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Presents and Well Wishes
Topic Started: Mar 6 2005, 10:20 AM (52 Views)
Samoan
Unregistered

The GM's office. It's a great place, full of all the perks of being GM. State of the art laptop computer, sterling silver pens, and of course the full massage leather chair. Madison huffs as she looks over a few documents. She drops them down onto her desk, lifts her steaming cup of coffee and leans back into her chair, she brings the cup to her lips then stops. Madison's face scrunches slightly as she sniffs the cup for any foreign liquids, something flammable maybe, like gas. Satisfied that it's her usual hazel nut roast, she takes a full sip.

The caffeinated goodness barely reaches the back of her tongue before she spits it out as her door BURSTS open. It slams into the wall, ricocheting back into the perpetrator's hand for them to push open again, violently.


Swytch: Hello, Madison.

Madison: Thank you for knocking... and wasting my coffee.

Swytch walks toward the desk. He pulls a chair out, oddly choosing to take a seat in it instead of standing like usual. Madison notices something in the doorway. A trail leading from the hall into her office and stopping, she assumes, at Swytch's seat. He notices her eyes following the crimson droplets leading to the object he carried in. He lifts the object, dropping it on Madison's desk. A red splatter covers the GM's desk and most of the paperwork present.

Madison: And what's this?

Swytch: A present, MADison.

Madison's eyes travel over the dirty burlap sack. The crimson fluid flowing from the bottom of the bag all over her desk. She manages a gulp...

Madison: What kind of present?

Swytch grins widely, leaning forward and pulling the top of the bag open. He reaches in with his gloved hand, pushes around inside the bag, an odd combination of a squishing and clanking crawls out of the bag's opening. Swytch begins to slowly pull his hand out of the bag, his forearm covered in a red goo. As he continues removing his hand, his wrist and hand are also covered in good, then...


CLANG

Madison jumps a little, mostly to avoid getting splattered with any of the messy redness. She looks down at her desk, a faint gold shimmer gleaming back at her from behind the red glaze.

Madison: That's gonna cost you.

Swytch giggles his trademark insane laughter.

Swytch: A small pleasure well worth the price, MADison.

Swytch jerks to his feet. He places his hands on Madison's desk, leaning forward. His chest pushes the top of the bag down as his face inches closer to Madison's.

Swytch: I don't want your...title...MADison. As long as I have that *Swytch's eyes glance down to the broken face plate of the Ultimate Endurance Championship* I'm not going to get what's rightfully mine.

Madison's eyes narrow. Feeling a fair bit confident with the large desk between herself and Swytch, her tongue finds it's courage.

Madison: And as long as I'm General Manager of TNT, you won't EVER see the Dual Crown except from a distance.

Swytch cocks his head, grinning madly at Madison. He leans back to a full vertical position then turns and walks back to the door. Pulling it open, he stops and turns back to Madison standing there.

Swytch: I bring a message to you as well. Tier sends his regards. He's in the building.

Swytch's grin remains as he gives Madison one last look. The confidence drains from her face as Swytch steps through the threshold out into the bright hallway lights, closing the door behind him.
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