Post by WBL on Apr 13, 2011 18:53:57 GMT
We see a newscast. An attractive anchor sits behind a news desk.
Anchor: In other news, after an explosion at one of their refineries in Texas resulted in the deaths of twenty workers, along with the contamination of the local ecology, Legend Petro has once again fallen under scrutiny by both the United States government and the Environmental Protection Agency. LP's CEO, William Legend and his Vice President of Operations, Philip Furrow have been ordered to attend a congressional hearing before the Senate at the end of next month. Until then, Legend Petro has been ordered to shut down all operations. Vice President Furrow had this to say...
We cut to a video of Furrow hurriedly being escorted out of a large office building by armed security. A massive crowd is formed outside the building and immediately begins booing and throwing bottles, rotten fruit, etc. as soon as Furrow makes an appearance. Reporters on the scene also begin barraging him with questions, most of which are lost amongst the babble. Furrow speaks hurriedly as he is escorted toward his limo, ducking a bottle. He seems as angry as the protestors.
Furrow: Yeah, we all want answers. I can assure you, Mr. Legend has just as much to answer for to me as he does to all of you.
We cut back to the anchor.
Anchor: Legend himself has gone into seclusion in his estate in Houston and was unavailable for comment.
~*~ Elsewhere ~*~
A darkened hallway within WBL's palatial estate. Leaning against the wall outside a massive pair of oak double doors is Azmodai. He looks bored. A voice suddenly cuts through the silence.
Voice: Is he in there?
Azmodai looks up. Standing in the hallway, is WBL's niece, Kylie. She looks rather pleased with herself. Azmodai nods, half-grinning himself.
Azmodai: Yes'm. He's been in there yelling at December for about an hour now. She wants him to give a statement for all this shit goin' down with the exploding refinery. I think ol' Billy feels he has better things to do with his time than explain himself to the masses.
Kylie: Being that monster's publicist must be hell.
Azmodai grins.
Azmodai: Aw, now is that any way to talk about your uncle?
Kylie glowers at him.
Kylie: Lest you forget, Azmodai, my uncle once whipped me with a belt until I couldn't move in front of tens of thousands of people on live television just to make a point to one of his enemies. And, as I recall, you were the one that held me down.
Azmodai chuckles.
Azmodai: Oh, yeah. Good times.
Kylie glares at him a few moments longer before leaning against the wall next to him.
Kylie: Ya know, I get why December is such a bootlicker. She's dumber than hell and I think she's just too afraid of him to quit. What I don't get is why you're so loyal to him.
Azmodai's grin slowly fades and he stares straight ahead as he considers Kylie's question. Finally, he just shakes his head.
Azmodai: That, kiddo, is a much longer story than we have time for.
Kylie: I've got time.
Azmodai looks over at her now, raising an eyebrow.
Azmodai: Not enough time, trust me. Let's just say it involves something his dad did for my kin way back in the day. What about you? I still ain't never figured out why you stick around. Or why he lets you.
Kylie: He lets me stick around because he wants to break me. He wants me to wind up either a bootlicker like December or an institutionalized psycho like my mom. I stick around to prove that he can't do either.
Azmodai shakes his head.
Azmodai: You fuckin' Legends and your stubbornness. All any of you wanna do is prove that you're better than each other. It's the fuckin' family tradition, eh?
Before Kylie can reply again, the double doors suddenly swing open with a boom. An exasperated (and visibly shaken) December Green steps out into the hallway.
December: He wants to speak with both ya'll...
Azmodai again raises an eyebrow.
Well, this should be entertaining...
The two step into WBL's office. It's a massive, darkened chamber. Huge bookshelves line the walls. A massive desk is sprawled before a wall length window. To elegant, red velvet curtains are pulled back on either side of the window, revealing the nightsky and Houston skyline beyond. WBL stands, his back to December, Azmodai, and Kylie, his hands clasped behind his back, staring out the window. Azmodai loudly and obnoxiously clears his throat.
Azmodai: You wanted to see us, bossman?
