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Post by Ryan Hughes on Feb 16, 2010 21:58:42 GMT
-Concord, California -Time: 7:30 PM
The door to the swish restaurant opens, and a man in a casual polo shirt enters from the busy street behind. Ryan Hughes seems more serene than usual, although he is merely days away from the biggest bout of his career thus far. Granted, he is one of the top names on the wrestling circuit, but when you are drawn against Vladimir Strife, you would be scared. Still, Ryan takes a few steps before a lanky waiter greets him with a toothy grin. The Batman, not wanting to cause a scene, returns the grin, before giving the waiter his duties.
“Table reserved in the name of Hughes?” “Uh.... I'm sorry, but your name isn't on the list.” “What?”
The waiter double checks the seating plan, just to be sure of his statement.
“There isn't a table in the name of Hughes here.” “Wait- ah crap. Table in the name of.... smarysmar...” “Sorry, could you speak up? I can't-” “SMARKY SMARK!”
This exclamation causes some nearby diners to crane their heads, giving Ryan dirty looks. Ryan facepalms, before turning to the waiter.
“Could you just take me to the table?” “*sniggers* Certainly, sir.”
The waiter continues to chuckle as he leads Ryan across the restaurant. As he walks, some people turn, obviously noticing him from his wrestling fame (or simply because he shouted an absurd name in a public place.) He eventually reaches his seat, that ironically took him past every diner in the eatery. Sitting down, he rests his head in his hands before the waiter attracts his attention once more with a question.
“Could I get you a drink while you wait?” “Uh yeah, you have Magners?”
The waiter curtly nods, before turning away. Ryan loses himself within his thoughts, wondering what Smarky wants with him, in such an esteemed location. Different ideas run through his head; could this be a form of training? A merchandising meeting? Lord know he needed to sell his “Outcasts” gear while the name was still fresh in the mind. “What a fucking mistake that was” he thinks to himself. Looking up, he notices something different about the seating arrangements. Most tables his size had two chairs, but his particular table has three. Smarky had something up his sleeve, and he wasn't too happy about it. “It may just be Scally. Tag team champions dinner and all that.” he reassures himself. The sound from outside gets louder once more, and Ryan's head cranes across to the entrance as someone enters, greeted by the same jerk waiter as earlier.
“OH SHIT.”
TBC They Know Who
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Post by Jaggeroth on Feb 17, 2010 6:33:03 GMT
Ryan's face is in utter shock from the sight in front of him, standing no more than ten feet away was someone he knew allot about. The man is wearing almost normal clothes for once instead of his usual jump suit and head accessory. Donned in blue jeans, a black Pantera T-shirt and brown trench coat the man asks where his table is. Ryan listens in, the man tells the waitress he is here under the reservation of Smarky Smark. Ryan nearly jumps out of his skin, why would "That Guy" be here looking for Smarky.
"O crap O crap O crap O crap O crap O CRAP on a crap cracker.....Why is he here? Smarky you son of a bitch I'll have your left nut for this.... Shit he's coming over."
The waitress escorts over the man to the table, he sits down in front of Ryan and stares at the Main Batamite. The man's face is riddled with scars; Ryan himself did in a few of them. The Batman keeps his eyes low as the silence finally becomes deafening, he snaps up and acts surprised by the man's appearance.
"Hey buddy! It's been a while Jagge.."
"Jared, it's just Jared today."
The man now known as "Jared" lifts up a bottle of pills and jiggles them around with a smile, he unscrews the cap and fires one down the hatch.
"Aw, I see. So Psycho Sid’s retarded nephew won't be making an appearance?"
"Maybe, if someone starts pumping blood or pisses me off with their horse shit then I may loose control. These new pills help for at least an hour or so, but I've had a few break outs if you know what I'm talking about."
"Haven?"
"Meh, bitch had it coming. Wearing what she was, she knew what she was getting herself into."
The men stare at each other after the awkward small talk; Ryan was in disbelief that "Jared" was actually a normal person under all the scars and masks of skin.
"So, why did Smarky call me here? If I remember correctly last time him and I met, he ended up getting a spike pile driver into a urinal."
Ryan ponders why Smarky would set up a meeting between the two old nemesis, and why was he not here to make sure nothing went down.
"I have no flipping clue, Smarky is crazy...Well not your type of crazy, no offense."
The waitress finally comes up and ask the boys if they wanted something to drink .
"I'll take a Bud Light."
"Pffffffffffffft!"
Ryan tilts his head at "Jared" and orders for him.
"And my friend will have every type of hard liquor you have in stock, and mix it all in a big bucket."
"No..no no no.....No booze while I'm on the pills. I'll have a cherry Pepsi."
Waitress: "We only serve Coke products here."
"Jared" looks up at the women, his mouth puckered at the thought of having to drink the red swill. His voice deepens and shrills up; his hand is reaching up to grab her.
"What the fuck did you just say to me, bitch?"
Ryan jumps up and grabs the hand pressing all his weight down on it and slams it back on the table.
"He'll just have water!"
The waitress turns around and jogs away from the table, Ryan lets out a sigh of relief while "Jared" pops some of his pills.
"Well, I think that went smoothly. You go into public often?"
"This is the first time without the mask in at least eight months."
