*Inhale*

[The first vague glimpses reach their way into my mind. For an instant I can see everything from a distance, from some place way up high, looking down on the entire world below me. But not just an overhead view of the Earth; I can see everything, everything that is happening in the world, everywhere. I can see so many things, that very few actually stand out as interesting to me. I can see My ill-fated tag partner for this upcoming Wednesday, Chris Carpenter rehearsing his next quote unquote promotional video in his hotel bedroom; Galavanting on about how Marcus Gaines has his back no matter what. I can only shake my head in disaproval. Keep on thinking that way, f^cknut.]

*Exhale*

[Among other things, I can see back to half a year ago, when placed in a similar situation in the wrestling world as I am now. A man, very much involved in singles competition placed in a tag match, basically against my will. Apparently it was all set up to form a team of useless nothings to further a halfway, right-wing political agenda. It stunk then, and this one stinks now. Same person as my partner, different people we have to face. Looking at the match and taking one man out, it's exactly the same as my returning match no more than a week ago. I don't know if it was callously greedy Chris Carpenter who asked for this match simply so he could leach off my coattails yet again; Or if it was requested by one of these Johnny's so they could try their hand at inspiring fear in the hearts of people who could care less about them. I don't know any of these men.... Johnny Blaze? Didn't I beat his ass last week? Chris Carpenter? Ditto. Johnny Storm? I have no idea who he is. I hate the smell of setups. This one smells worse than any I've smelled.]

*Inhale*

[My mouth tastes like battery acid. The burning sensation seeps it's way down my throat until it's all I can taste. Taste's like a damn setup. Just like this stupid match I'm set in. What sort of masochistic moron is Johnny Blaze? He couldn't beat Carpenter or myself last week, he thinks he can do it this time with the help of someone who also has the name of Johnny. If that's their leverage: the name Johnny, than this should be quite an amusing match. I've heard the name Johnny Storm before, haven't I? My throat burns. Isn't Johnny Storm the Gladiator Champion or something? Interesting bout of luck that is; After I'm done wiping his ego off the ring, I'll have to make a stop for his title.]

*Exhale*

[Through my veins it courses, spreading itself all over until the only thing I can feel are it's overwhelmingly gripping fingers racing all over my body.I feel burnt beyond belief, yet strangely fine. All of that which troubled me before is but a distant memory now. Sitting here, in my hotel room, I look to my left, noticing now, someone sitting next to me that wasn't there before. Shocked, I recoil at first. But then, upon recognizing who it is, I relax, letting my muscles untighten, and my body slowly pacifiy itself.]

Gaines: Angela Lansbury?

[She nods, her smiling face changing repeatedly from a young, unwithered version of herself, to an old wrinkly, truer version of the Murder She Wrote star.]

Gaines: THE Angela Lansbury?

[She cocks her head to one side and nods politely again.]

Gaines: MURDER SHE WROTE, IN THE FLESH?!

[Her face becomes a fixture of annoyance, yet her gracefulness eases her through the brief moment of discomfort.]

Gaines: Uh, Miss Lansbury, May I raise an practical question before I ask all the usual questions?

Angela Lansbury: Sure, dear. But please don't call me miss Lansbury. Makes me sound like an old goose. Call me Angie. 'Kay?

Gaines: [Nodding.] Sure thing. Uhm. Practical question first. Why does your face keep changing like that?

[A confused look crosses her face as she attempts to look at herself in the reflection of my eyes.]

Angela Lansbury: Whatever do you mean, dear?

[Looking around I notice a mirror hanging on an otherwise blank, expressionless wall to my left. I move her towards the mirror until she is standing right in front of it. Once her eyes catch her reflection she leaps back, aghast at her constant transfiguring features. Ageless, she turns to look at me.]

Angela Lansbury: Hmmm. I hope this isn't going to affect you too much... I'm sure if I was talking to someone in my head and they were constantly going from young to old to young again I'd probably go into a lengthy seizure.

[She laughs wildly for a moment while I can really only raise one eyebrow at her in wonderment.]

