Post by Caleb Lockwood on Oct 29, 2011 19:56:28 GMT -6
We open on Caleb Lockwood sitting across a table from the camera. He’s cleaned up, wearing a nice dark red collared shirt, khaki slacks and a black bowtie. He smiles charmingly at the camera, clearing his throat.
“I bet you’re wondering why I’m out of my usual ‘uniform’, so to speak. Well, it’s simple, really. I’m here because I’m auditioning managers to help me with my pursuit of the Honor Championship. Is this a bit premature, you ask? No, not at all! Because part of that pursuit is my match with Joe Everyman this week at Road to the Gold. No matter who wins, Jonas Potter or Ander Carvetti, I’m going to need more than my own talent and devastating good looks to persevere. Now, in the interest of time, I’ll be cutting out a lot of the chaff so we can get to the good stuff. Now, let’s see who the unlucky individual is who drew number one…”
Fade in on Caleb across the table from no less a person than nCw’s own Jason Dunn. Caleb appears highly skeptical, as Jason is in the middle of an impressive motormouth spiel.
“…let me tell you, Caleb baby, I can take you to the top of the mountain! I know everything there is to know in the field of managing! I studied the greats! Jimmy Hart! Bobby Heenan! Ted DiBiase! J.J. Dillon! Mr. freaking Fuji! You, sir, are looking at one of the greatest students of the game in nCw history! And I promise you, I will settle for nothing less than guiding you, with my veteran instincts, to the tippy-top of the mountain! So whaddya say, Locky my man? Ready to get on board with the Jason Sensation?”
Lockwood stares at him, blinking. He sighs, shaking his head.
“Jason, first off, the Jason Sensation sounds like a venereal disease. Second, I’m not looking for a guy to interfere in my matches for me. I’m looking for someone who can help me in the ring. Give me advice, pointers on how to refine my style…you’re an interviewer. And while I do appreciate your enthusiasm, I don’t think you’re really what I’m looking for. I’ll keep you in mind, though.”
Caleb closes the file. Jason stands, voice taking on a pleading tone.
“Come on, man! I’ll do anything! Secretarial work! House repairs! Personal references! Hell, I’ll do bar mitzvahs! I just need work! I’m begging you, man!”
Lockwood shakes his head, pointing to the door and shouting.
“NEXT!”
The camera cuts to footage of Caleb across the table from, of all people, nCw’s janitor, Jimmy Turner. Caleb smiles brightly as he opens up Jimmy’s folder.
“Hello there Mr. Turner. You’re interested in being my manager?”
Jimmy nods, smiling enthusiastically.
“Yes, that’s right daddy. Jimmy Turner is lookin’ to make an impact in Enn-See-Dubya, and managin’ a strappin’ young buck like yourself is the way to go, bay-bee.”
Caleb chuckles, nodding at Turner.
“Well, I can’t fault you for enthusiasm. Now, Mr. Turner, what experience do you have in the wrestling business? Much in-ring time? Were you an amateur competitor in your school years?”
Jimmy ponders long and hard. After about half a minute, he grins brightly, replying.
“I have wrestled a few times on Collision and Trauma, and when I was a lot slimmer than this roly-poly mountain of man that sits before you today, daddy, I was a wrestler at my high school. State runner-up in my sophomore year, as a matter of fact. I promise, baby, you an’ me, we’ll be goin’ to da pay windah every single week, and you can count on that!”
Caleb nods. So far, it seemed like a more promising endeavor than his previous interview. He squares his shoulders, nodding and managing a smile.
“Okay then. Would you need any special accomodations, Mr. Turner? Anything provided, beyond the normal managerial salary? Y’know, if you want me to head down to the gym for sparring or something each week, maybe we meet over lunch and discuss my opponent…”
Jimmy’s eyes light up at the mention of food, and he nods, unconsciously salivating.
“Ohh yeah, baby. Buffalo wings, piled high to the sky, nacho cheese sauce, deep-fried cheese, deep-fried shrimp, deep-fried lard, every last morsel of artery-clogging goodness, mm, I can taste it right now, baby…yeah, an’ I’ll need a goat for, uh, religious reasons. Yeah, baby. Religious reasons. Gotta have a goat. Mm, sweet goat…”
Caleb looks thoroughly disturbed now, scooting back a bit. He hastily shuffles Jimmy’s papers, nodding to him.
