Promo: Paperwork and Payback

[Guest TheBostonStrangler]

NOVEMBER 27, 2002

4:25 PM

FRANK ERWIN CENTER

AUSTIN, TEXAS

 

“Grand Slam” Mark Stevens sighs as he shifts yet another stack of paperwork from one end of his desk to another. He stares at the still-massive stack of contracts, concession deals, advertisements, and prospect evaluations still sitting in his inbox. He brushes aside some of the clutter on his desk, knocking the new “SWF: The Best of the Ladder Match” DVD (available everywhere!) to the ground. Mark looks up, distracted by the hollow-souding clatter. “Damn, I gotta be on a plane in two hours. I gotta get home to help Lynn cook the turkey and say goodnight to Chris…stupid work.” He looks up, the bags under his eyes extremely noticeable. “Well….a half hour more. The rest can wait until Friday.” He grabs another form out of the endless stack, and grabs his pen before pausing. He puts on his reading glasses, a look of interest coming over his face.

 

“Well, didn’t think I’d being seeing this anytime soon…” mutters Mark as he scans through the document. “I figured he’d be stuck in rehab for another 8-12 weeks easy, then have a heavy conditioning program left in front of him. I mean, I was expecting him in June, but now? SOMETHING’S up there...”

 

Mark stares at it for a second, then grabs the phone. He punches in a few numbers, and waits as the phone rings once….twice….three times. Finally, as Mark gets ready to hang up, the line cracks to life, and a hurried voice snaps through the line. “Whaddaya want?”

 

“Hey, Stubby, it’s Mark. Got a small question for you.”

 

“Make it fast. I’m busy watching Misty make a turkey while I laugh at her.”

 

“Always the gentleman, Stubby. Anyways, I have a form on my desk from the Boston Strangler. Apparently Katowski left the rehab center a few weeks ago without being dismissed. He claimed that he “couldn’t wait any longer”, and that he had “unfinished business”. And now, I have an application from him, looking to be reinstated. What do you think?”

 

“So the bastard flew outta rehab without checking out, disappeared from the cops, is probably snorting coke or shooting up in some alley in Boston, and wants to come back here to get back at a couple punks who stole his wallet while getting a big fat paycheck? Hmm, such a HARD decision…”

 

“Stubbs, from what I know about Strangler, that was an isolated incident. I think we should bring him back and…”

 

“And I think that YOU should focus on your commentating. I say no dice. Strangler is OUT.”

 

Stevens begins to reply, but the abrupt click on the other end of the line cuts him off before the words leave his mouth. Stevens glances back down at the form sitting amidst the clutter on his desk. Mark reaches over, with a slight look of regret on his face, and grabs ahold of a rubber stamp. He quickly slams it down on the paper, scribbles his name on the dotted line, and tosses it into his out box. Mark quickly rises up and grabs the jacket off the back of his chair, heading for the door. “Poor bastard….but not my problem anymore” mutters Stevens to himself. “Now it’s time to get home and see Lynn and Chris.” As Mark walks out the door, he looks back once at the single white piece of paper, with the giant red “REQUEST DENIED” stamped on the front of it, before turning and walking briskly out the door.

 

 

 

 

DECEMBER 4, 2002

2:21 PM

BRADLEY CENTER

MILWAUKEE, WISCONSIN

 

Mark Stevens, still looking frantically overworked, stares up at the massive pile of paperwork obstructing the view of the rest of his office. He groans yet again, and sinks back into his chair, relaxing a little bit. “I swear, this whole Thugg thing has the entire office in a frenzy. Who woulda thought that one guy without a contract could cause so much paperwork?” mutters Stevens to himself as he reaches up to grab another piece of paper from the pile. Suddenly, the entire pile explodes into the air, flying everywhere. Stevens jumps out of his chair, sending his chair rolling into the wall as he looks up. Amidst the flying paper, Stevens sees the unmistakable vision of a giant, pissed-off Bostonian standing in front of his desk, directly behind where the massive paper pile once stood.