Gaines: Me? Flip out because of a simple transfiguring? Nah. I'm as calm as the bomb.

Angela Lansbury: Good, then, we can get on with it now.

[She begins walking towards the hotel room door, beckoning for me to follow her occasionally.]

Gaines: Angie... Uh. What's going on here? Am I dreaming all of this up right now?

[She stops walking and turns to look at me for a moment.]

Angela Lansbury: To be quite honest, Marcus; I have no idea what's going on here. I am only here to help confused people find their way. Understand?

[I shake my head furiously from side to side.]

Gaines: Hell no.

Angela Lansbury: [Sighing loudly.] Ho hum. Look are you confused right now?

Gaines: Hell yes.

Angela Lansbury: Good. Then that's all the information we need right now, isn't it? Come on.

[She turns around and walks out the door leaving me to follow along after her, still not sure exactly what is going on. Am I dreaming? Or worse am I dead? Glancing back I note that not only is my body still sitting upright on the floor where I had originally set myself, but my eyes are open and I've broken into a deep sweat. Not sure what to take from this image, I keep following Angela Lansbury.]

[Down a long corridor she moves, wistfully, wraithlike flowing around like water down a canal. She looks almost like she's skipping along, only now her feet are covered by long tattered rags that seem to glide eerily along behind her, semi-transparent. I watch her, following along behind with some space between us as she uncharacteristically dances down the hallway until she stops in front of a wooden door. She stands waiting for me, so I rush to catch up with her.]

Angela Lansbury: Marcus. What you need to do is cast off all your preconceived notions of your life, those around you, and especially yourself. You might get to know yourself a lot better if you just let go.

Gaines: I'm not following.

Angela Lansbury: Not yet, no. But you will. [She smiles widely, like the cheshire cat, or even the man who sold the world. She gestures with a small head nod towards the door.] Go inside. But let me warn you, some of these don't turn out to well. You may not see what you want, or maybe you will see what you want, but just won't know it's what you want at the time.

Gaines: I'm not sure I want to.

[She stares at me for a moment, measuring me up. Then without warning I feel her coarse hand shoving me through the closed door. Instead of it opening and me finding another ordinairy hotel room. I found myself falling down the deepest, darkest pit I've ever seen. All around me lurks darkness, within that darkness is more darkness. I feel alone, cold, emptiness striking out from every space in this room. I fall but no real wind rises up from underneath me. All around me, strange lights flash all around me. Every now and again, as the distance between me and the door grow, I see objects barely distinguishable pass by, sometimes its a person even.]

[My eyes are diverted by the first object I can plainly make out as a clock spinning in all directions. Out of the darkness above me Angela drops down so now she is falling at the same speed I am.]

Gaines: Angie... What the hell is going on?

Angela Lansbury: Relax, Marcus. From what I've seen you're the one who initiated our encounter anyway, so don't fret.

Gaines: Relax? We're falling here. What happens when we hit the ground? Be honest with me here, I can take it... am I dead? Am I dying? What the hell is going on.

Angela Lansbury: [Smiling deceptively.] While I can't tell you in the exact words what's going on; I can give you hints, it'd be less fun if I just out and out TOLD you, wouldn't it? How long have you been taking the pills for Marcus?

[I can feel my brow ripple with confusion.]

Gaines: Pills? I'm begging you to give me some answers here, Angie.

Angela Lansbury: Well, whether it's by your own free will or not, you've been taking the pills for some time now. Maybe it's taken you a while to get out of the haze you've been in. In answer of your question; No, you're not dying. Not even close. What set all this off, Marcus?

Gaines: What the hell are you talking about? Give me some f^cking answers, now god damnit.

Angela Lansbury: It isn't fun, is it, Marcus? Not remembering I mean. Forgetting where you've been for a day is commonplace for some people, a week isn't stretching it for certain medical conditions. But you can't recall anything clearly for a long time, can you, Marcus?

[Her eyes never leaving mine the whole time, a wry smile etched on her now warping features.]

Gaines: How did you know that? What the hell is all this?

