Post by Deleted on Aug 6, 2017 21:40:47 GMT -5
“Do I need to remind you,” the State commissioner began, “that you're at risk of losing your license here in California, Mr. Coyne?”
“That's not my…” Linc winced. “Dont call me that. It's Linc. Please.”
The commissioner sighed.
“Linc, please tell us why you are no longer under investigation for assault by the state of Nevada.”
--
As soon as I stepped across the state line last week, I was taken into custody. It's almost like they had posted troopers at every access point into Nevada specifically looking for my plates or something.
I was cuffed, thrown in the back of the cruiser and taken to a Las Vegas county jail. They questioned me, kinda like you guys are now.
Except this went on for eight hours.
They tried to tell me the guy seen leaving the bus depot parking lot in the security footage was, uh, well, me. Just because the guy in the video was black. You believe that?
--
The commissioner looked Linc up and down and pursed her lips.
--
I spent the night in the bucket because I didn't confess to anything - not that I had anything to fess up to. Next morning they woke me up and started in on me again. You know how many lawyers I got?
Six hours of this shit.
--
The thought of this seemed to enrage Linc suddenly.
“Fourteen goddamn hours of interrogation and now I have to justify myself to y'all too. This is fucked! I'm clearly not in the pen, I'm obviously innocent, you obviously need to give me my license back so I can get the fuck out of here!”
“Linc, you need to calm down right now!”
Linc dropped his head, took deep breaths in and tried to bring his heartrate down.
“I… listen, I need to get to the Asylum for this match. I'm a contender - I'm a fucking contender for once and I'm up against the Champion in some tag team bullshit. I need to get there and I need to meet him in that ring. I don't give a fuck about his partner. I've beat her before and I'll do it again. Shit, I'm so good that I'm skipping right over trying to win the only title she's held. In fact, I think I might hang her again just to get her out of the way.
“The Champ is the only one I'm worried about. I need to show the Champ that his speed advantage, his high goddamn flying advantage mean nothing to me. I need to show the so-called Ultraviolent Champion that he's an idiot out there, he's going to make mistakes and I'm going to capitalize on them, because that's exactly what's going to happen when I go one-on-one with him for his belt.”
The Commissioner rolled her eyes.
“Listen, we hear stories like this from all over California. You need this job, you need to prove yourself to this person or that person, you need to be champion so you can support your family. We hear these stories from people who have lost their licenses and are not getting them back. Tell us why you should get yours.”
Linc slammed his fist on the tabletop, but continued.
--
I hadn't seen my… the Reverend in… well, he came bursting through the door of that interrogation room. Yelling, screaming at the top of his lungs at the cops and their bullshit charges. It was actually…
Anyway, he said there was no way it could be me in that video because he was with me on June eleventh.
I had an alibi.
They had to let me go.
--
“I have nothing on my record in the state of Nevada. You’ve known that the whole time. It says so in that file folder in front of you. I don't know why kind of grudge you have against me or So-Cal, but can we end this dog and pony show?”
--
She reinstated my wrestling license like, an hour later.
I left a lot of shit out of my story there. The Reverend - my dad - committed perjury or some shit, he lied to the cops about my alibi. I hadn't seen him in almost a year, since I went berserk on set.
After we left the station I tried to thank him but he didn't want to hear it from me. He got in his car, rolled down the window halfway and told him what he wanted in exchange for that…
Linc Coyne sat at a table with a Swiss Army knife. Every piece of ID he owned - his driver's license, his passport, his Screen Actor's insurance, his credit cards, his wrestling license - he was at work scratching his last name off all of them...