Post by Deleted on May 25, 2013 17:33:28 GMT -5
"Are you sure we're at the right place?" an official motioned towards his camera crew to do a little more investigating. "I don't think anybody could live here... even if they wanted to!"
The camera zoomed in on the patch on the front of the official's pocket, which highlighted the letters "CRW" - an indication that the man was a front office executive with the major wrestling promotion. The team of three scatters about, looking for any signs of life, which seems in doubt with the condition of the building. It was run down with the light dangling above the entrance flickered with every step they made. The occasional spark caused the CRW official to jump back.
"I don't see anything," one of the cameraman blurted out, peaking through a broken window. “There isn’t anything but broken glass out here! I think I saw a colony of rats reenacting World War II over a wheel of cheese in the corner!”
"Let's get out of here," another from the crew gladly seconded his co-workers opinion. "Mr. Wilkinson must have had the wrong address. Even if he didn't, let's let him wade through this mess! If anybody is living here, they aren’t worthy of a contract from CRW!"
The official, who seemed to fill the leadership position, nodded and began to about face with the camera crew steps behind him, before a woman's voice called out to them from a distance.
"Ya'll ain't leavin' so soon are you? I don't think Mr. Wilkinson would be thrilled without having Mr. Reed's signature on that contract in your hands!"
The CRW employee glanced down at the manilla folder in his hands and slowly turned around to see "The Lady in Red" April Hunter, representative of "Crimson" Joe Reed. She was wearing a long, flowing black dress that sparkled despite the dilapidated surroundings. It was almost as if she had been photoshopped in to the background, her appearance unfitting for the facility. Much to the chagrin of the team, they slowly turned around and made their way back towards Miss. Hunter.
"I'm sorry, ma'am," he said. "We looked around for a few minutes and didn’t see anybody. We figured that we must have been in the wrong place.”
"Well, it's a good thing I decided to step out and take a smoke break, isn't it? You wouldn't want to upset Mr. Reed so early in the negotiations... would you?" April said.
"I assure you that we had no intentions of rocking the boat, ma'am. We'd still like to get Mr. Reed's John Hancock on this paper, we've got a big show coming up."
"Oh my," Miss Hunter said. "I don't doubt ole' Sally is a little worked up at the thought of getting her hands on my man... but let her stew. She doesn't know what she's getting in to! We'll just see if we can get this thing together."
"Nobody really knows what they're getting in to," he said. "Mr. Reed is a little bit of an enigma. It's not often we have a man of Reed's stature show up on one of our shows and attack one of our highest profile playmakers. That's why Mr. Wilkinson sent me on a little bit of a recon mission... to find out a little bit more about Joe Reed and what his plans are in the CRW."
"You mean he didn't send you to amend those little issues we had with his initial contract for us? I was sure that was the purpose of your little visit!"
They weren't going to pull one over on Miss Hunter. She'd seen a little bit of everything and didn't have any issues talking circles around any of the men that had come and gone to see Joe Reed over the past few years. "The Lady in Red" had spent years galavanting around the New York entertainment scene and was simply fed up with that lifestyle. Joe Reed provided a way out for her and in return, she'd manage his affairs.
"Of course," the man replied. "Shall we get to it?"
"I suppose we should," Hunter remarked. "Let's go ahead and agree on a few simple things. We have every major wrestling promotion on the planet looking to sign Mr. Reed to a very, very lucrative contract. If you aren't prepared to offer him something in the nine figure mark, I suggest you don't climb those steps, as it would be a major waste of both of our time... and please understand, wasting Mr. Reed's time doesn't make him very happy..."
"We wouldn't dream of it, ma'am."
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April pushes the door open to reveal a relatively plain apartment, which doesn’t come as a surprise judging from the outside appearance. A faint sound of water running in the background fills the room as the humidity forces an immediate sweat from the camera crew. The television flickering in the background illuminates the room as Miss Hunter stretches herself out over the unkempt bed, which appears to be slightly used, but the condition doesn’t seem to bother her much. The CRW official, now identified as Brian Clark by the nametag on his jacket, stumbles to a chair over in the corner of the room.
