Post by Zane on Dec 11, 2015 21:36:24 GMT -5
“Excuse me, Mr. Pierce. There’s a messenger here for you.” The young secretary standing at the door to the office of “The Consortium” tells the Creative Director.
Travis Pierce looks up from his desk with a smile.
“Send it in, please.” He replies.
“Yes sir.” She replies before turning and nodding at someone. “You may go in, sir.”
As she turns and walks away from the door a skinny little man in what looks like a bellhop’s uniform comes shuffling through the door. The baby faced man doesn’t fit well in his outfit as it looks to be at least a size too big. It’s so big in fact that its making the uniform look he just pulled it out of the hamper, gave it the “smell test” and threw it on before walking into the arena. Pierce looks at his two members in “The Consortium” to find it to be clear that while neither man has any idea what’s going on, that both of them are incredibly amused by the situation as they both have really stupid looking grins on their faces. It stands out the most on “Ol’ Bob” because as we all know, he rarely smiles about anything.
Pierce turns back to the messenger, who barely manages to walk up to his desk without tripping over his own pants. He grabs his waist band and gives his pants one good upward yank, somehow managing to not squash his own...well...“manhood” in the process. Pierce observes the act with an obvious wince while “Ol’ Bob” barely stifles a guffaw and Vines emits a slightly strangled sound. The kid tips his cap to Pierce and smiles. Pierce looks back at him, clearly perplexed.
“Is there something I can help you with ?” He asks.
The kid puts his small roundish hat bat on and fishes around in his pocket. He pulls out a small card and an envelope.
“Yes sir !” He proclaims with far more enthusiasm than anyone dressed like him has any right to display. “I have a telegram for you.”
The kid pauses, at which point Pierce opens his mouth to say something only to have the kid blurt something out at him.
“And an envelope, which I was asked to deliver.” He half mutters. “That’s so unusual...”
The second statement sort of trails off into nowhere. Pierce closes his mouth and shakes his head as both “Ol’ Bob” and Vines stifle the chuckles of their rapidly growing amusement at the whole spectacle. The kid hands the envelope over to Pierce, who takes it and looks at it. It has one word written on it.
"It says 'asshole'." Pierce says when he sees it. "Typical."
He rolls his eyes and grabs the letter opener from his desk when the kid interrupts him.
“You don’t have to do that, sir.” He explains. “It’s not sealed.”
Pierce raises an eyebrow and slowly places the letter opener back on his desk, then opens the envelope and pulls two pieces of ruled paper out of it and lets out an exasperated sigh.
“What’s the matter, Sharp ?” Ol’ Bob asks through another amused guffaw.
Pierce goes to answer when the delivery kid interrupts again.
“Sharp ?” He asks. “Oh no ! Have I delivered it to the wrong person ? This is for a Mr. Travis Pierce !”
Pierce’s mouth drops open in an almost cartoonish manner before it slowly closes again. “Ol’ Bob” picks up the heavy lifting and answers for him while Vines clamps his right hand over his mouth and stifles a laugh.
“Sharp...Pierce...” Ol’ Bob explains. “Get it ?”
The kid looks over at him with a genuinely dumbfounded expression.
“No.” He replies. “Is that supposed to be funny ?”
“Ol’ Bob” reaches under his desk for “Louis” only to be stopped by Pierce.
“Let it go, Bob.” He says.
“Ol’ Bob puts “Louis” down on his desk where the kid can see it and glowers at him menacingly. Pierce looks over at the kid and gestures for him to continue.
“Don’t worry about him.” He says. “He’s not going to hurt you.”
“Ol’ Bob wouldn’t be so sure of that if Ol’ Bob was you.” “Ol’ Bob growls.
The kid looks at him and swallows hard. Really hard. As in “trying to choke down a bowling ball” hard and then looks back at Pierce.
“If you say so, sir.” He answers. “Anyway, I have this telegram for you.”
“You already gave me the letter.” Pierce says. “Isn’t that it ?”
“No sir.” The kid says, shaking his head. “This is a singing telegram.”
