Post by Hannah Reed on Apr 13, 2013 9:53:09 GMT -6
You’re going to throw away the carnival acts and be original?
Really? Oh gee whiz, I am looking forward to this. It must be something pretty special…
Oh wait, it is just Will Washington repeating the same tired out wrestling clichés that I’ve endured since the first day I became champion. For the benefit of my viewers sanity, because Lord knows I may have lost some of my own, allow me to paraphrase.
I’m having an identity crisis because I’ve run out of credible gimmicks, I’ve dreamed of being the champion since I was a sperm… although I’ve failed spectacularly at every opportunity, woe is me, pause dramatically for sympathy, yadda yadda, something about being really talented but still failing then onto a predictable tirade about how deep down Verona is insecure, nobody really respects him because he is a big mean bully who cheats, compared to every popular name he is a nobody and this Sunday he will lose because at least I am woman enough to admit I suck, end on humbling moment to draw further sympathetic support. End.
If I had a set of scorecards with me the number I’d be hoisting above my head would be much closer to zero than a ten. For somebody who boldly promised from the outset that you’re going to throw away the tired old clichés you sure lathered yourself in a thick layer of them.
You’ve bought into the same tedious fallacy that every other bitter member of this roster has revelled in since the moment I defeated Andrew Jacobsen. That I sold my soul to the devil in a mini skirt to become the NCW World Champion and I’ve only retained my title by cheating every single step of the way.
Yawn.
Let me refresh your memory a little William, when I smacked you in the crown jewels before finishing you off at Crossroads I did so in the face of potentially being struck off with a chair shot, something which is against the rules last time I checked. You can cry wolf all you like about how I’m a dastardly and nefarious cad all you want, but don’t patronise everyone’s intelligence by pretending that only I was playing games now you’re playing the role of the squeaky clean hero.
A role you’ve only settled into because it is a comfortable one for anybody who is my opponent.
And therein lies the problem, William, you’ve purported to be keeping things original yet you’ve played this just as safely as anybody else. You’ve trotted out the same sort of bull**** I’d expect from guys like Steve Awesome and the rest of the league of zeros whose heads are so far up their own asses you could perhaps excuse them for missing the moment that I surpassed anything they ever accomplished.
You’ve relied on the same old wrestling tropes that have existed since day one.
When a “bad guy” achieves something remarkable, run it down and put it down to cowardice and manipulation of the rules, when pandering to the crowd play the humility card and be deeply respectful of the icons they all adore and my favourite, “I’ve wanted this since I was a kid”.
I’ve sat here all week hoping to hear something genuinelly original from you, praying you’d break the boundaries everybody else rudimentarily stays within because they’re frightened of breaking the mould a little and taking some risks for a potentially big pay off, yet just like every other time you’ve shown a little promise all you’ve provided is disappointment.
I don’t want to listen to you roll out predictable little sound bites Will, I want to see some fire in your eyes and some real conviction in your voice instead of just watching you make the same mistakes everybody else has.
Stop pandering to the egos of jackasses like Steve, Lance and Falcon and ramming your head so far up their asses you’re practically wearing them because you’re a “goody” and enter the real world, start addressing the reality and show me that you’re not just some other joker I’ve afford a second chance. I was stung by giving Laszlo enough opportunities.
It doesn’t matter if the legions of bitter old men don’t view my title reign as exceptional, we both know they’d never give credit to anybody who eclipsed their achievements. All that matters is that you accept it for what it is, the longest reign in company history. Burying it beneath a thirty day title reign of Gibford Famularo does nothing for you, pretending like it is meaningless only belittles any glory you could take from ending it.
You might view it as me simply blowing my own trumpet but nothing I’ve said isn’t anything other than a fact.
The more you demean me and my accomplishments Will, the worse you’re going to look when I beat you and if by some miracle you do manage to win, it won’t look like an accomplishment, after all, you just squashed the bug that is inferior to all the other legends, right?
Make no mistake Washington, if you end my streak this Sunday, it is a far bigger accomplishment than any of the men you mentioned ever managed to accomplish.
