Post by Metroll the Deplorable on Nov 3, 2016 20:40:24 GMT -5
Man, can’t we get a stunt double to do that?
James Hart is shown floating along a lazy river, a pristine resort hotel behind him and the busy nature of a movie set in front. “Ya want me to jump from the second story into the pool … ass naked? Where was that in the script?” he questions aloud as the frazzled director stares at him.
“Call it a moment of inspiration. We all saw you do it last night and … “ the director says as James rolls his eyes at him.
“Then let’s call that a moment of inspiration. I was drunk as hell last night and fuckin’ Harry was too big a pussy to do it“ James says, a smile curling in the upper corner of his lip. And naw … there was no ménage action goin’ on. The director throws up his hands flabbergasted, turning away as the smile is now plastered across James’ face.
“’cause I was the only one gettin’ any!”
“I believe there’s been a mistake. Mr. Hart was contracted with Disney and its subsidiary, ESPN. I see the cheques go into the mail every two weeks.”
The law offices of Samuel E. Stein are as immaculate as ever: that is to say that James Hart has not been seen in them since the last time the cleaning crew arrived. Biting his left thumb-nail, Stein listens intently to the caller on the other end – unmoved by what they are saying. “I appreciate your predicament …” he says before pausing momentarily, evidently interrupted by the caller, a vein popping out from his right temple. “I wrote the original contract. I don’t need to review the terms.”
Frustration evident in his demeanor, Stein begins to fidget with his ball-point pen. The heavy weighted back-end rocking back and forth between his thumb and forefinger. “Yes, I understand that he was obligated to appear on each Code Red Wrestling broadcast but that doesn’t absolve the fact he is contracted with Disney, who effectively sub-contracted him out to Code Red Wrestling” Stein continues, his disposition on a steady path towards tectonic catastrophe.
“You’re trying to tell me that even though Wilkinson gave …” he carries on before being interrupted once more, setting off the volcanic eruption. “Fuck it! I’ll review the contract damnit but we’ll be sure to send you a bill for our time doing it and putting up with this shit.”
Slamming his phone against the desk he reaches into the second drawer on the left and pulls out a bottle and a small tumbler. “Code Red Wrestling … what a load of shit. Wilkinson gave up on it three years ago when he was on top of the world. He’s not stupid enough to get back into this” he comments to himself as he pours a double shot into the glass. Tucking the bottle away, he reaches into the drawer below and pulls out a medium sized document and purposefully turns to a specific page. Taking a sip from the glass he scans the page before flipping to the next. As he continues on, though the warmth from the golden liquid should bring color to his cheeks, instead they have turned a pale white as his eyes quickly dart back to the top before scanning once more.
“Fuck!” he exclaims loudly before setting the glass and the document down. Grabbing his phone once more, expertly mashing at the buttons on the touchscreen, he reads the document for a third time quickly before he is answered on the other line. “Yes … we need to get James here as early as possible.”
“I know …. I know. I get it he’s busy but this is important.”
“Yes, I understand …”
“Yes, we should probably raise it to Code: Nuke. He’s not going to be happy in the slightest.”
“Alright. Thanks.”
Hanging up the phone, this time setting it on his desk gently as he grabs the tumbler, Stein shakes his head as he runs his hands through the thinning hair on his head, a pained look on his face.
“Fuck!”
“No, I’m not interested in adding Jason Freeman to the roster.”
Rorey shakes his head as he sits behind his desk in his office, now a bit more furnished than before. He takes his cane and gently hits himself in the forehead with it out of frustration “Look, I appreciate the phone call but we’re …” he says before the caller on the other side interrupts him. He takes the phone away from his ear and lets out a sigh before brining it back to his ear, “I’m sorry but I've just got done traveling the country personally contacting the talent Code Red is interested in. I didn't come to you or your client. If I do, you'll understand.”
Rorey hangs up his cellphone and throws it onto his desk and rubs his face to relieve the stress. “Just...one...day. That's all I have to relax...” he comments before letting out a deep sigh. Tapping the pen on the desk absent-mindedly, his reverie is broken by a knock on the door.
“Courier” says a voice from the other side of the door. Rorey raises an eyebrow before grabbing his cane and lifting himself out of his chair. He walks to the door and opens the door..
“What the hell?” Rorey asks as he quickly sizes up the courier, small in stature with a bored expression on his face.
