Post by newgm on Oct 28, 2010 18:00:53 GMT -5
The scene opens in the office of General Manager, Smarky Smark. He sits in his cushy office chair, staring fixatedly at a television screen opposite. Behind him is Smarky's secretary, Erin Rajkowski, who looks at her boss with a concerned expression. The concern is understandable, seeing as Smarky is watching a clip of a promo from earlier on near the beginning of Triumph. The clip shows GHW's resident rebel, Kahlan Clarkson, going on one of her vintage rants. Something seems to have struck a nerve with the GM however, as he keeps pushing the rewind button on his remote.
Smarky runs over the footage once more, wanting to make sure that he is hearing this foul mouthed rant correctly. After a few more replays, the Shaman of Sci-Fi slams the remote to the ground. Grinding his teeth, he looks over to Erin, and says “Get me a Heineken.” to which she obliges, leaving the office and shutting the door on the way out. With that issue out of the way, he faces the camera to address the GHW crowd, but mainly Miss Clarkson.
“What you just saw there, is the basic ability to follow orders. You see, Erin Rajkowski is the ONLY woman in this company with the ability to rub two brain cells together. She knows what her job is, and she does it. She does it because she knows that is she fails to comply, she will be fired on the spot. If I tell her to get me a drink, she would get me a drink. If I told her to send some faxes, she will send some faxes. Heck, I could tell her to stand in the middle of the ring and play with herself, and she'd know that it'd make sense for her to obey.”
Smarky chuckles at that sentiment, before returning to his serious face and speaking once more.
“But some people just don't grasp the concept of authority. To make this as simple as can be- I run this show, therefore you do as I say. You accept the hand you are dealt and you run with it. True superstars can do this. True superstars know what is needed to succeed, whatever the situation. But then there are the small minority that seem to think that just because things don't go their way, they can moan and bitch and gripe and BLABBITY BLABBITY BLAH!”
“Kahlan, I don't know why you don't like me. Maybe it's because I adhered to the rule of the Golden Ticket, and granted Alex Night his title match. If you didn't go gallivanting off on your Hawkeye trail, we would never have had this problem. You seem to hate me because I gave a number one contendership match to the man who WON the NeXuS Deathmatch, and is the only man to do so and still wrestle? You detest the fact that a two-time GHW New Age Champion, a former GHW World Champion, and a god-damn Glory and Honor LEGEND got a chance before someone like you- a snot nosed punk who barely shows up to events, and lets her comrades do all the work! Well may the Lord smite me down in to the depths of Hell! You seem to blame me, ME of all people, for the fact that you couldn't beat a washed up hack! You know that someone is doing a bad job when they blame the bad job on others, and try to make as much noise as possible until people see things their way. Well let me tell you something. No one here will ever see your way. No one is going to stand idly by and listen to what you have to say, because your words mean nothing. Zilch. Zero.”
To emphasise the point, Smarky curls his thumb and forefinger together to form an “O”, before continuing.
“Let what happens over the next few weeks be a lesson to you all. I am your new boss. I call the shots. And all your base are belong to me.”
Smarky picks up the remote he dropped earlier, and fondles it; flipping the plastic device around in his hand.
“Oh, and Kahlan, you talk about your Sesame Street a lot don't you? Well hear this...
Big Bird says this war has only just begun.”
On that note, Erin returns with the bottle of Heineken that Smarky asked for. Nodding in gratitude, Smarky takes the drink, before cracking the top off on the edge of his desk and gulping down the alcoholic beverage.
EOT
“You think this is funny, huh?”
She moves a little to try and re-position herself on the chair but that brings about a wince and then a groan as she clutches at her ribs.
“One day I'm the world tag champion, one-half of the most dominating dual alliance in GHW, and then some pathetic scum wiggles their way to take control of the business, and I end up not only screwed out of my title when I was unfairly separated from my partner, but I get double crossed in a match with the most shocking judging by total biased officials. What has this place turned into? A freaking circus? The officials fail to remain independent and people get screwed before they walk into their matches, booking suddenly sucks so bad that the likes of Delta brothers hit main events, and Ryan Hughes is put into unearned number one contender's match for the New Age title against people he can't possibly lose to. Seriously? And you think it's funny?...
Well of coarse you do! This whole Smarky crap looks like a failed episode of Sesame Street! But that doesn't matter. Because I ain't going to let this stand as it is. First though... hey you Hawkeye. You were given the win by our Sesame resident new, let me assure you temporary, management but don't, for one second think that this is over. In fact you better watch your back at all times. Grow a pair of eyes on the back of that thick skull of yours, even. 'Cause I'm not finished with you. And let me promise you this, I'm coming after you and one way or another I'm going to delete you permanently from the memory of not just this business, but the entire industry. Oh by the way... fuck that SCW crap.”
Suddenly, the angry girl on the chair falls victim to a spasm of dry coughs, forcing her to double over.
“Oh fuck... let me cut this short. If you were thinking that Kahlan was going to disappear after that stupid set up PPV of yours, then you were wrong. I'm going to stay, and stay as long as I have to until I, with these hands, get to bury the last of this Huge Spunk abnormality!”
