Post by T-Robosaurus Rex on Sept 3, 2009 18:58:21 GMT -5
[The sanitised, cold, bright white walls almost blind the viewer as the scene opens up. The sound of a myriad of people busying themselves can be heard, as we focus down a long, illuminated hallway. Soon it becomes apparent we are in a hospital as a group of nurse’s saunter by, hips swinging, as they gossip about the latest doctor with ‘potential’. They pass the camera and almost immediately we witness a patient being wheeled along upon a gurney prepped for some kind of surgery. The camera soon zooms forward and concentrates on the shimmering, metallic doors that enclose the lift shaft.
Almost immediately we here a ‘Ping!’ as the elevator reaches this floor, and as the doors open we catch sight of the woollen overcoat wearing Old Lady Levene, her fists bunched around the handle of her purse, and a look of concern splashed across her face. Once the doors have opened enough for GIW’s Senior Enforcer to squeeze through, she does so and with speed that seems out of place on a woman her age she begins to motor down the hall, barging orderlies out of the way with impossible strength for her frame.
As she rushes down the hall she attracts many a confused glance from patients, orderlies, nurses and doctors alike, her presence and demeanour temporarily bringing them all to a halt. The hush that has fallen across the hallway is somewhat eerie, but only lasts for a few seconds before they start about their business once more, deciding to ignore the impossibly fast Pensioner.
Ignorance is not an option for the young male behind the Nurses Station as Mrs Levene reaches her destination, rapidly placing her purse upon the counter, and slamming both her hands upon it. She leans forward whilst trying to regain her breath, her face red and her eyes almost bulging out of their sockets.]
Old Lady Levene – ‘Where....is....he...?’
[The Retiree’s words are punctuated by short, sharp breaths and the Nurse just looks down on her with a puzzled look upon his face, not quite sure if he should already know the answer, and who ‘he’ is]
OLL – ‘WHERE....IS...HE!?!’[/b][/color]
[The drastic change in tone, pitch and level of the Old Woman’s voice startles the young man who in response drops the pen he held in his hand directly into a cup of luke warm coffee, splashing the brown substance across Old Lady Levene’s woollen coat, surprisingly she barely blinks as she maintains eye contact with the young man, he manages to compose himself and utter a response.]
Nurse – ‘I’m sorry if this sounds rude, but who are you looking for, we have had a number of intakes today...’
OLL – ‘My grandson, who the hell do you think?’
Nurse – ‘Who is?’
OLL – ‘TATE LEVENE[/i]’[/color]
Nurse – ‘Ah Mrs Levene, please take a seat in family room number four, down the hall to your right, Dr O’Dea will be with you in a few moments...’
OLL -‘NO! I DEMAND TO SEE HIM NOW...’
Nurse – ‘I’m afraid that is impossible, he is being prepped for surgery as we speak, please Dr O’Dea will only be a few mo...’
[The man is stopped in his tracks as Old Lady Levene breaks down in front of him, her legs go to Jelly and she clings to the counter whilst opening weeping in distress. Wordlessly the Nurse calls over an orderly and motions for him to support GIW’s Senior Enforcer and escort her to the family room. Old Lady Levene does not resist, she merely clings to the man’s shirt, wailing as she walks down the hall with him, until she takes a seat in the private room, and slowly ceases her tears and composes herself, just as Dr O’Dea walks in]
Dr O’Dea – ‘Mrs Levene...’
[Old Lady Levene turns her head, and all the aggravation and difficulties she had given the Nurse melt away, her eyes wide, she just looks at the Doctor, wordlessly implores the Doctor to enlighten her.]
Dr O’Dea – ‘Mrs Levene, we are currently prepping your Grandson for surgery, I will not lie to you he is in critical condition and has lost a lot of blood, Mr Robert’s gunshot did a great deal of damage...’
[Old Lady Levees face instantly changes once more,her eyes narrow, her lips become thinner and her body becomes more rigid, her hands bunch into tight fists, fingernails digging into her palms.]
OLL – ‘Travis...shot...Tate?’