Angela Lansbury: Amnesia would be such a good excuse wouldn't it? But you know as well as I do that you wouldn't be able to remember anythign at all. So what is it that's wrong with your memory, Marcus. Blocking things out? Could be, depends on what your subconscience classifies as traumatic enough to block out temporarily.

Gaines: Just get to the damn point. No. I can't remember much. In fact, the only things I can remember aside from the past few days is muddled in my mind. Days blend together to become something very unfamiliar to me. The only thing clear in my head is wrestling.

[Angela's smile turns from cocky to pleased.]

Angela Lansbury: And you wonder why that is, right?

[I nod sarcastically.]

Angela Lansbury: You don't know yourself as well as you think. You've stumbled upon a transformation within yourself that is changing so many things in your mind that it will most likely, depending on you be a good thing. Let it run it's course, you'll be much better off for it.

Gaines: Is that your sage-like advice? Leave it all alone? Thanks for this enlightening conversation. I can't leave it alone. Whenever I consciously think, I strain to remember anything. What am I if I only have bits and pieces of my memory actually intact? I want to remember things, Angela Lansbury, or whoever you are. I can't make it not having pieces fit together.

[She laughs, her voice echoing all around me.]

Angela Lansbury: You must be horrible at puzzles then. [Laughs wildly.] Marcus, this is getting you nowhere. You don't even know why you are where you are, so how can you understand anything if you don't even know that?

[Her words echo loudly despite their original lack of volume. I can only sit here and fly downward and think about this.]

Angela Lansbury: Tell me what you do remember.

[I look at her for a moment, trying to gauge her sincerity if there is any there.]

Gaines: I can remember every single match I've had in GWA up to and including last wednesday. I can remember everything I've done inside of that ring. I remember my last match against Reina... I remember vividly losing to her in what had to be my most grueling match. I remember leaving after that. Next thing I know I'm walking down my old neighbourhood and seeing lights on in my house. I remember seeing a video of some promotional work I did before leaving. Then heading out on the road with GWA.

[She just stares at me for a moment with a sidelong glance.]

Angela Lansbury: I'll tell you what I remember, Marcus. I remember visits with you since your childhood. I remember you and I going everywhere together. Oh sure I wasn't always looking like Angela Lansbury, but in one form or another, we've always been around one another.

Gaines: Who are you?

Angela Lansbury: I can't rightfully tell you that. We're old friends, Marcus. Trust me on that one. In fact I've been around in each of your worst times. I remember being there when you beat Julius Stryker with a ladder. I remember getting you to break his leg in said ladder. Sure, sometimes my influence is a little weaker as time factors in, but you haven't really been without me for a lengthy period of time.

[My confusion meter, if I had one would be breaking around now.]

Gaines: Wait a second. Are you saying you're a voice inside of my head? I'm crazier than I thought?

Angela Lansbury: If that helps you classify me, then sure. But, no, you're not crazier than you thought. You need the pills to get me inside your head, Marcus. I take you places you couldn't normally get to without me. I'll be around when you face those two pissheads Johnny Storm and Blaze. And you bet you're ass I'll be helping you brutalize them beyond repair.

Gaines: Wait a second. Are you telling me you're steroids? Some performance enhancing drug giving me next to super powers?

[She laughs again, her echo again resounding through this unfathomable pit until it comes at me from all sides, torturing my ears, and yet tickling my ear lobes, making the sensation somewhat pleasurable.]

Angela Lansbury: Marcus, you're too much. Find solace in knowing you really don't need so-called performance enhancing drugs. I can only really alter your perception. That's the edge I give you, Marcus. You can see things from a different perspective.

Gaines: Am I a drug addict or something?

[She smiles.]

Angela Lansbury: An addict fiends for their addiction. Considering you can't even recall taking anything, then no, you're not an addict.

Gaines: How is it I forget taking these pills you speak of? Seems to me I'd remember something like that.

Angela Lansbury: I can't explain that. Maybe, as opposed to thinking too much, you don't think enough. You're only half conscious when you're not inside that wrestling ring, hence why everytime you enter it, you get such an adrenaline rush. Thus, why you seeked it out all over again.

