Post by Mr. Showtime on Jul 5, 2016 21:13:36 GMT -5
Pure Class Wrestling President, “Mr. Showtime” Michael Wryght had taken to wandering the halls. He’d found himself constantly cooped up in that office of his and it was time to stretch his legs. A man could develop cabin fever with the amount of hours he was pulling between the PCW Presidency and his campaign. An average man would crack; Showtime was half expecting it at any moment.
The air conditioner was turned off some time after six pm, and the South Carolinian heat was oppressive. Showtime had already ditched his suit jacket and was in the process of rolling up his sleeves when he realized that he was no longer alone. It was a situation that he’d begun to get accustomed to. He was never comfortable when he was alone, because chances were that it would be short lived.
He half expected that there would be some smoke filling the halls, but he was mistaken. It seemed that someone relatively new had arrived. He needed to make sure it wasn’t just paranoia so he asked, “Are you planning on coming out?”
“Honestly, I’m not interested in being seen,” replied the man.
“It’s just you and me in here, we’re all locked up for the night.”
“Never the less I’m happy to hide in the shadows. Do you recognize my voice?”
“I do.”
“Who am I?”
“You’re John Steward.”
“Do you remember what I said was in the works?”
“Yeah, you were planning on moderating the presidential debates. Is that a reality?”
“I cannot say yet, but I can promise that I will moderate the first.”
“So, the Black Hand was able to get you to moderate my debate with…”
John cut in, “Don’t say their name. It isn’t safe for us to talk, and it is even less safe to talk about things that should be left a secret. I just wanted to warn you that I am going to be completely impartial during this debate.”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
“Seriously Michael. I cannot seem that I am in favor with you at all so it doesn’t jeopardize the debates to come. This is both of our auditions. If we nail this first debate we will be included in all others.”
“You know that the only reason they agreed to debate me is because they think I am a joke.”
“First mistake in war is under estimating your opponents,” replied John, with what sounded like a sly smile on his face. “Will you be ready?”
“Ever since I found out all I have been doing is prep work. I may not win, but I will not be made a fool.”
“That is all we could ask for; just be taken seriously and we’ll count that as a win.”
“I do have one question for you,” Showtime said with a long pause. There was no response though. John Stewart had already left the area and was probably long gone. Showtime would have to wait on that response until a later date.
He hadn’t realized it but he had somehow walked the whole building and wound up back in front of his office. He cringed when he opened the door, but if he ever wanted to get any sleep tonight he’d have to get back to the grindstone.
He stepped inside his office and shut the curtains. He wanted no distractions and wanted to make sure he was completely focused. He pulled up his debate notes and started to review a bit more and come up with the retorts that he would need. Being uneducated would ruin everything he had worked for. The lights above him began to flicker and he scowled at them. “If it isn’t one thing, it’s another.”
He got back to his notes and found a particular section that he needed to brush up on. It wasn’t everyday that he would be given a chance as this was. Though again the lights actually went out for a moment distracting him. Enough was enough, so he reached for his phone to contact maintenance. His conversation with Mr. Stewart echoed in his mind, reminding him that the staff had left for the evening. He checked his wristwatch for good measure.
He placed the receiver back on the dock, but before he could even look away the phone rang. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked over the phone. He knew that answering it would only further distract him, but letting it ring was never truly an option.
“Yeah,” he answered, with a tone of annoyance. It only got worse when no one answered back. He thought that maybe he may have scared the caller away and tried again, “Hello?”
There was no one there except a waste of time; something that he no longer had the luxury to waste. He slammed the receiver down and he turned back to his screen. All of this was just leading to a longer night and contrary to belief he did actually need some sleep. That was until the buildings power went out completely.
Showtime let out a sigh and contemplated his next move. The back up lights in the hall were out as well, so he knew this was bigger than some over head lights. He peeked through his curtains, but couldn’t find another building affected as this one was. As habit would seem, he grabbed his phone and checked for ancillary messages; texts, emails, etcetera. He didn’t like it, but the only option he had was to call it a night. Maybe a greater power was at work here.
"Not yet!" said a harsh voice from within the darkness. He half expected the smoking man’s return, but again there was no smoke. He didn’t want anyone else sneaking up on him, but before he could state that the voice continued, "We need to talk."
"Great someone else in the shadows needs something. When did this become a trend?"