Another round of coughing befalls Kahlan, and this time it takes longer for her to regain her breath. When she speaks again, her voice has lost it's smoothness and instead it rasps.
“And one more thing... If you don't like me... Fuck you.”
She moves a little to try and re-position herself on the chair but that brings about a wince and then a groan as she clutches at her ribs.
“One day I'm the world tag champion, one-half of the most dominating dual alliance in GHW, and then some pathetic scum wiggles their way to take control of the business, and I end up not only screwed out of my title when I was unfairly separated from my partner, but I get double crossed in a match with the most shocking judging by total biased officials. What has this place turned into? A freaking circus? The officials fail to remain independent and people get screwed before they walk into their matches, booking suddenly sucks so bad that the likes of Delta brothers hit main events, and Ryan Hughes is put into unearned number one contender's match for the New Age title against people he can't possibly lose to. Seriously? And you think it's funny?...
Well of coarse you do! This whole Smarky crap looks like a failed episode of Sesame Street! But that doesn't matter. Because I ain't going to let this stand as it is. First though... hey you Hawkeye. You were given the win by our Sesame resident new, let me assure you temporary, management but don't, for one second think that this is over. In fact you better watch your back at all times. Grow a pair of eyes on the back of that thick skull of yours, even. 'Cause I'm not finished with you. And let me promise you this, I'm coming after you and one way or another I'm going to delete you permanently from the memory of not just this business, but the entire industry. Oh by the way... fuck that SCW crap.”
Suddenly, the angry girl on the chair falls victim to a spasm of dry coughs, forcing her to double over.
“Oh fuck... let me cut this short. If you were thinking that Kahlan was going to disappear after that stupid set up PPV of yours, then you were wrong. I'm going to stay, and stay as long as I have to until I, with these hands, get to bury the last of this Huge Spunk abnormality!”
Another round of coughing befalls Kahlan, and this time it takes longer for her to regain her breath. When she speaks again, her voice has lost it's smoothness and instead it rasps.
“And one more thing... If you don't like me... Fuck you.”
Smarky runs over the footage once more, wanting to make sure that he is hearing this foul mouthed rant correctly. After a few more replays, the Shaman of Sci-Fi slams the remote to the ground. Grinding his teeth, he looks over to Erin, and says “Get me a Heineken.” to which she obliges, leaving the office and shutting the door on the way out. With that issue out of the way, he faces the camera to address the GHW crowd, but mainly Miss Clarkson.
“What you just saw there, is the basic ability to follow orders. You see, Erin Rajkowski is the ONLY woman in this company with the ability to rub two brain cells together. She knows what her job is, and she does it. She does it because she knows that is she fails to comply, she will be fired on the spot. If I tell her to get me a drink, she would get me a drink. If I told her to send some faxes, she will send some faxes. Heck, I could tell her to stand in the middle of the ring and play with herself, and she'd know that it'd make sense for her to obey.”
Smarky chuckles at that sentiment, before returning to his serious face and speaking once more.
“But some people just don't grasp the concept of authority. To make this as simple as can be- I run this show, therefore you do as I say. You accept the hand you are dealt and you run with it. True superstars can do this. True superstars know what is needed to succeed, whatever the situation. But then there are the small minority that seem to think that just because things don't go their way, they can moan and bitch and gripe and BLABBITY BLABBITY BLAH!”
“Kahlan, I don't know why you don't like me. Maybe it's because I adhered to the rule of the Golden Ticket, and granted Alex Night his title match. If you didn't go gallivanting off on your Hawkeye trail, we would never have had this problem. You seem to hate me because I gave a number one contendership match to the man who WON the NeXuS Deathmatch, and is the only man to do so and still wrestle? You detest the fact that a two-time GHW New Age Champion, a former GHW World Champion, and a god-damn Glory and Honor LEGEND got a chance before someone like you- a snot nosed punk who barely shows up to events, and lets her comrades do all the work! Well may the Lord smite me down in to the depths of Hell! You seem to blame me, ME of all people, for the fact that you couldn't beat a washed up hack! You know that someone is doing a bad job when they blame the bad job on others, and try to make as much noise as possible until people see things their way. Well let me tell you something. No one here will ever see your way. No one is going to stand idly by and listen to what you have to say, because your words mean nothing. Zilch. Zero.”
To emphasise the point, Smarky curls his thumb and forefinger together to form an “O”, before continuing.
“Let what happens over the next few weeks be a lesson to you all. I am your new boss. I call the shots. And all your base are belong to me.”
Smarky picks up the remote he dropped earlier, and fondles it; flipping the plastic device around in his hand.
“Oh, and Kahlan, you talk about your Sesame Street a lot don't you? Well hear this...
Big Bird says this war has only just begun.”
On that note, Erin returns with the bottle of Heineken that Smarky asked for. Nodding in gratitude, Smarky takes the drink, before cracking the top off on the edge of his desk and gulping down the alcoholic beverage.
EOT