WBL doesn't turn to face them.
WBL: Pack your bags. We're leaving for the Arena tonight. I've got a match tomorrow and I'm not missing it.
December rolls her eyes.
December: I still can't believe that you're plannin' on-
WBL: December.
December's eyes go wide and she immediately shuts her mouth. She knows she's overstepped her boundaries. Azmodai, meanwhile, just shakes his head again, his grin never faltering.
Azmodai: And he remains unbowed, even in the face of such adversity. If anyone in the FWF is deserving of the title of Warrior, it's you, boss. Or at least a stubborn son of a bitch. I was just telling Kylie here about how endearing of a family trait that is.
WBL finally turns to face his entourage.
WBL: Adversity? Is that how you view this? This incident with my company? This isn't adveristy, Azmodai. It never has been. Legend Petro is all powerful. We are above the law. We always have been and we always will be. We survived the incident with the tankers, we survived the incident with the undersea pipeline, and we'll survive this annoying business with the refinery. It's nothing. We have all the right people in all the right places. My dominance over this world, the world of business, of controlling the world through industry is absolute. It always has been. I have nothing to prove here and I never will. The congressional hearing will go my way and Legend Petro will reopen. This isn't adversity. It's a vacation. It's a reprieve.
Kylie raises her eyebrows now.
Kylie: Oh, I've gotta hear this.
WBL: I have been gone from the FWF for a very long time. Once, many years ago, my grip over it was as tight as my grip over the world of industry. I had nothing to prove because everyone could see, no matter how badly they wished to deny it, that I was the most dominant athlete out there. That I was the pinnacle of what being an FWF warrior was. True, I had a few missteps, against wastes of humanity like that idiot Pain... but those could only occur when the deck was stacked against me. The FWF has always been afraid of me. Of how powerful I'd become. So they insured, through whatever means they had at their disposal, that I would never win when it mattered most. But that was through no fault of my own.
WBL steps away from the window and moves around the side of the desk toward the three.
WBL: I even bought the place out in an attempt to level the playing field, but the FWF couldn't except that, so once again they wedged their peon, puppet Pain into the mix. So I did what I had to to regroup. I liquidated my assets, and put the company into a state of dormancy. But now I am ready. I am ready to make my return and show the world that I'm as powerful as I ever was. And the poor bastard that will be made an example of.... is Marcus Thomas Brody.
WBL shakes his head.
WBL: It's sad that the FWF feels they need to try to indigify me like this by putting me into the ring against some clownish nobody that I've never heard of.
Kylie glares at him.
Kylie: Ya know, Uncle Bill, you can pretend not to know who he is all you want, but the man IS a tag team champion and he IS the son of an FWF legend. I know you think you're above knowing who these people are, but really it just makes you look ignorant.
WBL: (feigning ignorance.) FWF legend? Who?
Kylie: Marcus Brody.
WBL: Oh... him. FWF legend, huh? I've been in the ring with so-called FWF legends before, and I've neatly disposed of each of them at one time or another. Predator. Pain. Hell, Marcus Brody doesn't even ring a bell to me. If that's what it means to be an FWF legend, then the FWF is even more pathetic than I thought. And that's saying something. So, this Brody kid is the son of some hot shot legend, eh? And that means what? He may be a legend, but I AM Legend! I don't care who you are or where you came from. It proves nothing. So he's a tag team champion? Well, that will be changing soon enough. When Benny Starr, the only other warrior besides me in the FWF who isn't completely worthless, and myself square off against Brody and the grandson of an even bigger loser, James Stall at Genesis, those titles will be ours.
Azmodai fakes a shudder.
Azmodai: Man, you seen that wife of Starr's. Sweet Jesus...
WBL ignores him.
WBL: This incident with the refinery will do nothing but give me the chance to focus on what NEEDS to be focused on. Making an example of Brody... and taking the first step toward ushering in the one true WBL Era... by capturing FWF gold at Genesis. Now... all of you... pack your bags. We're leaving tonight. End of discussion.