Pierce closes his eyes and shakes his head again as both “Ol’ Bob” and Vines burst out laughing at the same time. This seems to relax the kid a little bit as he gives both of them a quick look and a nervous smile before he looks back at Pierce, who is pulling his hand away from his face.
“Zane...” Pierce says irritably.
“May I continue sir ?” The kid asks.
“Do.” Ol’ Bob answers. “Ol’ Bob hasn’t had a laugh like this since Shangri-la and Conceited beat the shit out of each other.”
The kid answers the statement with a dumbfounded look before he shrugs and looks back at Pierce. He clears his throat, pulls out a harmonica and blows a single note with it.
“December tenth, two-thousand and fifteen !” He bellows.
Well, as close to a “bellow” as he can manage. Pierce exhales and shakes his head while “Ol’ Bob” and Vines start to laugh again.
“Pierce!!!”
He makes the name of the Creative Director sound far more dramatic than it should and pauses dramatically for the comma. The kid takes pride in his work.
“First of all, fuck you !”
The kid stops as his face screws up in confusion and he looks down at the telegram.
“That can’t be right.” He stammers. “I’m so sorry ! I’m...it’s not...oh my...”
Pierce waves his hand dismissively.
“Don’t worry about it, kid.” He replies. “The person that wrote this has as much class as a dive titty bar. Just read it. I know it’s not you.”
The kid exhales in obvious relief.
“Thank you. Where was I ?” He looks down at the telegram and begins again.
“First of alllllllllll !” He bellows. (What, it’s an amusing visual ?)
“You can skip that part.” Pierce says. “We got it the first time.”
“No.” “Ol’ Bob” interrupts. “Ol’ Bob wants to hear it again !”
Pierce shoots him a withering look.
“He really doesn’t have to.” He replies.
“‘Ol’ Bob’ enjoyed that part so much.” He says, placing his right hand on “Louis”. “‘Ol’ Bob’ would like to hear it again.”
The messenger looks from “Ol’ Bob” to Pierce and shrugs apologetically.
“Sorry, sir.” He replies. “But he has a baseball bat.”
“Fine.” Pierce says, waving his hand dismissively as he rests his chin in his other hand.
“First of all, FUCK YOUUUUUUU !!!!!!”
He pauses and looks at “Ol’ Bob”, who gives him a mocking thumbs up in return. Vines laughs again, although it’s muffled by his hand. Pierce lets out another exasperated sigh. The kid looks back at him with a worried look.
“Again, I’m sorry sir.” He squeaks.
“Don’t be.” Pierce replies. “Just get this shit-show over with.”
The messenger takes a deep breath and blows a slightly off key note through his harmonica. All three men in the room wince at the sound of it. The messenger appears not to notice as he resumes the song.
“Now that I have that out of the way, let’s get to business. Monday is our big day. At ‘Horizons’ we’ll put all of the bullshit between us to an end.”
He pauses to take a breath, scan the next line and continue.
“Speaking of ‘bullshit’”. He pauses and looks up at Pierce again.
“He’s really foul mouthed.” He says.
Pierce nods. “Yes. Shakespeare he isn’t. Please continue.”
The messenger nods and looks at the paper to see where he left off. Spotting his place, he smiles, takes a breath and continues.
“I noticed that you decided to make good Ol’ Bob your wingman for our soiree.”
He turns and looks at the other two men.
“Which one is Bob ?” He asks.
Ol’ Bob picks “Louis” up and glowers menacingly at the messenger. The kid looks from him to the bat and then to Pierce.
“Is he gonna hit me with that thing ?” He asks.
Pierce just shrugs. Ol’ Bob answers the question for him.
“Ol’ Bob’ will use ‘Louis’ on you if you don’t get on with this.” He replies belligerently. “Ol’ Bob’ is enjoying this little…whatever it is. It’s fun to watch Sharp squirm.”
The kid looks at him and swallows hard then looks back at Pierce. He looks at the page and takes another breath.
“I know what you’re going to whine at me; ‘Zane, Bob doesn’t like anyone. How does making him our referee help me ?’” He pauses to take a breath.