 

“Hello, Mark. Looks like one guy not getting a contract can also destroy a lot of paperwork too, huh?”

 

“Um…Strangler…”

 

“Mark, call me Albert.”

 

“Um…Albert, what the hell are you doing here? You know that you aren’t allowed in here!”

 

“What’s the deal, Mark? When I lost my contract, you were all over the news saying that when I cleared up my problems, I’d be welcomed back with open arms. In case you don’t remember, I did some pretty good business for you a few months ago. And even with your pathetically depleted roster, you’re not gonna let me back? I mean, you let SILENT back, and not me? What if it was Edwin? Would HE be welcomed back? I bet he would. Just because I was never a fucking Carnie, I’m getting shafted here!”

 

“Whoa, whoa, WHOA. Albert, I have nothing against you. This is beyond my control. Stubby made the call on both you and Thugg that you guys aren’t welcomed back, for various reasons. You never completed rehab, you’re on the run from the Boston police department, and you’re in nowhere near the shape to compete!”

 

“Mark, I don’t care. Remember when King forced you out? When you and Eddie had to fight each other with your careers on the line? Do you remember how you felt toward King back then? He screwed you!”

 

“I know, bu…”

 

“And that’s how I feel! I was screwed over! I made a mistake, sure. But Chris Wilson fucked me over good. He was gonna make me the leader of the M7. Then Tom Flesher walks in and takes it from me. That was my job! And then Chrissy turns me in for the steroid thing, which, again, was my fault, and I’m gone. I don’t like having my livelihood taken away from me. Mark, you can understand what I’m saying! You have to listen to me!”

 

Stevens looks down at his feet, obviously shaken by Strangler’s words. “Albert, I really wanna help you out. I do. But this is over my head. If you really wanna get something done, you’ll need to talk to Stubby. He’s the one with the power.”

 

Strangler looks down, accepting the news. “Well, Mark, I appreciate what you’ve said. I know that I was kinda harsh to you, and I really shouldn’t have been. But I would like to give you one last chance.” Strangler pulls out a copy of his reinstatement form and places it on the desk. “It’s all signed, Mark. It just needs your stamp. C’mon, Mark. Gimme my chance to get revenge, the chance you didn’t get. C’mon, Mark! Do the right thing! Screw Stubby!”

 

Mark looks at the form in front of him, obviously wavering. He glances over at the stamps on the side of his desk, then looks back up at Strangler. He sighs, then grabs the stamp, slamming it against the paper. Strangler cracks a grin as Mark reaches for a pen, and scrawls his name across the bottom of the paper. Mark looks up at Strangler, a slight grin on his face. “Albert, I just put my ass on the line for you. And considering that you and I don’t exactly have a good history, hell, ANY, history together, I’m not sure why I’m doing this. So I have one stipulation.”

 

Strangler looks down, a concerned look on his face. “What, Mark? What do I need to do? Is it the whole rehab thing? I’ll go back if you make me! Just promise me I’ll get my shot!”

 

Mark chuckles, drawing a confused look from Strangler. “No, Al, I think you learned your lesson there. Obviously, stay away from the roids. But the one thing you have to do is get your revenge. I never got mine. King’s still running around here acting like he owns the place. Get Flesher. And get Wilson too. Do that.”

 

Strangler smiles broadly, a look of relief on his face. “You bet your ass I will. Mark, I owe you one.”

 

Mark returns the smile as he takes the paper, folding it into an envelope. “I know. But do that for me, and it’s all good. Now get out of here before Stubby sees you. I’m not in the mood for confrontation right now. So why don’t you…”

 

Mark looks up, and sees an empty office in front of him. From down the hall, he hears a door swing open, then slam shut. Mark grins, then heads back to the pile of paperwork in front of him. “I swear, this job just gets weirder and weirder every day…”

[Guest Ace309]

Ooh... A serial killer's after me! I'm shaking in my boots!

