Post by kaster on Nov 25, 2023 8:38:08 GMT
A chair sits in the middle of the frame. Caleb Cannin walks in, giving a heavy sigh before sitting down.
“At this point, aren’t you tired of this?”
“Listen, I’m sure any one of those Boston idiots is going to lose their minds over Nick Danger getting another chance at me. Great. But what do I have to show for it? As far as I’m concerned, Nick Danger has been nothing more than a bee towards my career. He’s annoying, never stops getting in my face and yeah, he’ll sting you once or twice. But you know what, though? I’ve really had it with him. The guy doesn’t know when to quit. So I’ll make him quit. Two out of three falls? That’s nothing. I will go up two and zero on him without breaking a sweat. Does he understand the effect that all of these long matches are having on him? Danger is slowing down, racking up the small injuries and doing worse in the ring, even though I thought that was impossible. I don’t think he fully understands what is going to happen here. Last time we were in the ring, I beat him one-two-three! And I said that would and should be the last time I saw his face, but he keeps getting in my business. He cost me a match against Angel Blake. FOR THE RECORD, I would have beaten the great Angel Blake had it not been for this dumbass! And you’re telling me I have to fight him again? That’s not even mentioning the fact that I was not pinned nor submitted in the triple threat from Sacrifice! For all intents and purposes, I should be back in the Extinction Event! I should be main eventing for the second year in a row! Instead, I have to get back in the ring with Nick Danger and maybe finally beat it into his stupid fucking head that he should not want to face me! I feel like I’m going crazy here! It’s just-”
He grasps at his hair and grits his teeth. The frustration is clearly setting in for The Future.
“I try so hard to be professional. The idea that someone like myself must be relegated to the pre-show while an old, washed-up waste of breath like James Gilmore or Nick Knight takes up a spot on the main card makes me want to vomit. This is why this company needs me, so that we can pivot away from the old and showcase the stars of tomorrow! By the way, I didn’t know that good ol’ R.A. had it in him, but good on you, kid, go retire that sad sack of shit! I never thought I’d say this, but I’m rooting for you. Where was I? Right, Nick Danger! What have I not said about this total fucking buffoon? I know he wants to wrestle anyone and everyone, but I’m looking to move onto to something a little more on my level. See, the pre-show is more Nick’s speed, I’m a main event star myself! But look, I get it. It’s the holidays, people are spending their time elsewhere, they don’t need to see the special attraction right now! If they don’t lay down the money, then no Caleb Cannin! It’s decent business acumen. Now, if we’re talking about something like, say, Night of the Immortals, then you’d want my face all over the advertising. I can’t say the same for Nick Danger. He’s a liability, really. I wouldn’t want that guy promoting the number one pro wrestling company in the world! That’s a PR disaster waiting to happen.”
Clasping his hands together, he gives that trademark smirk of smugness.
“I almost forgot! See, I have a surprise for everyone. I’ve been thinking about, no pun intended, my future. I’ve had to look back on my past a little bit, even. I watched some tape, went to visit some people and made some phone calls. I came to the conclusion that one man can’t start a revolution! No, there needs to be something more. Something that could help people understand the impact that the next generation will have on this business. So, while people were out turkey hunting, I did little hunting of my own…”
Caleb walks out of yet another gym. Or, well, he is shoved outside by some security.
“IS THIS HOW YOU TREAT CUSTOMERS?!”
The door slams shut behind him. He leans up against the glass, fuming.
“I’LL MAKE SURE YOU GUYS NEVER MAKE PROFIT!”
He turns away and shakes his head in pure disgust. While he scrolls on his phone, he stomps down the sidewalk.
“This is horseshit! I can’t advertise in the gym?! Unbelievable…”
As he continues to search his phone, he walks into a mini-mart. He picks up a water and heads towards the register. After shoving the water towards the cashier, he continues to lean over his phone.
“That will be 2.49. Cash or credit?”
“2.49?! Goddamn ripoff store…”
He mindlessly pulls out his wallet with one hand while his phone rests in the other. While he fiddles with his wallet, the cashier grows a bit impatient.
“Sir?”
“Gimme one second, douchebag! Gold’s Gym? No…”
Finally, a tap on Caleb’s shoulder disrupts his search. He perks up, about to engage in a shouting contest.
“What the fuck do you w-w-woah, my god!”
The man that tapped him on the shoulder is a hulking tower. Short, black hair and cold, green eyes that stare a hole right through him. Caleb eyes the man up and down in shock.
“You gonna pay or what?”
“I- you- uh… do you need some work?”
The man tilts his head.
“I mean, I’m trying to hire someone right now! You’re, like, the perfect fit!”
“How much?”
“If you just let me explain, I can- huh?”
