Roll Up

[Roberto Verona]

{ Wind howls through the gap in the large ornate doors at the front of Roberto Verona’s mansion as Verona and Hannah Reed carefully push their way into the grand hall way, eagerly closing the door behind them to escape the unusually harsh lash of the gale outside. As the door slams shut the echoes resonates around the hallway as the pair begin to remove their long, expensive coats and hang them up. As Verona removes a pair of leather driving gloves Hannah walks down the small flight of steps, tossing her head back at him. }

Hannah Reed: Did you really have to buy her that dinosaur toy? There’s barely any space in her room what with all her costumes, wrestling gear and luchador masks.

Roberto Verona: You were the one who told me we needed to bond more.

Hannah Reed: I meant take her out for pizza and catch up, not open your wallet in every shop!

Roberto Verona: If this makes her happy, then that’s what counts. Besides, we’ll have plenty of time to bond when we kick the Jones’ in the face together on Sunday.

{ Hannah looks at Roberto unimpressed. }

Hannah Reed: Beating people up isn’t bonding.

Roberto Verona: It is for pro-wrestlers.

Hannah Reed: Why did I ever agree to get into this business?

Roberto Verona: Because of my devilishly handsome good looks?

Hannah Reed: Nice try.

{ Roberto raises his hands. }

Roberto Verona: Ok, I promise me and her will play catch up. Will that get your off my back?

{ Hannah mulls over loudly for a second. }

Hannah Reed: Ok, I’ll let you off. This time.

Roberto Verona: Oh, geez thank you, you’re so gracious.

Hannah Reed: Don’t push it.

{ The pair walk over towards the already burning fire, Hannah sliding down onto a sofa as she lets out a sigh of relief. Roberto walks to a wine rack and pulls out a bottle, unscrewing the top as he picks up two glasses and sits down beside her. }

Roberto Verona: I know things have been hectic lately, especially with the global tour, but I have big plans for this company.

Hannah Reed: Oh yes, your secret plans you keep droning on about but never sharing. How much paper work are they going to cause me?

Roberto Verona: Well, unless somebody plans to sue us, none I hope.

{ Roberto begins to pour the pair a glass each carefully before offering Hannah one. }

Roberto Verona: In all seriousness, this needs to happen. Things have been on the decline for a while and my work load has been ludicrous, I’ve barely been able to contemplate a return to the ring. That was the only reason I even hired Joey in the first place.

Hannah Reed: You mean it wasn’t just to torture him.

Robero Verona: No. That’s just a perk.

{ Hannah takes a sip. }

Hannah Reed: So you’re really serious about this.

{ Roberto nods. }

Roberto Verona: Yes. I’ve taken enough time out of my career, and besides, the whole place could do with a refresh.

{ Hannah leans across seductively, kissing Roberto gently. }

Hannah Reed: Will I still have a job.

Roberto Verona: I’ll consider it.

{ Roberto grins as Hannah slaps him playfully, resting her head on his shoulder. }

Hannah Reed: If it means you’ll be free to pester me more, I guess I can stomach it. Just don’t do anything too stupid.

Roberto Verona: Me? Something stupid? When has that ever happened? I mean besides the time Angel got his grubby little fingers on power, or the time Simon tortured Jess, or the time we let them air a crucifixion and got one too many likes on right wing Christian Facebook groups…

{ Hannah smiles. }

Hannah Reed: I’m sure you’ve got it covered, you usually do.

Roberto Verona: Of course, but first things first, this week I need to deal Ana and Alex, once and for all. Those perennial pains in the arse need to be removed.

Hannah Reed: do you really think just beating them in a wrestling match is going to stop them complaining about how you run the place?

{ Roberto shakes his head. }

Roberto Verona: No. But when Jess pins Ana’s shoulders to the mat every last ounce of her credibility will wash away and everyone will see her for what she is. A bitter, jealous little girl.

Hannah Reed: And what about Alex?

Roberto Verona: I have no intention of pinning him.

{ Roberto smiles sadistically. }

Roberto Verona: I’m just going to hurt him.

Roll up, roll up, read all about it! Another bitter, self-absorbed vacuous blowhard is crying and moaning about being mistreated by the big evil Roberto Verona. 

I mean, honestly, do you realise just how pathetic you truly sound, Alex? Where were your complaints about people getting what they deserve three months ago when you were keeping your Imperial Championship at my expense thanks to Big Foot’s bastard offspring? You seemed pretty damn happy to reap the spoils of rule exploitation that day, now all of a sudden I deprive you of an immediate opportunity to screw somebody else out of their big moment in the Heir to the Throne to satisfy your own selfish validation I’m the embodiment of Hitler, Pol Pot and Stalin? 

