Post by Stuart Slane on May 29, 2016 16:35:44 GMT -5
Too Many Subplots
Part One: Saving the Children
May 24, 2016
Camp Slane
Some desert in Mexico
During Math Class’s Lesson Hook
(This segment is translated from its original Spanish)
“Is it possible to have less than nothing?” Stuart Slane asked as he took a chunk of chalk and drew a zero on the blackboard easel that, besides the desk chairs Slane had built himself, was the only piece of furniture present in the makeshift classroom (really a 20’x30’ canopy tent bearing the Wrestling Championship Federation logo).
The question was posed to the seventeen children who chose to remain part of his “community”. There was a time that their number was nearly double, but that was when it was the rule that once you had been brought in it was forbidden to leave. Since his return to the WCF Slane had promised to try and be good; and many of the old ways of the camp had been changed.
A boy raised his hand to answer, “No.”
“Explain your reasoning, Arturo,” Stuart said in an attempt to make the boy justify his statement.
“Nothing is… nothing. It’s not having anything. That is it.”
Another child’s hand shot up. Stuart called on her.
“Yes, Martina?”
“You can have less than nothing. For example, when you owe someone money.”
Slane nodded before posing another question to the class, “Who thinks Arturo is right?”
A few hands shot up.
“Who thinks Martina is right?”
About twice as many children agreed with Martina, who had a better track record with her answers than the boy.
“The truth is both of them are correct. There can’t be less than nothing. I can’t show you fewer than zero goats. There are either goats or there are not. However, I can assign a value that represents a number that is less than zero by doing this.”
Slane wiped the board clean and drew the number one. Then he put a minus sign before it.
“This is called a negative number or integer. It is used when you need to symbolize an amount that is less than nothing. Now, can anyone think of instances where you would need to use a negative integer other than showing when you owe someone money?” Slane asked, moving on to the Demonstrating Prior knowledge component of the lesson.
Pedro, the burgeoning teacher’s pet, asked to be called on, “When you… owe someone… something besides money?”
“Alright. When else? When else can be say something’s value is less than nothing?”
The lesson is approaching the Guided Practice stage. This is also where things start to become match relevant.
“How about the WCF World Title?” Slane wondered aloud.
The students thought about the question. Finally Martina raised her hand again.
“The WCF World Title has value, because everyone still wants to have it.”
“An excellent point.”
“But people want the belt because they think if they win it they will give it value,” an older boy named Roberto spoke up, “It is the champion that makes the title matter, not the other way around. Logan and the Family made the title worthless by how he won it. He waited until Joey Flash was at his weakest to use the title shot he earned by winning the Final Destination match.”
“But but but that was not against the rules!” the camp scam artist Lolitha objected.
“That doesn’t mean it was the right thing to do!” Roberto shot back. The students instinctively flinched. Seventeen sets of eyes shifted their focus to the classroom’s instructor, as the children waited to hear what his response would be.
Stuart Slane gave a contrite smile, “Rules are rules. Logan certainly had every right win his World Title the way he did. However, there are consequences for adhering to the rules just as there are for breaking them. Just because Logan could become Champion that way doesn’t mean he should have. In many people’s opinion, including my own, the WCF Title has lost its value recently.”
He put a 1 in front of the negative symbol he had written before, and an equal sign after both numbers. Then he solved the equation by drawing a big “ought”. Then he erased the board.
“Now, if we are to presume the WCF Championship was made worthless in how it was won, what are ways it can become less than worthless?”
“The two top contenders for the belt being fired from the company! Assuming they were really fired who really knows what the Mexico Incident is yet.”
Another student offered a suggestion, “Seth Lerch being the referee when Logan defended the title against Oblivion at Slam.”
“Good, good. Let’s assume those challengers are positives,” Stuart wrote a zero and three ones after it, with each one given a positive symbol, “How can I show mathematically that the title is now valued at less than nothing?”
“By subtracting,” Marta observed.
Slane did just that, putting subtraction signs in front of the addition ones. He then drew an “equals” sign and added a negative three after it. Then he erased all the positive and negative symbols.