“I have a delivery for this office” he says flatly, extending a brown envelope towards Rory and then the small tracking computer. “If you can sign here accepting delivery …”
Rorey studies him for a moment before signing the touch screen and sending the courier on his way. "What did Talon send me?" he wonders allowed. Turning around, expertly kicking the door shut with his back heel, Rorey begins opening the folder and pulls out a single sheet of paper. “Disney Corporation ….” he comments as he takes a seat behind his desk once more, his eyes focused on the paper.
“Well … this will be interesting.”
“Da Fuck ya mean I gotta wrestle?”
The formerly immaculate offices of Samuel E. Stein now stand with papers littering the floor and Richard Parker III cleaning himself on the desk. “Could we at least move the Cat I …” Stein begins before being interrupted by James.
“Richard Parker III has a name and I’d watch ya mouth around him” James says before continuing in his best Muhammed Ali impression. ’cause he sting like a butterfly and floats like a bee.
Stein stares at James, his mouth slightly agape as Parker gives a subtle mew. “I believe the saying is ‘float like a butterfly, sting like a bee’” he says, the absence of a head shake a telling sign that on the list of things James has send and done over the years that it doesn’t rank particularly high.
“Man, I’m improvin’ on what that shaky dude said.” Hart replies before immediately changing the subject as Stein shakes his head this time. “I was thinking of throwing a pool party in Orlando in a couple weeks. We haven’t done that in a while? We can have fireworks and …”
“You haven’t had one in a while because of what happened last time” Stein replies, visions of the aftermath of the previous party and the mountains of paperwork that ensued, running through his head. “Besides, from the looks of it you’ll be having other things to do most weekends for the foreseeable future.”
“I’m not fuckin’ doin’ it.” James responds to Stein as he gets up off the desk and grabs Richard Parker III into his arms. “Figure a way out of this shit ‘cause I’m not doin’ it.
Watching James head to the door, Stein sighs underneath his breath. “What do you think I’ve been doing? It’s not going to be that simple. We wrote this contract to protect you initially and Disney insisted on …”
“I don’t need excuses. I need results.” James says cutting Stein off as he opens the door to the office. “I’m not doin’ it. End of story.”
James exits the office as Stein looks at him, then at the cell phone on his desk, then back at James as he stands waiting for the elevator to take him out of the office.
James Hart is shown floating along a lazy river, a pristine resort hotel behind him and the busy nature of a movie set in front. “Ya want me to jump from the second story into the pool … ass naked? Where was that in the script?” he questions aloud as the frazzled director stares at him.
“Call it a moment of inspiration. We all saw you do it last night and … “ the director says as James rolls his eyes at him.
“Then let’s call that a moment of inspiration. I was drunk as hell last night and fuckin’ Harry was too big a pussy to do it“ James says, a smile curling in the upper corner of his lip. And naw … there was no ménage action goin’ on. The director throws up his hands flabbergasted, turning away as the smile is now plastered across James’ face.
“’cause I was the only one gettin’ any!”
---
“I believe there’s been a mistake. Mr. Hart was contracted with Disney and its subsidiary, ESPN. I see the cheques go into the mail every two weeks.”
The law offices of Samuel E. Stein are as immaculate as ever: that is to say that James Hart has not been seen in them since the last time the cleaning crew arrived. Biting his left thumb-nail, Stein listens intently to the caller on the other end – unmoved by what they are saying. “I appreciate your predicament …” he says before pausing momentarily, evidently interrupted by the caller, a vein popping out from his right temple. “I wrote the original contract. I don’t need to review the terms.”
Frustration evident in his demeanor, Stein begins to fidget with his ball-point pen. The heavy weighted back-end rocking back and forth between his thumb and forefinger. “Yes, I understand that he was obligated to appear on each Code Red Wrestling broadcast but that doesn’t absolve the fact he is contracted with Disney, who effectively sub-contracted him out to Code Red Wrestling” Stein continues, his disposition on a steady path towards tectonic catastrophe.
“You’re trying to tell me that even though Wilkinson gave …” he carries on before being interrupted once more, setting off the volcanic eruption. “Fuck it! I’ll review the contract damnit but we’ll be sure to send you a bill for our time doing it and putting up with this shit.”
