look of realization crosses his face.

Cowboy Watts: (quietly) …Jack’s guy who knew a guy.

Jim Ross turns to him.

Jim Ross: What?

Cowboy Watts: (rubbing his face) Jack said he knew a guy who knew a guy who could handle the ring. I told him to take care of it. Never followed up.

Larry David stares at him.

Larry David: So we’re in Duluth, Georgia, six hours before doors, and we don’t actually know where the ring is or who’s bringing it?

Cowboy grabs the hotel phone off the nightstand and starts aggressively pressing buttons.

Cowboy Watts: (muttering) How the fuck do you work this goddamn thing…

He finally gets a dial tone, dials Jack Black’s number, and puts it on speaker. It starts ringing.

And ringing.

And ringing.

Cowboy stares at the phone with pure disdain.

Cowboy Watts: This motherfucker better pick up…

Cowboy Watts is still fuming at the phone after another failed attempt to reach Jack Black. He slams the receiver down.

Cowboy Watts: This is ridiculous. We got a show in six hours and we don’t even know where the fuckin’ ring is.

Arnold Palmer: (trying to be helpful) Well… I don’t know about the ring, but I did run into Tony around 3 this morning by the ice machine. He said he was going to go pick up the backstage announcer. Told me he had her at another hotel a couple towns over.

The room goes quiet for a second.

Jim Ross: (frowning) Why would he have her two towns over?

Arnold Palmer: (shrugging) I don’t know. I figured he was just trying to save money on the room. You know how he is.

Cowboy barely reacts. He’s already moved past it.

Cowboy Watts: (waving it off) We’ll deal with that later. Right now I need to know where the goddamn ring is. Larry, you got any idea who Jack’s guy is?

Larry David: Not a clue. He just said he had it handled.

Jim Ross: (sighing) Try Tony again. If anybody actually knows what’s going on with the ring, it’s probably him.

Cowboy picks the phone back up and dials Tony Soprano. It rings… then goes straight to voicemail.

Cowboy Watts: (growing more frustrated) Of course he ain’t answering. Why would anybody answer their fuckin’ phone today?

He tries one more time. Straight to voicemail again.

Cowboy stares at the phone for a second, then slowly sets it down. He looks around the room at everyone.

Cowboy Watts: (flat) We got four thousand tickets sold, a thousand walk-ups expected, and we don’t know where the ring is or who’s bringing it. And nobody can find Jack or Tony.

He rubs his face with both hands.

Cowboy Watts: This is already a shitshow and the doors ain’t even open yet.

Jack Black strolls in holding his gas station coffee, looking completely relaxed.

Cowboy Watts: (staring at him) Jack… where’s your guy?

Jack Black: (casually taking a sip) Oh, I couldn’t get my guy yet.

The room goes quiet.

Jim Ross: (slowly) …What do you mean you couldn’t get your guy?

Jack Black: (gesturing with his coffee) Well, you guys never told this guy to hit up my guy, who then would’ve hit up his guy, who knows another guy. So now my guy doesn’t even know he’s supposed to be the guy bringing the ring, because nobody looped in the guy who talks to my guy. You see what I’m saying, guys?

The room is dead silent for a second.

Larry David slowly turns to look at Jack like he’s trying to decide if he’s joking or just stupid.

Arnold Palmer: (confused) …So… is the ring coming or not?

Jack Black: (shrugging) I mean, probably? Once somebody tells the right guy to tell my guy to tell his guy. It’s a whole chain, you know? Very delicate ecosystem of guys.

Cowboy Watts stares at him for a long moment, his left eye twitching.

Cowboy Watts: (low, dangerous) Jack… get the fuck out of this room.

Jack Black: (blinking) Wait, really?

Cowboy Watts: (voice rising) Yes, really. Get out. Right now. Before I lose what little patience I have left.

Jack Black looks around at everyone’s faces, realizes nobody is laughing, and slowly backs toward the door.

Jack Black: (muttering) Alright, alright… touchy this morning…

He slips out of the room.

As soon as the door closes, Cowboy turns to Jim Ross, looking like he’s about two seconds from snapping.

Cowboy Watts: (gritting his teeth) I need to make some emergency calls. Right now. Before this whole goddamn show falls apart before it even starts.

He grabs the hotel phone again, clearly done playing nice.