“But there is another way to look at the challengers, correct? We can also say, despite their general antisocial behaviors the loss of both Joey Flash and Jared Holmes were both negatives. And we can also say while Oblivion getting to compete for the title was a good thing, having to do so with Seth Lerch as referee was not,” he now put minus signs next to all the ones, “Now how to I compute the value of the WCF title?”
There was a pause. Finally a previously unheard from student raised her hand, “By… adding the negatives?”
“Very good, Ana Lucia. Yes, adding negatives is the same as subtracting positives,” a fact Stuart displayed with his ciphering. He then erased the board of everything, and then rewrote the value negative three, “Now, we have seen that numbers can have less than zero value and have demonstrated the methods it can be calculated. But what about the reverse? How do you take something that is less than nothing and restore it?”
“By adding!” several students blurted out.
“Good. And?”
Roberto used deductive reasoning to predict what answer Slane was looking for, “By subtracting negatives!”
“Excellent. That’s right. Adding positive numbers is the same arithmetically as subtracting negatives. Give me some hypothetical positives that could happen to help restore the value of the WCF Title.”
“Logan defending it honorably,” Lolitha said. Several children twittered at the very thought until a stern look from their teacher chastened them.
“What else?” he asked after using the chalk to make two positive symbols and a one.
“The WCF Classic Tournament. That is a positive because it is allowing other wrestlers to compete for the right to win the belt,” a boy, Jesus, replied.
Two more plus signs followed by the digit that represented a singularity. Martina made another observation.
“But couldn’t the WCF Classic also be an example of subtracting a negative? The losers in the tournament are no longer eligible to be champion, but they shouldn’t be, because by not winning their matches they proved they’re not worthy.”
“I suppose that is another way to look at it, though I am reluctant to assign negative value to competitors like Steven Orbit, Gemini Battle, and Teo Del Sol,” for the sake of his analogy Stuart did so anyway, putting two negatives and the number one on the board, “Can anyone give me another example of addition through subtraction in relation to the WCF Classic?”
“Seth Lerch,” Ana Lucia said dourly, “He needs to stop fixing things in ways that help his Family.”
“I’ll allow it,” Stuart said, and updated the blackboard so that the final equation looked like this:
-3 +(+1)+(+1)-(-1)-(-1)= ?
Then, with a hint of dramatic flourish, he turned to his students and pointed the piece of chalk at them, “Now, assuming these circumstances play out, what can we say the value of the WCF World Championship will become?”
Several children blurted out an answer:
“Negative seven!”
Slane’s confident grin vanished, “What? No.”
“Seven?” Martina tried again.
The self-taught math instructor shook his head, “No. How are you getting- the answer is one. As in back to square one.”
“Confusion reigned in the classroom, “I don’t understand,” Lolith declared.
“How is the answer one?” Roberto wondered.
“Because when you add a positive to a negative, its value increases, meaning the number becomes smaller until it reaches zero, and then it turns around and turns positive.”
The explanation was met with blank stares.
“If you look on at it on the number line-“
“What’s a number line?” an especially brazen child interrupted Stuart as he explained. For a moment the big man was angry, but then he realized his mistake; he had never gone over what a number line was. And without that information, there was no real way for the children to solve the problem. He was the one who was failing this lesson, not them.
Shoulders slumped, Slane pocketed the chalk, “Go put up you notebooks. Then fill your canteens. We’ll be starting our botany field assignment next.”
The students shuffled out of the tent. Most looked as crestfallen as their leader; thinking they were the cause of his change in mood.
Slane followed his charges towards the water pump set in the middle of the compound. He watched silently as the children took turns working the handle to draw up their own liquid rations. Occasionally one of them would sneak a look at the big man to gauge his mood. He’d respond with an encouraging smile, which would be returned in kind, but the tension still remained. All of the boys and girls present had been part of the camp during “The Bad Old Days”, when Slane had hidden his face behind a mask and the rules for their community were far more draconian. They had seen Slane at his worst, and there was always that lingering fear he would return to that form.
If Slane wasn’t so wrapped up in his own doubts he might have been aware of the children’s concern. Though empathy was never the former Scoutmaster’s strong suit. He was always more of a ‘molder of men’ than ‘leader’; provided the identity being crafted was one that met his precise standards.
