PROMO: Flesher's Thoughts

[King Cucaracha 0]

"Well, well, well."

 

Doing his best Joel Gertner impression, Tom Flesher stands up from his desk with arms folded and looking daggers across his office, his door creaking shut off-screen. The reason for the piercing look, is the arrival of Landon Maddix...The Next Generation, Tag Team Champion skulking into Flesher office like a naughty schoolboy, summoned to the headmaster's office. With his head hung, Maddix stands in front of Flesher, who continues to just stare at his former rival in disgust.

 

"You wanted to see me..." Maddix mumbles, as Flesher unfolds his arms. He then pauses. As if waiting for something. Something which apparantly doesn't come.

 

"What, is that all you've got for me? No shouting? No screaming? No swearing?"

 

Flesher laughs.

 

"And to think, here I was expecting a determined, raging young kid to come storming into my office and cause hell. Talk about your damb squibs. What's the matter, kid? Don't tell me you've blown off all your steam already. Or, did Megan discipline you already?"

 

"I ju..."

 

"Shut the hell up."

 

The calm but very firm demeanour of Tom is still enough for Maddix to avoid eye contact, looking down at his feet as Tom reaches over to his desk and retrieves a small piece of paper.

 

"I don't want to hear any bullshit excuses. You listen to me and you listen good, Maddix. You are getting off very - very lightly with this punishment. If it were up to me, you would be out on your ear. At the very least, I'd be doing what I did to Jenkins and suspending you for a month, minimum. That would be MY punishment. Trouble is, you lucked out. You chose the right time for your little outburst. If your little tirade had occured on Smarkdown, you would be royally screwed. But because Storm is such a 'hardcore', 'no holds barred' show...you got away with it."

 

Maddix looks up, just about containing his relief to a sigh and not a smile.

 

"Somewhat. There's not a whole lot I can do to you, in way of suspension. Rest assured though, you're gonna pay for this in the wallet. Unruly behaviour. Repeated bad language. Disruption of scheduled interview time. And insulting some rather powerful people. Not least, me."

 

"So, what, a fine?"

 

"Yes, a fine. Don't worry about raiding your bank account though Landon...see, rather than ask for money from you, we'll do this a more...'efficient' way. And we'll take the fine out of your 13th Hour winners money."

 

"Okay, I gue..."

 

"Oh, I'm sorry. I meant...'Martial Law's winners money'."

 

Seeing a smile curl onto Flesher's face, Maddix looks quizzical. Tom continues to smile as he reaches back over to his desk and hands Maddix a small brown envelope, motioning for him to open it. Which he does.

 

"Its...empty."

 

"Very astute." sneers Flesher. "So, if Todd wants to know why he's not getting paid for his contribution to the PPV, you'll have the answer for him, won't you. Maybe that'll teach him to keep a closer eye on you."

 

"Look, it's not his fault. If I can just explain...I've been really stressed recently. It's the...well...the whole thing with Megan."

 

"In that case, I'll keep her paycheck too."

 

Maddix scowls and curses under his breath.

 

"Tom...look, I didn't mean it come out like it did. Just to be clear, I meant every word I said about feeling over-looked and being sick to my back teeth of veterans getting preferential treatment over guys like me, who are travelling all over the world for the sake of this company. I didn't, however, mean to go off the deep end like I did. That's...just not me, you know that. It was heat of the moment, I'm feeling real stressed...and, seeing as you've got my punishment out of the way, hopefully we can forget all about this and move on."

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"What?"

 

"Sorry...I thought you said I've got the punishment out of the way and we can move on."

 

"Yea..."

 

"Oh, don't worry Landon. The fine is all the punishment the SWF can give you on the record."

 

Leaning in closer, Flesher snarls as he glares into Maddix's eyes.

 

"But - strictly off the record, of course - I just don't think it'd be right that one measly paycheck taken away from you is all the punishment you're going to get. Kid...if you thought you were going a rough deal before, then you might not enjoy the paths the rest of your SWF career takes. Call it poetic justice. Call it revenge. Call it what you want. But one way or the other, if I so desire, I could make your life even more stressful and even more to your disliking than you already seem to believe it is. Now, you know me, I'm a level-headed, forgiving person..."

 

Maddix rolls his eyes.

 

"...so I can give you a little leeway on this one. See, you're not as 'expendable' as Jenkins. Suspending you would leave me with even more of a headache than your bawling and whining will. Plus, much as I hate to admit it, you're a popular kid, for some reason. Like I say, you got lucky this time. But luck eventually runs out for us all. And eventually, you'll slip up again."

 

Flesher smiles a sick smile.

 

"And the moment you do...I'll be all over your scrawny ass like white on rice. 'Comprendé, Amigo'?"

 

"...yeah, I understand."

 

"Good. Now, I suggest if you want to get anywhere near a singles title belt in your lifetime, you keep that 'Latin temper' of yours in check...and toe the line."

 

Maddix solemnly nods and beings to leave, but is stopped in his tracks by the sound of Flesher clearing his throat behind him.

 

"Oh, and one more thing...you might want to stop by confession before you jump on that plane, Maddix. After all, I don't think saying some of the words you said, in the Vatican no less, will sit well with the bigman upstairs."

 

Smirking, Maddix wipes the hair from his face and winks at Flesher.

 

"I'll see you there."

 

Maddix walks off as Flesher assumes the quip was just another groundless one. After all, it wouldn't be the first Maddix has thrown at The Superior One. But as Flesher sits down and rests his arm over the back of his leather seated chair, something catches Tom's eye. A skimpy thong, presumably (read: hopefully) property of Allison Onita, hanging over the corner of the chair. Picking the undergarment up, Flesher raises his eyebrow slightly.

 

"Yeah...maybe I will."

[Toxxic 0]

Good promo, but I have to say I don't like Flesher as an actively nasty character given that he's in power. I think the trick will be finding the balance between a slightly vindictive person who occasionally uses his clout to arrange things that might not QUITE be fair and the generic heel commissioner.

 

Especially since he doesn't like me much, either...

[Sly 0]

No one really likes you very much, do they?

[muzz 0]

I don't.

 

I did, however, like this promo.