So how about next time William you don’t insult my intelligence, you don’t treat the fans like idiots and you actually grow a set of balls and take a few risks in what you have to say to me because if all you’re going to do is trot out the same old bull**** I’ve heard a million times don’t even bother to waste our time.
This is your final chance to grasp a little of the limelight for yourself, stop treating it as an opportunity to be lazy and simply fit into the same old mould of the cookie cutter veteran seeking redemption against the loud mouthed newcomer.
If you waste this for the sake of getting a few predictably cheap digs in you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life. You could be the man to end the greatest championship reign in history against one of the best wrestlers to ever grace the ring.
Stop pretending you’re wrestling a charlatan with a throw away run at the top and start to appreciate the opportunity you’ve been afforded, one that so many other’s deserve ahead of you.
It is the last one you’ll ever have.
Contraversy.
She is the mistress who I have courted since the moment I entered this company. In so many of my most defining moments she and I have been uncomfortable bedfellows and yet, despite the fact I know she is nothing but bad for my reputation, I still embrace her.
Yet, I will never regret bathing myself in infamy in what should have been my finest hour.
I shook the hand of the devil herself back in October, not for my own benefit, but for everybody else’s, something which is greatly forgotten when the scaffolds have been routinely erected to wring my neck, although I have escaped by the skin of my teeth time and time again.
Not only was it a defining moment in the history of this company, one which will be remembered for eternity, it was the beginning of the end of the dominance of the old guard.
People can blame me for the “demise” of the company all they like, although they do it from a position of ignorance, but since I joined up with Kelly Fox you cannot deny that there has been a refreshing air wafting through the halls of NCW, one which has ensured that the final ever show is about those of us who've been here the whole year, not just the returning "heroes".
Men like Mike Laszlo and Will Washington have been afforded the opportunity to shine on the biggest stages of all, the Coliseum is comprised entirely of men who have never had the opportunity to wear this prestigious belt around their waists and have the chance to main event a pay per view you’d otherwise expect to be dominated by returning parasites whilst people like Jake Conway have finally got the recognition they deserve and the true legends of the company like Adam Knite have taken a step back to mentor the youth movement.
Compared to the state this company was in a year ago when we had to sit and watch the same old people strangle the spotlight continuously this is a practical nirvana.
Even though I have been world champion for an unprecedented 167 days as I speak, I haven’t spent my entire time hogging the top spot, I’ve repeatedly sat back and allowed other people the opportunity to shine.
For all of my ego, something I’ve never denied, I’ve done more for the rest of the roster than any other champion in history. When the legend of old reached the top, they didn’t spend their entire time working hard to give everybody else their chance at etching their names in history, they just wallowed in their own pompous sense of superiority.
Men like Will and Mike would never have been afforded the chances they’ve enjoyed thus far, Jake Conway would still be treated like a joke and the National title would has sunk further into insignificance.
Whether you like to admit it or not, I’ve been nothing but good for NCW.
The only reason I don’t ever get the credit I deserve is because I rarely seek it. You never see the work I do behind the scenes publicised because I play the role of the villain and I respect the need to preserve the aura of believability. You hear about me and Kelly visiting Trent Helms after he collapsed and nearly died immediately after the show a week ago because we don’t need to boast about simply doing the right thing.
Everyone sees the man I play on the screen and they never scrape beneath the surface. It suits their agendas to look at me as the egomaniacal personification of Satan himself as they continue to dehumanise me on a weekly basis.
Yet underneath all this, I am still the same man who sacrifices spending time with the woman he loves to toil for all of your benefit. I am still the same man who is going out there every work and working hurt because I love this business and I want people to be entertained by everything I do. I am still the man who has sacrificed everything for everyone else’s benefit knowing full well I will never be given so much as a thank you for it.
And is that what I am looking for now?
No, that isn’t my style. I am not tell you all this because I am looking for sympathy, it is the path I personally chose to take, I am telling you all this to make a point that deep down behind all of the smoke and mirrors we reside behind in this business at the end of the day, we’re all just human beings.
Which brings me squarely to you Will.
