Post by Davey Ortega on Sept 22, 2013 14:35:42 GMT
We open to the living space of Davey Ortega inside The Casino. Davey is standing in front of his 72'' TV, holding the files on the remaining contestants. Both Cass and Jason are standing either side of him.
Davey: And then there were two. Congratulations are in order, the two of you have made it all the way to the final round. The final challenge and only one of you will get the job of a lifetime, as my confidant. I know that some of the challenges were confusing and seemed on the spot, but trust me when I say; every single one was important and gave me vital information about you. Now comes the final challenge and the most important one. You had a week to create a commercial advertising The Casino. Jason, you have the floor.
Davey sits down on the couch as Jason puts his DVD in. The screen comes alive with a cardboard cut out of Davey Ortega in the ''Buddy Christ'' pose with The Casino directly behind him. Jason walks onto the scene.
Jason: If you are tired of the same old disappointments on the table and snake eyes on the dice then come on down to Big Dave's House of Cards! We offer the highest pay outs in Atlantic City, weekly poker tournaments and Thursday Nights after five...Ladies drink for free. So come on down to Big Dave's House of Cards, where having a bad day is simply not an option.
The commercial fades out leaving Cass with look of mild shock on her face. Davey, on the other hand, is looking through Jason's file
Davey: I look and look through this file and I can not find a trace of psychosis in your medical history. So either my files are wrong or you are as good a liar as me. Either of these scenarios are unsettling, I mean...''Big Dave''? I'm not even six foot, and I would never give myself a nick name. That is just petty and self-serving. And House of Cards?! That is not the name my casino.
Jason: I know, but come on. The Casino is just not a proper name. If you want to advertise this place then you need a new name. Something to set us apart from the plethora of competition. Now House of Cards isn't official, obviously, but something about it just sticks.
Davey: Some of us have respect for history, and that is exactly what the name represents. Why do you think they named that brilliant piece of cinematography Casino? That was truly a case of art imitating life. As far as your gimmick pitch is concerned I would say this place has a rather unique one already. It's owner and operator is a full time professional wrestler with a top name company. With my association, and therefor my casino's association, too IWF I am guaranteed every die hard fan in the area. Oh, whichever one of you wins remind me later to get a hold of Simon DeMontfort regarding ad time on IWF television. Now sit down Jason, and be very happy I didn't fire you on the spot.
Jason sits down with a disappointed look on his face as Davey stands up turning to face them.
Davey: Well Cass, the bar wasn't set very high. Dazzle me.
Cass: I didn't make one.
Davey: Oh you have got to be kidding me.
Cass: I'm sorry I just do not see how making a commercial is in any way relevant to the job on the line. Yes The Casino is an important part of it, but we all know most of it will heavily involve personal affairs, and IWF.
Davey: So let me get this straight. On one hand I have a someone who did what he was told, only to humiliate himself for the first time in this competition and on the other hand I have a woman who, surprise surprise, didn't do what she was told. Both of you, come with me.
Davey walks towards and out the door with the two finalists walk a few steps behind him, obviously uneasy about their very near future. They follow Davey out of the apartment down the hall and into his office. He walks behind his desk opening the right top drawer grabbing two full sized notepads slamming them on the desk.
Davey: I found these, tucked away in Prestons closet. Apparently he didn't mind leaving this behind but had to take the toiletries. I skimmed through these and realizing what they were I stopped reading. This is a collection of his thoughts, facts, notes on day to day business...
Cass: His journal?
Davey: Very astute. Maybe you two need some motivation, and I hope one of you finds it before next week. You two may be the luckiest people standing in The Casino. I should fire you both for gross incompetence, only that would force me to pick five other people and begin the process all over again. As much as I hate to admit it, Cass you are right. IWF is beginning to weigh heavily on me and I don't have the time to for it. So I am moving on with the intended challenge. This was always meant to have two parts. Next week, you two will be accompanying me to IWF.
Cass: Finally. So what will be doing? Are we going to be at ringside cheering you on?