The group’s oblivious reverie was interrupted by the “whup whup whup” sound of an approaching helicopter. Slane cast his eyes westward, and he immediately spotted the approaching vehicle. He removed a small pair of binoculars to better identify who was coming their way. They were located hundreds of miles from the nearest town, and other than a set of nearby train tracks there was no reason for anyone to be out here unless their destination was the camp itself.
“Should we go to Plan NVL, Boss?” Pepito, Slane’s second in command asked.
“No, Pepito. Our guest is not hostile,” Stuart assured him after learning who was about to pay Camp Slane a visit, “Go to my tent, please, and get the “Pig Status Reports” binder. Miss Cicero is here to check on her charges.”
Part Two: Saving the Swine
Same Day
Same Place
Circe Cicero was one of the few people who knew not only of Camp Slane’s existence, but also its location. As the only sponsor of the site, she had demanded to see it for herself; not only for the money she put into it but because she had ‘children’ there as well.
“Gerald’s looking a little peaked,” the trim young woman in the dappled sun dress said as she leaned against the fence that surrounded the camp’s pig pen, “Are you sure he’s healthy?”
“Yes. The worms are gone.”
“Are you 100% certain?” she asked again.
Stuart stared dourly at her, “He’s clean. You can check his stool yourself if you wish.”
“Oh, Mister Slane; the way you say that makes it sound like you think it would dissuade me,” she smiled, her short pug nose wrinkling with mirth, “When you should know there is nothing I would not do for these pigs. For any pig.”
Slane was aware. Circe Cicero was a true believer. As president (and apparently sole member) of People for the Ethical Treatment of Swine, she had harried WCF multiple times in regards to what she perceived as the company’s ‘anti-Sus’ bias. Slane also knew that, despite her zeal in the defense of swine rights, she would not make an unscheduled appearance to the camp unless she had good reason, “But you didn’t come all this way to talk about Gerald’s lack of parasites.”
“No,” Circe agreed as she slipped off her sunglasses and hooked them to the dress’s décolletage, “I came here to get your help with an emancipation.”
‘Emancipation’ was the term Circe used when she illegally acquired a ward that she claimed suffered through untenable living conditions. Half the hogs mulling in the mud before the pair were ‘emancipated’.
“We’re been through this before, Miss Cicero; I’m not going to help you steal a pig,” Slane told her.
“It’s Percy Micro II.”
Stuart was not surprised, “I thought that was the likely candidate. My decision remains unchanged.”
“It’s going to happen again; that poor little pig is going to get killed by whoever it is pulling Brent Alpine’s strings. It’ll die just for some cheap heat. Do you want that on your conscience?” the woman demanded to know.
“There is no proof that the fate of the first Percy Micro will befall the second,” Slane noted calmly.
“We know who is the mastermind behind Alpine’s coterie of helpmates: Dr. Remus Micayle! One of the most evil men to ever compete in WCF.”
“Again; there’s no evidence. And, to be perfectly blunt, Miss Cicero, even if there was, I will not take part in any shenanigans that might upset Mister Alpine.”
Circe gave a loud snort of derision, “Why, because you’re afraid of him?”
“No. Because I’m facing him this Sunday at Slam. My reputation is already tarnished enough. I do not need to give my enemies ammunition to use against me. And abducting the mascot of an already psychologically fragile Brent Alpine could certainly be construed as an attempt to play mind games with him.”
“So you’re more worried about what people think of you than doing what’s right? Some face you are,” she shot back. She tilted the brim of her breezer hat up to match glares with him.
Stuart’s right eyelid fluttered briefly, “Miss Cicero, the matter is closed.”
“I’ll pay you double what I do now.”
“No.”
“Triple,” she tried again. Slane noticed the young blonde’s eyes began to water.
“Miss Cicero-“
“He’s going to do it again! Micayle’s going to slaughter Percy to show how evil he is and no one in the WCF Galaxy except me is going to care! He’ll murder an innocent animal and get away with it!” she shouted, tears now forming and running down her flushed full cheeks.
“Miss Cicero, you need to get a hold of yourself,” Slane said, clearly uncomfortable at the woman’s crying.