“That’s easy !” He belts out the two word phrase as if he’s Pavarotti singing “Ave Maria” at the Met. All three men in the room visibly wince, especially Ol’ Bob who picks up “Louis” and acts like he’s going to hit himself in the heat before he thinks better of it and looks at Vines, who throws his hands up defensively. Ol’ Bob shrugs and puts “Louis” down as the kid resumes singing.
“He may not ‘like’ youuuuuuu, but he HATES meeeeee !!!!!” He bellows, doing the “air quotes” for the word “like”. He continues. “Believe me, the feeling is quite mu-tu-al. Even be-fore I caved his fat head in with the ‘Lord of Pain-Killer’ a few weeeeeeks ago, he and I had a looooooong history of hating each other!!!”
He looks down at the page in bewilderment and when what he’s just sung dawns on him he looks at Ol’ Bob, aghast.
“Did he actually hit you with...whatever the ‘Lord of Pain-Killer’ is ?” He cries. “That’s horrible !”
“It’s a steel chair.” Pierce interjects. “And yes, he hit Bob with it. Please, get on with this. We still have another page of it left and I feel a growing headache.”
“Yes.” Ol’ Bob says. “Get going. Skip the parts about chair shots to Ol’ Bob’s head unless you want to get better acquainted with ‘Louis’.”
Pierce looks at Ol’ Bob.
“Fair’s fair, Bob.” He says. “If I have to suffer through this, so do you.”
“Fuck fair.” Ol’ Bob says. “‘Ol Bob’ doesn’t have to sit through this. ‘Ol’ Bob’ is only sitting through it because of the visible pain that it’s causing you.”
Pierce rolls his eyes and looks back at the kid, then gestures for him to continue. He takes another breath, blows another note in his harmonica and resumes.
“‘Horizons’ is the perfect chance for him to get even with me !” He croons. “Don’t think that this hasn’t occurred to himmmm ! I expect him to referee as fairly as I expect you to take responsibility for your bullshiiiiit !”
He pauses again and crinkles up his nose in disgust before he continues.
“Santa might be real too!”
He looks at Pierce.
“This song doesn’t flow very well.” He says.
Pierce lets out a sigh as both “Ol’ Bob” and Vines stifle laughter.
“I know.” He replies. “There’s nothing we can do about that. You’re doing a good job with the...material...that you have.”
“Thank you !” The kid replies as he lights up with a gigantic smile.
“Sure.” Pierce replies.
The kid puffs out his chest a little bit and picks up where he left off.
“So my leg is shit and you have a broken wrist !” He bellows. “Fair’s fairrrrr!!!”
His face pales as he looks up at Pierce.
“He broke your wrist?” He asks in a pained voice.
Pierce holds up his casted arm. The kid puts his right hand to his mouth and squeals in terror.
“What a brute !” He exclaims. “I don’t like this man ! He seemed nicer when he gave me this!”
“He’s not nice.” Pierce replies. “And you probably weren’t talking to him. Was he glowering at you the entire time ?”
The kid looks at him in confusion and shrugs.
"No." He replies. "He was smiling and friendly."
Pierce shakes his head no as Ol' Bob answers with a derisive grunt.
"That wasn't Zane." Pierce answers. "He almost never smiles and he's never friendly."
“Ok.” He replies. “Anyway. Where was I ?”
Ol’ Bob chuckles.
“Motivating Sharp to consider suicide.”
The kid crinkles up his nose in disgust and looks at the second “page” of the letter.
“If you want to make things really interestingggg, !” He belts out. “Wear a soft cast, that was you don’t come into the match arrrrrmed!!!!”
His brow furrows.
“See what I did therrrrrrre?!!”
He looks up at Pierce.
“He’s not funny either.” He says. "And who puts a parenthetic statement in a place like that ?"
Pierce looks up at the ceiling before looking back at him.
“Tell me about it.” He replies. "And Zane has a high school education, and I'm not sure that he graduated."
The kid continues, much to Pierce’s distress and Ol’ Bob’s and Vines amusement.