Davey: No.
Cass:...Oh! We be hanging back stage then, right? Conversing with other IWF superstars and helping your reputation with them...?
Davey: No...and don't ever suggest that again. Though you will be doing a form of networking. I need you both establishing multiple dialogues with the behind the scenes crew at IWF. The ones that make the show run, the unsung heroes. That is your job, and believe me if you fail me again neither of you will like the end result.
Cass: How is that supposed to help you?
Davey: No idea. Though that is how Preston started all those years ago in nCw. From being good friends with the janitor to convincing Kelly Fox not to fire me when I said some choice words about Trent Helms's stroke. So if I were you I would take these journals and study up. Time to get inside the mind of my psychiatrist.
Cass walks out, frustrated with the entire situation. She's seem to want more direct involvement with IWF affairs leaving Jason in the room alone with Davey quietly collecting the journals.
Davey: I hope you are not this quite if you survive. I do prefer some lively conversation and I am beginning to questions Cass's motives.
Jason: She's just a huge fan. And...
Davey: Don't defend her. Remember she is the last person standing between you and never having to want again. Remember your housing paid for, kids off to an ivy league school, and pretty much whatever else you need.
Jason leaves the office, closing the door behind him as Davey gets up walking to the two way mirror.
Jesus...those two are the finalists?
Davey ignores the voice, walking towards the door.
You can run but you know it doesn't matter which one wins. They will fail in the end.
Davey opens the door and walks out of the office with out looking back. Because if you don't except it's existence then the voice isn't real...right?
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It's frustrating being the worlds smartest athlete sometimes. Not only do I have to suffer the boorish mouth breathers that comprise the roster, I am also now left in a state of wonder by our front office. Let me begin by saying that I have no remorse for what I did to Joe Everyman. I told everyone that I was going to send a message and that I did, and I not only sent my personal message stamped in blood but I also furthered an agenda. Our boss and leader Simon DeMontfort believes Joe must be punished, and punishment is a word that should be used loosely when describing the beating he took last Monday Night. Sure, I hear all the nay sayers already whining about how the results would of been different if it had been a level playing field. I'm sorry...
Did I make him wear a blindfold? No.
Did I take away his freewill, or hack off his arms preventing him from taking off the blindfold? No.
Did I get drunk and wreck my chances at being the face of IWF? No.
OK, I admit it, the last one was a cheap shot. But hey when you are the last remaining real villain you need all the heat you can get. So imagine my surprise when the card came down and I was booked wrapping up the under card. I tear up the first Imperial champion and my reward? I get placed in a match with someone struggling to find his own identity. Stephen Kingsley.
I remember the last time we were in the ring, ironically it was also the last time you were relevant. Ever since Cyrus Daniels wised up and ditched you he has been on the road to bigger and better things, casting a huge shadow over you. In the beginning people might of wondered what this would do for your career, if you could manage to be a success with out piggy backing the obvious talent. Well, that question was answered last week when you faced off against a fresh faced rookie. A kid who is still wet behind the ears. Sure your experience showed through early but then your mental facilities went bye bye. You slipped up, and got caught with one of the most basic moves in wrestling history. And, instead of keeping calm and thinking you panicked and thought about..what? The little bimbo you have by your side who is only with you because...well...you're the best she can get. Which is just sad.
You boldly told the roster too take notice, and watch what you do to the rookie so I did watch, I watched you tap out and now I am here, standing in front of you. You think I am standing your way, but what exactly am I in the way of? Do you even have a path? Does it lead to gold? revenge? blood? ...a win? I don't know what you hope to achieve here and to be honest even if it was billed as Everymans alcoholism or Cables face I still wouldn't care. I am not here to stand in your way, I am here to get at one man.
Like I said this is no longer grey, it is black and white and I hate to break your delusions but no one is standing in your way, the cold truth is you are standing in MY way. You may not have any direct association with him yet I want you to know that when facing me I will think of you as a good, good friend of Spike Kane's. I am going too add your blood on my knuckles and I will wear it as a trophy, along with Everymans because you will be victim number two.
