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Scotsman

Promo: Allow me to reintroduce myself

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Guest Tonights Highlite

The show is over, but Alex Zenon stays pat—looking over some paperwork that supposedly can’t wait until tomorrow. He’s already had to deal with two children today—and both of them severely got on his nerves. The real reason he was still around to hear the bitching, moaning and complaining of one Landon Maddix and have tiring conversations that don’t lead anywhere with Spike Jenkins is officially one hour late.

 

“Where in the hell is this guy?” asks Zenon rhetorically, after taking another quick glance at his watch. Alex, obviously upset about having to wait past the appointed time, ponders on the upcoming card some more. God-damnit, he already pretty much booked the guy in a slot… Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door.

 

“Come in.” shouts Alex, hoping to god that it isn’t one of the true psychotics under his employ, instead of another annoying rugrat.

 

“Sorry I’m late, Commish. I was lost. Then I got caught up in watching the matches on one of your little TV’s in the hallway. And then I got lost again…”

 

Zenon looks at the man through narrowing eyes. He caught the almost subtle slur in his voice. The reddish tint on his cheeks—not to mention the glaringly obvious glass bottle in his hand, maybe a quarter of the way filled.

 

“I ran into this girl, she didn’t even give me the time of day. Megan Skye. She could have helped me get here, but she had to get to a match. Hot little body on that one—a little rude, feisty, not that that’s a prob—”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. She was just in here.” God, didn’t he just have this discussion with Jenkins.

 

“Really?” responds Ryan, a little shocked. “That hurts… she could have a least come and found me after if she was coming here. You should have a talk with her.”

 

Zenon rubs his eyes, clearly a little testy at the moment. “She runs with Landon Maddix. Not my problem—at least it isn’t my problem right now, thank god. I’ve already dealt with them. You being late, Mr. Dustin, now that’s my real problem, or should I say, your problem.”

 

Ryan waves a hand dismissively. “Take a chill pill, Zenon or can I call you Z? I’m pretty good with nicknames and you just look like a man that screams ‘one letter wonder’, you know.”

 

Alex shoots Ryan a sharp and very dark gaze. Apparently, Commissioner Zenon isn’t too fond of nicknames, at all. Dustin makes a mental note to stay in Zenon’s good graces at least long enough to get the job, first.

 

“You’re fucking drunk.” says Zenon flatly, calling him out. Apparently, he really doesn’t like nicknames.

 

“Am I?” responds Ryan, trying to stall, so that he can think up some damage control.

 

“You’re talking to me like I’m not the man who was going to sign you to a contract. But then you show up late, forcing me to listen to Spike Jenkins and Landon Maddix.” Ryan opens his mouth but Alex summarily closes it for him. “And trying to deny with the Jack in your hand isn’t doing you any favors.”

 

Ryan looks at the bottle in his hands and rubs the back of his head. He hadn’t noticed that he still had the bottle—he thought he already finished it. But, at the mention of Jenkins’ and Maddix’s names, Ryan thankfully sees a way to change the subject and get back on the right foot. “Those two have some potential, Mr. Zenon. They’re a lot further ahead then I was in my youth, from what I saw. Kids are smarter these days you know. It’s a lot harder to keep up with them.”

 

“Whatever.” Responds Alex dismissively. “At least you have the common sense to know when to change a subject. I guess I could still give you an interview today.” Ryan nods his head, clearly sobered up a little by Zenon candid comments. Alex on the other hand looks like he could use a drink. “So, your resume is a little troublesome. I know about your work abroad. Two separate federations. Cruiserweight and Light-heavyweight champion at twenty two years old. That was impressive,” emphasizes Zenon, “being a champ in two federations at the same time—”

 

“Well they had this cross promotional thing…” responds Ryan, not happy about the tone of Alex’s voice, but he definitely can’t say anything to rile Zennon up after what was almost a debacle for the ages.

 

“Yeah, this all seems to point to the fact that you can go with our Cruiserweight and even Heavyweight divisions quite well, despite your weight. You’ve held some impressive reigns with secondary belts, but…”

 

Ryan raises an eyebrow at that. But is never a good word to hear after a compliment.

 

“What troubles me is; you were in a federation in the United States, a few years ago, but you quit rather unceremoniously. Is there something I should know?”

 

Now it’s Ryan’s turn to look dark. “I just don’t like talking about it. I did well enough in their mid-level and World title scene. I’m not past my prime, if that’s what you implying.”

 

“Hmmph,” snorts Zenon, a little disillusioned. He could press the situation, but he might end up find out something he doesn’t want or need to hear. Or he could just be a choker. At least this guy has a normal psych evaluation. He’s not crazy. And if there’s one thing Alex has had enough of, it’s that he had to deal with enough psychos with excess baggage, already. “Well, lucky for you that I have to handle some more pressing problems than drunks, right now. You’re booked for the next card in a match against Ace Lezaire.” says Zenon, handing him a pen. “Sign here.”

 

Ryan notes the amount of money is as they agreed upon over the phone. Thank heavens for small favors.

 

“That kid’s a pompous ass if I ever saw one, but he can’t be that much worse than Toxxic, could he now?” adds Zenon as Ryan signs, making a snide aside.

 

“Sure, uh, who’s Toxxic?” asks Dustin with a shrug.

 

“Don’t worry about him.” Zennon takes the contract and smirks. “There’s no chance in hell you’ll miss that kid, especially with your, uh, habits. You worry about Ace. I gave him a report on you, just like I’m about to give you of him.” answers Zenon, handing Ryan a piece of paper. “Now if you’ll kindly leave, I might be able to get out of here before another person decides they need someone to bitch at.”

 

A pause.

 

"Oh yeah, talk to Comet and Riley, before you go. They'll need a little information on you, for the match."

 

“Right.” says Dustin, slowly walking out of the room, more so that he doesn’t stumble than anything else. Zenon gets to work on filing the new contract, as he hears the door click closed. A drunk, an idiot and a bitch… all after one show.

 

 

 

Just another day in the SWF…

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Good start, and know we all know the character a little bit better. Hopefully this carries straight over into your matches.

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Heh - i get the feeling that this isn't a "n00b" after all, but i have no idea who it is... and I'm sure that the Straight-Edge Sensation will get involved with the drunk one day.

 

Nice promo mate. i look forward to finding out who you really are, since you seem to know about me...

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Guest Tonights Highlite
Heh - i get the feeling that this isn't a "n00b" after all, but i have no idea who it is... and I'm sure that the Straight-Edge Sensation will get involved with the drunk one day.

 

Nice promo mate. i look forward to finding out who you really are, since you seem to know about me...

 

Nah, I've just RPed alot before and lurked around here since a little before the last PPV. The problem was I couldn't sign up until recently

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Well Muzz says he knows who you are and Kibagami has now flat out told me his opinion. But I'll keep mum.

 

Until someone asks me ;)

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Guest Tonights Highlite

Wow, I'm surprised everyone knows who I am, and I don't even have a clue. But I'm probably the guy that Muzz thinks I am and not the guy the world champ Kibagami thinks. Or maybe it's the other way around. I'm getting confused. Anyway, I'll keep mum too.

 

;-) (for Muzz)

 

;) (for Toxxic)

 

:blink: :unsure: (for me)

 

Oh, I'd hate to shill my RP, but my goal is to get ten positive comments. Help me become a better writer.

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