Post by Nick Watson on Feb 13, 2011 14:50:55 GMT -4
*New York City, Present Day, Madok's Office for Mortalis Incorporated Eastern Branch*
The scene opens up on Madok beating his fingers on his desk, he doesn't look very concerned, and looks rather relaxed, but he seems to be waiting for some one or something. As a knock is heard around the almost empty office, Madok stops beating his fingers on the desk, and looks to the door to his office.
"Come in."
The door opens as none other than Pence Weatherlight steps in, Pence is dressed in a heavy jacket and a pair of thick jeans, and looks rather cold. Pence takes off his jacket before walking over to the desk to take a seat in front of Madok's desk.
"Okay, I'm here. What did you want to talk about?"
"Well first things first, how was your flight?"
"Just as shitty as always. I would travel by car if the roads weren't so unsafe."
"Yeah, them roads are pretty fucking tricky this time of year. Its why I'm usually flying to locations during the winter. Anyway, I brought you here to ask you for a simple favor Pence."
Pence leans forward a bit as he waits for the favor to be asked.
"Right now I am dealing with two Neanderthals who think they are God's gift to wrestling and knowing Neanderthals, I think I may need your help today. Do you mind giving me some support in my corner today?"
Pence leans back in his chair after hearing the request and lets out a sigh as he folds his hands in his lap.
"We both know, I don't like to interfere in matches. I find it to be barbaric and rude."
"I'm not asking you to interfere. I'm asking you to cover me if things start going south. Lets just say these two are several cards short of a full deck and I would like to have an insurance policy if they decide to go all Jason Vorhees on me and try to cut me up with a machete."
Pence let out a chuckle and then shrugged his shoulders. Madok, clearly not amused, let out a 'hoomph' like noise to explain his anger, and then turned away from Pence to look out his window to the skyline outside. Seeing how pissed Madok is, Pence calmly began to speak.
"I'm sure they aren't that bad."
"Oh yeah?"
Madok turns around with a grin on his face and then presses a button on his desk. A large flat screen television with all the works descends from the roof and comes to life. Images of Gambler and Bodacious and Gambler fill the screen as the latest shit pile of a promotion rolls for Pence to watch.
*Scene bursts to static*
*A Few Minutes Later*
"Are they fucking serious?"
Pence said as the flat screen went back into the roof, leaving a rather silent room. Pence turned to look at Madok who simply just nodded his head, letting Pence know that was just who they were. Pence shakes his head.
"I thought APW had their rejects, but these two take the cake that is for sure. I mean do they honestly think you were born yesterday? Or that you are untalented? I mean was it not you who won the belt in the first place...thus becoming the first holder of a championship belt here in this company?"
"Sadly they think I'm a victim of circumstance and let me tell you that there is just no way you will be able to tell them otherwise because quite frankly they don't care. Everything I say goes in one fucking ear and out the other. It is like I'm talking to myself and they just throw in their two cents every few minutes or so."
Madok shrugs as he lifts up the glass he had filled for himself, full of an expensive liquor, and chugs it down. He lets out a crisp sigh as he fold his hands on his desk and then promptly begins to slam his head into it. Pence raises and eyebrow and after a while Madok stops to look at Pence.
"This is a handicap match...this is suppose to be stacked in their favor, and right now it doesn't look like they have a damn clue as to what is going on or who the fuck they are messing with! It is just fucking irritating. I'm an ex-megastar...I've been beyond thunderdome and these piss ants! Are getting on my fucking nerves."
Madok lets out a growl as he leans back in his chair, rubbing his temples with his fingertips.
"Would it be so hard to find good competition? Eh? Can Regi not find me one fucking guy who is worth my time, because clearly this shit didn't work! Clearly stacking the deck against me won't work...for fuck's sake...get some new talent with a brain or at least a few brain cells instead of these lower class organism sucking protoplasm at the bottom of the fucking barrel. For fuck's sake! What can I say! I'm the best champion in IWC, hands down...I'm the only one who gets above average treatment, and still they can't find me one entertaining opponent to bicker with. Instead...I get tweedle fucking dee, and tweedle fucking dumb over here! Why the fuck me?! WHY THE FUCK ME!? Have these two wrestle a blind man, I'm sure they could win that, or hell make them wrestle Jason Royce...no, I'm sure Royce would make them shit themselves.
What happened to the old standard? What happened to actually needing talent to compete? What happened to that, Pence?"
"I have no idea. Talent is becoming harder and harder to find nowadays...some times people like this slip through the cracks and..."
"Fuck the show beyond recognition?"
"Yeah."
Madok leans forward, bringing his mouth to hand level as he elevates his hands, now folded to meet, his mouth. Clearly deep in thought, Madok then continues in the same pose, his eyes fixated on the camera.