“Wwwelll then, Mr. Turner. I do appreciate you coming in, I’ll think about it, don’t call us, we’ll call you!”
Lockwood stands, practically bumrushing Turner out of the interview room as Jimmy continues fantasizing about his food and his goat. Caleb closes the door, slumping against it and sighing in relief. He walks back over to the desk, sitting down, and groans, calling out.
“NEXT!”
Caleb picks up the next folder, not looking up as the other man enters the room. He tiredly thumbs it open, weariness coming through in his voice.
"Alright then, let's see...Mister...Conway...waitasecond..."
Lockwood looks up to see none other a person than The Ace sitting across the table from himself. Ace flashes his signature million-dollar grin at Lockwood, who's completely taken off guard.
"H...holy crap! Why are you interviewing to be MY manager?"
"I thought it might be fun, besides everybody knows I put young stars on the map, look at what I did for Nathan and now what I'm doing for Verona...lucky for you this is one of my less painful methods..."
Caleb nods nervously at this, forcing a grin.
"Heh...okay, Mr. Ace...should I call you that?"
"Yeah that'll do Lockweed, you know it's nice to finally get a bit of respect around here..."
"Uh, it's Lockwood, sir. And I don't get why you're not respected. You're a former World Champion, National Champion, Tag Team Champion, you've been an impact player since you arrived in nCw and anywhere you go...honestly, the fact that you're even considering this is an honor."
"Finally...somebody who gets it! Now you can understand why I'm here, I knew you had a bright future ahead of you...stick with me kid and soon everybody will know the name of Callum Lockword."
"Caleb Lockwood. And if you're willing, I would be absolutely ready to work with you. Are there any special requests or accomodations you need? Meeting sessions, sparring, any of that?"
"Well since you offered, my wife's cat's litterbox needs cleaning..."
"Uhh..."
Caleb blinks, shaking his head.
"You are aware that I'm interviewing people to be my manager and not to be people's maid, correct, Mr. Ace?"
"Haven't you seen Karate Kid? Wax on, wax off...same principle...the benefits might not be immediately obvious to someone with a closed mind...to the outside observer it'll look like your cleaning a litterbox but really you'll be cleaning the dirt from your soul and achieving enlightenment"
Caleb pops the People's Eyebrow, nodding slowly.
"Ah-huh...right. That's...certainly a thought."
"Some say its unorthodox, I say it's just unconventional."
"...those both mean the same thing..."
"Don't argue with me Lockmould."
"Lockwood, sir. And I'm not arguing, I'm merely pointing out..."
"Look do you want to be a great world champion or a great spelling bee champion...it's not words that make champions in that ring..."
"You're right, sir. Lots of guys have the mouth but not the in-ring chops to back it up. I want to make sure I have both."
"Good, then you know I'm the only smart choice you have."
"You haven't had very stiff competition, to be honest...but yeah, you're right. You're the best I've seen, and I don't know when I'll get another opportunity like this."
"Of course I haven't had any competition kid, I'm The Ace for a reason..."
"You're worth either one or eleven in blackjack?"
Caleb winces, shaking his head.
"Wow, can't believe I let that one slip."
"I do the gambling material around here Lookforward."
"Lo...yes, sir."
"So are you ready to be taken under my wing?"
"I suppose so, sir."
"Good, now go clean Casino's litterbox..."
Caleb mugs for the camera a bit, pulling a Groucho Marx impression.
"The things I do for love..."
He stands, somewhat dejectedly walking off to go do the unenviable job.
We fade back in on Lockwood looking a bit flustered. He sighs, smiling wanly at the camera, and runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head. His hands are a bit raw from repeated washing after the Casino Incident.
“Well, this was far more successful than I ever had hoped it would be. Joe, I’ll see you in the ring at Road to the Gold…I promise you, that number-one contendership WILL be mine. With my natural talents and a World Champion like the Ace to guide me…sky’s the limit, sir. Sky is the limit. So keep your eyes open, Joe…and don’t you blink. You might miss something.”