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roughly 5 Hours Earlier In A Hotel in San Antonio Hotel Room
’I’ve been a bad Agent’
[The rotund frame of Tate Levene stands in front of a leather sofa, upon which The Unified Global Champion reclines across, with a pre-rolled delicacy in his hand. Apparently until now he had not been aware of his agent’s presence, despite his immense mass and incapability to remain quiet, and as he speaks The Headliner’ turns his head and jerks it back in surprise at the appearance of Tate. ]
Tate – ‘You took a gamble on me, you could have given an experienced agent this psotion, but you came to me, and I’ve neglected my position...’
Travis – ‘Have you come here with any information ‘The Blessed One’ wasn’t aware of, because Travis Roberts would much rather lie back and contemplate Moss Edwards’ sudden reveal of an apparent plan to gain The Unified Global Championship by ignoring ‘The Headliner’ to justify weeks of ambivalence and distraction, it’s infinitely more entertaining, and frankly, unexpected than where this conversation seems to be going. Put short, yes you are useless, you’re a Levene it’s not your fault, apparently it’s genetic, but I forgive you. Now leave ‘The TWiSTeD Icon’ in peace to enjoy the fantastical ramblings of The Auteur will you?’
Tate – ‘In the past I would have just gone away, but I know I can’t. Your interview with Moss Edwards got me thinking, we don’t see enough of you outside of GIW Programming anymore, and before I came here you were always doing interviews and Press Conferences...but now, now you don’t do any...and that’s my fault?’
[Travis takes a drag on his delicacy and swings his legs off the couch and sits forward looking up, over his Aviators at The Chubby Little Funster and responds]
Travis – ‘Whilst it’s a novel experience to see you actually engaging your brain for a change, Travis Roberts would have to point out Moss Edwards is the last person to seek inspiration from. He’s a filmmaker, a bad one but a filmmaker none the less, and these individuals have no grasp on reality, they live in a fantasy world, a world where the laws of science, nature and common sense do not provide the barriers they do in reality. That kind of inspiration will have you believing you can soar like an eagle, and end up taking a swan dive off a large building....’
Tate – ‘You inspired me, I went and watched your old work back, and you were amazing, anywhere we went you drew huge crowds, you were like a rock star, and now the public barely see you, and that is a great loss...and as Gran says, you need to represent your compa...’
[Travis swiftly stands and towers over his agent, he takes a long drag on his smoke before exhaling and leaning in and talking slowly and precisely...]
Travis – ‘Do not...mention that woman, in my presence...’
Tate – ‘that’s not fair she’s my gran...’
Travis – ‘You said it yourself, you were lucky to get this position, how lucky do you feel having kept it, since that bitch of a Grandmother of yours started sticking her nose into ‘The Blessed Ones’ affairs? You’re incredibly lucky ‘The Headliner’ hasn’t made an example of you...’
[Tate shuffles uncomfortably, but realises he will not win any arguments on this subject, and decides to stay calm in the hope of one day reconciling the two major parts of his life]
Tate – ‘Well I want her to leave you alone too, that’s why I’ve got to be a better agent, and I’ve got you a gig.’
[At the start of the sentence Travis began to lower himself back into his chair, but by the end he has snapped upright and rigid once more, again towering over his Agent.]
Travis – ‘What?’
Tate – ‘I got you a gig...’
[‘The Headliner’ slowly removes his glasses, folds them up and puts them in his top pocket, he then looks Tate Levene directly in the eyes, causing the young man to shuffle his feet again]
Travis – ‘A...gig?
Tate – ‘Yeah...a photo shoot followed by interviews for local Texas new stations...’
Travis – ‘I hope for your sake you are joking...’
Tate – ‘No...the car will be here in...’
[Tate Levene is cut short as ‘The Blessed One’ grabs him by the shirt and slams his huge frame into the hotel wall, causing a large mirror to smash as it falls off the wall...he pulls his face within an inch of his Agents face, a face that is creased in fear, holding back tears...]
Travis – ‘Who in the name of TWiSTeD gave you the authority to do that. Where do you get the nerve to try and dictate what ‘The Headliner’ does? Did you’re fucking grandmother put you up to this, are you working with her now, are you trying to get your ass kicked!Huh?...HUH!?!?!’
[Travis breathes heavily into Tate’s face as he reveals his deep set paranoia’s and The Chubby Little Funster allows a single tear to escape and run down his face...]
Tate – ‘I....I...I...just....wanted....to....help...’