Change the fucking record, it’s getting tedious. 

I waited two years before “claiming my re-match”, which FYI geniuses, if you actually read your contracts isn’t even an intrinsic right anyway. How long did you want to wait, Alex? One, maybe two weeks? What the fuck makes you think you deserve to headline another one of my pay per views when you completely shit the bed on the biggest stage of them all? Do you want to even begin to visualise the riot I would have had on my hands if the first week after NCW ended I started demanding a spot in the Heir to the Throne? 

Of course you don’t, because that would undermine your delusions of grandeur. 

Let me make this perfectly clear, Jones. You fucked up. You could have still been Imperial champion and put that overhyped justice warrior in his place, but no, you decided to be a perpetual disappointment to me and justify my complete lack of investment in you by surrendering your championship to Pleasant. And yes, the point still stands despite your apparent budding bromance which has emerged of late. 

You want another opportunity? You’re going to have to knuckle down and earn it. 

This isn’t a charity you perennial whiner, you want something, I expect you to graft a little and God damn well earn the opportunity instead of stamping your feet like a petulant child and making demands based on past accomplishments. Congratulations, you busted your ass and proved everybody wrong. 

Then you fucked up and proved every one right. Those are the breaks. 

You and Ana both like to strut around this company acting like you’ve been held down, when the reality is you’ve both been given everything you’ve ever wanted and now, when somebody finally tells you no, you act like you’ve always been the victim of a grand conspiracy to hold you down. The reality is your two self-absorbed jackasses are the very epitome of the entitled culture of sycophants which leech away the credibility of our “modern progressive culture”. 

Everything is me me me. Ana wants this, Alex wants that. All I ever hear is you two running your mouths like you own the place, then trying to benefit from this pathetic culture of “blame Verona”. One day you, and the rest of these vacuous parasites will learn to live with the consequences of your own actions instead of trying to invoke the Italian bogeyman everytime something doesn’t go your way. 

However, this week, you’re in luck. My generosity apparently knows no bounds when it grants me the opportunity to put your “freedom fighters” in your place. 

So here you go, one last request fulfilled. You want me? You’ve got me. Ana wants Jess? She’s got her. This is your opportunity to prove to the world that the big bad boss as been all mean to you and you don’t deserve it and Ana’s chance to prove… well, I lose track of what exactly she is trying to achieve but hey, she can give it a good old college try. 

Then, when one of us leaves you flat on your back questioning why always me again you can shut the fuck up, crawl back to whatever cesspool you two call your martial home, lick your wounds and stop wasting my time. 

Contrary to popular belief, I have better things to do with my time than just listen to two people blame me for their failings in a frankly pathetic attempt to come to terms with the fact that their golden run came crashing to an abrupt end at Night of the Immortals. 

If the pair of you are incapable of facing the rough descent, perhaps you shouldn’t have climbed the mountain by cutting the ropes of your colleagues along the way. 

You reap what you so, and it’s about time your collected the harvest of your ill gotten ways. 

I mean hell, the punishment for all of my “terrible villainy” during my run in NCW seems to be a perpetual living inferno where I have to keep listening to the toxic opinions of a roster of ungrateful sycophants who are completely devoid of people skills and think telling me how much I fucking suck is the way to solve their problems. Honestly, if the Catholic church wants to rebrand for the twenty first century they should just document my daily life running a professional wrestling company to put people off from sinning. 

But hey, maybe I’m oversharing and digressing a little. 

Consider this weekend your last moment in the limelight, Alex. Neither you, nor Ana, have accomplished anything following your championship demises to motivate me to reward either of your with another opportunity at the top of the mountain. If you want to get back to where you were before so you can walking around with a fallacious sense of entitlement than I suggest you don your amour, sharpen your swords and punch a hole in the castles wall and make it impossible to overlook either of you. 

If there’s any “variant” of the pair of you I do miss, it’s the hungry professional wrestlers who had an axe to grind but sharpened it in the ring instead of acting like budget Mercedes Vargas’ and just droning on and on with a microphone. 

Perhaps if I am lucky I’ll get to see them both this weekend when we face off on the ultimate conflict resolution platform. At least the audience would get a reward for all of your endless lecturing on the ills of this company’s administration, it’s frankly the least you two owe them. 

So strap up. 

Get those gloves on. 

And show me why I shouldn’t overlook the pair of you.