“I assume that you’ll take every advantage you can get. I’ll have funnnn destroying that cast, even if it’s with my heeeeead and I’ll cripple that wrist for good along with it if you wear the hard oneeee!!!!”
He pauses to take a breath. He opens his mouth to continue when someone pokes their head into the office with a concerned look on his face.
“Excuse me, Mr. Pierce.” He says. “But is someone strangling a cat in here?”
Pierce barely hides a smile at the question as the kid’s expression changes to an irritated glare.
“You try singing this !” He squeaks loudly.
The UGWC employee shrugs and looks at Pierce.
“Are you sure there’s no cat being strangled in here?” He asks.
“Yes.” Pierce replies.
Ol’ Bob replies with a smile of his own.
“Ol’ Bob’ bets that Sharp would like for someone to strangle him right now.”
The man looks at Ol’ Bob as if he’s not sure how to take the remark, shrugs again and disappears.
“How rude!” The messenger replies, then continues. “I know that you have all of the advantages. I don’t care. No matter what happens, I’m not going to wrestle for at least six to nine months, if ever. If I’m going to lose my career then I’m going to yours with meeee ! It’ll be an early Christmas gift to myseeeelllllllf!!!!’
He pauses for air and Pierce, Ol’ Bob and Vines all pause with him as if they’re expecting commentary during the break. When he scans the page and continues, all three breathe audible sighs of relief.
“Go ahead and make all of the bad jokes that you think make you fu-nyyyyy !” He bellows. “I know what to expect from you whenever you torture us with another one of your cliché ‘Piercing Truth’ episodes for our match!”
He pauses again and shakes his head.
“Neil Diamond would be horrified by this.” He says to himself.
“Neil Diamond wouldn have thrown himself in front of a bus by now.” Pierce says.
“I’m going to hurt you, Travis!” The messenger continues without acknowledging Pierce’s remark. “I’m go-ing to take three years of putting up with your bullshit out on you on Mon-day ! I may be a cripple, but I’m still more than capable of kicking your ass ! Bring your best to ‘Horizons’, because that’s what you’re going to get from me. I’m going to remove the stain of Travis Pierce from UGWC and expose you for being the selfish, two-faced prick that you arrrrre!”
He pauses to take a breath.
“I know you, which is why I haaaate youuuuu!!!” He belts out with far more force then someone his size should be capable of.
“Ol’ Bob’ isn’t going to save you ! Somers isn’t going to save you and you won’t have Security to hide behind! I hope that you bring everything that you’ve got, because you’re going to need it! You’re a fraud and you’ve abused the power that you were mistakenly handed! At ‘Horizons’ I’m going to de-throne youuuuu !”
He looks up at Travis.
“This seems a bit overly dramatic for a wrestling match.” He says.
Pierce smiles at him.
“You have no idea.” He replies. “It’ll be nice to have six ‘Zane Scott’ free months.”
“You two really don’t like each other.” The kid replies.
“No one likes Rain.” Ol’ Bob says. “He’s a miserable and violent asshole, which Ol' Bob would normally like. He makes an exception for Rain.”
The kid looks at Ol’ Bob in confusion, then looks out the window and then back at Bob.
“I don’t see any rain.” He says.
“Not ‘rain’, ‘RAIN’ !” Ol’ Bob growls. “Rain Blot!”
“Huh?” The kid asks.
“Don’t worry about it.” Pierce says to him. “That’s what Bob does.”
The kid shrugs in response and continues.
“If you say so.” He replies. “I’m almost done, so let’s do it!”
“Sweet Jesus!” Vines bellows.
Pierce, Ol’ Bob and the kid all look to the man that had been largely silent up until that moment. The messenger looks at Vines irritably.
“I think I’ve done well with...this.” He says disgustedly and slaps the paper with his hand.
“You have.” Pierce replies, bringing the kid’s attention back to him. “Please finish.”
“Sometime during our match on Monday, you’re going to wonder why you booked this and after I’m finished putting you down as you should be you’re going to realize one thing...”
He pauses, widens his stance and leans backwards while putting his arms up in the air dramatically in front of and behind him.
