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The Nature of Things; Prime
Topic Started: Mar 2 2009, 07:05 PM (58 Views)
Triadred
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Canada's Handsomest Boy
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Prime: Yea? Well we'll see about that!

Prime obviously retorts as he slams a door, putting himself out into a hallway. Having been leaning against the far wall, Smarty Smark shoves off and meets his championship Adonis and consequent cash-cow by the door where said cow is still fuming. Over what? If you read on you just may find out...

Prime: Morons! The whole God damn bunch of them!

Prime airs in effort to fume out loud. Sometimes it's best to just get something off of your chest. But like real estate, fuming is timeliest when it comes to three simple variables... location, location, location. And as we are in fact standing outside the office of one Reed G Keenan, as evident by the plaque on the door with his namesake inscribed, I'd say we're neither in the time or place for one to air their displeasure. Be that as it may...

Picking up stride with the champ as he begins to lumber down the hallway with that stormy cloud hanging over his head, Smarty is silent a moment. The air of the unknown, however, is a little too thick for his liking, and being a man of great curiosity, Smark damns all repercussions and dares ask.

Smark: So uh... how'd it go?

Prime halts. He rolls his head down to cast disgusted eyes upon Smark. If that doesn't answer Smarks question, I don't know what will! Prime then moves on with Smark trailing to catch up.

Smark: So the little twerp’s still the number one contender... big deal, right? I mean... you've put him down once already, so who's to say it won’t happen again?

Prime: That's not the point.

Prime responds. Smark recoils with his thoughts to perhaps get a better handle on from where Primes opinion resides.

Smark: Well then what is the point?

Is the obvious question. The tone with which it's delivered, however, doesn't smack of a concerned party, but more or less an annoyed party that wants to quell someone elses whining. Prime, being of judgmental enough mind to pick up on said tone, halts with a sigh. He turns to face his rotund super agent, and with much gesturing with his hands, unloads the great mystery that is the point.

Prime: The point is I shouldn't have to face his dumbass again, Smark, because you're right... I've beaten him already. To the point, I should add, where he was shelved for more than two months! So at the end of the day, what have we got?

Prime puts the question to Smark. Unfortunately, Smark draws a blank.

Prime: We've got a whole lot of hype heading into Anarchy with an inevitable squash as the main event. El Lumberjacko...

A name that's uttered with much disdain. If ever there was a thorn in Primes side, it's the Luchajack. The obvious choice would have been Xtreme Kitten, but this business is hardly ever about promoting the obvious... is it?

Prime: The resurrected victim on a mission, all piss and vinegar to right the so called wrongs. And then there's me... the bad ass bully on the block who's got a dose of what goes around comes around due. There's a lot of press in all that, Smark.

Prime admits with a shrug. Press indeed, but judging by the twinkle in Smarks eyes, he's not seeing the press... he's seeing the pay!

Prime: But that's all it is... press. Ratings. FIW and that meat head, Keenan, are trying to build ratings on my back! Ordinarily, I could give a flying fuck, but this time around...

Prime shakes his head. A sign of his discontent.

Prime: This time all the hype is going to fall flat on it's ass because we're going to have an anticipated Dual Crown match turn into a thirty second squash. I can already see it... Jacko's all revved up and bounding in his corner while wearing that stupid fucking mask, and there I am in mine... cool and calm as can be because I know what's about to happen. Sound of the bell. Jack darts in like an over-anxious idiot and runs right into my right hand here.

Prime bounces his balled right hand in plain sight.

Prime: Dazed, Jack falls right into a set up, and then one Authority Bomb later, still the Dual Crown champion and still undefeated when it comes to Jacko... me.

He says with much confidence while thumbing his chest. Smark nods his head, soaking in all that could be, and will be according to Prime.

Prime: It's so pathetic, it's almost insulting!

The champ so confidently observes. Indeed, one could feel slighted if one is as arrogant as our Dual Crown champion. And proudly so! Stroking his chin a moment, Smark finally draws a cueing breath, which alerts Prime to his forthcoming response.

Smark: Call it what you will, champ, but this vision of yours rests on one simple yet extremely complicated thing right now.

Prime cocks a brow. Enough to ask the question without asking the question. As simply as Smark can put things, yet while carrying with him an air of mystery of his own, Smark smirks and takes the champ down a peg... in your eyes and mine anyways. Not Primes.

Smark: All I can say is good luck this week, champ.

With a chuckle, as Smark is certainly the type to relish is having the last word, the super agent leaves Prime behind. Mulling over his words, the sudden electric snap of concern bursts the champs eyes open and sees Prime, in a classic role reversal, trail after Smark with but a simple question stuttering from his dumb-founded lips.

Prime: What do you mean, good luck this week? Smark..? Smark..?!
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