"You've always been so god-damned dramatic!" growled the man in the darkness, already clearly agitated. "Who said I needed anything?”
“You wouldn’t be lurking around my office at this time of night if you didn’t. Maybe you should man up and show your face,” Showtime was clearly annoyed, but it wasn’t something that he wanted to declare. He was generally cool under pressure and this would be no different.
“You already know who I am, and you don’t need the lights to confirm anything. It’s better if we keep our dealings in the dark anyway.”
“Whatever makes you feel more comfortable Justin, but this seems to be a trend for me nowadays,” he almost knew immediately that Justin “Stormm” Michaels was the man hiding in the darkness, and Showtime was willing to play the game as long as Justin was. “What do you want?”
“I wanted to know why I got forced back into PCW when I wasn’t ready? Who told you I was ready to be booked? And why the hell did you think it was a good idea to put me against that lunatic and his psychotic following?”
This was tiresome; another person blaming Showtime for his shortcomings. At some point someone will take accountability for his or her actions. It was pretty simple as Showtime tried to remain calm as he explained. “You’ll need to take that up with your doctor Justin. We were sent your clearance and it is standard practice to book workers after the doctor’s permission is granted. Nothing outside of normal protocol. As for you match back, it was you that I recall saying that when you came back you wanted a shot at the International Title. Granted it was something promised to you by former management, but I saw to getting you that shot. Nothing here seemed shocking to me.”
“I should have known you’d be one to come up with excuses. My doctor doesn’t speak for me when it comes to whether I want to wrestle or not, but I could hardly fight it after you opened your big mouth and announced my return on national television. I also never specifically said I wanted a shot at the title, I said that I wanted a shot at you, and taking the title from you was just going to be a bonus.”
“There are no excuses here, Justin. Only facts.”
“You know what, Mikey, I liked you a lot better before you cut your hair, grew out that stupid facial hair, and decided to run for President.”
Showtime could only scoff and shake his head before he said, “Don’t lie to me, you’ve never been all that fond of me, nor I you. The truth of the matter is that the only time in our history that we ever really got along was when it benefitted the greater good. During that year I would have done just about anything to reach our final goal.”
“You’re right, you’ve always been a piece of shit in my mind, but that doesn’t change the fact that you were a better piece of a shit a year ago than you are now. Can’t polish a turd though. And let’s not talk about that time in our lives, I’d just assume forget about it. The only thing that matters right now is getting along enough in a few nights to beat these women you booked us against, why, I’m foggy on those details.”
“I have the power to book, but I’m not in charge of the bookings. When this match came across my desk it was a little too late to change it; and I won’t lie, I considered switching your name with Kelli’s on more than one occasion,” Showtime lied, even after saying I won’t lie. He knew that it wasn’t in the cards to swap Justin with Kelli. You can’t split up a team because one party was unhappy with their situation. He never wanted anyone to accuse him of abusing his power.
“The suits need to pull their heads out of their asses and figure this shit out, is what it sounds like you are saying. I was kind of hoping for a better situation than that when I came back, but I guess that’s not the case. I also think you made a mistake by not switching names. Beating you and Kelli would have done well to make up for the fact that I let Willard, I mean Seromine, pin me two weeks ago.
“If the suits on the board had any sense then I wouldn’t be in the role I was forced to usurp. This is never something I wanted, but the way they were letting things go Pure Class Wrestling would probably be dead now. I wasn’t going to let that happen. This may be all self-serving for you, but I am doing this for the people. I never asked for any of this, but I’ll step up and take the responsibility when it is needed; something maybe you should take my lead on rather than blaming me for your loses.”
“I never blamed anyone, in fact, I just told you the loss was my decision. I didn’t need your over-anxious decision to put me in a number one contenders match my first show back to get to what I’m after. I’ll do that on my own. But, you know Mikey, sometimes you have to stop thinking about other people, and being a lemming to the masses, and just do shit for yourself. You are naive if you don’t think I’ve never been in your shoes, I’ve worn through them, and decided to go my own way this time.”
“What do you know of my shoes? You can’t imagine the pressure of running for the President of the Uni…” Showtime is stopped mid-sentence as the lights illuminate and he is left alone again. Leave it to fucking Stormm to come in here and ruin all of the good mojo Showtime had going for himself. He didn’t like the fact that on top of all of the other responsibilities that he had now he needed to watch his back for Michaels. Murdoc was enough after the ridiculous show he put on last week with Fierce. While Kelli and Brenda were not a pair to be trifled with. It all seemed that the world was building against the presidential hopeful.