“We’re proposing a very lucrative deal here. One of the highest paid talents in the company, which will carry a full guarantee for the life of the contract, not something many companies have the stability to offer. You’ll have your own dressing room at every show and be accompanied by one of our stretch limousines for easy travel. I can assure you that Code Red Wrestling rolls out the red carpet better than any other company in the United States… and Joe Reed is certainly at the top of our list.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that for a second, honey,” April says sitting up from her prone position. “But we’re not interested in money. If needed that, we’d walk in to a bank and take what we wanted!”
Clark and the other cameraman share in nervous laughter, unable to distinguish between a joke and reality.
“We’re going to need something a little…more,” April runs her index finger underneath the chin of the jumpy Clark. “Money isn’t the issue and having a private dressing room and our own transportation isn’t going to seal the deal. See, we’ve lived through all those things before, and it hasn’t quite met our expectations. Mr. Reed has lived a life of luxury and prefers a more simple approach as you can see.”
She motions around the room to the drab surroundings. If Joe Reed was looking for a simple life – he’s surely accomplished it. The most eye-catching item in the room was the pile of clothes nearly four-feet-high in the corner of the room. It was almost by design, as if the two could pick-up and leave at a moment’s notice without leaving anything behind.
“I don’t think you realize the nugget of gold that is sitting in front of you. Mr. Reed is guaranteed to bring in a large number of merchandise just by being associated with a company like Code Red. All the seats will be filled for Mayhem by tomorrow morning just by word leaking out that he might appear… imagine what would happen if we actually worked out a deal for a match for the evening? You won’t find anybody who is bigger, faster, or stronger than Mr. Reed… and for that, we’re not comfortable with just money alone. We need something a little more significant and worthwhile for us to make the journey all the way down Miami. We’re talking about top billing here… and lucky for you, you have the only thing that appeals to us.”
“What are you looking for then?” Clark quizzed April. “You name your price. Mr. Wilkinson gave us the authority to stop at nothing to make sure Joe Reed is under contract with Code Red Wrestling.”
“It’s not what we want, Mr. Clark,” Miss Hunter leans in towards Clark with a hushed tone to her voice. “It’s *who* we want. Cleaning Miss Talfourd’s clock wasn’t a random act of violence. You see, we’re on a little mission, and Joe has told me that he simply wants Miss Talfourd erased from existence.”
“Maybe I just don’t understand,” Mr. Clark said with a confused look on his face. “I’m missing something.”
“Oh, you don’t need to worry yourselves with details, Mr. Clark!” April chuckled. “Mr. Reed is an expert in the area of collecting debts from people that haven’t paid their tabs… and Miss Talfourd certainly hasn’t had any issues in running up the bill. We’ll sign on one condition – you give us a match with Sally at Mayhem and after that, we’ll see how things go.”
“I’m not sure I can make that happen,” Mr. Clark mumbled with beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead.
“I’ve been around a lot of men in my day but none of them have backtracked faster than you have… be careful, Mr. Clark, or you’ll fall over your chair! I should have known that they’d send someone our way that didn’t have a backbone. I see you’ve been blowing smoke for the past twenty-or-so minutes, and quite honestly, we’re not interested in playing patty-cake, Mr. Clark. I thought you said that Mr. Wilkinson had given you some authority,” April said dangling her feet from the side of the bed. “Perhaps you’ve overstepped your boundaries a little. You can’t say that I didn’t warn you to not come up here unless you were fully prepared to go the extra mile… It’d be a shame if I had to interrupt Mr. Reed from his affairs…”
“I mean,” Brian wiped his brow with handkerchief. “We’re talking about Sally Talfourd here. This isn’t some random curtain jerker that we pulled from a hat. Multiple time APW Undisputed Champion. Undefeated in Code Red Wrestling and easily one of the best in the history of our great sport. You realize that throwing you in the ring with a legend isn’t a dance ticket that gets punched every day? Men and women spend their entire career and don’t get a chance to compete with headliners like Talfourd! I don’t know if you know just exactly what you’re asking for here…you’ve already pushed our hands by showing up on Face Off and attacking her!”
“So, what you’re saying is that we should be giving Sin City Wrestling a call and booking Joe Reed for next weeks Wildcard? The only thing I’m hearing from you is that we can’t do this and we can’t do that!”