“How much are you paying?”
With a quick flick of the wrist, Caleb pulls out a few hundred dollar bills. The man is about to take them, but Cannin draws his hand back.
“I need you to sign a contract first, bud! You know, so that I know you’re serious.”
The man shrugs.
“How hard can it be?”
Caleb smirks as he looks at the man.
“Not hard at all, my friend. Not hard at all.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, drumroll please!”
Caleb drums his hands on his knees as the man, now in a suit and sunglasses, walks into view.
“Meet my personal ringside attendant, Leon… Leon…”
He leans over to Leon, who whispers in his ear.
“Leon Kilgore!”
Leon nods to the camera before crossing his arms and letting Caleb speak.
“You see, I’ve realized that I’ve been making the mistake of not bringing some company with me to IWF. Time after time, people keep getting away with their own little schemes, but NO MORE! Now, with Leon by my side, I’ve got nothing to worry about! But you, little Danger, should be very, very worried. Because Leon doesn’t like it when people like you decide to dig into my business, isn’t that right, Leon…”
Caleb wraps an arm around Leon, who stares at him. He backs off before looking back at the camera.
“The best part about having a personal attendant is that now, I don’t have to worry about carrying the Joker in the Pack everywhere! I’ve got Leon to do it for me! Leon?”
He pulls out the briefcase and hands it to Leon. Leon simply holds it while Cannin looks at him.
“There, now you look cool as hell. You’re welcome.”
He turns back to the camera.
“So, Nick, now that you and everyone else have gotten a little preview of what’s to come, I know you’re probably pissing yourself. After all, you’re facing one of the biggest prospects in all of wrestling. I don’t blame you if you’re afraid, especially with my new attendant in my corner. Maybe now you’ll learn to leave me the hell alone. Or you won’t, because you never learned anything past the fourth grade. At Survival of the Fittest, don’t make this any harder than it has to be. Leon doesn’t get paid by the hour! And neither do I, so if you’re trying to go the distance, I think you’ll get tripped up right at the starting line. There’s levels to this… and you’re not on mine. I’ll prove it at Survival of the Fittest. Despite what you think, this isn’t a situation where we fight forever. I want to be done with you. I want to get rid of you. Please god, let me be finished with you. Come on, Leon. We’ve got some work to do.”
Caleb taps the big man’s broad chest with the back of his hand, signaling for them to leave. Leon grunts, hauling the Joker in the Pack with him as the two exit the frame.
“At this point, aren’t you tired of this?”
“Listen, I’m sure any one of those Boston idiots is going to lose their minds over Nick Danger getting another chance at me. Great. But what do I have to show for it? As far as I’m concerned, Nick Danger has been nothing more than a bee towards my career. He’s annoying, never stops getting in my face and yeah, he’ll sting you once or twice. But you know what, though? I’ve really had it with him. The guy doesn’t know when to quit. So I’ll make him quit. Two out of three falls? That’s nothing. I will go up two and zero on him without breaking a sweat. Does he understand the effect that all of these long matches are having on him? Danger is slowing down, racking up the small injuries and doing worse in the ring, even though I thought that was impossible. I don’t think he fully understands what is going to happen here. Last time we were in the ring, I beat him one-two-three! And I said that would and should be the last time I saw his face, but he keeps getting in my business. He cost me a match against Angel Blake. FOR THE RECORD, I would have beaten the great Angel Blake had it not been for this dumbass! And you’re telling me I have to fight him again? That’s not even mentioning the fact that I was not pinned nor submitted in the triple threat from Sacrifice! For all intents and purposes, I should be back in the Extinction Event! I should be main eventing for the second year in a row! Instead, I have to get back in the ring with Nick Danger and maybe finally beat it into his stupid fucking head that he should not want to face me! I feel like I’m going crazy here! It’s just-”
He grasps at his hair and grits his teeth. The frustration is clearly setting in for The Future.
“I try so hard to be professional. The idea that someone like myself must be relegated to the pre-show while an old, washed-up waste of breath like James Gilmore or Nick Knight takes up a spot on the main card makes me want to vomit. This is why this company needs me, so that we can pivot away from the old and showcase the stars of tomorrow! By the way, I didn’t know that good ol’ R.A. had it in him, but good on you, kid, go retire that sad sack of shit! I never thought I’d say this, but I’m rooting for you. Where was I? Right, Nick Danger! What have I not said about this total fucking buffoon? I know he wants to wrestle anyone and everyone, but I’m looking to move onto to something a little more on my level. See, the pre-show is more Nick’s speed, I’m a main event star myself! But look, I get it. It’s the holidays, people are spending their time elsewhere, they don’t need to see the special attraction right now! If they don’t lay down the money, then no Caleb Cannin! It’s decent business acumen. Now, if we’re talking about something like, say, Night of the Immortals, then you’d want my face all over the advertising. I can’t say the same for Nick Danger. He’s a liability, really. I wouldn’t want that guy promoting the number one pro wrestling company in the world! That’s a PR disaster waiting to happen.”