[Travis receives a moment of clarity and almost as if he sees himself from the outside he lets go of Tate, who just crumples to the floor and clutches his knees as he looks up at Travis in fear of what will erupt next. Travis though recoils, and quickly fumbles for his glasses to cover his eyes, and turns away from the victim of his rage...clearly ashamed of what has just gone down...]
Travis – ‘Whatever...I suppose ‘The Blessed One’ will have to go, ‘The Headliner’ never no-shows an appointment...’
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[The scene reopens in the back of stretched limo, ‘The Headliner’ as ever is reclining, along the back, though this time his pre-rolled is replaced by a White Russian. Tate sits on the left listening as Travis enlightens him on the subject of Moss Edwards.]
Travis – ‘...see it’s all very well to claim ‘The Headliner’ underestimates the rest of the card, but where is the proof? The rest of the card spent months in fear of facing Randy Boolzian, no-one could get his number in that ring, no-one apart from Travis Roberts. ‘The Headliner’ has sat on top of the pile for over half a year, he has faced the apparent ‘best’ this company has to offer and has barely had to break sweat. Can anyone truly claim jack Severino, RBI, Gabrielle, Alex Kiseragi, Komosube, Brandon Brown, Donovan Hastings....or even Moss Edwards could lead this company anywhere near as stylishly and consistently as ‘The Blessed One’...
Of course it’s not a surprise Moss Edwards is clutching at straws, grasping at the side of the sheer drop, because he is a man who strives for critical acclaim, strives to be the box office draw. It is painful to Moss Edwards that whenever Travis Roberts opens his mouth it is top of the bill, and no matter how hard he tries Moss cannot recreate that kind of magic on a weekly basis. To his credit the fans tune in each week hoping to see something breathtaking and innovative from The Auteur, they hope because they have seen it in evidence before, but the fans know they will get all that and more, each and every week from ‘The Headliner’....
Let’s be honest his greatest achievement in the run up to Battleground has been to make ‘The Headliner’ look like a bad pornographer. In Moss’ fantasy world ‘The Blessed One’ is losing endless nights of sleep, worrying that his bootlegged movie will somehow reach the people living in caves that don’t already know who Travis Roberts is. In reality ‘The Blessed One’ is more concerned with the level of challenge laid in front of him, pulling a stunt even Chris Austin would realise was a bad idea....but maybe he’s been so obsessed with Randy that the RBI’s biggest flaw has enveloped Moss too. Despite his hasty excuses, the whole world knows Moss Edwards wanted BoolZ in the ring...not in another continent, despite his protestations to the contrary.’
Tate – ‘Don’t forget any of this for the interviews...’
Travis – ‘How could ‘The Headliner’ forget? It’s provided entertainment for hours, besides Travis Roberts has faith enough that the Journalists will have noticed the gaping holes in Moss’ thinking and raise the question of his inadequacy in regards to the Unified Global Championship. I can almost hear the questions now, ‘Moss Edwards burst onto the scene in a manner resembling Randy Boolzian, he blazed a trail, but since becoming the sole contender for your title, would you agree he seems to have found the pressure and expectation overwhelming?’...That question alone could fill more pages than a Dylan James comeback article.’
Tate – ‘Does such a thing exist...’
Travis – ‘TWiSTeD hopes not...’
Tate – ‘We’ll be there in a minute...’
[The Headliner rolls down the window and looks across vast wilderness]
Travis – ‘You sure? Travis Roberts doesn’t see any buildings that could house a professional photography studio for miles around...’
Tate – ‘The photographers and journalists are meeting us at the location.’
[The camera pans in and focuses on ‘The Headliners’ reaction as he raises his eyebrows...]
Travis – ‘Location?
Tate – ‘Yeah, we’re going to a ranch...’
[Travis swings his legs from a reclining position once more, and leans in...’
Travis – ‘A working one...with animals?’
Tate – ‘Yeah, a working ranch...’
Travis – ‘For the love of all that is TWiSTeD, first you drag ‘The Headliner’ on a photo shoot without his permission, then you spring animals on him...’The Blessed One’ does not do animals...and you know that...’
Tate – ‘What? How should I know that, you’ve never mentioned it...’
Travis – ‘Are you being serious? Are you being fucking serious? Have you forgotten about the damn Penguin!!!’