Showtime did like it when the odds were stacked against him, but at what point does the scale tip over?
The air conditioner was turned off some time after six pm, and the South Carolinian heat was oppressive. Showtime had already ditched his suit jacket and was in the process of rolling up his sleeves when he realized that he was no longer alone. It was a situation that he’d begun to get accustomed to. He was never comfortable when he was alone, because chances were that it would be short lived.
He half expected that there would be some smoke filling the halls, but he was mistaken. It seemed that someone relatively new had arrived. He needed to make sure it wasn’t just paranoia so he asked, “Are you planning on coming out?”
“Honestly, I’m not interested in being seen,” replied the man.
“It’s just you and me in here, we’re all locked up for the night.”
“Never the less I’m happy to hide in the shadows. Do you recognize my voice?”
“I do.”
“Who am I?”
“You’re John Steward.”
“Do you remember what I said was in the works?”
“Yeah, you were planning on moderating the presidential debates. Is that a reality?”
“I cannot say yet, but I can promise that I will moderate the first.”
“So, the Black Hand was able to get you to moderate my debate with…”
John cut in, “Don’t say their name. It isn’t safe for us to talk, and it is even less safe to talk about things that should be left a secret. I just wanted to warn you that I am going to be completely impartial during this debate.”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
“Seriously Michael. I cannot seem that I am in favor with you at all so it doesn’t jeopardize the debates to come. This is both of our auditions. If we nail this first debate we will be included in all others.”
“You know that the only reason they agreed to debate me is because they think I am a joke.”
“First mistake in war is under estimating your opponents,” replied John, with what sounded like a sly smile on his face. “Will you be ready?”
“Ever since I found out all I have been doing is prep work. I may not win, but I will not be made a fool.”
“That is all we could ask for; just be taken seriously and we’ll count that as a win.”
“I do have one question for you,” Showtime said with a long pause. There was no response though. John Stewart had already left the area and was probably long gone. Showtime would have to wait on that response until a later date.
He hadn’t realized it but he had somehow walked the whole building and wound up back in front of his office. He cringed when he opened the door, but if he ever wanted to get any sleep tonight he’d have to get back to the grindstone.
He stepped inside his office and shut the curtains. He wanted no distractions and wanted to make sure he was completely focused. He pulled up his debate notes and started to review a bit more and come up with the retorts that he would need. Being uneducated would ruin everything he had worked for. The lights above him began to flicker and he scowled at them. “If it isn’t one thing, it’s another.”
He got back to his notes and found a particular section that he needed to brush up on. It wasn’t everyday that he would be given a chance as this was. Though again the lights actually went out for a moment distracting him. Enough was enough, so he reached for his phone to contact maintenance. His conversation with Mr. Stewart echoed in his mind, reminding him that the staff had left for the evening. He checked his wristwatch for good measure.
He placed the receiver back on the dock, but before he could even look away the phone rang. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked over the phone. He knew that answering it would only further distract him, but letting it ring was never truly an option.
“Yeah,” he answered, with a tone of annoyance. It only got worse when no one answered back. He thought that maybe he may have scared the caller away and tried again, “Hello?”
There was no one there except a waste of time; something that he no longer had the luxury to waste. He slammed the receiver down and he turned back to his screen. All of this was just leading to a longer night and contrary to belief he did actually need some sleep. That was until the buildings power went out completely.
Showtime let out a sigh and contemplated his next move. The back up lights in the hall were out as well, so he knew this was bigger than some over head lights. He peeked through his curtains, but couldn’t find another building affected as this one was. As habit would seem, he grabbed his phone and checked for ancillary messages; texts, emails, etcetera. He didn’t like it, but the only option he had was to call it a night. Maybe a greater power was at work here.
"Not yet!" said a harsh voice from within the darkness. He half expected the smoking man’s return, but again there was no smoke. He didn’t want anyone else sneaking up on him, but before he could state that the voice continued, "We need to talk."
"Great someone else in the shadows needs something. When did this become a trend?"
"You've always been so god-damned dramatic!" growled the man in the darkness, already clearly agitated. "Who said I needed anything?”
“You wouldn’t be lurking around my office at this time of night if you didn’t. Maybe you should man up and show your face,” Showtime was clearly annoyed, but it wasn’t something that he wanted to declare. He was generally cool under pressure and this would be no different.
