PROMO: You had me at good bye

[Guest Rabbi_wilson13]

It’s a dark street. Not exactly what you call high class, but glowing brightly is a large neon sign.

 

“Wilson’s”.

 

Martini glass to the right, saxophone to the left. He had to check in. Even if it was just for that one last look to the man who had tormented him for months.

 

Edwin MacPhisto swung the door to the empty jazz club open, and stepped inside. He walked past a coat closet and into the actual club. A bar, couple of pool tables, dart boards, few dozen small tables and a large stage. Wiping off one of the tables was a man not dressed in his usual garb. Instead, he wore a pair of dark gray Dockers and a silver dress shirt, unbuttoned collar. He looked over and saw his guest.

 

“Edwin, my boy!” shouts Wilson as he drops his rag and cuts across the room to where the former Crown Prince of Flash and Panache stands. He extends his hand. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

 

Edwin ignores the hand, looking around. “A jazz club? It was the least of my expectations, to be sure.” His eyes concentrate on Wilson, who looks as innocent as a deranged psychopath could be. “Why’d you get out of the business? You didn’t have any secrets bogging you down, or any omnipresent demons. It was just a bloody good time for you, destroying lives and frolicking about.”

 

Wilson shrugs and pulls his hand back in. “Yeah, I know, but sometimes you just want something more. I can could of gone on winning titles and winning matches forever, but what is that really proving?” He shakes his head and turns to the stage, heading towards it. Edwin follows. “Nothing. I enjoyed it, but this just offers so much more fulfillment.”

 

“It’s almost like you don’t realize how much you want something until you don’t have it. I didn’t realize how badly I needed to get away from the business. That’s why I left the last time. Things just weren’t working out. And now.” He lets out a sigh. “And now things just seem right. Besides, what fun would it be? You’re gone, Raynor will have to retire, the whole freaking Carnival’s dead, and do you know what I feel like?”

 

Wilson ascends onto the stage, and then turns to face Edwin as he pulls himself up. “I feel nothing. My goals since the beginning of time were to destroy the Carnival and you. And look at that, I was successful. But does that make me happy?”

 

Edwin shakes his head. “You’re actually making sense, and its almost scary.” He tips an imaginary hat at Wilson. “Just had to see it to believe it. Now I’m off. Have a good life.”

 

Wilson frowns, looking over at the instruments eloquently placed around the stage. “You don’t want to…”

 

A smile crosses the worn, tired face of Edwin MacPhisto. “Well, I suppose it can’t hurt.” And Edwin extends his hand to the Manipulative Maniac O’ Fun, who returns the smile and reaches out…

 

 

 

 

 

The plane lurches and Wilson is shaken abruptly from his sleep. The magazine on his chest falls to the floor and he looks out to the stormy sky, shivering. Thank God the turbulence had awaken him from that damned nightmare.

 

Beside him, the phone rings and he picks it up.

 

“Hello?…No, I want the seven o’ clock tee time…The duke of where? Like I give a damn…No, you tell the queen…Yes, I know she knows about that…Well remind her about those pictures…You know what? I don’t care. Pick a tabloid in London and give me the number…” Wilson grabs a sheet of paper and scribbles down some digits. “Excellent…Yeah, you’re fired….Yep, terminated. All right now, bye.”

 

Wilson hangs up the phone and leans back in his chair again. The Carnival was destroyed. Edwin MacPhisto had disappeared. And the Magnificent Seven still reigned supreme, now under the control of a man nearly as twisted as the architect himself.

 

The cruel, twisted smile slithered across the face of Chris Wilson. The smile that had crossed it a thousand times over as he plotted and mocked and destroyed. It had chilled many a person’s heart, and now the adoring public and the pathetic roster wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore.

 

He sighed. They didn’t deserve him anyway. Maybe someday. Someday when a kooky Canadian and a freely bleeding New Jersey native were fighting for all the things good and just, and the heels just weren’t getting the job done.

 

But until then, retirement.

 

The small luxury plane flew off through the clouds, scything through them easily. And with that, the last trace of Chris Wilson was gone with it.

[Guest El Luchadore Magnifico]

The Carnival is NOT destroyed.

 

Great promo number four for the day, however.

[Guest TheBostonStrangler]

I enjoyed that. Hopefully you will rejoin us someday. We have some....unfinished business.

[Guest crusen86]

...No explosions?

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

Ding! Now we just have to wait another 2 hours for someone else to hang 'em up.

 

Your departure's been a long time coming, and you really outdid yourself with the ballad on the PPV, but this has got a lot of charm. But destroy the Carnival...in your dreams, pal. Literally. Oh ho ho!

[Guest chirs3]

I must admit, I'm a little dissapointed - it's a Wilson promo, but there's no gratuitous violence. Whatsupwitdat?!

 

I suppose sir Wilson is losing his edge - good that he's leaving, then - we don't take kindly to half-assed supervillains around here.

 

Though if Comet ever returns, you will too. It's not debatable. Wilson vs Comet, Bond Villain versus Super Hero... it's too good to pass up.

 

Until then, congratulations on a great sendoff promo and second retirement.

[Guest kelloggs]

And another great writer leaves us. I'm just disapointed I never got the chance to work with you and I sincerely hope you comeback.

[Guest realitycheck]

He sighed. They didn’t deserve him anyway. Maybe someday. Someday when a kooky Canadian and a freely bleeding New Jersey native were fighting for all the things good and just, and the heels just weren’t getting the job done.

Could be waiting a while there, man.

 

Cute promo to go out. I, too, hope you can return someday (again), and cause more gratuitous collateral damage, whilst plotting and generally being the SWF's only true, officially recognized supergenius baddie. Happy trails, Chris.

 

::KICK! WHAM! STUNNER~!'s Wilson and beats him one more time for the road. ::

 

-Z

[Guest HVilleThugg]

Bah...that blew.

 

yeah, tha'ts right...I waited like 4 days to say that promo sucked ass...

 

ok, it didn't suck ass...it just sucks ass that you're leaving..even though we all knew you would.

 

::blows up WIlson's plane::

 

Now THAT'S FUN!

 

Da "and they drop like flies" H