Tate – ‘You don’t get many Penguins on ranches...’
[Tate’s efforts to subdue the situation with humour are greatly unsuccessful serving merely to infuriate Travis even more.]
Travis – ‘Trying to be smart now? Like your damn grandmother? Huh? You think you’re smarter than ‘The Blessed One’ that you and that wrinkled old bitch know better than ‘The Most Influential Icon In Sports Entertainment’, you are so close to seeing a side of Travis Roberts you never want to experience, because believe me...it won’t be a long experience....’
[Travis has leant in so far, once more his face lies inches from his agents head, as Tate trembles in front of him. Suddenly the card jerks to a halt...]
Travis – ‘There better not be a horse involved...’
[Tate takes a nervous gulp of air as the passenger door swings open and the limousine driver informs his passengers they have arrived, and as Travis climbs out of the car he turns towards Tate...]
Travis – ‘And if there are guns involved...you better pray that they’re not loaded...’
[Travis exits the car, and Tate nervously shuffles towards the exit, and just as he goes to climb out ‘The Blessed One’ slams the door hard in his face]
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[The scene reopens to the bright glare of the Texas sunlight, and the awkward sight of Travis Roberts in a cowboy hat & long overcoat looking down with an air of both uncertainty and extreme frustration at the reigns of the saddle attached to the horse he feared would be involved. His other hand clutching the gun Tate feared. The Chubby Little not so Funster stands with the photographers and journalists doing his best to avoid eye contact with his boss. A Horse Wrangler stands to the side.]
Wrangler – ‘Jessie is used to this, don’t ya worry ‘bout a thing Buddy...’
[Travis looks back down at Jessie with contempt, and looks across at the huddled photographers, and one shouts out...]
Photographer – ‘Fire some shots off in the air, it’ll look great...’
BANG[/i]
Wrangler – ‘I’ll be damned, she ain’t ever done that before...
[At the sound of the gunshot Jessie rears up, causing Travis to grip on with his free hand with all his strength. The pressure ‘The Headliner’ exerts on the reigns causes Jessie to be spooked even more, and she bolts off, flinging ’The Headliner’ off backwards. As he falls we cut to slow motion, his back thudding into the grounds, the arms and hand that contain the firearms slowly following...pointed in the direction of Tate Levene...]
’You better pray that they’re not loaded’
[Travis’ hand hits the floor, and tightens, as the footage resumes to normal speed.]
BANG[/i]
[This is Texas....of course the gun was loaded.]
Almost immediately we here a ‘Ping!’ as the elevator reaches this floor, and as the doors open we catch sight of the woollen overcoat wearing Old Lady Levene, her fists bunched around the handle of her purse, and a look of concern splashed across her face. Once the doors have opened enough for GIW’s Senior Enforcer to squeeze through, she does so and with speed that seems out of place on a woman her age she begins to motor down the hall, barging orderlies out of the way with impossible strength for her frame.
As she rushes down the hall she attracts many a confused glance from patients, orderlies, nurses and doctors alike, her presence and demeanour temporarily bringing them all to a halt. The hush that has fallen across the hallway is somewhat eerie, but only lasts for a few seconds before they start about their business once more, deciding to ignore the impossibly fast Pensioner.
Ignorance is not an option for the young male behind the Nurses Station as Mrs Levene reaches her destination, rapidly placing her purse upon the counter, and slamming both her hands upon it. She leans forward whilst trying to regain her breath, her face red and her eyes almost bulging out of their sockets.]
Old Lady Levene – ‘Where....is....he...?’
[The Retiree’s words are punctuated by short, sharp breaths and the Nurse just looks down on her with a puzzled look upon his face, not quite sure if he should already know the answer, and who ‘he’ is]
OLL – ‘WHERE....IS...HE!?!’[/b][/color]
[The drastic change in tone, pitch and level of the Old Woman’s voice startles the young man who in response drops the pen he held in his hand directly into a cup of luke warm coffee, splashing the brown substance across Old Lady Levene’s woollen coat, surprisingly she barely blinks as she maintains eye contact with the young man, he manages to compose himself and utter a response.]
Nurse – ‘I’m sorry if this sounds rude, but who are you looking for, we have had a number of intakes today...’
OLL – ‘My grandson, who the hell do you think?’
Nurse – ‘Who is?’