“No,” Mr. Clark stumbled over his words. “That won’t be necessary! We’ll make sure Mr. Reed gets his wish. However, I’m curious to know why Mr. Reed isn’t present at these negotiations.”
It did seem odd that Joe Reed wasn’t there to sign his own contract. April Hunter had assumed the role as his representative and all dealings that any organization had would come through her. Their relationship was one shrouded in mystery. April Hunter had everything a girl could want – she spent her evenings headlining some of the highest grossing shows in New York. She was on every magazine cover and hanging on the walls of thousands bedrooms of teenage boys in as little clothing as one could be while still being considered “dressed.” She wasn’t a pushover but it seemed that someone of Reed’s size and stature would added an extra layer of intimidation during negotiations.
“Believe me, Mr. Reed and I are on the same page,” April assured Mr. Clark.
Joe Reed had lived through enough to count for two lifetimes. Any hopes of a “normal” life were thrown out the window at an early stage, when Reed towered over just about everyone he came in contact with. His enormous size not withstanding, he grew up in Lexington, Kentucky, where the color of his skin didn’t exactly ease fears of the local authorities. However difficult it may have been, Reed’s journey let him to April Hunter on the evening when he needed her most… and he had complete trust that she had his best interests in mind. The truth was that for the majority of Reed’s life, someone else had been calling the shots for him, and for once, he didn’t mind that it was April.
“Well, that settles it then,” Mr. Clark shouts excitedly. “The only thing that we’ll be needing is your signature in a few areas and we’ll make sure we get this in the hands of Mr. Wilkinson. Welcome to Code Red Wrestling!”
April ran her pen through a few lines on the paper and shoved the clipboard back to Mr. Clark, drawing applause from the CRW team in attendance.
“I know you mentioned earlier that we shouldn’t get caught up in details but I just can’t shake something. I have just one question – why Sally?” Clark asked. “Joe could have picked any competitor on the Code Red roster…and he chose Sally? He could basically have done whatever he wanted to do and there wouldn’t have been anybody with the gull to step up and stop him. At 6-foot-9, there aren’t very men that can stand in his way! I mean I would have thought that maybe he would have picked someone that could have posed more of a challenge physically? Don’t get me wrong, Sally is easily one of the top competitors in our business today but she’s going to be giving up nearly two hundred pounds and dealing with someone that’s over a foot taller. Help me understand.”
“You answered your own question, Brian,” April smiled in his direction. “There is an issue of respect and coming from where Joe’s come from, there hasn’t been a lot of that offered to Mr. Reed. Respect is something that is earned and you get it by stepping in the ring with the best. Sally spends all of her time begging for people to accept her…while Reed is convinced that the only way to gain respect is by taking it for himself. It’s simple, really, when you add it all up. Sally has the respect of her peers and others in Code Red, and Joe Reed is ready to seize that.”
“I’ll guess we’ll find out at Mayhem, won’t we?” Brian Clark remarked. “It’s certainly a match for the ages!”
Miss Hunter smiled at their ignorance, knowing that they had just given Joe Reed the keys to the kingdom. Sally Talfourd was just the beginning. It was only a matter of time before Joe Reed was wearing the crown and tearing the entire company down, thread by thread, and there wasn’t anything that anybody could do about it.
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The camera focused on a dark room, with only a small lamp sitting on a desk offering a glimpse to the surroundings. Joe Reed slowly emerges on to the scene, sitting down on a chair, with his elbows leaning over the table.
“Let me peel back reality for you, Sally, and give you a glimpse in to what lies ahead. You aren’t dealing with the lemmings that run out each and every week and lay down for the next great thing that comes their way any longer. You’re dealing with a monster that wants nothing more than to see your head on a stake outside of the arena! You’re dealing with someone that hates your guts and will stop at nothing to see you twitching on the mat after the bell rings.”