Underneath all of the bravado I know that deep down you’re still that starry eyed dreamer you were when you entered this business and you won’t feel satisfied with yourself until you have fulfilled what you believe you potential is and we both know that in your eyes, that is becoming the NCW World Champion.
It is the dream we all had when we became wrestlers and it is one few of us get to achieve and when you strip us down to our base selves that is what separates you and I. I have never, and will never, deny that you are a talented wrestler Will, if you weren’t I wouldn’t be giving you a second chance. You’ve proven that you deserve the opportunity to have the chances you’ve been given on talent alone.
I can see in your eyes that you’re determined to make sure you do not mess up that last opportunity at greatness, under everything you’re just a man who is desperate to validate himself in the eyes of all of those who have believed in him for all of these years.
But you’re getting in the ring with a man who is within touching distance of accomplishing his own dreams, a man who has proven time and time again that whatever the odds, whatever the challenge, I’ve had everything required to overcome them.
The last great champion this company will ever witness.
This weekend I face perhaps my biggest test of all against a man I know will be giving his all because unlike every other match, we all know the end is nigh. There will be no re-matches, no chance to regroup and come back stronger in a few months’ time. When the bell tolls the winner will stand tall knowing that he has booked his place on the most sought after stage in the history of this business.
This is the end.
Just two men and one ring.
No more seconds chances.
I have to make this one count.
One last time.
Really? Oh gee whiz, I am looking forward to this. It must be something pretty special…
Oh wait, it is just Will Washington repeating the same tired out wrestling clichés that I’ve endured since the first day I became champion. For the benefit of my viewers sanity, because Lord knows I may have lost some of my own, allow me to paraphrase.
I’m having an identity crisis because I’ve run out of credible gimmicks, I’ve dreamed of being the champion since I was a sperm… although I’ve failed spectacularly at every opportunity, woe is me, pause dramatically for sympathy, yadda yadda, something about being really talented but still failing then onto a predictable tirade about how deep down Verona is insecure, nobody really respects him because he is a big mean bully who cheats, compared to every popular name he is a nobody and this Sunday he will lose because at least I am woman enough to admit I suck, end on humbling moment to draw further sympathetic support. End.
If I had a set of scorecards with me the number I’d be hoisting above my head would be much closer to zero than a ten. For somebody who boldly promised from the outset that you’re going to throw away the tired old clichés you sure lathered yourself in a thick layer of them.
You’ve bought into the same tedious fallacy that every other bitter member of this roster has revelled in since the moment I defeated Andrew Jacobsen. That I sold my soul to the devil in a mini skirt to become the NCW World Champion and I’ve only retained my title by cheating every single step of the way.
Yawn.
Let me refresh your memory a little William, when I smacked you in the crown jewels before finishing you off at Crossroads I did so in the face of potentially being struck off with a chair shot, something which is against the rules last time I checked. You can cry wolf all you like about how I’m a dastardly and nefarious cad all you want, but don’t patronise everyone’s intelligence by pretending that only I was playing games now you’re playing the role of the squeaky clean hero.
A role you’ve only settled into because it is a comfortable one for anybody who is my opponent.
And therein lies the problem, William, you’ve purported to be keeping things original yet you’ve played this just as safely as anybody else. You’ve trotted out the same sort of bull**** I’d expect from guys like Steve Awesome and the rest of the league of zeros whose heads are so far up their own asses you could perhaps excuse them for missing the moment that I surpassed anything they ever accomplished.
You’ve relied on the same old wrestling tropes that have existed since day one.
When a “bad guy” achieves something remarkable, run it down and put it down to cowardice and manipulation of the rules, when pandering to the crowd play the humility card and be deeply respectful of the icons they all adore and my favourite, “I’ve wanted this since I was a kid”.
I’ve sat here all week hoping to hear something genuinelly original from you, praying you’d break the boundaries everybody else rudimentarily stays within because they’re frightened of breaking the mould a little and taking some risks for a potentially big pay off, yet just like every other time you’ve shown a little promise all you’ve provided is disappointment.