“Why? Does it upset you to see someone care about something enough that they actually dare show their feelings about it?! You emotionally retarded fuckwit! You say Brent Alpine is fragile, but you’re the same way. I watched that Heenan woman shit all over your entire face turn last week, and besides a few twitches-“
Circe exaggeratedly imitated Slane’s tics and spasms from his performance on WCF.com’s interview show ‘Facts and Figure’.
“- you didn’t do jack! Just like now. You have the chance to do that right thing and screw over a man you know who’s bad, a man that is standing in your way of the greatest prize in all of professional wrestling, and you choose to do nothing!! You’re a goddamned disappointment, Stuart Slane; I hope Brent Alpine kicks your ass Sunday.
This was the second time in as many weeks where a woman had lambasted Stuart Slane for his lack of character. It was starting to take a toll on him. Taking hold of Circe by the shoulders, he pulled her closer to him and hissed.
“You ridiculous little woman! You’re questioning my values? Worse, you’re questioning my ability to beat that oversized man-child Brent Alpine clean? I’m going to destroy that fool Sunday. The luminescence of ‘The Shine’ will be permanently dimmed. He’s going to be squealing like one of your cloven hooved dependents when I get him in the middle of the ring and Knot him Up.”
Circe was shocked more by the ‘hate speech’ from Slane than being grabbed by him. She wiggled free from his hold and stepped back.
“So, that’s it, then?” she asked the big man.
“Well, I had more planned, but this is the consequence of waiting until the last minute to put together a promo. ‘Too Many Subplots’ becomes just ‘Two Subplots’,” Stuart said impetuously as he folded his arms across his chest.
Long pause as the two redirect their attentions away from each other and towards nothing in particular.
“Then we have nothing more to discuss. Do you wish to reconsider our current relationship?”
“I’ll continue to host your wayward pigs if that’s what you’re asking.”
“What else would I be asking about?” Circe demanded to know.
“What? Nothing.”
“Of course not,” the woman turned on her heel and stomped back to where the helicopter and its pilot both idled, “I hope you aren’t too embarrassed Sunday,” she called back to Stuart before boarding the chopper.
He would be, though; no matter the outcome.
Part One: Saving the Children
May 24, 2016
Camp Slane
Some desert in Mexico
During Math Class’s Lesson Hook
(This segment is translated from its original Spanish)
“Is it possible to have less than nothing?” Stuart Slane asked as he took a chunk of chalk and drew a zero on the blackboard easel that, besides the desk chairs Slane had built himself, was the only piece of furniture present in the makeshift classroom (really a 20’x30’ canopy tent bearing the Wrestling Championship Federation logo).
The question was posed to the seventeen children who chose to remain part of his “community”. There was a time that their number was nearly double, but that was when it was the rule that once you had been brought in it was forbidden to leave. Since his return to the WCF Slane had promised to try and be good; and many of the old ways of the camp had been changed.
A boy raised his hand to answer, “No.”
“Explain your reasoning, Arturo,” Stuart said in an attempt to make the boy justify his statement.
“Nothing is… nothing. It’s not having anything. That is it.”
Another child’s hand shot up. Stuart called on her.
“Yes, Martina?”
“You can have less than nothing. For example, when you owe someone money.”
Slane nodded before posing another question to the class, “Who thinks Arturo is right?”
A few hands shot up.
“Who thinks Martina is right?”
About twice as many children agreed with Martina, who had a better track record with her answers than the boy.
“The truth is both of them are correct. There can’t be less than nothing. I can’t show you fewer than zero goats. There are either goats or there are not. However, I can assign a value that represents a number that is less than zero by doing this.”
Slane wiped the board clean and drew the number one. Then he put a minus sign before it.
“This is called a negative number or integer. It is used when you need to symbolize an amount that is less than nothing. Now, can anyone think of instances where you would need to use a negative integer other than showing when you owe someone money?” Slane asked, moving on to the Demonstrating Prior knowledge component of the lesson.
Pedro, the burgeoning teacher’s pet, asked to be called on, “When you… owe someone… something besides money?”
“Alright. When else? When else can be say something’s value is less than nothing?”
The lesson is approaching the Guided Practice stage. This is also where things start to become match relevant.