Even the screams of innocents draw a god's mercy
Davey: And then there were two. Congratulations are in order, the two of you have made it all the way to the final round. The final challenge and only one of you will get the job of a lifetime, as my confidant. I know that some of the challenges were confusing and seemed on the spot, but trust me when I say; every single one was important and gave me vital information about you. Now comes the final challenge and the most important one. You had a week to create a commercial advertising The Casino. Jason, you have the floor.
Davey sits down on the couch as Jason puts his DVD in. The screen comes alive with a cardboard cut out of Davey Ortega in the ''Buddy Christ'' pose with The Casino directly behind him. Jason walks onto the scene.
Jason: If you are tired of the same old disappointments on the table and snake eyes on the dice then come on down to Big Dave's House of Cards! We offer the highest pay outs in Atlantic City, weekly poker tournaments and Thursday Nights after five...Ladies drink for free. So come on down to Big Dave's House of Cards, where having a bad day is simply not an option.
The commercial fades out leaving Cass with look of mild shock on her face. Davey, on the other hand, is looking through Jason's file
Davey: I look and look through this file and I can not find a trace of psychosis in your medical history. So either my files are wrong or you are as good a liar as me. Either of these scenarios are unsettling, I mean...''Big Dave''? I'm not even six foot, and I would never give myself a nick name. That is just petty and self-serving. And House of Cards?! That is not the name my casino.
Jason: I know, but come on. The Casino is just not a proper name. If you want to advertise this place then you need a new name. Something to set us apart from the plethora of competition. Now House of Cards isn't official, obviously, but something about it just sticks.
Davey: Some of us have respect for history, and that is exactly what the name represents. Why do you think they named that brilliant piece of cinematography Casino? That was truly a case of art imitating life. As far as your gimmick pitch is concerned I would say this place has a rather unique one already. It's owner and operator is a full time professional wrestler with a top name company. With my association, and therefor my casino's association, too IWF I am guaranteed every die hard fan in the area. Oh, whichever one of you wins remind me later to get a hold of Simon DeMontfort regarding ad time on IWF television. Now sit down Jason, and be very happy I didn't fire you on the spot.
Jason sits down with a disappointed look on his face as Davey stands up turning to face them.
Davey: Well Cass, the bar wasn't set very high. Dazzle me.
Cass: I didn't make one.
Davey: Oh you have got to be kidding me.
Cass: I'm sorry I just do not see how making a commercial is in any way relevant to the job on the line. Yes The Casino is an important part of it, but we all know most of it will heavily involve personal affairs, and IWF.
Davey: So let me get this straight. On one hand I have a someone who did what he was told, only to humiliate himself for the first time in this competition and on the other hand I have a woman who, surprise surprise, didn't do what she was told. Both of you, come with me.
Davey walks towards and out the door with the two finalists walk a few steps behind him, obviously uneasy about their very near future. They follow Davey out of the apartment down the hall and into his office. He walks behind his desk opening the right top drawer grabbing two full sized notepads slamming them on the desk.
Davey: I found these, tucked away in Prestons closet. Apparently he didn't mind leaving this behind but had to take the toiletries. I skimmed through these and realizing what they were I stopped reading. This is a collection of his thoughts, facts, notes on day to day business...
Cass: His journal?
Davey: Very astute. Maybe you two need some motivation, and I hope one of you finds it before next week. You two may be the luckiest people standing in The Casino. I should fire you both for gross incompetence, only that would force me to pick five other people and begin the process all over again. As much as I hate to admit it, Cass you are right. IWF is beginning to weigh heavily on me and I don't have the time to for it. So I am moving on with the intended challenge. This was always meant to have two parts. Next week, you two will be accompanying me to IWF.
Cass: Finally. So what will be doing? Are we going to be at ringside cheering you on?
Davey: No.
Cass:...Oh! We be hanging back stage then, right? Conversing with other IWF superstars and helping your reputation with them...?