I don’t want to listen to you roll out predictable little sound bites Will, I want to see some fire in your eyes and some real conviction in your voice instead of just watching you make the same mistakes everybody else has.
Stop pandering to the egos of jackasses like Steve, Lance and Falcon and ramming your head so far up their asses you’re practically wearing them because you’re a “goody” and enter the real world, start addressing the reality and show me that you’re not just some other joker I’ve afford a second chance. I was stung by giving Laszlo enough opportunities.
It doesn’t matter if the legions of bitter old men don’t view my title reign as exceptional, we both know they’d never give credit to anybody who eclipsed their achievements. All that matters is that you accept it for what it is, the longest reign in company history. Burying it beneath a thirty day title reign of Gibford Famularo does nothing for you, pretending like it is meaningless only belittles any glory you could take from ending it.
You might view it as me simply blowing my own trumpet but nothing I’ve said isn’t anything other than a fact.
The more you demean me and my accomplishments Will, the worse you’re going to look when I beat you and if by some miracle you do manage to win, it won’t look like an accomplishment, after all, you just squashed the bug that is inferior to all the other legends, right?
Make no mistake Washington, if you end my streak this Sunday, it is a far bigger accomplishment than any of the men you mentioned ever managed to accomplish.
So how about next time William you don’t insult my intelligence, you don’t treat the fans like idiots and you actually grow a set of balls and take a few risks in what you have to say to me because if all you’re going to do is trot out the same old bull**** I’ve heard a million times don’t even bother to waste our time.
This is your final chance to grasp a little of the limelight for yourself, stop treating it as an opportunity to be lazy and simply fit into the same old mould of the cookie cutter veteran seeking redemption against the loud mouthed newcomer.
If you waste this for the sake of getting a few predictably cheap digs in you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life. You could be the man to end the greatest championship reign in history against one of the best wrestlers to ever grace the ring.
Stop pretending you’re wrestling a charlatan with a throw away run at the top and start to appreciate the opportunity you’ve been afforded, one that so many other’s deserve ahead of you.
It is the last one you’ll ever have.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A light flickers, electrical sparks spitting out from the wall it is affixed to inside the dark storage area deep beneath the headquarters of New championship Wrestling. In a dimly lit corner we can see the figure of Roberto Verona, nervously pacing back and forth as he wallows in his solitude until suddenly a female figure approaches from behind a storage unit, though he face remains shrouded in darkness as Roberto turns to face her.
Oh, Berto, I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me.
Isabella, how could I possibly forget about you?
You know, if your little lady friend overheard us right now she may get a little jealous…
You and I both know there isn’t anything for her to be jealous about.
Oh, I could think of a few things.
Isabella runs a finger seductively up Verona’s chest who simply shakes his head.
Where is Bernard?
B? He’s seeing the big guy.
Why?
Isabella shrugs.
Beats me, but when he calls, we go running, no questions asked. You know the deal.
Of course I know the deal, I made it.
Then you need to relax Berto…unless of course being alone with me makes you nervous?
Isabella giggle and tilets her head playfully.
Do I make you nervous, Mr Verona?
Isabella takes a few steps further forward until her face is only a few inches away from Roberto’s.
Honestly, if I had any bunnies I’d be fairly wary of letting you pet them in the kitchen.
Isabella lets out a burst of laughter, pushing herself a few feet away again.
I’ve missed this Berto. Just you and me, trading niceties.
Yeah I am having a whale of a time, I didn’t call you here so you could rub up and down against me like a gazelle in heat.
There was a time when that is all you called me for....
Isabella….Izzy…please, this is serious.
Oh, fine, let’s get straight to business. Killjoy.
Thank you. We don’t have very long and if we don’t get this right then everything will fall apart.
You worry far too much, everything is being taken care of. You have followed through with your part of the bargain and we’ll fulfil ours.
And how can I trust you?
Isabella shurgs.
You can’t.
That’s reassuring.
Then you’ve just got to have faith.
I have faith in myself.
Then you need to just give me a little…
Then you need to show me some evidence, something more tangible than promises. I’ve had multiple people make me multiple promises and they got me nowhere.
