Post by thrashmetaldan on Jul 5, 2012 16:48:59 GMT -6
Anthony Sanderson paced back and forth in his client’s dressing room, nervously. He was on edge. He had made one of the biggest free agent signings available in the sport and had gotten him on an a-list promotion. The man was at the peak of training. He was like an animal in practice, and Anthony had never seen anyone work as hard on their conditioning. Damien was like a finely tuned instrument of destruction. There was never a hair follicle out of place for him. Never a calorie unaccounted for. And his sparring partners never left with limping. And now the bastard wanted to put it all at risk with stupid declarations.
Just as he thought that, his client enters.
“Can you tell me just what the hell you think you were doing out there?!? We were doing so well, Big D! You hadn’t had an outburst like that in months. We were keeping a low profile. You ran through the minor leagues like Charlie Sheen through a sorority cuz ya didn’t piss everyone off like that! They had no idea who you were until a few seconds ago, and THAT’S how you introduce yourself?!? A two minute spot of you telling everyone else how worthless they are? Come on! There’s a difference between ballsy and stupid. And you sir, just crossed it!”
A few moments pass, and Damien stands there quietly absorbing what the man had said. Then, an angry scowl crosses his face.
“I told you, Anthony. Don’t call me “ Big D”. Don’t call me “Wicked Vince”, “Vinny”, or “Crazy Damien”. My name is Damien Vincent. I’m a man. Not a child, or a damned merchandising scheme. We’re out of the dive bars and b-lists. We don’t need gimmicky nicknames anymore.”
“You’re missing the point! If you had just walked to the ring your first time and laid a beating on some poor sap, you could have kept the profile low! We wouldn’t have had to deal with unwarranted attention!”
Damien’s eyes flare up madly. Like a cobra who’s tail has been stepped on. He immediately grabs Anthony by the neck in his right had and sweeps his leg. Landing a textbook, thunderous chokehold sto. He seems barely conscious. Damien kneels down to shout in his ear.
“UNWARRANTED?!?! Your paycheck is unwarranted! You being married and gaining the ability to procreate is unwarranted!! The attention I’ll receive for that spot is completely warranted! They know me now! And you, along with the rest of them will have to learn to recognize your betters! I may have listened to you while we were competing in Joketown, Louisiana...but this is the damned USPW! AND I WILL NOT TOLERATE THE DISRESPECT OF YOU, OR ANYONE ANY LONGER!!”
He takes a moment to gather himself, and a serene smile takes the place of the heat and anger that was there a moment earlier.
“I mean what I said, dearest Anthony. I am the apex of this industry. And I’m going to demonstrate it to them.”
He chuckles absentmindedly.
“Let them bring me this “unwarranted attention”. I shall show them what a champion looks like... and I hope you have a good nap, Anthony.”
Damien exits casually, checking his hair in the mirror first. Not a follicle out of place.
Just as he thought that, his client enters.
“Can you tell me just what the hell you think you were doing out there?!? We were doing so well, Big D! You hadn’t had an outburst like that in months. We were keeping a low profile. You ran through the minor leagues like Charlie Sheen through a sorority cuz ya didn’t piss everyone off like that! They had no idea who you were until a few seconds ago, and THAT’S how you introduce yourself?!? A two minute spot of you telling everyone else how worthless they are? Come on! There’s a difference between ballsy and stupid. And you sir, just crossed it!”
A few moments pass, and Damien stands there quietly absorbing what the man had said. Then, an angry scowl crosses his face.
“I told you, Anthony. Don’t call me “ Big D”. Don’t call me “Wicked Vince”, “Vinny”, or “Crazy Damien”. My name is Damien Vincent. I’m a man. Not a child, or a damned merchandising scheme. We’re out of the dive bars and b-lists. We don’t need gimmicky nicknames anymore.”
“You’re missing the point! If you had just walked to the ring your first time and laid a beating on some poor sap, you could have kept the profile low! We wouldn’t have had to deal with unwarranted attention!”
Damien’s eyes flare up madly. Like a cobra who’s tail has been stepped on. He immediately grabs Anthony by the neck in his right had and sweeps his leg. Landing a textbook, thunderous chokehold sto. He seems barely conscious. Damien kneels down to shout in his ear.
“UNWARRANTED?!?! Your paycheck is unwarranted! You being married and gaining the ability to procreate is unwarranted!! The attention I’ll receive for that spot is completely warranted! They know me now! And you, along with the rest of them will have to learn to recognize your betters! I may have listened to you while we were competing in Joketown, Louisiana...but this is the damned USPW! AND I WILL NOT TOLERATE THE DISRESPECT OF YOU, OR ANYONE ANY LONGER!!”
He takes a moment to gather himself, and a serene smile takes the place of the heat and anger that was there a moment earlier.
“I mean what I said, dearest Anthony. I am the apex of this industry. And I’m going to demonstrate it to them.”
He chuckles absentmindedly.
“Let them bring me this “unwarranted attention”. I shall show them what a champion looks like... and I hope you have a good nap, Anthony.”
Damien exits casually, checking his hair in the mirror first. Not a follicle out of place.