"Great, you doing ok? Cause you're popping pills like its pez there buddy."
"I'm not your friend fool..AAAAAAH....wheeeew, almost lost it again.
The two's attention immediately thrusts back over to the door, someone was finally making their long awaited entrance in style.
TBCB: They know who.
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Post by Smarky Smark on Feb 17, 2010 14:55:40 GMT
“Fucking finally.”
One of them had to say it, and it was Ryan. Both men look on in confusion as Smarky Smark strolls across the restaurant with the douchebag waiter in tow. As he approaches, he gives a curt nod to both men, who fail to respond. This upsets Smarky slightly, and his face is glum as he takes the third and final seat on table 37. There is an awkward silence as Smarky removes his coat, where both Ryan and Jared stare at the Shaman of Sci-Fi, before staring at eachother. Putting his hand through his long black hair, Smarky sighs; he know this will be the longest business dinner ever.
“What, no “hello”? No shake of the hand?” “Nope, but we do have questions. Like, what did you bring us here for? What is HE doing here? Since when have we been all “official” with eachother?”
Smarky takes these questions in, and they work themselves in to his brain. Taking a deep breath, he begins to answer Ryan's inquiry.
“Well, I called you here, because I have a proposition. I've noticed how you have been getting more and more pissed lately about certain people in EVPW.” “...Yeah...” “And those bastards always run around saying *puts on retarded voice* “HURR HURRRR IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, RUN TO YOUR OWN FED”, right?” “Right...” “Well why don't we kick them in the proverbial nuts. Why don't we call their bluff....
Ryan, why don't we bring back Virtual Wrestling Entertainment.”
Ryan chokes on his drink, and begins to cough and splutter whilst Jared pats him roughly on the back. Finally gaining his breath, Ryan replies.
“Virtual Wrestling....Entertainment? Welll that's.....a big decision..... to make... isn't it?” “Well, in this current climate, no. No it isn't. You see, you aren't the only one that is pissed due to issues revolving EVPW. Look at Stone Orchard, Alex Night, Brian Brooks, Darnez FC, and so on. They are dropping like flies, Ryan, and I want to be their with the jar to pick them up in. Look at it this way, we are NOT the only “traitors” here. You know James Daniels?” “Who?” “Desperado, that hick from Brooklyn or wherever.” “Oh, him. Continue.” “He built up his own company, trying to take down the big boy. We need to beat him to the punch. And we need to do it in style. This is why you are here. I know you were on of the day-to-day runners of VWE, so you would know first hand what goes on. Trust me.... we can be big. Bigger than last time. I mean, look at you now. You are a big time player in the industry, you have more pulling power. This is going to rock the western world! So to speak...”
Ryan lips slowly curl in to a revealing smile, and he slowly nods his head in approval of the plan, before he can say anything, Jaggeroth interjects.
“But this still doesn't explain why I am here. Why am I here?” “Ah, almost forgot about that. Jag-Jared, I know you were in the original incarnation of Virtual, and I know what you can do with younger wrestlers-” “*cough*WOLFIE*cough*” “Now enough of that Ryan. Jared, I have seen you in the Solid Core House of Pain, and I know for a fact that Khan, Daniel Spears, hell- even Grummerson. None of them are jobber fodder now. You trained these kids, man. This is why you are of use to me. So, what do you say. You in?”
The last question was directed to both men, and both men come up with a respective answer.
“HELL YES.”
All three men raise their glasses, and Smarky speaks up.
“Well, here is to a new era. Here is to Virtual Wrestling Entertainment, the rebirth.” All: “CHEERS!”
They each down their drinks, and enjoy the view outside, until a more pressing topic comes up. Jared voices his latest concern to the group.
“Wait. What about a venue? Workers?” “That is all sorted my friend. I have found us a home arena, where all our shows will take place.”
Smarky grabs a piece of paper from his pocket, and unfurls it in front of the two. On closer inspection, the paper seems to be an in-depth map of the USA. Both men look at Smarky with an air of curiosity, but the Smarkster reassures them.
“There is a place I leased in Portland. Rarely used. It's great for what we need. Seats 10,000. Called the “Portland District Arena” or something like that. The workers come with the place, we don't need to pay then. The arena does! So for cleaners, janitors, mechanics, we are sorted.” “What about commentators?” “Well, I managed to round up Joey Mitchell from the old guard, but Gemma......”
Smarky makes a motion, running his finger across his throat, signifying she had died.
“But.... I have a plan. WAITER?”
Ryan and Jared look on, almost dumbstruck. Smarky keeps his calm composure as he speaks to the waiter.
“Well, what is your name?” “Bryan. Why?” “Okay Bryan, do you like it here?” “To be honest, no. The chef's are jackasses, and don't get me started on the-” “How would you like a job which involves ranting incessantly while people fight?” “Awesome!” “Welcome to VWE kid.”
Both Ryan and Jaggeroth bear uneasy looks, but force a smile nonetheless.
“So.... shall we head over there now? It's only the next state over. We should arrive in a matter of hours.” “And a new era begins...”
The three grab their coats, officially drawing the meeting to a close. As they leave the diner, Smarky smiles to himself, knowing this is the best business he has ever made.
EOT
Comment's appreciated.
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