And with that, WBL trudges out of the room, leaving Kylie, Azmodai, and December standing in silence.
Anchor: In other news, after an explosion at one of their refineries in Texas resulted in the deaths of twenty workers, along with the contamination of the local ecology, Legend Petro has once again fallen under scrutiny by both the United States government and the Environmental Protection Agency. LP's CEO, William Legend and his Vice President of Operations, Philip Furrow have been ordered to attend a congressional hearing before the Senate at the end of next month. Until then, Legend Petro has been ordered to shut down all operations. Vice President Furrow had this to say...
We cut to a video of Furrow hurriedly being escorted out of a large office building by armed security. A massive crowd is formed outside the building and immediately begins booing and throwing bottles, rotten fruit, etc. as soon as Furrow makes an appearance. Reporters on the scene also begin barraging him with questions, most of which are lost amongst the babble. Furrow speaks hurriedly as he is escorted toward his limo, ducking a bottle. He seems as angry as the protestors.
Furrow: Yeah, we all want answers. I can assure you, Mr. Legend has just as much to answer for to me as he does to all of you.
We cut back to the anchor.
Anchor: Legend himself has gone into seclusion in his estate in Houston and was unavailable for comment.
~*~ Elsewhere ~*~
A darkened hallway within WBL's palatial estate. Leaning against the wall outside a massive pair of oak double doors is Azmodai. He looks bored. A voice suddenly cuts through the silence.
Voice: Is he in there?
Azmodai looks up. Standing in the hallway, is WBL's niece, Kylie. She looks rather pleased with herself. Azmodai nods, half-grinning himself.
Azmodai: Yes'm. He's been in there yelling at December for about an hour now. She wants him to give a statement for all this shit goin' down with the exploding refinery. I think ol' Billy feels he has better things to do with his time than explain himself to the masses.
Kylie: Being that monster's publicist must be hell.
Azmodai grins.
Azmodai: Aw, now is that any way to talk about your uncle?
Kylie glowers at him.
Kylie: Lest you forget, Azmodai, my uncle once whipped me with a belt until I couldn't move in front of tens of thousands of people on live television just to make a point to one of his enemies. And, as I recall, you were the one that held me down.
Azmodai chuckles.
Azmodai: Oh, yeah. Good times.
Kylie glares at him a few moments longer before leaning against the wall next to him.
Kylie: Ya know, I get why December is such a bootlicker. She's dumber than hell and I think she's just too afraid of him to quit. What I don't get is why you're so loyal to him.
Azmodai's grin slowly fades and he stares straight ahead as he considers Kylie's question. Finally, he just shakes his head.
Azmodai: That, kiddo, is a much longer story than we have time for.
Kylie: I've got time.
Azmodai looks over at her now, raising an eyebrow.
Azmodai: Not enough time, trust me. Let's just say it involves something his dad did for my kin way back in the day. What about you? I still ain't never figured out why you stick around. Or why he lets you.
Kylie: He lets me stick around because he wants to break me. He wants me to wind up either a bootlicker like December or an institutionalized psycho like my mom. I stick around to prove that he can't do either.
Azmodai shakes his head.
Azmodai: You fuckin' Legends and your stubbornness. All any of you wanna do is prove that you're better than each other. It's the fuckin' family tradition, eh?
Before Kylie can reply again, the double doors suddenly swing open with a boom. An exasperated (and visibly shaken) December Green steps out into the hallway.
December: He wants to speak with both ya'll...
Azmodai again raises an eyebrow.
Well, this should be entertaining...
The two step into WBL's office. It's a massive, darkened chamber. Huge bookshelves line the walls. A massive desk is sprawled before a wall length window. To elegant, red velvet curtains are pulled back on either side of the window, revealing the nightsky and Houston skyline beyond. WBL stands, his back to December, Azmodai, and Kylie, his hands clasped behind his back, staring out the window. Azmodai loudly and obnoxiously clears his throat.
Azmodai: You wanted to see us, bossman?
WBL doesn't turn to face them.