“To answer your question: Yes, I think the fans thoroughly enjoyed the pre-Mayhem entertainment last week at Face Off. Your problem is obvious…you rely on the fans for your strength and that’s why you won’t last longer than a cup of coffee against me. I’ve lived that life where I depended on others to establish my worth and it ended up coming back to bite me when everything came crashing down. You’re fooling yourself if you believe in anything different! These fans can’t differentiate between you and the next schmuck that comes through those curtains! You’re just another minion that begs for their approval and have essentially become their minion.”
“And truthfully, it doesn’t matter who you’re fighting for when the bell rings. Either way the game unfolds, it’s going to only end up one way: with both of us in the ring. You against me. Me against you. Those fans aren’t going to be in your corner, awaiting the hot tag, to jump in and fight in your stead. Their going to be in their seats, probably on the front row, and screaming encouragement to spurn you forward. But that’s just it, Sally…they won’t have any impact on the match. They can’t fight for you, and as much as you reach out to them, they can’t reach back!”
“Competition generally means that when two people stand in the ring, there is a chance that one is going to come out on top, or gain an advantage over the other. I can’t argue with your assessment that I don’t want competition, because quite frankly I’m interested in more than finding out who the better person is at the end of the day. I’m not interested in barely squeaking by and leaving lingering questions about who the better competitor was on that day. When the day is over, I’m going to make sure that there isn’t any doubt about who the best was!”
“And at the end of the day, I am the spectacle. I’m the reason why your fans show up in droves. Every good story needs an antagonist. They need someone to push their hero to the next level; otherwise, your story ends up being nothing but a fairy tale. You know how those go, don’t you? The princess shows her face at the ball, spins around a few times in her dress, as the crowd gasps. There’s always a happy ending somehow, where the low-born, brow-beater somehow ends up at the ball with his arms around the princess. Let me peel back reality for a moment and spoon-feed you a dose of truth! In the real world, there isn’t such a thing as a happy ending. You win, you lose, but there isn’t an in-between. If by some chance you win, it will only be because you somehow were able to pull the wool over the referee’s eyes, and for that, I’ll be ready to pound you six-inches in the ground like a tent stake! If you lose, you’ll be the sacred cow that your ‘fans’ will be ready to put out to pasture.”
“Your happy endings are only in children’s books. We’re not in Candyland. You aren’t the thimble skipping your way down Park Place. While you certainly qualify as the Old Maid, we’re fresh out of cards. This is your reality.”
“You live in a world where everything has to be black or white. Everything either has to be right or has to be wrong…and unfortunately, the world doesn’t operate under those conditions! Sometimes winning means taking the road less traveled in order to achieve your goals. You aren’t willing to do everything necessary to make sure you come out on top. What happens when the referee has turned his back and you have the opportunity to strike and gain an edge? What happens when you have the chance to use the ropes for a small bit of additional leverage? You won’t! And considering that you’ll already need every ounce of physical strength to defeat someone like me, you better think twice about living in your fantasy world. You’re going to muster up every ounce of advantage that you might have if you have any hope of beating me!”
“That’s why you don’t stand a chance. You’re too wrapped up in what the world thinks about you to do what it takes to actually win.”
“I don’t have any qualms in the way that I’ve accomplished my beginnings here in the CRW. You can continue to cry foul and I’ll simply move another step closer to pounding you in to submission! You can point fingers and pass blame, but the truth is that the entire world wants to see this match, and I don’t have any shame in the way I’ve secured my opportunities. There were two options – sit back and wait for someone like Talon Wilkinson to realize that he was sitting on a gold mine, or I could press forward and take the chance. We both obviously know how that played out and there is more of the same coming at Mayhem! I beg you to keep your nose up in the air and claim that I’m inferior because I take matters in to my own hand…because it only gives me easier access to take your head off of your shoulders!”
“I’m not here to be the president of your fan club, represent Code Red Wrestling, or put on a good match to put a few butts in the seats. You can talk all you want about how I’m a coward and that since I refuse to go about things “the right way,” I’m less of a man or less worthy of a spot on such a prestigious card like Mayhem. When we lock-up, the words that we’ve said won’t matter, and the only thing standing between the two of us will be space. And believe me, closing that gap between us will be a lot easier for me than it is for you!”
“You can try to escape, but I’ll constantly be on your trail. You’ll petition the referee to ring the bell and allow you to escape the hell that will surround you. You’ll do everything in your power to put distance between us but at the end of the day, you’ll fail.”