Clasping his hands together, he gives that trademark smirk of smugness.
“I almost forgot! See, I have a surprise for everyone. I’ve been thinking about, no pun intended, my future. I’ve had to look back on my past a little bit, even. I watched some tape, went to visit some people and made some phone calls. I came to the conclusion that one man can’t start a revolution! No, there needs to be something more. Something that could help people understand the impact that the next generation will have on this business. So, while people were out turkey hunting, I did little hunting of my own…”
Caleb walks out of yet another gym. Or, well, he is shoved outside by some security.
“IS THIS HOW YOU TREAT CUSTOMERS?!”
The door slams shut behind him. He leans up against the glass, fuming.
“I’LL MAKE SURE YOU GUYS NEVER MAKE PROFIT!”
He turns away and shakes his head in pure disgust. While he scrolls on his phone, he stomps down the sidewalk.
“This is horseshit! I can’t advertise in the gym?! Unbelievable…”
As he continues to search his phone, he walks into a mini-mart. He picks up a water and heads towards the register. After shoving the water towards the cashier, he continues to lean over his phone.
“That will be 2.49. Cash or credit?”
“2.49?! Goddamn ripoff store…”
He mindlessly pulls out his wallet with one hand while his phone rests in the other. While he fiddles with his wallet, the cashier grows a bit impatient.
“Sir?”
“Gimme one second, douchebag! Gold’s Gym? No…”
Finally, a tap on Caleb’s shoulder disrupts his search. He perks up, about to engage in a shouting contest.
“What the fuck do you w-w-woah, my god!”
The man that tapped him on the shoulder is a hulking tower. Short, black hair and cold, green eyes that stare a hole right through him. Caleb eyes the man up and down in shock.
“You gonna pay or what?”
“I- you- uh… do you need some work?”
The man tilts his head.
“I mean, I’m trying to hire someone right now! You’re, like, the perfect fit!”
“How much?”
“If you just let me explain, I can- huh?”
“How much are you paying?”
With a quick flick of the wrist, Caleb pulls out a few hundred dollar bills. The man is about to take them, but Cannin draws his hand back.
“I need you to sign a contract first, bud! You know, so that I know you’re serious.”
The man shrugs.
“How hard can it be?”
Caleb smirks as he looks at the man.
“Not hard at all, my friend. Not hard at all.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, drumroll please!”
Caleb drums his hands on his knees as the man, now in a suit and sunglasses, walks into view.
“Meet my personal ringside attendant, Leon… Leon…”
He leans over to Leon, who whispers in his ear.
“Leon Kilgore!”
Leon nods to the camera before crossing his arms and letting Caleb speak.
“You see, I’ve realized that I’ve been making the mistake of not bringing some company with me to IWF. Time after time, people keep getting away with their own little schemes, but NO MORE! Now, with Leon by my side, I’ve got nothing to worry about! But you, little Danger, should be very, very worried. Because Leon doesn’t like it when people like you decide to dig into my business, isn’t that right, Leon…”
Caleb wraps an arm around Leon, who stares at him. He backs off before looking back at the camera.
“The best part about having a personal attendant is that now, I don’t have to worry about carrying the Joker in the Pack everywhere! I’ve got Leon to do it for me! Leon?”
He pulls out the briefcase and hands it to Leon. Leon simply holds it while Cannin looks at him.
“There, now you look cool as hell. You’re welcome.”
He turns back to the camera.
“So, Nick, now that you and everyone else have gotten a little preview of what’s to come, I know you’re probably pissing yourself. After all, you’re facing one of the biggest prospects in all of wrestling. I don’t blame you if you’re afraid, especially with my new attendant in my corner. Maybe now you’ll learn to leave me the hell alone. Or you won’t, because you never learned anything past the fourth grade. At Survival of the Fittest, don’t make this any harder than it has to be. Leon doesn’t get paid by the hour! And neither do I, so if you’re trying to go the distance, I think you’ll get tripped up right at the starting line. There’s levels to this… and you’re not on mine. I’ll prove it at Survival of the Fittest. Despite what you think, this isn’t a situation where we fight forever. I want to be done with you. I want to get rid of you. Please god, let me be finished with you. Come on, Leon. We’ve got some work to do.”
Caleb taps the big man’s broad chest with the back of his hand, signaling for them to leave. Leon grunts, hauling the Joker in the Pack with him as the two exit the frame.
Well howdy there pardner.