“The truuuuuth huuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrts!!!!!”
The kid folds the message up and puts it back into his pocket, at which point Pierce, Ol’ Bob and Vines all let out very loud exhales of relief. Ol’ Bob walks over to the far side of the room and pulls a bottle of Whiskey off of the shelf. He doesn’t bother to get a glass. Vines drops his head to his desk with a dull thud and Pierce leans back in his chair and rubs his hands into his eyes. The kid leans forward with his hand out and “clears” his throat.
Pierce leans forward and looks at him blankly. Ol’ Bob takes a long deep pull from the bottle before he stands up from his desk with the bottle in hand, lets out a thunderous belch and walks over to the kid.
“Stay there, Sharp.” He says. “Ol’ Bob’s got this.”
He slaps a bill into the kid’s hand and walks from the room, announcing his departure with another loud belch. The kid looks down at his hand and then looks at Pierce.
“Five dollars!!!”
Travis Pierce looks up from his desk with a smile.
“Send it in, please.” He replies.
“Yes sir.” She replies before turning and nodding at someone. “You may go in, sir.”
As she turns and walks away from the door a skinny little man in what looks like a bellhop’s uniform comes shuffling through the door. The baby faced man doesn’t fit well in his outfit as it looks to be at least a size too big. It’s so big in fact that its making the uniform look he just pulled it out of the hamper, gave it the “smell test” and threw it on before walking into the arena. Pierce looks at his two members in “The Consortium” to find it to be clear that while neither man has any idea what’s going on, that both of them are incredibly amused by the situation as they both have really stupid looking grins on their faces. It stands out the most on “Ol’ Bob” because as we all know, he rarely smiles about anything.
Pierce turns back to the messenger, who barely manages to walk up to his desk without tripping over his own pants. He grabs his waist band and gives his pants one good upward yank, somehow managing to not squash his own...well...“manhood” in the process. Pierce observes the act with an obvious wince while “Ol’ Bob” barely stifles a guffaw and Vines emits a slightly strangled sound. The kid tips his cap to Pierce and smiles. Pierce looks back at him, clearly perplexed.
“Is there something I can help you with ?” He asks.
The kid puts his small roundish hat bat on and fishes around in his pocket. He pulls out a small card and an envelope.
“Yes sir !” He proclaims with far more enthusiasm than anyone dressed like him has any right to display. “I have a telegram for you.”
The kid pauses, at which point Pierce opens his mouth to say something only to have the kid blurt something out at him.
“And an envelope, which I was asked to deliver.” He half mutters. “That’s so unusual...”
The second statement sort of trails off into nowhere. Pierce closes his mouth and shakes his head as both “Ol’ Bob” and Vines stifle the chuckles of their rapidly growing amusement at the whole spectacle. The kid hands the envelope over to Pierce, who takes it and looks at it. It has one word written on it.
"It says 'asshole'." Pierce says when he sees it. "Typical."
He rolls his eyes and grabs the letter opener from his desk when the kid interrupts him.
“You don’t have to do that, sir.” He explains. “It’s not sealed.”
Pierce raises an eyebrow and slowly places the letter opener back on his desk, then opens the envelope and pulls two pieces of ruled paper out of it and lets out an exasperated sigh.
“What’s the matter, Sharp ?” Ol’ Bob asks through another amused guffaw.
Pierce goes to answer when the delivery kid interrupts again.
“Sharp ?” He asks. “Oh no ! Have I delivered it to the wrong person ? This is for a Mr. Travis Pierce !”
Pierce’s mouth drops open in an almost cartoonish manner before it slowly closes again. “Ol’ Bob” picks up the heavy lifting and answers for him while Vines clamps his right hand over his mouth and stifles a laugh.
“Sharp...Pierce...” Ol’ Bob explains. “Get it ?”
The kid looks over at him with a genuinely dumbfounded expression.
“No.” He replies. “Is that supposed to be funny ?”
“Ol’ Bob” reaches under his desk for “Louis” only to be stopped by Pierce.
“Let it go, Bob.” He says.