OLL – ‘TATE LEVENE[/i]’[/color]
Nurse – ‘Ah Mrs Levene, please take a seat in family room number four, down the hall to your right, Dr O’Dea will be with you in a few moments...’
OLL -‘NO! I DEMAND TO SEE HIM NOW...’
Nurse – ‘I’m afraid that is impossible, he is being prepped for surgery as we speak, please Dr O’Dea will only be a few mo...’
[The man is stopped in his tracks as Old Lady Levene breaks down in front of him, her legs go to Jelly and she clings to the counter whilst opening weeping in distress. Wordlessly the Nurse calls over an orderly and motions for him to support GIW’s Senior Enforcer and escort her to the family room. Old Lady Levene does not resist, she merely clings to the man’s shirt, wailing as she walks down the hall with him, until she takes a seat in the private room, and slowly ceases her tears and composes herself, just as Dr O’Dea walks in]
Dr O’Dea – ‘Mrs Levene...’
[Old Lady Levene turns her head, and all the aggravation and difficulties she had given the Nurse melt away, her eyes wide, she just looks at the Doctor, wordlessly implores the Doctor to enlighten her.]
Dr O’Dea – ‘Mrs Levene, we are currently prepping your Grandson for surgery, I will not lie to you he is in critical condition and has lost a lot of blood, Mr Robert’s gunshot did a great deal of damage...’
[Old Lady Levees face instantly changes once more,her eyes narrow, her lips become thinner and her body becomes more rigid, her hands bunch into tight fists, fingernails digging into her palms.]
OLL – ‘Travis...shot...Tate?’
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roughly 5 Hours Earlier In A Hotel in San Antonio Hotel Room
’I’ve been a bad Agent’
[The rotund frame of Tate Levene stands in front of a leather sofa, upon which The Unified Global Champion reclines across, with a pre-rolled delicacy in his hand. Apparently until now he had not been aware of his agent’s presence, despite his immense mass and incapability to remain quiet, and as he speaks The Headliner’ turns his head and jerks it back in surprise at the appearance of Tate. ]
Tate – ‘You took a gamble on me, you could have given an experienced agent this psotion, but you came to me, and I’ve neglected my position...’
Travis – ‘Have you come here with any information ‘The Blessed One’ wasn’t aware of, because Travis Roberts would much rather lie back and contemplate Moss Edwards’ sudden reveal of an apparent plan to gain The Unified Global Championship by ignoring ‘The Headliner’ to justify weeks of ambivalence and distraction, it’s infinitely more entertaining, and frankly, unexpected than where this conversation seems to be going. Put short, yes you are useless, you’re a Levene it’s not your fault, apparently it’s genetic, but I forgive you. Now leave ‘The TWiSTeD Icon’ in peace to enjoy the fantastical ramblings of The Auteur will you?’
Tate – ‘In the past I would have just gone away, but I know I can’t. Your interview with Moss Edwards got me thinking, we don’t see enough of you outside of GIW Programming anymore, and before I came here you were always doing interviews and Press Conferences...but now, now you don’t do any...and that’s my fault?’
[Travis takes a drag on his delicacy and swings his legs off the couch and sits forward looking up, over his Aviators at The Chubby Little Funster and responds]
Travis – ‘Whilst it’s a novel experience to see you actually engaging your brain for a change, Travis Roberts would have to point out Moss Edwards is the last person to seek inspiration from. He’s a filmmaker, a bad one but a filmmaker none the less, and these individuals have no grasp on reality, they live in a fantasy world, a world where the laws of science, nature and common sense do not provide the barriers they do in reality. That kind of inspiration will have you believing you can soar like an eagle, and end up taking a swan dive off a large building....’
Tate – ‘You inspired me, I went and watched your old work back, and you were amazing, anywhere we went you drew huge crowds, you were like a rock star, and now the public barely see you, and that is a great loss...and as Gran says, you need to represent your compa...’
[Travis swiftly stands and towers over his agent, he takes a long drag on his smoke before exhaling and leaning in and talking slowly and precisely...]
Travis – ‘Do not...mention that woman, in my presence...’
Tate – ‘that’s not fair she’s my gran...’
