Post by Mr. Showtime on Aug 22, 2016 21:38:11 GMT -5
Solitary confinement. House arrest. Protection. Your own good.
Whatever everyone was calling it “Mr. Showtime” Michael Wryght called it torture. Apparently all parties involve thought that the destruction of Showtime’s limousine after his debate with Donald Trump was more serious than Showtime did. Minus his match at Return to Glory, Showtime has been under lockdown since. He wasn’t even allowed in his own backyard for fear of something unfortunate happening.
He was furious over the lack of control that he had these days. He didn’t know why his opinion didn’t matter on the subject of his own safety. He knew that he was perfectly capable of protecting himself, and the attempt on his life was nothing more than a farce. Some media ploy the Black Hand cooked up to give Showtime more press coverage. An over the top PR stunt is all. If someone was out to get him then they would have at least come close. No one smart enough to get past his security would be dumb enough to miss by that much. It just didn’t compute.
As unconcerned he was about his safety the opposite could be said about his image. He was distraught about how he went over during Return to Glory. He did the exact opposite of what he said he was going to do. There was plenty of blame to go around. Murdoc, Fierce, Showtime’s ego; the list went on and on. But most of the blame landed squarely on the shoulders of Shane Dodge. If that nosey son of a bitch didn’t call Showtime out in front of everyone that night he would’ve been content wallowing in his own self-pity. He would have been beside himself if Murdoc still choked out Fierce, but it would have been Dan’s fault not Showtime’s.
Left in his house alone, Showtime could only dwell on his actions. They looked as if he just flip flopped on an issue that he whole heartedly decided on. Told the world that he wouldn’t abuse his power, but when push came to shove he couldn’t stop himself. Showtime was seething after Dodge left the presidential office. Wryght couldn’t stop thinking about his chance to put Murdoc down. It wasn’t the title shot that drove Showtime, the exact opposite. He could let Murdoc get his hands on it, and together with Fierce Showtime knew that they could stop him. Which technically they did. Short lived as it may have been.
Now he’d have no one standing him his way. The match that should have been at Return to Glory was merely moved to Trauma. There could only be one outcome. Good would triumph over evil. Showtime’s image may be tarnished, but he would fix it. Somehow they would forgive him for crossing that line into power corruption. In fact he could still hear their cheers as he declared himself as part of the match. All he would need to do is take down that monster and the people would forgive. The greater good always came first.
There it was. Smoke filled the air in Showtime’s study. Thick dank plumes of tobacco stung his nostrils as his head swiveled for its source. It had been over a month since the cigarette smoking man had snuck up on Showtime, and he knew why.
“It seems you were able to step away from plotting my faux assassination long enough to pay me a visit,” sneered Showtime. He knew that they were behind it, and they sent their mouthpiece here to gloat over their genius.
“You have it all wrong,” replied that familiar harsh voice.
“Oh do I?” asked Showtime in a taunting manner.
“We would never put you in harm’s way like that.”
“Now I know you are lying,” he spat back at the man. Though the thought had just dawned on him. In the slightest chance that the attempt on his life was real, it didn’t mean the culprits couldn’t be the same. It sent a cold terror down his spine as he narrowed his eyes at his uninvited guest. The paranoia and fear tasted bitter in his mouth as he said, “Unless you’ve come here to finish the job.”
It was startling when the man burst into a hoarse laughter that only ceased due to him launching into a coughing fit. Showtime didn’t know whether to be angry or fearful, but he sure as hell would be on his guard. There was a significant chance that anything that came out of this man’s mouth next would be a bold faced lie. Showtime needed to be ready.
“Seriously, Mr. Wryght, you sure do have some kind of imagination. Instead of looking at the facts and what everyone around you are saying you cook up some sort of conspiracy.”
“Yeah you’re right,” Showtime replied, his voice laden with sarcasm. “It’s just crazy to think that the secret society that is pushing me towards the presidency of the United States in a grand scheme to reshape the world in their own image just might decide I am no longer an asset and eliminate me. What the hell was I thinking? There is no chance that maybe Hilary or even Trump might be swayed into joining powerful forces in order to ensure a better shot at running this country and eventually the world. It was probably just some kid that learned too much in his chemistry class and thought it might be fun to blow up a presidential candidate. That make much more sense.”
“I reluctantly see your point,” replied the man with the right side of his lip curling as he stuck a fresh cigarette in his mouth.
“Do you? This is my life that you are all fucking with here. I’m now a fucking prisoner in my own house.”
“Mr. Wryght, please calm down.”
“No you calm down!” Showtime exclaimed, as he realized that it didn’t make much sense as a shouted retort. Though it oddly made him feel a little better.
“We have some leads in this case and we will exhaust all resources until we know you are fully safe again.”
“Don’t say it was Murdoc.”
“I’d be lying if we didn’t count him as a suspect, but there isn’t anything that points directly towards him. Though I personally promise you that nothing will happen to you. We’ve increased your security detail and even added someone that you’ve used in the past.”
“Johnathan Lepht?” asked Showtime, already knowing the answer.
“Yes, we’ve assigned him to your wife, as he has acted as protection for her in the past. We wouldn’t want anyone making her a liability.”
“No, we wouldn’t want her safety to get in the way of my political campaign.”
“It’s not like that, and our people are everywhere. It won’t be long before this culprit is apprehended. Trust me.”
“Trust you,” replied Showtime, as it was his turn to laugh. “I still think that it was the Black Hand that was behind this, regardless of what propaganda you are spewing at me. Honestly, there’s a very good chance that you wouldn’t even know. The Black Hand has proven time and again how cloak and dagger they can be. It’s a pity that you can’t see that. I’m still playing along, for now, as I do want to be the one that initiates the change in the world. Help make it a better place and all that. Though I grow weary of these games. Either catch the person responsible or own up to it. It make no difference to me, unless I end up at the morgue.”
“We need you to be careful though. As I said it could be anyone, including members of Pure Class Wrestling and placing yourself in matches that anything can happen is a fool’s errand.”
“I’m not concerned with Murdoc, not even if he is the one that is causing all of this grief. I’m more than happy to take care of him myself. I will stop him, even if it does send me to that morgue we’re trying to avoid, but I’ll be damned if I don’t bring him with me.”