“…and you’ll fail miserably.”
The camera zoomed in on the patch on the front of the official's pocket, which highlighted the letters "CRW" - an indication that the man was a front office executive with the major wrestling promotion. The team of three scatters about, looking for any signs of life, which seems in doubt with the condition of the building. It was run down with the light dangling above the entrance flickered with every step they made. The occasional spark caused the CRW official to jump back.
"I don't see anything," one of the cameraman blurted out, peaking through a broken window. “There isn’t anything but broken glass out here! I think I saw a colony of rats reenacting World War II over a wheel of cheese in the corner!”
"Let's get out of here," another from the crew gladly seconded his co-workers opinion. "Mr. Wilkinson must have had the wrong address. Even if he didn't, let's let him wade through this mess! If anybody is living here, they aren’t worthy of a contract from CRW!"
The official, who seemed to fill the leadership position, nodded and began to about face with the camera crew steps behind him, before a woman's voice called out to them from a distance.
"Ya'll ain't leavin' so soon are you? I don't think Mr. Wilkinson would be thrilled without having Mr. Reed's signature on that contract in your hands!"
The CRW employee glanced down at the manilla folder in his hands and slowly turned around to see "The Lady in Red" April Hunter, representative of "Crimson" Joe Reed. She was wearing a long, flowing black dress that sparkled despite the dilapidated surroundings. It was almost as if she had been photoshopped in to the background, her appearance unfitting for the facility. Much to the chagrin of the team, they slowly turned around and made their way back towards Miss. Hunter.
"I'm sorry, ma'am," he said. "We looked around for a few minutes and didn’t see anybody. We figured that we must have been in the wrong place.”
"Well, it's a good thing I decided to step out and take a smoke break, isn't it? You wouldn't want to upset Mr. Reed so early in the negotiations... would you?" April said.
"I assure you that we had no intentions of rocking the boat, ma'am. We'd still like to get Mr. Reed's John Hancock on this paper, we've got a big show coming up."
"Oh my," Miss Hunter said. "I don't doubt ole' Sally is a little worked up at the thought of getting her hands on my man... but let her stew. She doesn't know what she's getting in to! We'll just see if we can get this thing together."
"Nobody really knows what they're getting in to," he said. "Mr. Reed is a little bit of an enigma. It's not often we have a man of Reed's stature show up on one of our shows and attack one of our highest profile playmakers. That's why Mr. Wilkinson sent me on a little bit of a recon mission... to find out a little bit more about Joe Reed and what his plans are in the CRW."
"You mean he didn't send you to amend those little issues we had with his initial contract for us? I was sure that was the purpose of your little visit!"
They weren't going to pull one over on Miss Hunter. She'd seen a little bit of everything and didn't have any issues talking circles around any of the men that had come and gone to see Joe Reed over the past few years. "The Lady in Red" had spent years galavanting around the New York entertainment scene and was simply fed up with that lifestyle. Joe Reed provided a way out for her and in return, she'd manage his affairs.
"Of course," the man replied. "Shall we get to it?"
"I suppose we should," Hunter remarked. "Let's go ahead and agree on a few simple things. We have every major wrestling promotion on the planet looking to sign Mr. Reed to a very, very lucrative contract. If you aren't prepared to offer him something in the nine figure mark, I suggest you don't climb those steps, as it would be a major waste of both of our time... and please understand, wasting Mr. Reed's time doesn't make him very happy..."
"We wouldn't dream of it, ma'am."
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April pushes the door open to reveal a relatively plain apartment, which doesn’t come as a surprise judging from the outside appearance. A faint sound of water running in the background fills the room as the humidity forces an immediate sweat from the camera crew. The television flickering in the background illuminates the room as Miss Hunter stretches herself out over the unkempt bed, which appears to be slightly used, but the condition doesn’t seem to bother her much. The CRW official, now identified as Brian Clark by the nametag on his jacket, stumbles to a chair over in the corner of the room.