“How about the WCF World Title?” Slane wondered aloud.
The students thought about the question. Finally Martina raised her hand again.
“The WCF World Title has value, because everyone still wants to have it.”
“An excellent point.”
“But people want the belt because they think if they win it they will give it value,” an older boy named Roberto spoke up, “It is the champion that makes the title matter, not the other way around. Logan and the Family made the title worthless by how he won it. He waited until Joey Flash was at his weakest to use the title shot he earned by winning the Final Destination match.”
“But but but that was not against the rules!” the camp scam artist Lolitha objected.
“That doesn’t mean it was the right thing to do!” Roberto shot back. The students instinctively flinched. Seventeen sets of eyes shifted their focus to the classroom’s instructor, as the children waited to hear what his response would be.
Stuart Slane gave a contrite smile, “Rules are rules. Logan certainly had every right win his World Title the way he did. However, there are consequences for adhering to the rules just as there are for breaking them. Just because Logan could become Champion that way doesn’t mean he should have. In many people’s opinion, including my own, the WCF Title has lost its value recently.”
He put a 1 in front of the negative symbol he had written before, and an equal sign after both numbers. Then he solved the equation by drawing a big “ought”. Then he erased the board.
“Now, if we are to presume the WCF Championship was made worthless in how it was won, what are ways it can become less than worthless?”
“The two top contenders for the belt being fired from the company! Assuming they were really fired who really knows what the Mexico Incident is yet.”
Another student offered a suggestion, “Seth Lerch being the referee when Logan defended the title against Oblivion at Slam.”
“Good, good. Let’s assume those challengers are positives,” Stuart wrote a zero and three ones after it, with each one given a positive symbol, “How can I show mathematically that the title is now valued at less than nothing?”
“By subtracting,” Marta observed.
Slane did just that, putting subtraction signs in front of the addition ones. He then drew an “equals” sign and added a negative three after it. Then he erased all the positive and negative symbols.
“But there is another way to look at the challengers, correct? We can also say, despite their general antisocial behaviors the loss of both Joey Flash and Jared Holmes were both negatives. And we can also say while Oblivion getting to compete for the title was a good thing, having to do so with Seth Lerch as referee was not,” he now put minus signs next to all the ones, “Now how to I compute the value of the WCF title?”
There was a pause. Finally a previously unheard from student raised her hand, “By… adding the negatives?”
“Very good, Ana Lucia. Yes, adding negatives is the same as subtracting positives,” a fact Stuart displayed with his ciphering. He then erased the board of everything, and then rewrote the value negative three, “Now, we have seen that numbers can have less than zero value and have demonstrated the methods it can be calculated. But what about the reverse? How do you take something that is less than nothing and restore it?”
“By adding!” several students blurted out.
“Good. And?”
Roberto used deductive reasoning to predict what answer Slane was looking for, “By subtracting negatives!”
“Excellent. That’s right. Adding positive numbers is the same arithmetically as subtracting negatives. Give me some hypothetical positives that could happen to help restore the value of the WCF Title.”
“Logan defending it honorably,” Lolitha said. Several children twittered at the very thought until a stern look from their teacher chastened them.
“What else?” he asked after using the chalk to make two positive symbols and a one.
“The WCF Classic Tournament. That is a positive because it is allowing other wrestlers to compete for the right to win the belt,” a boy, Jesus, replied.
Two more plus signs followed by the digit that represented a singularity. Martina made another observation.
“But couldn’t the WCF Classic also be an example of subtracting a negative? The losers in the tournament are no longer eligible to be champion, but they shouldn’t be, because by not winning their matches they proved they’re not worthy.”
“I suppose that is another way to look at it, though I am reluctant to assign negative value to competitors like Steven Orbit, Gemini Battle, and Teo Del Sol,” for the sake of his analogy Stuart did so anyway, putting two negatives and the number one on the board, “Can anyone give me another example of addition through subtraction in relation to the WCF Classic?”
“Seth Lerch,” Ana Lucia said dourly, “He needs to stop fixing things in ways that help his Family.”
“I’ll allow it,” Stuart said, and updated the blackboard so that the final equation looked like this:
-3 +(+1)+(+1)-(-1)-(-1)= ?