Travis – ‘You said it yourself, you were lucky to get this position, how lucky do you feel having kept it, since that bitch of a Grandmother of yours started sticking her nose into ‘The Blessed Ones’ affairs? You’re incredibly lucky ‘The Headliner’ hasn’t made an example of you...’
[Tate shuffles uncomfortably, but realises he will not win any arguments on this subject, and decides to stay calm in the hope of one day reconciling the two major parts of his life]
Tate – ‘Well I want her to leave you alone too, that’s why I’ve got to be a better agent, and I’ve got you a gig.’
[At the start of the sentence Travis began to lower himself back into his chair, but by the end he has snapped upright and rigid once more, again towering over his Agent.]
Travis – ‘What?’
Tate – ‘I got you a gig...’
[‘The Headliner’ slowly removes his glasses, folds them up and puts them in his top pocket, he then looks Tate Levene directly in the eyes, causing the young man to shuffle his feet again]
Travis – ‘A...gig?
Tate – ‘Yeah...a photo shoot followed by interviews for local Texas new stations...’
Travis – ‘I hope for your sake you are joking...’
Tate – ‘No...the car will be here in...’
[Tate Levene is cut short as ‘The Blessed One’ grabs him by the shirt and slams his huge frame into the hotel wall, causing a large mirror to smash as it falls off the wall...he pulls his face within an inch of his Agents face, a face that is creased in fear, holding back tears...]
Travis – ‘Who in the name of TWiSTeD gave you the authority to do that. Where do you get the nerve to try and dictate what ‘The Headliner’ does? Did you’re fucking grandmother put you up to this, are you working with her now, are you trying to get your ass kicked!Huh?...HUH!?!?!’
[Travis breathes heavily into Tate’s face as he reveals his deep set paranoia’s and The Chubby Little Funster allows a single tear to escape and run down his face...]
Tate – ‘I....I...I...just....wanted....to....help...’
[Travis receives a moment of clarity and almost as if he sees himself from the outside he lets go of Tate, who just crumples to the floor and clutches his knees as he looks up at Travis in fear of what will erupt next. Travis though recoils, and quickly fumbles for his glasses to cover his eyes, and turns away from the victim of his rage...clearly ashamed of what has just gone down...]
Travis – ‘Whatever...I suppose ‘The Blessed One’ will have to go, ‘The Headliner’ never no-shows an appointment...’
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[The scene reopens in the back of stretched limo, ‘The Headliner’ as ever is reclining, along the back, though this time his pre-rolled is replaced by a White Russian. Tate sits on the left listening as Travis enlightens him on the subject of Moss Edwards.]
Travis – ‘...see it’s all very well to claim ‘The Headliner’ underestimates the rest of the card, but where is the proof? The rest of the card spent months in fear of facing Randy Boolzian, no-one could get his number in that ring, no-one apart from Travis Roberts. ‘The Headliner’ has sat on top of the pile for over half a year, he has faced the apparent ‘best’ this company has to offer and has barely had to break sweat. Can anyone truly claim jack Severino, RBI, Gabrielle, Alex Kiseragi, Komosube, Brandon Brown, Donovan Hastings....or even Moss Edwards could lead this company anywhere near as stylishly and consistently as ‘The Blessed One’...
Of course it’s not a surprise Moss Edwards is clutching at straws, grasping at the side of the sheer drop, because he is a man who strives for critical acclaim, strives to be the box office draw. It is painful to Moss Edwards that whenever Travis Roberts opens his mouth it is top of the bill, and no matter how hard he tries Moss cannot recreate that kind of magic on a weekly basis. To his credit the fans tune in each week hoping to see something breathtaking and innovative from The Auteur, they hope because they have seen it in evidence before, but the fans know they will get all that and more, each and every week from ‘The Headliner’....
Let’s be honest his greatest achievement in the run up to Battleground has been to make ‘The Headliner’ look like a bad pornographer. In Moss’ fantasy world ‘The Blessed One’ is losing endless nights of sleep, worrying that his bootlegged movie will somehow reach the people living in caves that don’t already know who Travis Roberts is. In reality ‘The Blessed One’ is more concerned with the level of challenge laid in front of him, pulling a stunt even Chris Austin would realise was a bad idea....but maybe he’s been so obsessed with Randy that the RBI’s biggest flaw has enveloped Moss too. Despite his hasty excuses, the whole world knows Moss Edwards wanted BoolZ in the ring...not in another continent, despite his protestations to the contrary.’