“We’re proposing a very lucrative deal here. One of the highest paid talents in the company, which will carry a full guarantee for the life of the contract, not something many companies have the stability to offer. You’ll have your own dressing room at every show and be accompanied by one of our stretch limousines for easy travel. I can assure you that Code Red Wrestling rolls out the red carpet better than any other company in the United States… and Joe Reed is certainly at the top of our list.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that for a second, honey,” April says sitting up from her prone position. “But we’re not interested in money. If needed that, we’d walk in to a bank and take what we wanted!”
Clark and the other cameraman share in nervous laughter, unable to distinguish between a joke and reality.
“We’re going to need something a little…more,” April runs her index finger underneath the chin of the jumpy Clark. “Money isn’t the issue and having a private dressing room and our own transportation isn’t going to seal the deal. See, we’ve lived through all those things before, and it hasn’t quite met our expectations. Mr. Reed has lived a life of luxury and prefers a more simple approach as you can see.”
She motions around the room to the drab surroundings. If Joe Reed was looking for a simple life – he’s surely accomplished it. The most eye-catching item in the room was the pile of clothes nearly four-feet-high in the corner of the room. It was almost by design, as if the two could pick-up and leave at a moment’s notice without leaving anything behind.
“I don’t think you realize the nugget of gold that is sitting in front of you. Mr. Reed is guaranteed to bring in a large number of merchandise just by being associated with a company like Code Red. All the seats will be filled for Mayhem by tomorrow morning just by word leaking out that he might appear… imagine what would happen if we actually worked out a deal for a match for the evening? You won’t find anybody who is bigger, faster, or stronger than Mr. Reed… and for that, we’re not comfortable with just money alone. We need something a little more significant and worthwhile for us to make the journey all the way down Miami. We’re talking about top billing here… and lucky for you, you have the only thing that appeals to us.”
“What are you looking for then?” Clark quizzed April. “You name your price. Mr. Wilkinson gave us the authority to stop at nothing to make sure Joe Reed is under contract with Code Red Wrestling.”
“It’s not what we want, Mr. Clark,” Miss Hunter leans in towards Clark with a hushed tone to her voice. “It’s *who* we want. Cleaning Miss Talfourd’s clock wasn’t a random act of violence. You see, we’re on a little mission, and Joe has told me that he simply wants Miss Talfourd erased from existence.”
“Maybe I just don’t understand,” Mr. Clark said with a confused look on his face. “I’m missing something.”
“Oh, you don’t need to worry yourselves with details, Mr. Clark!” April chuckled. “Mr. Reed is an expert in the area of collecting debts from people that haven’t paid their tabs… and Miss Talfourd certainly hasn’t had any issues in running up the bill. We’ll sign on one condition – you give us a match with Sally at Mayhem and after that, we’ll see how things go.”
“I’m not sure I can make that happen,” Mr. Clark mumbled with beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead.
“I’ve been around a lot of men in my day but none of them have backtracked faster than you have… be careful, Mr. Clark, or you’ll fall over your chair! I should have known that they’d send someone our way that didn’t have a backbone. I see you’ve been blowing smoke for the past twenty-or-so minutes, and quite honestly, we’re not interested in playing patty-cake, Mr. Clark. I thought you said that Mr. Wilkinson had given you some authority,” April said dangling her feet from the side of the bed. “Perhaps you’ve overstepped your boundaries a little. You can’t say that I didn’t warn you to not come up here unless you were fully prepared to go the extra mile… It’d be a shame if I had to interrupt Mr. Reed from his affairs…”
“I mean,” Brian wiped his brow with handkerchief. “We’re talking about Sally Talfourd here. This isn’t some random curtain jerker that we pulled from a hat. Multiple time APW Undisputed Champion. Undefeated in Code Red Wrestling and easily one of the best in the history of our great sport. You realize that throwing you in the ring with a legend isn’t a dance ticket that gets punched every day? Men and women spend their entire career and don’t get a chance to compete with headliners like Talfourd! I don’t know if you know just exactly what you’re asking for here…you’ve already pushed our hands by showing up on Face Off and attacking her!”
“So, what you’re saying is that we should be giving Sin City Wrestling a call and booking Joe Reed for next weeks Wildcard? The only thing I’m hearing from you is that we can’t do this and we can’t do that!”