Fade to black on Caleb shaking his head and grabbing his materials before vacating the premises.
“I bet you’re wondering why I’m out of my usual ‘uniform’, so to speak. Well, it’s simple, really. I’m here because I’m auditioning managers to help me with my pursuit of the Honor Championship. Is this a bit premature, you ask? No, not at all! Because part of that pursuit is my match with Joe Everyman this week at Road to the Gold. No matter who wins, Jonas Potter or Ander Carvetti, I’m going to need more than my own talent and devastating good looks to persevere. Now, in the interest of time, I’ll be cutting out a lot of the chaff so we can get to the good stuff. Now, let’s see who the unlucky individual is who drew number one…”
Fade in on Caleb across the table from no less a person than nCw’s own Jason Dunn. Caleb appears highly skeptical, as Jason is in the middle of an impressive motormouth spiel.
“…let me tell you, Caleb baby, I can take you to the top of the mountain! I know everything there is to know in the field of managing! I studied the greats! Jimmy Hart! Bobby Heenan! Ted DiBiase! J.J. Dillon! Mr. freaking Fuji! You, sir, are looking at one of the greatest students of the game in nCw history! And I promise you, I will settle for nothing less than guiding you, with my veteran instincts, to the tippy-top of the mountain! So whaddya say, Locky my man? Ready to get on board with the Jason Sensation?”
Lockwood stares at him, blinking. He sighs, shaking his head.
“Jason, first off, the Jason Sensation sounds like a venereal disease. Second, I’m not looking for a guy to interfere in my matches for me. I’m looking for someone who can help me in the ring. Give me advice, pointers on how to refine my style…you’re an interviewer. And while I do appreciate your enthusiasm, I don’t think you’re really what I’m looking for. I’ll keep you in mind, though.”
Caleb closes the file. Jason stands, voice taking on a pleading tone.
“Come on, man! I’ll do anything! Secretarial work! House repairs! Personal references! Hell, I’ll do bar mitzvahs! I just need work! I’m begging you, man!”
Lockwood shakes his head, pointing to the door and shouting.
“NEXT!”
The camera cuts to footage of Caleb across the table from, of all people, nCw’s janitor, Jimmy Turner. Caleb smiles brightly as he opens up Jimmy’s folder.
“Hello there Mr. Turner. You’re interested in being my manager?”
Jimmy nods, smiling enthusiastically.
“Yes, that’s right daddy. Jimmy Turner is lookin’ to make an impact in Enn-See-Dubya, and managin’ a strappin’ young buck like yourself is the way to go, bay-bee.”
Caleb chuckles, nodding at Turner.
“Well, I can’t fault you for enthusiasm. Now, Mr. Turner, what experience do you have in the wrestling business? Much in-ring time? Were you an amateur competitor in your school years?”
Jimmy ponders long and hard. After about half a minute, he grins brightly, replying.
“I have wrestled a few times on Collision and Trauma, and when I was a lot slimmer than this roly-poly mountain of man that sits before you today, daddy, I was a wrestler at my high school. State runner-up in my sophomore year, as a matter of fact. I promise, baby, you an’ me, we’ll be goin’ to da pay windah every single week, and you can count on that!”
Caleb nods. So far, it seemed like a more promising endeavor than his previous interview. He squares his shoulders, nodding and managing a smile.
“Okay then. Would you need any special accomodations, Mr. Turner? Anything provided, beyond the normal managerial salary? Y’know, if you want me to head down to the gym for sparring or something each week, maybe we meet over lunch and discuss my opponent…”
Jimmy’s eyes light up at the mention of food, and he nods, unconsciously salivating.
“Ohh yeah, baby. Buffalo wings, piled high to the sky, nacho cheese sauce, deep-fried cheese, deep-fried shrimp, deep-fried lard, every last morsel of artery-clogging goodness, mm, I can taste it right now, baby…yeah, an’ I’ll need a goat for, uh, religious reasons. Yeah, baby. Religious reasons. Gotta have a goat. Mm, sweet goat…”
Caleb looks thoroughly disturbed now, scooting back a bit. He hastily shuffles Jimmy’s papers, nodding to him.