Tate – ‘Don’t forget any of this for the interviews...’
Travis – ‘How could ‘The Headliner’ forget? It’s provided entertainment for hours, besides Travis Roberts has faith enough that the Journalists will have noticed the gaping holes in Moss’ thinking and raise the question of his inadequacy in regards to the Unified Global Championship. I can almost hear the questions now, ‘Moss Edwards burst onto the scene in a manner resembling Randy Boolzian, he blazed a trail, but since becoming the sole contender for your title, would you agree he seems to have found the pressure and expectation overwhelming?’...That question alone could fill more pages than a Dylan James comeback article.’
Tate – ‘Does such a thing exist...’
Travis – ‘TWiSTeD hopes not...’
Tate – ‘We’ll be there in a minute...’
[The Headliner rolls down the window and looks across vast wilderness]
Travis – ‘You sure? Travis Roberts doesn’t see any buildings that could house a professional photography studio for miles around...’
Tate – ‘The photographers and journalists are meeting us at the location.’
[The camera pans in and focuses on ‘The Headliners’ reaction as he raises his eyebrows...]
Travis – ‘Location?
Tate – ‘Yeah, we’re going to a ranch...’
[Travis swings his legs from a reclining position once more, and leans in...’
Travis – ‘A working one...with animals?’
Tate – ‘Yeah, a working ranch...’
Travis – ‘For the love of all that is TWiSTeD, first you drag ‘The Headliner’ on a photo shoot without his permission, then you spring animals on him...’The Blessed One’ does not do animals...and you know that...’
Tate – ‘What? How should I know that, you’ve never mentioned it...’
Travis – ‘Are you being serious? Are you being fucking serious? Have you forgotten about the damn Penguin!!!’
Tate – ‘You don’t get many Penguins on ranches...’
[Tate’s efforts to subdue the situation with humour are greatly unsuccessful serving merely to infuriate Travis even more.]
Travis – ‘Trying to be smart now? Like your damn grandmother? Huh? You think you’re smarter than ‘The Blessed One’ that you and that wrinkled old bitch know better than ‘The Most Influential Icon In Sports Entertainment’, you are so close to seeing a side of Travis Roberts you never want to experience, because believe me...it won’t be a long experience....’
[Travis has leant in so far, once more his face lies inches from his agents head, as Tate trembles in front of him. Suddenly the card jerks to a halt...]
Travis – ‘There better not be a horse involved...’
[Tate takes a nervous gulp of air as the passenger door swings open and the limousine driver informs his passengers they have arrived, and as Travis climbs out of the car he turns towards Tate...]
Travis – ‘And if there are guns involved...you better pray that they’re not loaded...’
[Travis exits the car, and Tate nervously shuffles towards the exit, and just as he goes to climb out ‘The Blessed One’ slams the door hard in his face]
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[The scene reopens to the bright glare of the Texas sunlight, and the awkward sight of Travis Roberts in a cowboy hat & long overcoat looking down with an air of both uncertainty and extreme frustration at the reigns of the saddle attached to the horse he feared would be involved. His other hand clutching the gun Tate feared. The Chubby Little not so Funster stands with the photographers and journalists doing his best to avoid eye contact with his boss. A Horse Wrangler stands to the side.]
Wrangler – ‘Jessie is used to this, don’t ya worry ‘bout a thing Buddy...’
[Travis looks back down at Jessie with contempt, and looks across at the huddled photographers, and one shouts out...]
Photographer – ‘Fire some shots off in the air, it’ll look great...’
BANG[/i]
Wrangler – ‘I’ll be damned, she ain’t ever done that before...
[At the sound of the gunshot Jessie rears up, causing Travis to grip on with his free hand with all his strength. The pressure ‘The Headliner’ exerts on the reigns causes Jessie to be spooked even more, and she bolts off, flinging ’The Headliner’ off backwards. As he falls we cut to slow motion, his back thudding into the grounds, the arms and hand that contain the firearms slowly following...pointed in the direction of Tate Levene...]
’You better pray that they’re not loaded’
[Travis’ hand hits the floor, and tightens, as the footage resumes to normal speed.]
BANG[/i]
[This is Texas....of course the gun was loaded.]
x2