"This is fucking absurd...hell, this is fucking ludicrous, but yet it is going to happen. I have to fight these two apes tonight and you know what...this match won't be entertaining...it won't be fun...it is going to suck. It is going to be boring and nobody is going to want to see any fucking replays. I'm going to end them both...I will break...no...sever their fucking spinal cords and watch as not a drip of talent comes out. I will take a leaf blower and blow Gambler away as if he were a pile of dead leaves or dust on some forgotten tome in the middle of a library. As for Bodacious...oh Bodacious will be getting his. His whole life is about to go from decent to hell...that is a guarantee and in business there is nothing of a higher order than a guarantee. Fuck promises, fucking gambling, the only thing that matters is that I, Madok Mortalis, guarantee that tonight...in front of my peers...I will destroy them both. I will make them cry...I will make them beg....and as they wheep and moan like the bitches they are I will show no fucking mercy because I am the fucking Cloud Chaser...and unlike anyone else...in this match....I have talent! I have skill and I have finesse and you want to know the kicker...I have a fucking future. I'm not two washed up has beens looking for a second chance....I am the fucking now."
Madok removes his folded hands from his face, a sneer covering his face.
"So go ahead...do what you both will...enjoy your party...hell fuck a few hoes if you like because that is the last thing you two fucking pricks will ever do because beating you both is going to be easier than beating those drunks for their cash in a game of cards because quite frankly...they at least had better poker faces. I can see your fear...fuck this fake sense of superiority. I'm a business man, not some fucking low life sleaze who got lucky. I know the tricks of the trade and one of those things is reading people...it is why I surround myself with interesting individuals and people I can trust....and you both can 'bet' that you are neither. You are as bland as this lame ass wallpaper in my office that I am replacing."
Madok points to the walls in his office and the camera looks around at the white walls and then back at Madok.
"So lets make a wager, shall we? I wager that both of you guys both get what you deserve for fucking me over last week. I also wager that both of you don't know who the hell you are fucking with otherwise you wouldn't have talked about my deceased family."
"I must of missed that."
"And as far as girlfriends go...I'm a player. I don't have a girlfriend....at this moment. So lets talk about the reality of the situation...you are fucking with someone you don't understand...who happens to be rich and powerful and could just as easily get my friends or 'associates' to make you disappear for good? Think about that before you open your mouth you fucking old Ric flair looking bastard. Oh and the comparison had nothing with you bleeding, it had everything to do with you being a leach. Welcome to the world of metaphorical speech you fucking simpleton. And as for you Bodacious, keep on grinning, and just nod your head that is topped off with your five dollar haircut, because quite honestly you are the stupidest piece of shit I have ever seen and I have dealt with Damian Dimitri! Man, you are an all time low...so for the last time...read it and wheep...FUCK OFF! I don't have time for this shit!"
Madok looks away from the camera as Pence shakes his head as the scene fades to black.
*Scene fades to black*
The scene opens up on Madok beating his fingers on his desk, he doesn't look very concerned, and looks rather relaxed, but he seems to be waiting for some one or something. As a knock is heard around the almost empty office, Madok stops beating his fingers on the desk, and looks to the door to his office.
"Come in."
The door opens as none other than Pence Weatherlight steps in, Pence is dressed in a heavy jacket and a pair of thick jeans, and looks rather cold. Pence takes off his jacket before walking over to the desk to take a seat in front of Madok's desk.
"Okay, I'm here. What did you want to talk about?"
"Well first things first, how was your flight?"
"Just as shitty as always. I would travel by car if the roads weren't so unsafe."
"Yeah, them roads are pretty fucking tricky this time of year. Its why I'm usually flying to locations during the winter. Anyway, I brought you here to ask you for a simple favor Pence."
Pence leans forward a bit as he waits for the favor to be asked.
"Right now I am dealing with two Neanderthals who think they are God's gift to wrestling and knowing Neanderthals, I think I may need your help today. Do you mind giving me some support in my corner today?"
Pence leans back in his chair after hearing the request and lets out a sigh as he folds his hands in his lap.
"We both know, I don't like to interfere in matches. I find it to be barbaric and rude."
"I'm not asking you to interfere. I'm asking you to cover me if things start going south. Lets just say these two are several cards short of a full deck and I would like to have an insurance policy if they decide to go all Jason Vorhees on me and try to cut me up with a machete."
Pence let out a chuckle and then shrugged his shoulders. Madok, clearly not amused, let out a 'hoomph' like noise to explain his anger, and then turned away from Pence to look out his window to the skyline outside. Seeing how pissed Madok is, Pence calmly began to speak.
"I'm sure they aren't that bad."
"Oh yeah?"
Madok turns around with a grin on his face and then presses a button on his desk. A large flat screen television with all the works descends from the roof and comes to life. Images of Gambler and Bodacious and Gambler fill the screen as the latest shit pile of a promotion rolls for Pence to watch.
*Scene bursts to static*
----------------------------------------------------
*A Few Minutes Later*
"Are they fucking serious?"
Pence said as the flat screen went back into the roof, leaving a rather silent room. Pence turned to look at Madok who simply just nodded his head, letting Pence know that was just who they were. Pence shakes his head.
"I thought APW had their rejects, but these two take the cake that is for sure. I mean do they honestly think you were born yesterday? Or that you are untalented? I mean was it not you who won the belt in the first place...thus becoming the first holder of a championship belt here in this company?"