“Wwwelll then, Mr. Turner. I do appreciate you coming in, I’ll think about it, don’t call us, we’ll call you!”
Lockwood stands, practically bumrushing Turner out of the interview room as Jimmy continues fantasizing about his food and his goat. Caleb closes the door, slumping against it and sighing in relief. He walks back over to the desk, sitting down, and groans, calling out.
“NEXT!”
Caleb picks up the next folder, not looking up as the other man enters the room. He tiredly thumbs it open, weariness coming through in his voice.
"Alright then, let's see...Mister...Conway...waitasecond..."
Lockwood looks up to see none other a person than The Ace sitting across the table from himself. Ace flashes his signature million-dollar grin at Lockwood, who's completely taken off guard.
"H...holy crap! Why are you interviewing to be MY manager?"
"I thought it might be fun, besides everybody knows I put young stars on the map, look at what I did for Nathan and now what I'm doing for Verona...lucky for you this is one of my less painful methods..."
Caleb nods nervously at this, forcing a grin.
"Heh...okay, Mr. Ace...should I call you that?"
"Yeah that'll do Lockweed, you know it's nice to finally get a bit of respect around here..."
"Uh, it's Lockwood, sir. And I don't get why you're not respected. You're a former World Champion, National Champion, Tag Team Champion, you've been an impact player since you arrived in nCw and anywhere you go...honestly, the fact that you're even considering this is an honor."
"Finally...somebody who gets it! Now you can understand why I'm here, I knew you had a bright future ahead of you...stick with me kid and soon everybody will know the name of Callum Lockword."
"Caleb Lockwood. And if you're willing, I would be absolutely ready to work with you. Are there any special requests or accomodations you need? Meeting sessions, sparring, any of that?"
"Well since you offered, my wife's cat's litterbox needs cleaning..."
"Uhh..."
Caleb blinks, shaking his head.
"You are aware that I'm interviewing people to be my manager and not to be people's maid, correct, Mr. Ace?"
"Haven't you seen Karate Kid? Wax on, wax off...same principle...the benefits might not be immediately obvious to someone with a closed mind...to the outside observer it'll look like your cleaning a litterbox but really you'll be cleaning the dirt from your soul and achieving enlightenment"
Caleb pops the People's Eyebrow, nodding slowly.
"Ah-huh...right. That's...certainly a thought."
"Some say its unorthodox, I say it's just unconventional."
"...those both mean the same thing..."
"Don't argue with me Lockmould."
"Lockwood, sir. And I'm not arguing, I'm merely pointing out..."
"Look do you want to be a great world champion or a great spelling bee champion...it's not words that make champions in that ring..."
"You're right, sir. Lots of guys have the mouth but not the in-ring chops to back it up. I want to make sure I have both."
"Good, then you know I'm the only smart choice you have."
"You haven't had very stiff competition, to be honest...but yeah, you're right. You're the best I've seen, and I don't know when I'll get another opportunity like this."
"Of course I haven't had any competition kid, I'm The Ace for a reason..."
"You're worth either one or eleven in blackjack?"
Caleb winces, shaking his head.
"Wow, can't believe I let that one slip."
"I do the gambling material around here Lookforward."
"Lo...yes, sir."
"So are you ready to be taken under my wing?"
"I suppose so, sir."
"Good, now go clean Casino's litterbox..."
Caleb mugs for the camera a bit, pulling a Groucho Marx impression.
"The things I do for love..."
He stands, somewhat dejectedly walking off to go do the unenviable job.
We fade back in on Lockwood looking a bit flustered. He sighs, smiling wanly at the camera, and runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head. His hands are a bit raw from repeated washing after the Casino Incident.
“Well, this was far more successful than I ever had hoped it would be. Joe, I’ll see you in the ring at Road to the Gold…I promise you, that number-one contendership WILL be mine. With my natural talents and a World Champion like the Ace to guide me…sky’s the limit, sir. Sky is the limit. So keep your eyes open, Joe…and don’t you blink. You might miss something.”
Fade to black on Caleb shaking his head and grabbing his materials before vacating the premises.