“No,” Mr. Clark stumbled over his words. “That won’t be necessary! We’ll make sure Mr. Reed gets his wish. However, I’m curious to know why Mr. Reed isn’t present at these negotiations.”
It did seem odd that Joe Reed wasn’t there to sign his own contract. April Hunter had assumed the role as his representative and all dealings that any organization had would come through her. Their relationship was one shrouded in mystery. April Hunter had everything a girl could want – she spent her evenings headlining some of the highest grossing shows in New York. She was on every magazine cover and hanging on the walls of thousands bedrooms of teenage boys in as little clothing as one could be while still being considered “dressed.” She wasn’t a pushover but it seemed that someone of Reed’s size and stature would added an extra layer of intimidation during negotiations.
“Believe me, Mr. Reed and I are on the same page,” April assured Mr. Clark.
Joe Reed had lived through enough to count for two lifetimes. Any hopes of a “normal” life were thrown out the window at an early stage, when Reed towered over just about everyone he came in contact with. His enormous size not withstanding, he grew up in Lexington, Kentucky, where the color of his skin didn’t exactly ease fears of the local authorities. However difficult it may have been, Reed’s journey let him to April Hunter on the evening when he needed her most… and he had complete trust that she had his best interests in mind. The truth was that for the majority of Reed’s life, someone else had been calling the shots for him, and for once, he didn’t mind that it was April.
“Well, that settles it then,” Mr. Clark shouts excitedly. “The only thing that we’ll be needing is your signature in a few areas and we’ll make sure we get this in the hands of Mr. Wilkinson. Welcome to Code Red Wrestling!”
April ran her pen through a few lines on the paper and shoved the clipboard back to Mr. Clark, drawing applause from the CRW team in attendance.
“I know you mentioned earlier that we shouldn’t get caught up in details but I just can’t shake something. I have just one question – why Sally?” Clark asked. “Joe could have picked any competitor on the Code Red roster…and he chose Sally? He could basically have done whatever he wanted to do and there wouldn’t have been anybody with the gull to step up and stop him. At 6-foot-9, there aren’t very men that can stand in his way! I mean I would have thought that maybe he would have picked someone that could have posed more of a challenge physically? Don’t get me wrong, Sally is easily one of the top competitors in our business today but she’s going to be giving up nearly two hundred pounds and dealing with someone that’s over a foot taller. Help me understand.”
“You answered your own question, Brian,” April smiled in his direction. “There is an issue of respect and coming from where Joe’s come from, there hasn’t been a lot of that offered to Mr. Reed. Respect is something that is earned and you get it by stepping in the ring with the best. Sally spends all of her time begging for people to accept her…while Reed is convinced that the only way to gain respect is by taking it for himself. It’s simple, really, when you add it all up. Sally has the respect of her peers and others in Code Red, and Joe Reed is ready to seize that.”
“I’ll guess we’ll find out at Mayhem, won’t we?” Brian Clark remarked. “It’s certainly a match for the ages!”
Miss Hunter smiled at their ignorance, knowing that they had just given Joe Reed the keys to the kingdom. Sally Talfourd was just the beginning. It was only a matter of time before Joe Reed was wearing the crown and tearing the entire company down, thread by thread, and there wasn’t anything that anybody could do about it.
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The camera focused on a dark room, with only a small lamp sitting on a desk offering a glimpse to the surroundings. Joe Reed slowly emerges on to the scene, sitting down on a chair, with his elbows leaning over the table.
“Let me peel back reality for you, Sally, and give you a glimpse in to what lies ahead. You aren’t dealing with the lemmings that run out each and every week and lay down for the next great thing that comes their way any longer. You’re dealing with a monster that wants nothing more than to see your head on a stake outside of the arena! You’re dealing with someone that hates your guts and will stop at nothing to see you twitching on the mat after the bell rings.”
“To answer your question: Yes, I think the fans thoroughly enjoyed the pre-Mayhem entertainment last week at Face Off. Your problem is obvious…you rely on the fans for your strength and that’s why you won’t last longer than a cup of coffee against me. I’ve lived that life where I depended on others to establish my worth and it ended up coming back to bite me when everything came crashing down. You’re fooling yourself if you believe in anything different! These fans can’t differentiate between you and the next schmuck that comes through those curtains! You’re just another minion that begs for their approval and have essentially become their minion.”