WBL: Pack your bags. We're leaving for the Arena tonight. I've got a match tomorrow and I'm not missing it.
December rolls her eyes.
December: I still can't believe that you're plannin' on-
WBL: December.
December's eyes go wide and she immediately shuts her mouth. She knows she's overstepped her boundaries. Azmodai, meanwhile, just shakes his head again, his grin never faltering.
Azmodai: And he remains unbowed, even in the face of such adversity. If anyone in the FWF is deserving of the title of Warrior, it's you, boss. Or at least a stubborn son of a bitch. I was just telling Kylie here about how endearing of a family trait that is.
WBL finally turns to face his entourage.
WBL: Adversity? Is that how you view this? This incident with my company? This isn't adveristy, Azmodai. It never has been. Legend Petro is all powerful. We are above the law. We always have been and we always will be. We survived the incident with the tankers, we survived the incident with the undersea pipeline, and we'll survive this annoying business with the refinery. It's nothing. We have all the right people in all the right places. My dominance over this world, the world of business, of controlling the world through industry is absolute. It always has been. I have nothing to prove here and I never will. The congressional hearing will go my way and Legend Petro will reopen. This isn't adversity. It's a vacation. It's a reprieve.
Kylie raises her eyebrows now.
Kylie: Oh, I've gotta hear this.
WBL: I have been gone from the FWF for a very long time. Once, many years ago, my grip over it was as tight as my grip over the world of industry. I had nothing to prove because everyone could see, no matter how badly they wished to deny it, that I was the most dominant athlete out there. That I was the pinnacle of what being an FWF warrior was. True, I had a few missteps, against wastes of humanity like that idiot Pain... but those could only occur when the deck was stacked against me. The FWF has always been afraid of me. Of how powerful I'd become. So they insured, through whatever means they had at their disposal, that I would never win when it mattered most. But that was through no fault of my own.
WBL steps away from the window and moves around the side of the desk toward the three.
WBL: I even bought the place out in an attempt to level the playing field, but the FWF couldn't except that, so once again they wedged their peon, puppet Pain into the mix. So I did what I had to to regroup. I liquidated my assets, and put the company into a state of dormancy. But now I am ready. I am ready to make my return and show the world that I'm as powerful as I ever was. And the poor bastard that will be made an example of.... is Marcus Thomas Brody.
WBL shakes his head.
WBL: It's sad that the FWF feels they need to try to indigify me like this by putting me into the ring against some clownish nobody that I've never heard of.
Kylie glares at him.
Kylie: Ya know, Uncle Bill, you can pretend not to know who he is all you want, but the man IS a tag team champion and he IS the son of an FWF legend. I know you think you're above knowing who these people are, but really it just makes you look ignorant.
WBL: (feigning ignorance.) FWF legend? Who?
Kylie: Marcus Brody.
WBL: Oh... him. FWF legend, huh? I've been in the ring with so-called FWF legends before, and I've neatly disposed of each of them at one time or another. Predator. Pain. Hell, Marcus Brody doesn't even ring a bell to me. If that's what it means to be an FWF legend, then the FWF is even more pathetic than I thought. And that's saying something. So, this Brody kid is the son of some hot shot legend, eh? And that means what? He may be a legend, but I AM Legend! I don't care who you are or where you came from. It proves nothing. So he's a tag team champion? Well, that will be changing soon enough. When Benny Starr, the only other warrior besides me in the FWF who isn't completely worthless, and myself square off against Brody and the grandson of an even bigger loser, James Stall at Genesis, those titles will be ours.
Azmodai fakes a shudder.
Azmodai: Man, you seen that wife of Starr's. Sweet Jesus...
WBL ignores him.
WBL: This incident with the refinery will do nothing but give me the chance to focus on what NEEDS to be focused on. Making an example of Brody... and taking the first step toward ushering in the one true WBL Era... by capturing FWF gold at Genesis. Now... all of you... pack your bags. We're leaving tonight. End of discussion.
And with that, WBL trudges out of the room, leaving Kylie, Azmodai, and December standing in silence.