“You already know who I am, and you don’t need the lights to confirm anything. It’s better if we keep our dealings in the dark anyway.”
“Whatever makes you feel more comfortable Justin, but this seems to be a trend for me nowadays,” he almost knew immediately that Justin “Stormm” Michaels was the man hiding in the darkness, and Showtime was willing to play the game as long as Justin was. “What do you want?”
“I wanted to know why I got forced back into PCW when I wasn’t ready? Who told you I was ready to be booked? And why the hell did you think it was a good idea to put me against that lunatic and his psychotic following?”
This was tiresome; another person blaming Showtime for his shortcomings. At some point someone will take accountability for his or her actions. It was pretty simple as Showtime tried to remain calm as he explained. “You’ll need to take that up with your doctor Justin. We were sent your clearance and it is standard practice to book workers after the doctor’s permission is granted. Nothing outside of normal protocol. As for you match back, it was you that I recall saying that when you came back you wanted a shot at the International Title. Granted it was something promised to you by former management, but I saw to getting you that shot. Nothing here seemed shocking to me.”
“I should have known you’d be one to come up with excuses. My doctor doesn’t speak for me when it comes to whether I want to wrestle or not, but I could hardly fight it after you opened your big mouth and announced my return on national television. I also never specifically said I wanted a shot at the title, I said that I wanted a shot at you, and taking the title from you was just going to be a bonus.”
“There are no excuses here, Justin. Only facts.”
“You know what, Mikey, I liked you a lot better before you cut your hair, grew out that stupid facial hair, and decided to run for President.”
Showtime could only scoff and shake his head before he said, “Don’t lie to me, you’ve never been all that fond of me, nor I you. The truth of the matter is that the only time in our history that we ever really got along was when it benefitted the greater good. During that year I would have done just about anything to reach our final goal.”
“You’re right, you’ve always been a piece of shit in my mind, but that doesn’t change the fact that you were a better piece of a shit a year ago than you are now. Can’t polish a turd though. And let’s not talk about that time in our lives, I’d just assume forget about it. The only thing that matters right now is getting along enough in a few nights to beat these women you booked us against, why, I’m foggy on those details.”
“I have the power to book, but I’m not in charge of the bookings. When this match came across my desk it was a little too late to change it; and I won’t lie, I considered switching your name with Kelli’s on more than one occasion,” Showtime lied, even after saying I won’t lie. He knew that it wasn’t in the cards to swap Justin with Kelli. You can’t split up a team because one party was unhappy with their situation. He never wanted anyone to accuse him of abusing his power.
“The suits need to pull their heads out of their asses and figure this shit out, is what it sounds like you are saying. I was kind of hoping for a better situation than that when I came back, but I guess that’s not the case. I also think you made a mistake by not switching names. Beating you and Kelli would have done well to make up for the fact that I let Willard, I mean Seromine, pin me two weeks ago.
“If the suits on the board had any sense then I wouldn’t be in the role I was forced to usurp. This is never something I wanted, but the way they were letting things go Pure Class Wrestling would probably be dead now. I wasn’t going to let that happen. This may be all self-serving for you, but I am doing this for the people. I never asked for any of this, but I’ll step up and take the responsibility when it is needed; something maybe you should take my lead on rather than blaming me for your loses.”
“I never blamed anyone, in fact, I just told you the loss was my decision. I didn’t need your over-anxious decision to put me in a number one contenders match my first show back to get to what I’m after. I’ll do that on my own. But, you know Mikey, sometimes you have to stop thinking about other people, and being a lemming to the masses, and just do shit for yourself. You are naive if you don’t think I’ve never been in your shoes, I’ve worn through them, and decided to go my own way this time.”
“What do you know of my shoes? You can’t imagine the pressure of running for the President of the Uni…” Showtime is stopped mid-sentence as the lights illuminate and he is left alone again. Leave it to fucking Stormm to come in here and ruin all of the good mojo Showtime had going for himself. He didn’t like the fact that on top of all of the other responsibilities that he had now he needed to watch his back for Michaels. Murdoc was enough after the ridiculous show he put on last week with Fierce. While Kelli and Brenda were not a pair to be trifled with. It all seemed that the world was building against the presidential hopeful.
Showtime did like it when the odds were stacked against him, but at what point does the scale tip over?