You’ll get what you need, I always follow through.
Just make sure you do.
When have I ever left you disappointed?
You’re insatiable.
And you’ve been domesticated.
Isabella slowly slinks past Roberto before turning and ceremoniously spanking him on the ass before walking out of the room.
See you later tiger.
Roberto sighs and shakes his head.
You’re just a glutton for punishment, aren’t you Verona?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A light flickers, electrical sparks spitting out from the wall it is affixed to inside the dark storage area deep beneath the headquarters of New championship Wrestling. In a dimly lit corner we can see the figure of Roberto Verona, nervously pacing back and forth as he wallows in his solitude until suddenly a female figure approaches from behind a storage unit, though he face remains shrouded in darkness as Roberto turns to face her.
Oh, Berto, I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me.
Isabella, how could I possibly forget about you?
You know, if your little lady friend overheard us right now she may get a little jealous…
You and I both know there isn’t anything for her to be jealous about.
Oh, I could think of a few things.
Isabella runs a finger seductively up Verona’s chest who simply shakes his head.
Where is Bernard?
B? He’s seeing the big guy.
Why?
Isabella shrugs.
Beats me, but when he calls, we go running, no questions asked. You know the deal.
Of course I know the deal, I made it.
Then you need to relax Berto…unless of course being alone with me makes you nervous?
Isabella giggle and tilets her head playfully.
Do I make you nervous, Mr Verona?
Isabella takes a few steps further forward until her face is only a few inches away from Roberto’s.
Honestly, if I had any bunnies I’d be fairly wary of letting you pet them in the kitchen.
Isabella lets out a burst of laughter, pushing herself a few feet away again.
I’ve missed this Berto. Just you and me, trading niceties.
Yeah I am having a whale of a time, I didn’t call you here so you could rub up and down against me like a gazelle in heat.
There was a time when that is all you called me for....
Isabella….Izzy…please, this is serious.
Oh, fine, let’s get straight to business. Killjoy.
Thank you. We don’t have very long and if we don’t get this right then everything will fall apart.
You worry far too much, everything is being taken care of. You have followed through with your part of the bargain and we’ll fulfil ours.
And how can I trust you?
Isabella shurgs.
You can’t.
That’s reassuring.
Then you’ve just got to have faith.
I have faith in myself.
Then you need to just give me a little…
Then you need to show me some evidence, something more tangible than promises. I’ve had multiple people make me multiple promises and they got me nowhere.
You’ll get what you need, I always follow through.
Just make sure you do.
When have I ever left you disappointed?
You’re insatiable.
And you’ve been domesticated.
Isabella slowly slinks past Roberto before turning and ceremoniously spanking him on the ass before walking out of the room.
See you later tiger.
Roberto sighs and shakes his head.
You’re just a glutton for punishment, aren’t you Verona?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Contraversy.
She is the mistress who I have courted since the moment I entered this company. In so many of my most defining moments she and I have been uncomfortable bedfellows and yet, despite the fact I know she is nothing but bad for my reputation, I still embrace her.
Yet, I will never regret bathing myself in infamy in what should have been my finest hour.
I shook the hand of the devil herself back in October, not for my own benefit, but for everybody else’s, something which is greatly forgotten when the scaffolds have been routinely erected to wring my neck, although I have escaped by the skin of my teeth time and time again.
Not only was it a defining moment in the history of this company, one which will be remembered for eternity, it was the beginning of the end of the dominance of the old guard.
People can blame me for the “demise” of the company all they like, although they do it from a position of ignorance, but since I joined up with Kelly Fox you cannot deny that there has been a refreshing air wafting through the halls of NCW, one which has ensured that the final ever show is about those of us who've been here the whole year, not just the returning "heroes".
Men like Mike Laszlo and Will Washington have been afforded the opportunity to shine on the biggest stages of all, the Coliseum is comprised entirely of men who have never had the opportunity to wear this prestigious belt around their waists and have the chance to main event a pay per view you’d otherwise expect to be dominated by returning parasites whilst people like Jake Conway have finally got the recognition they deserve and the true legends of the company like Adam Knite have taken a step back to mentor the youth movement.
