Promo: If I'm a Franchise

[Guest kelloggs]

It’s CHAOS…

 

Thousands of people walking, running, jogging… pushing and prodding…

 

“OOF!” Exclaims the guy who bumped into me! “Sorry Mac,” He pauses for a moment. ”… you look familiar, do I know you?”

 

The kid he bumped into, maybe in his early twenties mumbles something like “pretty close…” before repositioning his gym bag across his shoulder. He’s wearing a green with white lettering Michigan State hooded sweatshirt and blue jeans. The guy looks him up and down before his wife, who isn’t to bad looking, henpecks him into walking away. The guy turns and gets one last look. And it finally dawns on him who it is… SWF wrestler “The Franchise” Mak Francis.

 

“Sucks to be him…”

 

Francis just got off the damn plane and people are already bumping into him. He looks behind him and the cute stewardess that gave him that extra meal and the tiny little bottle of bourbon for free says something to the girl that got him a pillow and other flight attendants, presumably her friends.

 

I guess flirting with them was better than sitting in first class, since I did get a number or two out of it. Coach, the only way to fly if you’re a mid-carder! I’m actually surprised she knew who I was… but the other one seemed like she just wanted me to introduce her to Zenon or Kibagami. Everyone likes their “new attitudes”.

 

But still, I got the cute ones number.

 

Through all the hustle and bustle of the General Mitchell International Airport, one common thing ties all these travelers together. One thing ties this young man Mak Francis and the thousands upon thousands walking as well.

 

Self doubt.

 

I have it…

 

They all have it, but it varies… from person to person their worries are different and yet the same. Food, Shelter and more money are what they’re concerned about. ME, my worries; did I get too much too fast? Can I do it? Can I win anymore?

 

As he walks, Mak turns to his left and his pace slows checking out the scene. The metal detectors beep every two or three people; and fifty to sixty people stand in line, awaiting their chance to go through. An alarm goes off again and the airport staff asks the guy to re empty his pockets.

 

Once upon a time I got stopped a lot. Well not really that way, but with my JL belts. Brian always said that champions were responsible for their own belts. It was a bitch back when I had to carry two of them, but I couldn’t just put them in my bag! How would people know, I was a double champ then… or even the Junior Leagues Heavyweight champ of the World!

 

“Uh, excuse me… are you Mak Francis?” Asks a guy slightly older than me, maybe even my age.

 

But I remember it well. Always getting questions like that one, then the fans would recognize me… and be all like “You are Mak Francis aren’t you!” or something similar and that leads into the autographs. But at least they remembered me. They respected me for my talent. They saw a belt or two and they knew I WAS THE BEST!

 

A Franchise…

 

I nod my head cause it's the nice thing to do and suddenly a little boy moves from behind his leg.“It’s for my son.”

 

“Yeah, no doubt…”

 

Kids…

 

Wow, I never even though about having one, but I guess it would be cool. To have a kid… to build a family.

 

The little boy smiles as Francis finishes signing the piece of paper and hands it to him. Mak, says his goodbyes and continues his walk towards the baggage claims area. A few more people talk in a hushed whisper, that he’s a SWF wrestler and all is right in the world.

 

I think I forgot what this is all about.

 

Mak makes his way to the conveyer belt and after picking up his suitcase; Francis places it on the ground and drags it behind him on its rollers.

 

I think I lost my way. Right now I can’t think about other things. Things like that, they distract me. I just lost a match that I should have won… no NEEDED to win!

 

I need a little reminder of why I’m here and what I was brought in to do. I got bumped to win titles, cause that’s what it’s all about. The fans can cheer me. I can love the sport. I can be accomplished in the field but if I don’t get the belts its all a mute point…

 

And since Wilson is god knows where… “FUCK” I mumble under my breath as somebody bumps into my left hand, the one that got broke in that Cage match with CIA... Shit, I think that old lady heard me. Oh well, nothing she hasn’t heard before. But the question is do I really want to ask HIM?

 

As Francis exits through the double doors, he pulls out his cellular phone and scrolls up to a name.

 

“Send.” States Francis as he pushes the button. A little repetitive habit he picked up from somewhere, maybe his pops.

 

I know you know it’s me, so answer already…

 

“Hello,” Asks Mak, pushing the phone to his ear so that he can listen over the horns and traffic passing by.

 

I really need to talk but I can’t sound desperate…

 

“Yeah it’s me.” Mak shifts the phone slightly. "Are you in Milwaukee?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Good, we… we need to talk… can you meet me here…”

[Guest Ace309]

Nice, Mak. Very nice. I know you were worried about the switching-POV aspect of this promo, but I thought you executed it really, really well.

[Guest TheBostonStrangler]

Nice work, Mak. I liked the JL title references. It's a good way to look back at the past success and wonder if it can be duplicated, since you're supposedly on hard times now. There were a couple places where the changing POV seemed awkward or forced, but overall, I thought the effect was very nice. It worked well with the message of the promo, which is the main thing. Overall, very solid.