Promo: A Chat.

[Guest Insanityman]

(Edwin MacPhisto, the multi-talented international star with many accomplishments, sits in his office in a black leather swivel chair drumming the end of his pen against the mahogany polished desk. Papers are scattered randomly across his desk and the small tin trash bin is overflowing with crumpled up papers. He slowly leans his weight back reclining as thoughts pour through his mind and slowly his eyelids drop as he lets the pen drop. He opens his eyes as he reclines back more to see himself staring back; a newly released cardboard cut-out of MacPhisto, the prototype design for some new toy that’ll be out soon. A smug grin crawls across his face but the thoughts and the peaceful moment gets shattered, as the door swings open. “Great.” He mutters sarcastically, way too used to that sound).

 

Edwin leans forwards and lets the back of the chair slam into his back as he grins brightly towards the man in the doorway. Dressed in black Orisis skate shoes and loose tan-cream color cargoes and a black hooded sweatshirt that’s also a size or so too large.

 

“You’re not making the best fashion statement their Andrew. Doesn’t it get absurdly hot wearing a sweat” He pauses. He notices his right arm is fixed in a white sling and Rickmen has a neutral face. His hair spiked of course, and Edwin sighs but asks, “How’s the shoulder.”

 

“Absolutely throbbing.” He replies simply, his eyes a fierce green this day showing no emotion. Awkward silence. MacPhisto is dumbfounded as to why no threat has been made, or a fist raised. “It took a beating.” Luchador says with a shrug.

 

“You still won.” Edwin points out and he shudders recalling the maniac laughter. He mutters something about it being way too cold to cover his cringe.

 

“For what though?” Andrew Rickmen simply asks. Edwin’s eyes give away his confusion and Andrew finds it proper to continue, “I won… got beat down… had to take a break for what? I didn’t win anything… sure as hell didn’t gain any respect. Not many noticed.” His left hand swings up and MacPhisto flinches back but all Andrew does is gingerly rub his visible cut. It was nearly healed but it looked on the brink of infection.

 

“Well… you scared the little kids with all that laughing while you got beat down.” Edwin points out to a chuckle and Andrew frowns. MacPhisto cuts the chuckle short and realizes he prefers Luchador to think himself of a threat than being unusually calm.

 

He fumbles for words and is glad when Insane Luchador makes his next point, “Why the hell am I booked?” Edwin slowly shrugs. Andrew slowly walks from the doorway to the desk and he lays his hands on the table, the sweatshirt covering them. His head is hung low as he glances over all the scattered papers. The good commissioner finds that action offensive and with a sweep of the arm he rounds the papers near him. He begins to sort them out and his eyes glance up to see Rickmen’s head slowly raising up. Edwin quits the paperwork and sighs heavily as Luchador gives him a calm look trying not to have an outburst. “First… I didn’t want to be booked, second when I came back I wanted a world title shot.”

Edwin’s emotions get the better as he slams down the papers and looks up as he blurts out his thoughts, “What makes you think that your even worthy? Makes me wonder why I haven’t faced you against Cutthroat!”

 

“Then I quit.” Luchador says simply as he releases the stare and his pose. He stands in front of the desk and under his long sleeves a fist is clinched. His arm slowly slips out of the sling as Edwin throws back his head and he begins to laugh.

 

“Fine, you can quit… no his month’s pay. I KNOW you need this job. Rickmen, you are nothing then a nuisance!” Edwin says nearly yelling. Andrew turns his back to MacPhisto who continues to rant, “I’ve been giving you shot after shot so you’d get out of my hair, god damn it Andrew you’re a Plague when it comes to a pain in the ass! How is it possible for you to crack under so many shots, eh?” Suddenly Rickmen twirls around and with his right arm a punch swings out. It soars above Edwin and slams into the cardboard replica as it swings and then falls over. “You little…” Edwin says as Andrew shrugs his shoulder.

 

“You really thought you had me, didn’t you? Book me with an injury and hope I get shelved.” Edwin not even scared shrugs off the comment with a roll of his one yellow and one green eye.

 

”Rickmen, your not a threat. At all. I’ve never been scared of you, I’ve been creeped out by some of your stunts but basically, you’ve never even made me uneasy.” The truth. Edwin was speaking the truth because he was actually hoping Insane Luchador would take a swing so he could just beat him senseless.

 

 

Breathing deeply from rage Andrew slowly tries to calm himself down, Edwin then continues, “Even if you ever got in the WF I would gladly beat you down!” Andrew glances towards Edwin desk as he grabs the letter opener and rolls up his sleeve. He puts the cold metal against his own arm and he cuts his arm open. The blood slowly trickles and Andrew grins wildly. He then leans over the desk letting the blood hit it. He then stabs the desk hard with the letter opener putting a dent in it as MacPhisto stands from his chair. “That’s off your paycheck.”

 

A laugh and a wide grin from the Insane Luchador.

 

“Right… I’ve been around to see the Clan, Andrew… a little cut doesn’t freak me out.” He says and he sits back down getting tired of all this. The blood slowly splatters onto his desk. Edwin slowly sighs and wonders where he’d put the towels to clean it up later. “What’s up with you?” Edwin asks suddenly. Andrew taken back pauses considering his words.

 

“I’ve changed.”

 

“Well no crap, I mean, you used to be a very cool underdog and maybe dare I say… had talent?” Edwin replies with a grin recalling the old days.

 

Insane Luchador rolls down his sleeve as it soaks the blood. A smirk crawls across his face and IL turns his back to Edwin again as he walks towards the door.

 

“Thank God.” Edwin says under his breath but IL turns back again to a moan from Edwin.

 

“I want my shot.” He says simply.

 

“You don’t deserve one, you have a chance at the Euro… take what you can get.”

 

Luchador’s face flushes into a deep red and he turns around as he warns Edwin, “I’m not the kind of guy to forget stuff.” He threats to Edwin’s chuckle as he slams the door shut. The room rattles and Edwin swings around in his chair as he mounts the replica to its feet and he asks, “Did that little bugger hurt you?”

[Guest Renegade]

Superb promo IL, i cant see why you said it sucks. Fab promo.

[Guest -Cutthroat-]

Great stuff, great stuff....

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

He then stabs the desk hard with the letter opener putting a dent in it as MacPhisto stands from his chair. “That’s off your paycheck.”

 

Brilliant!

 

You come and go, IL, and I know you get frustrated sometimes, but when it all comes down to it you have one of the best work ethics in the fed and one of the deepest characters. A magnificent promo for really getting back on track.

[Guest TheBostonStrangler]

It'll be scary to see what guys like IL and MVS are capable of doing when they're our age....hell, they've hung with people 10 years older than them. That's no easy task. A nice promo, IL. Get that Euro title, son!

[Guest KingOfOldSchool]

A good one, IL.

 

You do promos, like I never quite could (psychotic behavior-wise, at least).

[Guest kelloggs]

I never forgot about you IL. This is a nice promo that should and will lead to great things for you... Glad to see the board alive with promos

[Guest kelloggs]

I never forgot about you IL. This is a nice promo that should and will lead to great things for you... Glad to see the board alive with promos