Compared to the state this company was in a year ago when we had to sit and watch the same old people strangle the spotlight continuously this is a practical nirvana.
Even though I have been world champion for an unprecedented 167 days as I speak, I haven’t spent my entire time hogging the top spot, I’ve repeatedly sat back and allowed other people the opportunity to shine.
For all of my ego, something I’ve never denied, I’ve done more for the rest of the roster than any other champion in history. When the legend of old reached the top, they didn’t spend their entire time working hard to give everybody else their chance at etching their names in history, they just wallowed in their own pompous sense of superiority.
Men like Will and Mike would never have been afforded the chances they’ve enjoyed thus far, Jake Conway would still be treated like a joke and the National title would has sunk further into insignificance.
Whether you like to admit it or not, I’ve been nothing but good for NCW.
The only reason I don’t ever get the credit I deserve is because I rarely seek it. You never see the work I do behind the scenes publicised because I play the role of the villain and I respect the need to preserve the aura of believability. You hear about me and Kelly visiting Trent Helms after he collapsed and nearly died immediately after the show a week ago because we don’t need to boast about simply doing the right thing.
Everyone sees the man I play on the screen and they never scrape beneath the surface. It suits their agendas to look at me as the egomaniacal personification of Satan himself as they continue to dehumanise me on a weekly basis.
Yet underneath all this, I am still the same man who sacrifices spending time with the woman he loves to toil for all of your benefit. I am still the same man who is going out there every work and working hurt because I love this business and I want people to be entertained by everything I do. I am still the man who has sacrificed everything for everyone else’s benefit knowing full well I will never be given so much as a thank you for it.
And is that what I am looking for now?
No, that isn’t my style. I am not tell you all this because I am looking for sympathy, it is the path I personally chose to take, I am telling you all this to make a point that deep down behind all of the smoke and mirrors we reside behind in this business at the end of the day, we’re all just human beings.
Which brings me squarely to you Will.
Underneath all of the bravado I know that deep down you’re still that starry eyed dreamer you were when you entered this business and you won’t feel satisfied with yourself until you have fulfilled what you believe you potential is and we both know that in your eyes, that is becoming the NCW World Champion.
It is the dream we all had when we became wrestlers and it is one few of us get to achieve and when you strip us down to our base selves that is what separates you and I. I have never, and will never, deny that you are a talented wrestler Will, if you weren’t I wouldn’t be giving you a second chance. You’ve proven that you deserve the opportunity to have the chances you’ve been given on talent alone.
I can see in your eyes that you’re determined to make sure you do not mess up that last opportunity at greatness, under everything you’re just a man who is desperate to validate himself in the eyes of all of those who have believed in him for all of these years.
But you’re getting in the ring with a man who is within touching distance of accomplishing his own dreams, a man who has proven time and time again that whatever the odds, whatever the challenge, I’ve had everything required to overcome them.
The last great champion this company will ever witness.
This weekend I face perhaps my biggest test of all against a man I know will be giving his all because unlike every other match, we all know the end is nigh. There will be no re-matches, no chance to regroup and come back stronger in a few months’ time. When the bell tolls the winner will stand tall knowing that he has booked his place on the most sought after stage in the history of this business.
This is the end.
Just two men and one ring.
No more seconds chances.
I have to make this one count.
One last time.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roberto and Hannah sit in total silence, cuddled up together on a couch as a fire burns a few feet away. In Roberto’s hand is a book, his final piece of escapism before he embarks upon the biggest night of his career to date, though he seems more distant than usual. Hannah looks up at him, a look of concern swiftly rushing across her face as her female intuition begins to tingle, sensing that something is wrong. Pushing herself up she looks at Roberto, who remains seemingly engrossed in his book.
What’s the matter?
Nothing.
Come on, we’ve been together long enough for you to know you can’t fool me and when you try I will just keep pestering you until you tell me anyway so why don’t you do yourself and just spit it out.
Roberto signs, placing his book down beside him.
