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Questions which require answers; Danno R 'n' R
Topic Started: Jan 29 2005, 11:24 PM (86 Views)
Brad
Unregistered

Disclaimer: I do understand the circumstances, I'm just pissed off and want to vent a little

The scene fades in, on Toby Bostock. He’s stood outside a locker room, and he looks fidgety and excited

TB: Are we on? Oh, OK.

He clears his throat

TB: Ladies and Gentlemen, it’s not often that Bradley Johnson is put into a scenario where we can sympathise with him, but this is definitely one of them. The TNT portion of the card for upcoming PPV Déjà vu has been announced, and Bradley Johnson’s shot at the Dual Crown Championship has been taken from him, and given to Jim O’Brien. Bradley Johnson’s position has been moved down the card to a Fatal Four Way, with Silent Rage, Swytch and Brighty, for the debuting Ultimate Endurance Championship. And now, I, Toby Bostock, TNT’s Number One announcer…

He grins, cheesily

TB: … am about to get his reaction.

He turns around, takes a deep breath, and knocks on the door. A couple of seconds pass, and Toby prepares to knock again, when The Purist opens his door. He’s got a smile on his face, which is incredibly surprising given the circumstances, and he comes out and shakes Toby’s hand

TB: Mr. Johnson, you seem to be in a good mood. Why?

Johnson: Why not, Toby? Déjà vu, February the sixth, 2005. Bradley Johnson versus Fozzy McQueen, Dual Crown Championship. Everything’s rosy, Toby kid.

A look of realisation dawns on Toby’s face, which quickly turns to pure fear, as he realises what news he has to break, and who he has to break it to

Johnson: What’s the matter Toby? You look like a goose just walked over your grave, kid. You’re not about to piss yourself in front of my locker room are you?

TB: Uh, you, ah, haven’t heard?

Johnson: Heard what?

TB: Um, well, you see…

Johnson: What have I not heard that I should have, Toby?

TB: Um…

Johnson: You say “um” again and I’m going to put my elbow in your face. Spit it out damn it.

TB: Jim O’Brien has the, ah, Dual Crown shot. You’re in a four-way with Swytch, er, Silent Rage and Brighty for the, ah Ultimate Endurance Championship.

There is no response from Johnson. He just stares, expressionless

TB: Uh, Mr. Johns…

Johnson: Tell me you’re lying.

TB: I wish I could, I honestly do. But the card’s right here.

He hands Johnson a piece of paper. Johnson takes it, and reads it. He reads it again, and again, and again, trying to make sense of what he’s reading. He then crumples the card up in his fist, sits down against the wall, and, looking at his feet, places his hands against his temples. He just sits there for a moment, breathing heavily, and the cameraman dares a look at his face. Unsurprisingly, it is a picture of abject rage and fury

TB: Uh, are you OK?

Johnson just stares at Toby, as if that’s the stupidest question he’s ever heard in his life. He takes a further moment to contemplate what he’s just discovered, before getting to his feet, and planting his elbow into Toby’s jaw. Toby drops to the ground, unconscious, and Johnson looks over to the camera, furious

Johnson: He’ll get over it. Come. You and I are going to get some answers.

He walks past the cameraman, who turns around and follows Johnson. The man himself is storming purposefully down the corridors, and the cameraman is struggling to keep up with the furious Purist. Occasionally we pass a few random staff members, who move out of the way, fully realising what Johnson’s just found out, and what he intends to do. We continue in this vein for a few more seconds before we reach the double doors of the office of TNT General Manager, Madison Lee. Not even bothering to knock, Johnson slams both doors open, and marches into the room. Before Madison can even look up from her paperwork, it’s scattered to one side, and there is one, crumpled up, piece of paper in it’s place

Johnson: Explain. Now.

Madison un-crumples the paper, and glances at it

Madison: Surely someone of your intelligence can recognise a Pay Per View card when you see one.

Johnson: Don’t even start being fucking funny. I am not in a joking mood.

Madison: Is something wrong?

Johnson: Are you playing games with me? Because I’m not in the mood for games. But, since you’re so stupid, I’m going to spell it out to you. Tuesday Night Throwdown, you make a match that makes me the number one contender for the Dual Crown Championship, at Déjà vu, providing I can beat Silent Rage. I do so, and Fozzy McQueen wins the Championship. Ergo, the main event of Déjà vu should be Bradley Johnson versus Fozzy McQueen for the Dual Crown Championship. No complications. My shot. You understand this part?

Madison: Of course.

