Post by Abraxas McKnight on Apr 29, 2018 15:08:57 GMT -5
April 28th, 2018
Cramlin,Dublin: Home of Abraxas McKnight
Time: 1:37 A.M.
The lights of the dark wooden home in Cramlin were dull in the view of the camera as we can see two cars parked in it's driveway. The building was two stories, and seemed to be in good shape as the camera begins to climb up the steps. The door opens to see the form of a young raven black haired woman open the door. She allows the camera by her as the sound of a voice rolls through from a distance down the hall.
"Is it another unexpected guest Joy?"
"Yeah babe, I think it's some camera man here for the same reason."
"Well, tell the fucking bastard to get his ass in here if he wants to tape something. I ain't got the time for this."
The camera man seems to pause for a moment before walking past the woman called Joy. He walks down the long dark corridor of the hallway to open the door that the voice seemed to be behind. The cracking sound of the fireplace picked up to the camera as it adjusts to the change of lighting. The desk rolling in the color of two red and blue lava lamps as the figure of a man, sitting in nothing more than a pair of shorts and tank top looks up at him.
"Well, hello there. Another one of the World Championship Federation's finest right? You already sent these other boys and you gotta make sure you don't just have my signature, but me on video too? Jesus, talk about being fucking insecure for a wrestling company. Corey Black know you boys are sitting here with this much effort behind the signing of a free agent?"
He tilts his head looking back and forth between the camera man and a group of two men in black suits to his right which one is holding a briefcase. The man leans back in his chair waiting on one of them to speak back, but none of them seem to have any guts to talk. He sighs in annoyance leaning forward and he runs his hands across his chin through his beard.
"JOY! Babe, can you come here please? I don't know if I'm crazy or if these guys are just from fucking men in black or some shit. Do they not know how to speak English or something? Did they send me broken fucking representatives or they don't got the master's hand up their asses? Like what is going on?"
The form of the raven haired woman pushes into the room behind the camera. She looks each of the three men over before looking over to the man sitting at the desk. She shrugs and her voice picks up on the audio
"Well looking at them, I'm not sure that they have anything to talk to you about babe. You already told them you were already gonna sign, right?"
The mans laughter fills the camera audio. He pauses for a moment looking at each of them.
"I suppose so, but you'd think they'd at least talk right?"
"Sir, we are simply here to have your contract signed. Nothing more, nothing less."
"Oh, they do speak Joy!! Well than what if I told you boys you could head back to New York and Corey Black without my signature? Is that why you guys look like thugs straight out the mafia? Not that you bother me with the whole tactic, but I'm certainly curious."
"We don't believe in bullying, sir. We are just here to do our job, nothing more. We need to get your contract signed before the end of the event so we can let the main office do with you as they please for the cards."
"Ooooooh, goody too shoos, eh? That's quite alright. Not like you guys want to make it any more interesting for me with the way that roster of yours looks. Scared of scaring off the talent or some shit? I get it."
He pauses for a moment looking at the briefcase in their hands and he holds a hand out motioning for it. As they hand it to him he looks down at the briefcase as they sit it on his desk. Opening it with little care to the men in front of him as he begins to read the contract from the top down. He stops for a moment to look at the men for a moment. Pausing he looks at the woman behind the camera man as he holds a hand out.
"So babe, would you be so kind to give me a pen?"
"I'll be right back with one babe."
He nods watching her turn walking out the door. His hands tapping impatiently on the desk as he looks over at the camera. He grins at the man behind it and speaks gently at him.
"You boys seem too used to having to be so damn stiff. What? You guys expecting me to be another one of your violent lunatic types? Please. You should've looked me up better than that gentlemen. I don't work in this business for such things, I'm a man who looks at the world with realism. You earn what you get in this world, nothing more, and nothing less."
They stay silent as the man scratches his nose for a moment.
"You guys don't know who I am I'm guessing. Too busy watching more of your Odin Balfores and Dunes right? I get it. You didn't do your homework. That just makes it where I don't have to act nice toward you either."
They seem to twitch looking at one another as he runs his hand back and forth across his chin looking at them.
"I'm the future of your precious little company. Not because I'm going to destroy all of your roster, not because I'm some sadistic fucker looking to hurt them, not because I have some perfect strategy, but because I'm more focused in what it is I do in the ring. I spend more time in and outside of the ring working my ass off than any of you fucking plebs will ever understand."
"Sure, you probably have your own tal-"
"Oh, fuck off in that other man's ars. I don't need you tonguing down mine mate. Your company sends you down here to get a contract signed from New York down to fucking Ireland, and you didn't think for a moment that you should actually look me up? What fucking useless pieces of shit you are. Not worth those suits on your backs. Fucking shites."
His interruption of the men makes them all stop in their tracks. His voice pausing for a moment as his woman Joy begins to push open the door. Joy lays the pen out in front of him as she turns and begins to walk back out, she stops to eye the camera man for a moment as his hand taps gently on his desk. Pulling the camera back to him.
"The World Championship Federation has been looking for talent, because it has been needing talent. You've been desperate enough to pick up anyone in the past month. People who come and go in like a fucking week. Hell, you got fucking cripples fighting at your pay per view because they have to be the best source of entertainment in your show! Hell, you got people who aren't anything more than jobbers wrestling every week because you just need them to fill a roster spot! So, I get it. You ain't got much choice but to come to me and sign me into your precious WCF. The difference however is this gentlemen, I'm not in this business for any glorified reason."
He takes the pen dabbing it gently on a piece of paper on the side checking the ink. His eyes still skimming the fine print, but as he looks back up at the men in suites he scoffs.
"I'll be in the ring when you boys have the balls to book me. I'll go in and I'll earn everything I get. Not because I'm better than anyone else, not because I'm the best your gonna get. Not that typical horseshite. No, no, no I'm not that ignorant. I'll study film on all of you because that is what I fucking do gents. I am an artist in this game that will learn you from the inside and the out. I will simply be more prepared, because I fucking care about this business. I fucking care about the money I can get from this damn business. I care about the fact that every single one of your damn fans will have to acknowledge my talents."
He laughs to himself taping gently on the bottom line before signing across it quickly.
"The World Championship Federation has a dying age still remaining at the top. The old guard still holding dearly onto their fame while their talent slowly fades away. Whether they come back from being cripples, come forward after a long hiatus to reconfirm themselves, fight through to crawl up some stupid mountain as a lone giant, or simply find themselves fighting the same old fight again and again, it doesn't matter."
His pen rests on the contract and he looks his legs up into his chair tilting his head to look n the camera.
"You boys have signed the most important deal in the WCF's history. Not because I'm going to be your top talent, no ,no ,no. You have simply made sure the WCF will have a much longer lasting effect. You have just dotted your line in reality. You have signed the dots of reality. You have just now realized the truth of what is in store for your precious company."
He leans forward looking at the men in front of him.
"You have your future WCF. And it is The Omen Of Reality. Your Prodigal Son. Abraxas McKnight!"
He scoffs then looking at all the men as he closes the briefcase with a thud.
"Now get your arses out my fucking house. I'll see you fuckers at Slam."
He watches as they all walk out of the room. His eyes keeping on them as they each walk out of the room. The door to his office closing in front of the camera with a loud thud.
"Didn't you hear him? Get out, please. And turn that god damn camera off!"
The camera turns as Joy grips a hold of it. Turning off the camera with a sudden static.