“Ol’ Bob puts “Louis” down on his desk where the kid can see it and glowers at him menacingly. Pierce looks over at the kid and gestures for him to continue.
“Don’t worry about him.” He says. “He’s not going to hurt you.”
“Ol’ Bob wouldn’t be so sure of that if Ol’ Bob was you.” “Ol’ Bob growls.
The kid looks at him and swallows hard. Really hard. As in “trying to choke down a bowling ball” hard and then looks back at Pierce.
“If you say so, sir.” He answers. “Anyway, I have this telegram for you.”
“You already gave me the letter.” Pierce says. “Isn’t that it ?”
“No sir.” The kid says, shaking his head. “This is a singing telegram.”
Pierce closes his eyes and shakes his head again as both “Ol’ Bob” and Vines burst out laughing at the same time. This seems to relax the kid a little bit as he gives both of them a quick look and a nervous smile before he looks back at Pierce, who is pulling his hand away from his face.
“Zane...” Pierce says irritably.
“May I continue sir ?” The kid asks.
“Do.” Ol’ Bob answers. “Ol’ Bob hasn’t had a laugh like this since Shangri-la and Conceited beat the shit out of each other.”
The kid answers the statement with a dumbfounded look before he shrugs and looks back at Pierce. He clears his throat, pulls out a harmonica and blows a single note with it.
“December tenth, two-thousand and fifteen !” He bellows.
Well, as close to a “bellow” as he can manage. Pierce exhales and shakes his head while “Ol’ Bob” and Vines start to laugh again.
“Pierce!!!”
He makes the name of the Creative Director sound far more dramatic than it should and pauses dramatically for the comma. The kid takes pride in his work.
“First of all, fuck you !”
The kid stops as his face screws up in confusion and he looks down at the telegram.
“That can’t be right.” He stammers. “I’m so sorry ! I’m...it’s not...oh my...”
Pierce waves his hand dismissively.
“Don’t worry about it, kid.” He replies. “The person that wrote this has as much class as a dive titty bar. Just read it. I know it’s not you.”
The kid exhales in obvious relief.
“Thank you. Where was I ?” He looks down at the telegram and begins again.
“First of alllllllllll !” He bellows. (What, it’s an amusing visual ?)
“You can skip that part.” Pierce says. “We got it the first time.”
“No.” “Ol’ Bob” interrupts. “Ol’ Bob wants to hear it again !”
Pierce shoots him a withering look.
“He really doesn’t have to.” He replies.
“‘Ol’ Bob’ enjoyed that part so much.” He says, placing his right hand on “Louis”. “‘Ol’ Bob’ would like to hear it again.”
The messenger looks from “Ol’ Bob” to Pierce and shrugs apologetically.
“Sorry, sir.” He replies. “But he has a baseball bat.”
“Fine.” Pierce says, waving his hand dismissively as he rests his chin in his other hand.
“First of all, FUCK YOUUUUUUU !!!!!!”
He pauses and looks at “Ol’ Bob”, who gives him a mocking thumbs up in return. Vines laughs again, although it’s muffled by his hand. Pierce lets out another exasperated sigh. The kid looks back at him with a worried look.
“Again, I’m sorry sir.” He squeaks.
“Don’t be.” Pierce replies. “Just get this shit-show over with.”
The messenger takes a deep breath and blows a slightly off key note through his harmonica. All three men in the room wince at the sound of it. The messenger appears not to notice as he resumes the song.
“Now that I have that out of the way, let’s get to business. Monday is our big day. At ‘Horizons’ we’ll put all of the bullshit between us to an end.”
He pauses to take a breath, scan the next line and continue.
“Speaking of ‘bullshit’”. He pauses and looks up at Pierce again.
“He’s really foul mouthed.” He says.
Pierce nods. “Yes. Shakespeare he isn’t. Please continue.”
The messenger nods and looks at the paper to see where he left off. Spotting his place, he smiles, takes a breath and continues.
“I noticed that you decided to make good Ol’ Bob your wingman for our soiree.”
He turns and looks at the other two men.
“Which one is Bob ?” He asks.