[She sees the disillusioned look on my face.]

Angela Lansbury: I don't have answers for you, Marcus. I can only show you the questions better so you can get the answers yourself. I can nudge you this way or that, but I can't tell you how to accept what I show you. What brought all these questions to the forefront, Marcus? What happened to make you question yourself so devoutly?

[I pause for a moment, trying to think about the question. A flurry of thoughts pass through my mind, as I try to come up with the answer to her question.]

Angela Lansbury: Something was brought up that brought all of this to the foreground, what was it, Marcus. I know you know the answer to this.

Gaines: I don't f^cking know, all right? Dammit. This is actually one time where I WOULD rather be thinking about my upcoming wrestling match, than discussing this.

[She frowns on me for a second.]

Angela Lansbury: Let it out, Marcus. It doesn't matter if you're incoherrent, most of these wrestlers you work with are anyhow. Tell me how it is you're going to break a hole right through this supposedly stable tag team of Johnny Storm and Johnny Blaze. Tell me how you plan to overcome them knowing that Chris Carpenter is going to offer you minimal assistance just like he did last time. Tell me how easily you'll rip through their little dream world leaving them pinned in the ring. Tell me how after this match, confidant in your abilities, you'll pursue Storm for a title shot and most likely shove his supposed multi-million dollar company down his throat like so many wads of toilet paper.

Tell me how illogical it is on Johnny Storm's part to somehow be able to pay at least five men cash sums upwards and including ten million dollars and yet be employed in a company making only slightly more than that yearly. Tell me why you figure he has a small penis because of that fact. Tell me why Johnny Storm has had it easy in the ring up until now because he hasn't had you around to try and contend with. Tell me why Johnny Storm can somehow live with himself in a place paying him most likely nothing and yet pay people money he can't possibly possess without having a single corporate earning. Tell me all about what you think of his little stable, and how he can't seem to get over just how great it is, when in reality you'll most likely be tearing it apart within a few weeks.

Or tell me about how easily you handled Johnny Blaze last week, and how easily you'll toss him aside this week. Tell me about how his lack of intelligence is stunting his ability to focus on his true calling as lackey. Why don't you tell me how you'll first take his legs out from under him, then you'll take his ego out from under him leaving him a limping wreck jabbering on about how he had his one great match with Marcus Gaines and blew it like so many MOV corporate party blowjobs he's given out in the past.

Clichés aside, Marcus it won't change the fact that you have a serious problem with your memory here, my friend. And until you realize that I just said all of that, leaving no room for you to repeat it, you will be left right back where you started, moping over not being able to remember everything about your life. I'm sorry I have to be harsh here, Marcus, but really; You're annoying me with this self-pittying bullshit. Some things take longer than five minutes to take effect. Trust in the fact that you'll eventually know all you want to, and probably more.

[From the very moment she began I could only float in wait, nodding my head to all her points, agreeing that I most likely would have rambled on about each of her well-made points.]

Gaines: Or I could simply say that I was going to tear 'em all down, and send 'em to hell letting god, or satan sort them out, whichever got around to it first. To be honest. I don't see either of those two pissants posing a problem in the ring. They both know that. The only problem I see is getting out of the ring without having Storm sic his lackeys on me simply because I showed him the truth about his "talent" and it wasn't to his liking.

I'm appreciative of the few answers you've pieced together for me. But I'm not really liking the fact that we've been supposedly falling now for at least half an hour with no real end in sight. And other than the fact that we seem to be gliding down slowly now, I don't see one on the horizon for quite a ways either.

[She places a finger over her mouth and smiles mysteriously.]

Angela Lansbury: Before we land here, think of one thing for me... This one is an important piece to your puzzle. Ready?

Gaines: Shoot...

[She turns around, hiding her face from me for a moment. Then abruptly turns toward me revealing a face all too familiar to me, yet I can't place it.]

Gaines: D... D... Debra?

[She smiles, blowing lightly in my face causing my eyes to blink in rapid succesion. When the blowing ceases, I find myself back in my room, with many more questions than I had started with... but a few more answers now.]

To Be Continued....