Fine.
Wise decision. So, come on, spill.
For the first time in a long time I am worried that I have lost control.
Of what?
The future.
Hannah rolls her eyes.
You’re not God, Roberto. You can’t control everything.
Not everything, but I’ve always had a handle on the variables.
Are you worried about Will?
Not at all.
Then what is it?
Nothing.
Hannah’s tone suddenly shifts from understanding to disapproving.
Roberto.
Fine…fine….
Verona lets out a reluctant sigh before turning to look at Hannah.
What if I told you I made a deal.
What sort of deal?
A deal to ensure that everything I’ve worked so hard to build would come to fruition.
I’m not quite sure I get where you going with this but… I’d say it was a pretty smart business decision?
But what if you lost control?
Hannah cocks an eyebrow.
Lost control? Roberto, I don’t understand…
It doesn’t matter.
No, it does, if something is bothering you I don’t want to see you like this, it isn’t like you.
That’s sweet.
Hannah rolls her eyes and tilts her head disapprovingly.
Stop changing the subject. What have you done?
It is to do with the gift Kelly gave me…
What did you do?
I made a deal, a few months ago, to secure investment into the future of New Championship Wrestling.
But…you didn’t know what Kelly planned to do?
Precisely.
Hannah shakes her head in confusion.
Roberto, you’re confusing me. Do you mean you made a deal before Kelly told you about ceasing broadcasting?
In a nutshell, only the landscape changed and so did the deal.
And now you’re afraid things may be getting out of control?
Let’s just say come this Sunday I don’t know what is going to happen beyond my match and that… disturbs me. As for anything beyond that...
Forget about later, let’s just concentrate on Sunday. What sort deal did you make exactly?
Well...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roberto and Hannah sit in total silence, cuddled up together on a couch as a fire burns a few feet away. In Roberto’s hand is a book, his final piece of escapism before he embarks upon the biggest night of his career to date, though he seems more distant than usual. Hannah looks up at him, a look of concern swiftly rushing across her face as her female intuition begins to tingle, sensing that something is wrong. Pushing herself up she looks at Roberto, who remains seemingly engrossed in his book.
What’s the matter?
Nothing.
Come on, we’ve been together long enough for you to know you can’t fool me and when you try I will just keep pestering you until you tell me anyway so why don’t you do yourself and just spit it out.
Roberto signs, placing his book down beside him.
Fine.
Wise decision. So, come on, spill.
For the first time in a long time I am worried that I have lost control.
Of what?
The future.
Hannah rolls her eyes.
You’re not God, Roberto. You can’t control everything.
Not everything, but I’ve always had a handle on the variables.
Are you worried about Will?
Not at all.
Then what is it?
Nothing.
Hannah’s tone suddenly shifts from understanding to disapproving.
Roberto.
Fine…fine….
Verona lets out a reluctant sigh before turning to look at Hannah.
What if I told you I made a deal.
What sort of deal?
A deal to ensure that everything I’ve worked so hard to build would come to fruition.
I’m not quite sure I get where you going with this but… I’d say it was a pretty smart business decision?
But what if you lost control?
Hannah cocks an eyebrow.
Lost control? Roberto, I don’t understand…
It doesn’t matter.
No, it does, if something is bothering you I don’t want to see you like this, it isn’t like you.
That’s sweet.
Hannah rolls her eyes and tilts her head disapprovingly.
Stop changing the subject. What have you done?
It is to do with the gift Kelly gave me…
What did you do?
I made a deal, a few months ago, to secure investment into the future of New Championship Wrestling.
But…you didn’t know what Kelly planned to do?
Precisely.
Hannah shakes her head in confusion.
Roberto, you’re confusing me. Do you mean you made a deal before Kelly told you about ceasing broadcasting?
In a nutshell, only the landscape changed and so did the deal.
And now you’re afraid things may be getting out of control?
Let’s just say come this Sunday I don’t know what is going to happen beyond my match and that… disturbs me. As for anything beyond that...
Forget about later, let’s just concentrate on Sunday. What sort deal did you make exactly?
Well...
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