Davey: No...and don't ever suggest that again. Though you will be doing a form of networking. I need you both establishing multiple dialogues with the behind the scenes crew at IWF. The ones that make the show run, the unsung heroes. That is your job, and believe me if you fail me again neither of you will like the end result.
Cass: How is that supposed to help you?
Davey: No idea. Though that is how Preston started all those years ago in nCw. From being good friends with the janitor to convincing Kelly Fox not to fire me when I said some choice words about Trent Helms's stroke. So if I were you I would take these journals and study up. Time to get inside the mind of my psychiatrist.
Cass walks out, frustrated with the entire situation. She's seem to want more direct involvement with IWF affairs leaving Jason in the room alone with Davey quietly collecting the journals.
Davey: I hope you are not this quite if you survive. I do prefer some lively conversation and I am beginning to questions Cass's motives.
Jason: She's just a huge fan. And...
Davey: Don't defend her. Remember she is the last person standing between you and never having to want again. Remember your housing paid for, kids off to an ivy league school, and pretty much whatever else you need.
Jason leaves the office, closing the door behind him as Davey gets up walking to the two way mirror.
Jesus...those two are the finalists?
Davey ignores the voice, walking towards the door.
You can run but you know it doesn't matter which one wins. They will fail in the end.
Davey opens the door and walks out of the office with out looking back. Because if you don't except it's existence then the voice isn't real...right?
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It's frustrating being the worlds smartest athlete sometimes. Not only do I have to suffer the boorish mouth breathers that comprise the roster, I am also now left in a state of wonder by our front office. Let me begin by saying that I have no remorse for what I did to Joe Everyman. I told everyone that I was going to send a message and that I did, and I not only sent my personal message stamped in blood but I also furthered an agenda. Our boss and leader Simon DeMontfort believes Joe must be punished, and punishment is a word that should be used loosely when describing the beating he took last Monday Night. Sure, I hear all the nay sayers already whining about how the results would of been different if it had been a level playing field. I'm sorry...
Did I make him wear a blindfold? No.
Did I take away his freewill, or hack off his arms preventing him from taking off the blindfold? No.
Did I get drunk and wreck my chances at being the face of IWF? No.
OK, I admit it, the last one was a cheap shot. But hey when you are the last remaining real villain you need all the heat you can get. So imagine my surprise when the card came down and I was booked wrapping up the under card. I tear up the first Imperial champion and my reward? I get placed in a match with someone struggling to find his own identity. Stephen Kingsley.
I remember the last time we were in the ring, ironically it was also the last time you were relevant. Ever since Cyrus Daniels wised up and ditched you he has been on the road to bigger and better things, casting a huge shadow over you. In the beginning people might of wondered what this would do for your career, if you could manage to be a success with out piggy backing the obvious talent. Well, that question was answered last week when you faced off against a fresh faced rookie. A kid who is still wet behind the ears. Sure your experience showed through early but then your mental facilities went bye bye. You slipped up, and got caught with one of the most basic moves in wrestling history. And, instead of keeping calm and thinking you panicked and thought about..what? The little bimbo you have by your side who is only with you because...well...you're the best she can get. Which is just sad.
You boldly told the roster too take notice, and watch what you do to the rookie so I did watch, I watched you tap out and now I am here, standing in front of you. You think I am standing your way, but what exactly am I in the way of? Do you even have a path? Does it lead to gold? revenge? blood? ...a win? I don't know what you hope to achieve here and to be honest even if it was billed as Everymans alcoholism or Cables face I still wouldn't care. I am not here to stand in your way, I am here to get at one man.
Like I said this is no longer grey, it is black and white and I hate to break your delusions but no one is standing in your way, the cold truth is you are standing in MY way. You may not have any direct association with him yet I want you to know that when facing me I will think of you as a good, good friend of Spike Kane's. I am going too add your blood on my knuckles and I will wear it as a trophy, along with Everymans because you will be victim number two.
Even the screams of innocents draw a god's mercy
Well howdy there pardner.