"Sadly they think I'm a victim of circumstance and let me tell you that there is just no way you will be able to tell them otherwise because quite frankly they don't care. Everything I say goes in one fucking ear and out the other. It is like I'm talking to myself and they just throw in their two cents every few minutes or so."
Madok shrugs as he lifts up the glass he had filled for himself, full of an expensive liquor, and chugs it down. He lets out a crisp sigh as he fold his hands on his desk and then promptly begins to slam his head into it. Pence raises and eyebrow and after a while Madok stops to look at Pence.
"This is a handicap match...this is suppose to be stacked in their favor, and right now it doesn't look like they have a damn clue as to what is going on or who the fuck they are messing with! It is just fucking irritating. I'm an ex-megastar...I've been beyond thunderdome and these piss ants! Are getting on my fucking nerves."
Madok lets out a growl as he leans back in his chair, rubbing his temples with his fingertips.
"Would it be so hard to find good competition? Eh? Can Regi not find me one fucking guy who is worth my time, because clearly this shit didn't work! Clearly stacking the deck against me won't work...for fuck's sake...get some new talent with a brain or at least a few brain cells instead of these lower class organism sucking protoplasm at the bottom of the fucking barrel. For fuck's sake! What can I say! I'm the best champion in IWC, hands down...I'm the only one who gets above average treatment, and still they can't find me one entertaining opponent to bicker with. Instead...I get tweedle fucking dee, and tweedle fucking dumb over here! Why the fuck me?! WHY THE FUCK ME!? Have these two wrestle a blind man, I'm sure they could win that, or hell make them wrestle Jason Royce...no, I'm sure Royce would make them shit themselves.
What happened to the old standard? What happened to actually needing talent to compete? What happened to that, Pence?"
"I have no idea. Talent is becoming harder and harder to find nowadays...some times people like this slip through the cracks and..."
"Fuck the show beyond recognition?"
"Yeah."
Madok leans forward, bringing his mouth to hand level as he elevates his hands, now folded to meet, his mouth. Clearly deep in thought, Madok then continues in the same pose, his eyes fixated on the camera.
"This is fucking absurd...hell, this is fucking ludicrous, but yet it is going to happen. I have to fight these two apes tonight and you know what...this match won't be entertaining...it won't be fun...it is going to suck. It is going to be boring and nobody is going to want to see any fucking replays. I'm going to end them both...I will break...no...sever their fucking spinal cords and watch as not a drip of talent comes out. I will take a leaf blower and blow Gambler away as if he were a pile of dead leaves or dust on some forgotten tome in the middle of a library. As for Bodacious...oh Bodacious will be getting his. His whole life is about to go from decent to hell...that is a guarantee and in business there is nothing of a higher order than a guarantee. Fuck promises, fucking gambling, the only thing that matters is that I, Madok Mortalis, guarantee that tonight...in front of my peers...I will destroy them both. I will make them cry...I will make them beg....and as they wheep and moan like the bitches they are I will show no fucking mercy because I am the fucking Cloud Chaser...and unlike anyone else...in this match....I have talent! I have skill and I have finesse and you want to know the kicker...I have a fucking future. I'm not two washed up has beens looking for a second chance....I am the fucking now."
Madok removes his folded hands from his face, a sneer covering his face.
"So go ahead...do what you both will...enjoy your party...hell fuck a few hoes if you like because that is the last thing you two fucking pricks will ever do because beating you both is going to be easier than beating those drunks for their cash in a game of cards because quite frankly...they at least had better poker faces. I can see your fear...fuck this fake sense of superiority. I'm a business man, not some fucking low life sleaze who got lucky. I know the tricks of the trade and one of those things is reading people...it is why I surround myself with interesting individuals and people I can trust....and you both can 'bet' that you are neither. You are as bland as this lame ass wallpaper in my office that I am replacing."
Madok points to the walls in his office and the camera looks around at the white walls and then back at Madok.
"So lets make a wager, shall we? I wager that both of you guys both get what you deserve for fucking me over last week. I also wager that both of you don't know who the hell you are fucking with otherwise you wouldn't have talked about my deceased family."
"I must of missed that."
"And as far as girlfriends go...I'm a player. I don't have a girlfriend....at this moment. So lets talk about the reality of the situation...you are fucking with someone you don't understand...who happens to be rich and powerful and could just as easily get my friends or 'associates' to make you disappear for good? Think about that before you open your mouth you fucking old Ric flair looking bastard. Oh and the comparison had nothing with you bleeding, it had everything to do with you being a leach. Welcome to the world of metaphorical speech you fucking simpleton. And as for you Bodacious, keep on grinning, and just nod your head that is topped off with your five dollar haircut, because quite honestly you are the stupidest piece of shit I have ever seen and I have dealt with Damian Dimitri! Man, you are an all time low...so for the last time...read it and wheep...FUCK OFF! I don't have time for this shit!"
Madok looks away from the camera as Pence shakes his head as the scene fades to black.
*Scene fades to black*