“And truthfully, it doesn’t matter who you’re fighting for when the bell rings. Either way the game unfolds, it’s going to only end up one way: with both of us in the ring. You against me. Me against you. Those fans aren’t going to be in your corner, awaiting the hot tag, to jump in and fight in your stead. Their going to be in their seats, probably on the front row, and screaming encouragement to spurn you forward. But that’s just it, Sally…they won’t have any impact on the match. They can’t fight for you, and as much as you reach out to them, they can’t reach back!”
“Competition generally means that when two people stand in the ring, there is a chance that one is going to come out on top, or gain an advantage over the other. I can’t argue with your assessment that I don’t want competition, because quite frankly I’m interested in more than finding out who the better person is at the end of the day. I’m not interested in barely squeaking by and leaving lingering questions about who the better competitor was on that day. When the day is over, I’m going to make sure that there isn’t any doubt about who the best was!”
“And at the end of the day, I am the spectacle. I’m the reason why your fans show up in droves. Every good story needs an antagonist. They need someone to push their hero to the next level; otherwise, your story ends up being nothing but a fairy tale. You know how those go, don’t you? The princess shows her face at the ball, spins around a few times in her dress, as the crowd gasps. There’s always a happy ending somehow, where the low-born, brow-beater somehow ends up at the ball with his arms around the princess. Let me peel back reality for a moment and spoon-feed you a dose of truth! In the real world, there isn’t such a thing as a happy ending. You win, you lose, but there isn’t an in-between. If by some chance you win, it will only be because you somehow were able to pull the wool over the referee’s eyes, and for that, I’ll be ready to pound you six-inches in the ground like a tent stake! If you lose, you’ll be the sacred cow that your ‘fans’ will be ready to put out to pasture.”
“Your happy endings are only in children’s books. We’re not in Candyland. You aren’t the thimble skipping your way down Park Place. While you certainly qualify as the Old Maid, we’re fresh out of cards. This is your reality.”
“You live in a world where everything has to be black or white. Everything either has to be right or has to be wrong…and unfortunately, the world doesn’t operate under those conditions! Sometimes winning means taking the road less traveled in order to achieve your goals. You aren’t willing to do everything necessary to make sure you come out on top. What happens when the referee has turned his back and you have the opportunity to strike and gain an edge? What happens when you have the chance to use the ropes for a small bit of additional leverage? You won’t! And considering that you’ll already need every ounce of physical strength to defeat someone like me, you better think twice about living in your fantasy world. You’re going to muster up every ounce of advantage that you might have if you have any hope of beating me!”
“That’s why you don’t stand a chance. You’re too wrapped up in what the world thinks about you to do what it takes to actually win.”
“I don’t have any qualms in the way that I’ve accomplished my beginnings here in the CRW. You can continue to cry foul and I’ll simply move another step closer to pounding you in to submission! You can point fingers and pass blame, but the truth is that the entire world wants to see this match, and I don’t have any shame in the way I’ve secured my opportunities. There were two options – sit back and wait for someone like Talon Wilkinson to realize that he was sitting on a gold mine, or I could press forward and take the chance. We both obviously know how that played out and there is more of the same coming at Mayhem! I beg you to keep your nose up in the air and claim that I’m inferior because I take matters in to my own hand…because it only gives me easier access to take your head off of your shoulders!”
“I’m not here to be the president of your fan club, represent Code Red Wrestling, or put on a good match to put a few butts in the seats. You can talk all you want about how I’m a coward and that since I refuse to go about things “the right way,” I’m less of a man or less worthy of a spot on such a prestigious card like Mayhem. When we lock-up, the words that we’ve said won’t matter, and the only thing standing between the two of us will be space. And believe me, closing that gap between us will be a lot easier for me than it is for you!”
“You can try to escape, but I’ll constantly be on your trail. You’ll petition the referee to ring the bell and allow you to escape the hell that will surround you. You’ll do everything in your power to put distance between us but at the end of the day, you’ll fail.”
“…and you’ll fail miserably.”