Then, with a hint of dramatic flourish, he turned to his students and pointed the piece of chalk at them, “Now, assuming these circumstances play out, what can we say the value of the WCF World Championship will become?”
Several children blurted out an answer:
“Negative seven!”
Slane’s confident grin vanished, “What? No.”
“Seven?” Martina tried again.
The self-taught math instructor shook his head, “No. How are you getting- the answer is one. As in back to square one.”
“Confusion reigned in the classroom, “I don’t understand,” Lolith declared.
“How is the answer one?” Roberto wondered.
“Because when you add a positive to a negative, its value increases, meaning the number becomes smaller until it reaches zero, and then it turns around and turns positive.”
The explanation was met with blank stares.
“If you look on at it on the number line-“
“What’s a number line?” an especially brazen child interrupted Stuart as he explained. For a moment the big man was angry, but then he realized his mistake; he had never gone over what a number line was. And without that information, there was no real way for the children to solve the problem. He was the one who was failing this lesson, not them.
Shoulders slumped, Slane pocketed the chalk, “Go put up you notebooks. Then fill your canteens. We’ll be starting our botany field assignment next.”
The students shuffled out of the tent. Most looked as crestfallen as their leader; thinking they were the cause of his change in mood.
Slane followed his charges towards the water pump set in the middle of the compound. He watched silently as the children took turns working the handle to draw up their own liquid rations. Occasionally one of them would sneak a look at the big man to gauge his mood. He’d respond with an encouraging smile, which would be returned in kind, but the tension still remained. All of the boys and girls present had been part of the camp during “The Bad Old Days”, when Slane had hidden his face behind a mask and the rules for their community were far more draconian. They had seen Slane at his worst, and there was always that lingering fear he would return to that form.
If Slane wasn’t so wrapped up in his own doubts he might have been aware of the children’s concern. Though empathy was never the former Scoutmaster’s strong suit. He was always more of a ‘molder of men’ than ‘leader’; provided the identity being crafted was one that met his precise standards.
The group’s oblivious reverie was interrupted by the “whup whup whup” sound of an approaching helicopter. Slane cast his eyes westward, and he immediately spotted the approaching vehicle. He removed a small pair of binoculars to better identify who was coming their way. They were located hundreds of miles from the nearest town, and other than a set of nearby train tracks there was no reason for anyone to be out here unless their destination was the camp itself.
“Should we go to Plan NVL, Boss?” Pepito, Slane’s second in command asked.
“No, Pepito. Our guest is not hostile,” Stuart assured him after learning who was about to pay Camp Slane a visit, “Go to my tent, please, and get the “Pig Status Reports” binder. Miss Cicero is here to check on her charges.”
Part Two: Saving the Swine
Same Day
Same Place
Circe Cicero was one of the few people who knew not only of Camp Slane’s existence, but also its location. As the only sponsor of the site, she had demanded to see it for herself; not only for the money she put into it but because she had ‘children’ there as well.
“Gerald’s looking a little peaked,” the trim young woman in the dappled sun dress said as she leaned against the fence that surrounded the camp’s pig pen, “Are you sure he’s healthy?”
“Yes. The worms are gone.”
“Are you 100% certain?” she asked again.
Stuart stared dourly at her, “He’s clean. You can check his stool yourself if you wish.”
“Oh, Mister Slane; the way you say that makes it sound like you think it would dissuade me,” she smiled, her short pug nose wrinkling with mirth, “When you should know there is nothing I would not do for these pigs. For any pig.”
Slane was aware. Circe Cicero was a true believer. As president (and apparently sole member) of People for the Ethical Treatment of Swine, she had harried WCF multiple times in regards to what she perceived as the company’s ‘anti-Sus’ bias. Slane also knew that, despite her zeal in the defense of swine rights, she would not make an unscheduled appearance to the camp unless she had good reason, “But you didn’t come all this way to talk about Gerald’s lack of parasites.”
“No,” Circe agreed as she slipped off her sunglasses and hooked them to the dress’s décolletage, “I came here to get your help with an emancipation.”