Johnson: Evidently, you don’t understand this part. Because, on this card that I have placed upon your desk, it reads as follows. “Dual Crown Championship. Spirit Of Honour Rules. Fozzy McQueen, Champion, versus Jim O’Brien”. And, further down the card, it reads “Ultimate Endurance Championship. Weapons Legal Fatal Four Way. Silent Rage versus Swytch versus Bradley Johnson versus Brighty”. Now, this is the part that doesn’t make sense. On January the twenty-fifth, you promise me a shot at the Dual Crown Championship. Then, on January the twenty-ninth, you release a card that says that Jim O’Brien has my shot, and I’m in a match with three men who I couldn’t give two fucks about. And, not only that, but you do not inform me that I’m no longer fighting for the top prize in this industry. Instead, you leave that to whimpering Toby Bostock, who as we speak is lying in an unconscious heap in front of my locker room.

He pauses for breath

Johnson: So now, I’m going to ask some questions. And you are going to answer every single question I have to ask. So, question one – why have I been stripped of my shot at the Dual Crown Championship, in favour of Jim O’Brien? Question two – why am I in a match with three men who I honestly couldn’t give two fucks about? And, question three, the million pound question.

Madison: I’d prefer a million dollars.

Johnson: That’s because you’re stupid, and don’t know that a pound is worth more than a dollar. Now, as I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted. The million pound question. When do I get my Dual Crown Championship shot? The shot that I deserve. Now, you’re going to answer all three of these questions. Or I’ll rip all of that hair off your vain little head. Then, if you continue to refuse, I’ll rip your big, expensive, garish earrings through your earlobes. And then, I’ll take those sharp earrings, and I’ll make you regret all that vanity of yours. Your pretty little face won’t be nearly so pretty. So get answering, sweetheart. As if your life depends on it.

Reply as you see fit, Mr. Danno
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Lita Maivia
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((OOC: I'm not Dan but Madison is my character and as I said on MSN, I made the changes to the card, not Dan.))

Madison chuckles ever so slightly, only angering Brad even more than he already is.

Madison: Stupid? You have the nerve to say all that crap and then call me stupid?

Madison laughs harder now as she stands, grabbing the crumbled card in her hand. She whips the piece of paper into Brad's chest, abruptly stopping the laughter in exchange for a look of anger. She leans forward on the desk, getting directly into Brad's face, showing no fear.

Madison: Listen to me, you arrogant little nothing! The only stupid person I see in this room, is the one I'm looking at. I understand that you are in a profession that requires you to be beaten upside the skull on a regular basis. And the option to cut off all your hair does nothing to soften the blows. But I kindly reque… no. I demand that you maybe review the facts before trying to approach me and look smart.

Brad's rage begins to increase, as anyone's would in this situation. However, he opts to keep his mouth closed and see just what the hell Madison is trying to say. Madison pushes off the desk, standing upright before pacing back and forth in a care-free manner.

Madison: Let me take you back. Tuesday Night Throwdown. January 25, 2005. I announced that the tag team match would be split down the middle. Leaving Fozzy and Jim to battle out for the title. And also leaving you and Silent Rage for contendership. No where in my speechifying did I EVER say that you and Rage were fighting for the right to challenge at Deja Vu. You assumed and only proved the phrase true. When you assume, you make an ass out of you.

Madison walks over to a filing cabinet, pulling out the appropriate file. She tosses it onto her desk, in front of Brad.

Madison: I'm sure you're familiar with this. It's called a contract. And Jim O'Brien has one. And after he won the Dual Crown Championship at Vendetta, his contract was re-worked. As with all champions, they have a clause that states an immediate re-match when they lose their championship. Well, at least the ones that are smart enough to realize it's there. So therefore, Jim's contract overrides your current contendership. Don't get me wrong, you're still the number one contender, and you'll get your shot when I see fit. And with your current attitude... I'm not feeling too generous.

Madison watches Brad's reaction, finding nothing but anger in his stone-cold gaze. Madison shrugs and snatches the contract back up, shoving it into the filing cabinet before returning her attention to the number one contender.

Madison: What I would suggest, is an apology. Not that I expect one, but it would increase the chances of me ever liking you again. But I also suggest you turning yourself around, going back to your little church, and praying that you survive your Fatal Four-Way at Deja Vu. Because you're fighting for the newest championship, the Ultimate Endurance Championship. And it received it's name because it can only be won through submission or knock-out. Now, I understand all four men in this match think they should be fighting for the Dual Crown. But do you think any of them really want to lose this match? Or any match? I think not. Or, you know, I could just remove you from the match all together. I figured you'd want to be on the pay-per-view. Perhaps I was wrong?
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