 

... wait.

 

 

 

 

 

Solid returnee promo, and it establishes goals. What more can you ask for?

[Guest kelloggs]

TBS,

 

I really love the idea here using Mark's feeling for King as a reason for Albert's contract being picked up. I can really understand the emotional connection he feels with your character and the promo goes into great detail about your characters persona, which is one of the things I always liked about your writing style promo wise. Builds you up for a solid face run upon your return.

[Guest WrestlingDeacon]

Can't Stubby just override the reinstatement? This situation seems so similar to Thugg's I would love to see you two guys team up to wreak havoc. A very solid and literate promo overall that really gets to the point. It wasn't flashy or fancy, but it didn't need to be and works very well for you.

[Guest realitycheck]

(Y) @ This. I agree, gives excellent insight to the character, and sets you up totally for a face run... well, whenever. I like the ending you did a lot better than the one in your first draft, obviously.

 

Minamilist promos = teh roq.

 

-Z

[Guest Powerplay]

Yeah, Tom shake in your boots, but he'll have to come through the whole Mag 7 to get you..... wait, I'M in the Mag 7. AW FUCK!

 

Great promo, though. Relating to him using King and his retirement is fantastic; I don't think I'd have thought of that. Very tight job, Stragulator.

[Guest Suicide King]

::cell phone rings::

 

Hey Stubbs... what? He did what? Where was I? Well, you remember that massage parlor on Fifth... um... yeah. Right. Going back to the office right away. Throwing all of Mark's personal effects in a pile, sprinkling it with lighter fluid, and playing with matches. Got it. Sole Director of Talent Relations. Yessir.

 

::click::

 

Revenge on me? What a chucklehead.

[Guest Goodear]

Damn Strangler is on his way back to kick up the vengeance! Although the outstanding warrant might come back to haunt him. Oh the troubled past and how it returns to haunt us.

[Secret Agent 0]

Commentators can sign contracts? Cool beans, i'm out of the JL and going straight to Good 'OL Grand Slam!

 

In all seriousness, i think that was a sweet promo Strangler. It looks like you have quite the storyline planned out for whenever you return, well... whenever that is. I'm just curious though. Does the SWF have a central head quarters like Titian Towers? Everyone seems to work out of the arenas.

[Guest AnnieEclectic]

Jeez, promolicious week here at SWF! Strangler, doing a face run? I seem to vaguely remember a TBS face way way way back when... or was that tweener. You'll be welcomed back with open arms to us old bud, when you do come back! Solid promo with good psychology on why Mark would let you back!

 

~!

 

-Annie

[Guest Grand Slam]

To answer your questions ...

 

Grand Slam and King have been established as being the co-directors of talent relations and development. We are JR, so to speak. Obviously, if you want a favor without major repercussions, you ask me and not King.

 

And if we do have a HQ, it is probably in London, where Jayson is, or in Japan, where the former owners are. I seem to remember a mention of the main training site to be in Chicago though...

[Guest Ash Ketchum]

I thought it was Cleveland. We own 51% of Gund Arena, if I remember...

 

Not to say someone else doesn't own 51% of some other arena... or will in the future...

 

I know tryouts were in London. So, anyways, we can use London, England. No big whoop.

[Guest Longdogger_Pete]

It's probably Chicago (so that Stubby, Mark, and King don't have to fly across the country every other day)... and the individual arenas on Storm and Smarkdown nights.

 

And we may own most of Gund Arena... but we're banned from Tampa's Ice Palace. Don't forget that.

[Guest Powerplay]

And we may own most of Gund Arena... but we're banned from Tampa's Ice Palace. Don't forget that.

How the hell did that happen?

[Guest Ace309]

Long story, but it resulted in the show in Ash's backyard.

[Guest BA_Baracus]

PROMO (Stubby P. McWeed);

"Wait a second...

 

...when did I put the commentator in charge of hiring people?

 

Mothernature says..."