Slamming his phone against the desk he reaches into the second drawer on the left and pulls out a bottle and a small tumbler. “Code Red Wrestling … what a load of shit. Wilkinson gave up on it three years ago when he was on top of the world. He’s not stupid enough to get back into this” he comments to himself as he pours a double shot into the glass. Tucking the bottle away, he reaches into the drawer below and pulls out a medium sized document and purposefully turns to a specific page. Taking a sip from the glass he scans the page before flipping to the next. As he continues on, though the warmth from the golden liquid should bring color to his cheeks, instead they have turned a pale white as his eyes quickly dart back to the top before scanning once more.
“Fuck!” he exclaims loudly before setting the glass and the document down. Grabbing his phone once more, expertly mashing at the buttons on the touchscreen, he reads the document for a third time quickly before he is answered on the other line. “Yes … we need to get James here as early as possible.”
“I know …. I know. I get it he’s busy but this is important.”
“Yes, I understand …”
“Yes, we should probably raise it to Code: Nuke. He’s not going to be happy in the slightest.”
“Alright. Thanks.”
Hanging up the phone, this time setting it on his desk gently as he grabs the tumbler, Stein shakes his head as he runs his hands through the thinning hair on his head, a pained look on his face.
“Fuck!”
---
“No, I’m not interested in adding Jason Freeman to the roster.”
Rorey shakes his head as he sits behind his desk in his office, now a bit more furnished than before. He takes his cane and gently hits himself in the forehead with it out of frustration “Look, I appreciate the phone call but we’re …” he says before the caller on the other side interrupts him. He takes the phone away from his ear and lets out a sigh before brining it back to his ear, “I’m sorry but I've just got done traveling the country personally contacting the talent Code Red is interested in. I didn't come to you or your client. If I do, you'll understand.”
Rorey hangs up his cellphone and throws it onto his desk and rubs his face to relieve the stress. “Just...one...day. That's all I have to relax...” he comments before letting out a deep sigh. Tapping the pen on the desk absent-mindedly, his reverie is broken by a knock on the door.
“Courier” says a voice from the other side of the door. Rorey raises an eyebrow before grabbing his cane and lifting himself out of his chair. He walks to the door and opens the door..
“What the hell?” Rorey asks as he quickly sizes up the courier, small in stature with a bored expression on his face.
“I have a delivery for this office” he says flatly, extending a brown envelope towards Rory and then the small tracking computer. “If you can sign here accepting delivery …”
Rorey studies him for a moment before signing the touch screen and sending the courier on his way. "What did Talon send me?" he wonders allowed. Turning around, expertly kicking the door shut with his back heel, Rorey begins opening the folder and pulls out a single sheet of paper. “Disney Corporation ….” he comments as he takes a seat behind his desk once more, his eyes focused on the paper.
“Well … this will be interesting.”
---
“Da Fuck ya mean I gotta wrestle?”
The formerly immaculate offices of Samuel E. Stein now stand with papers littering the floor and Richard Parker III cleaning himself on the desk. “Could we at least move the Cat I …” Stein begins before being interrupted by James.
“Richard Parker III has a name and I’d watch ya mouth around him” James says before continuing in his best Muhammed Ali impression. ’cause he sting like a butterfly and floats like a bee.
Stein stares at James, his mouth slightly agape as Parker gives a subtle mew. “I believe the saying is ‘float like a butterfly, sting like a bee’” he says, the absence of a head shake a telling sign that on the list of things James has send and done over the years that it doesn’t rank particularly high.
“Man, I’m improvin’ on what that shaky dude said.” Hart replies before immediately changing the subject as Stein shakes his head this time. “I was thinking of throwing a pool party in Orlando in a couple weeks. We haven’t done that in a while? We can have fireworks and …”
“You haven’t had one in a while because of what happened last time” Stein replies, visions of the aftermath of the previous party and the mountains of paperwork that ensued, running through his head. “Besides, from the looks of it you’ll be having other things to do most weekends for the foreseeable future.”
“I’m not fuckin’ doin’ it.” James responds to Stein as he gets up off the desk and grabs Richard Parker III into his arms. “Figure a way out of this shit ‘cause I’m not doin’ it.
Watching James head to the door, Stein sighs underneath his breath. “What do you think I’ve been doing? It’s not going to be that simple. We wrote this contract to protect you initially and Disney insisted on …”
“I don’t need excuses. I need results.” James says cutting Stein off as he opens the door to the office. “I’m not doin’ it. End of story.”
James exits the office as Stein looks at him, then at the cell phone on his desk, then back at James as he stands waiting for the elevator to take him out of the office.