‘Emancipation’ was the term Circe used when she illegally acquired a ward that she claimed suffered through untenable living conditions. Half the hogs mulling in the mud before the pair were ‘emancipated’.
“We’re been through this before, Miss Cicero; I’m not going to help you steal a pig,” Slane told her.
“It’s Percy Micro II.”
Stuart was not surprised, “I thought that was the likely candidate. My decision remains unchanged.”
“It’s going to happen again; that poor little pig is going to get killed by whoever it is pulling Brent Alpine’s strings. It’ll die just for some cheap heat. Do you want that on your conscience?” the woman demanded to know.
“There is no proof that the fate of the first Percy Micro will befall the second,” Slane noted calmly.
“We know who is the mastermind behind Alpine’s coterie of helpmates: Dr. Remus Micayle! One of the most evil men to ever compete in WCF.”
“Again; there’s no evidence. And, to be perfectly blunt, Miss Cicero, even if there was, I will not take part in any shenanigans that might upset Mister Alpine.”
Circe gave a loud snort of derision, “Why, because you’re afraid of him?”
“No. Because I’m facing him this Sunday at Slam. My reputation is already tarnished enough. I do not need to give my enemies ammunition to use against me. And abducting the mascot of an already psychologically fragile Brent Alpine could certainly be construed as an attempt to play mind games with him.”
“So you’re more worried about what people think of you than doing what’s right? Some face you are,” she shot back. She tilted the brim of her breezer hat up to match glares with him.
Stuart’s right eyelid fluttered briefly, “Miss Cicero, the matter is closed.”
“I’ll pay you double what I do now.”
“No.”
“Triple,” she tried again. Slane noticed the young blonde’s eyes began to water.
“Miss Cicero-“
“He’s going to do it again! Micayle’s going to slaughter Percy to show how evil he is and no one in the WCF Galaxy except me is going to care! He’ll murder an innocent animal and get away with it!” she shouted, tears now forming and running down her flushed full cheeks.
“Miss Cicero, you need to get a hold of yourself,” Slane said, clearly uncomfortable at the woman’s crying.
“Why? Does it upset you to see someone care about something enough that they actually dare show their feelings about it?! You emotionally retarded fuckwit! You say Brent Alpine is fragile, but you’re the same way. I watched that Heenan woman shit all over your entire face turn last week, and besides a few twitches-“
Circe exaggeratedly imitated Slane’s tics and spasms from his performance on WCF.com’s interview show ‘Facts and Figure’.
“- you didn’t do jack! Just like now. You have the chance to do that right thing and screw over a man you know who’s bad, a man that is standing in your way of the greatest prize in all of professional wrestling, and you choose to do nothing!! You’re a goddamned disappointment, Stuart Slane; I hope Brent Alpine kicks your ass Sunday.
This was the second time in as many weeks where a woman had lambasted Stuart Slane for his lack of character. It was starting to take a toll on him. Taking hold of Circe by the shoulders, he pulled her closer to him and hissed.
“You ridiculous little woman! You’re questioning my values? Worse, you’re questioning my ability to beat that oversized man-child Brent Alpine clean? I’m going to destroy that fool Sunday. The luminescence of ‘The Shine’ will be permanently dimmed. He’s going to be squealing like one of your cloven hooved dependents when I get him in the middle of the ring and Knot him Up.”
Circe was shocked more by the ‘hate speech’ from Slane than being grabbed by him. She wiggled free from his hold and stepped back.
“So, that’s it, then?” she asked the big man.
“Well, I had more planned, but this is the consequence of waiting until the last minute to put together a promo. ‘Too Many Subplots’ becomes just ‘Two Subplots’,” Stuart said impetuously as he folded his arms across his chest.
Long pause as the two redirect their attentions away from each other and towards nothing in particular.
“Then we have nothing more to discuss. Do you wish to reconsider our current relationship?”
“I’ll continue to host your wayward pigs if that’s what you’re asking.”
“What else would I be asking about?” Circe demanded to know.
“What? Nothing.”
“Of course not,” the woman turned on her heel and stomped back to where the helicopter and its pilot both idled, “I hope you aren’t too embarrassed Sunday,” she called back to Stuart before boarding the chopper.
He would be, though; no matter the outcome.