Ol’ Bob picks “Louis” up and glowers menacingly at the messenger. The kid looks from him to the bat and then to Pierce.
“Is he gonna hit me with that thing ?” He asks.
Pierce just shrugs. Ol’ Bob answers the question for him.
“Ol’ Bob’ will use ‘Louis’ on you if you don’t get on with this.” He replies belligerently. “Ol’ Bob’ is enjoying this little…whatever it is. It’s fun to watch Sharp squirm.”
The kid looks at him and swallows hard then looks back at Pierce. He looks at the page and takes another breath.
“I know what you’re going to whine at me; ‘Zane, Bob doesn’t like anyone. How does making him our referee help me ?’” He pauses to take a breath.
“That’s easy !” He belts out the two word phrase as if he’s Pavarotti singing “Ave Maria” at the Met. All three men in the room visibly wince, especially Ol’ Bob who picks up “Louis” and acts like he’s going to hit himself in the heat before he thinks better of it and looks at Vines, who throws his hands up defensively. Ol’ Bob shrugs and puts “Louis” down as the kid resumes singing.
“He may not ‘like’ youuuuuuu, but he HATES meeeeee !!!!!” He bellows, doing the “air quotes” for the word “like”. He continues. “Believe me, the feeling is quite mu-tu-al. Even be-fore I caved his fat head in with the ‘Lord of Pain-Killer’ a few weeeeeeks ago, he and I had a looooooong history of hating each other!!!”
He looks down at the page in bewilderment and when what he’s just sung dawns on him he looks at Ol’ Bob, aghast.
“Did he actually hit you with...whatever the ‘Lord of Pain-Killer’ is ?” He cries. “That’s horrible !”
“It’s a steel chair.” Pierce interjects. “And yes, he hit Bob with it. Please, get on with this. We still have another page of it left and I feel a growing headache.”
“Yes.” Ol’ Bob says. “Get going. Skip the parts about chair shots to Ol’ Bob’s head unless you want to get better acquainted with ‘Louis’.”
Pierce looks at Ol’ Bob.
“Fair’s fair, Bob.” He says. “If I have to suffer through this, so do you.”
“Fuck fair.” Ol’ Bob says. “‘Ol Bob’ doesn’t have to sit through this. ‘Ol’ Bob’ is only sitting through it because of the visible pain that it’s causing you.”
Pierce rolls his eyes and looks back at the kid, then gestures for him to continue. He takes another breath, blows another note in his harmonica and resumes.
“‘Horizons’ is the perfect chance for him to get even with me !” He croons. “Don’t think that this hasn’t occurred to himmmm ! I expect him to referee as fairly as I expect you to take responsibility for your bullshiiiiit !”
He pauses again and crinkles up his nose in disgust before he continues.
“Santa might be real too!”
He looks at Pierce.
“This song doesn’t flow very well.” He says.
Pierce lets out a sigh as both “Ol’ Bob” and Vines stifle laughter.
“I know.” He replies. “There’s nothing we can do about that. You’re doing a good job with the...material...that you have.”
“Thank you !” The kid replies as he lights up with a gigantic smile.
“Sure.” Pierce replies.
The kid puffs out his chest a little bit and picks up where he left off.
“So my leg is shit and you have a broken wrist !” He bellows. “Fair’s fairrrrr!!!”
His face pales as he looks up at Pierce.
“He broke your wrist?” He asks in a pained voice.
Pierce holds up his casted arm. The kid puts his right hand to his mouth and squeals in terror.
“What a brute !” He exclaims. “I don’t like this man ! He seemed nicer when he gave me this!”
“He’s not nice.” Pierce replies. “And you probably weren’t talking to him. Was he glowering at you the entire time ?”
The kid looks at him in confusion and shrugs.
"No." He replies. "He was smiling and friendly."
Pierce shakes his head no as Ol' Bob answers with a derisive grunt.
"That wasn't Zane." Pierce answers. "He almost never smiles and he's never friendly."
“Ok.” He replies. “Anyway. Where was I ?”
Ol’ Bob chuckles.
“Motivating Sharp to consider suicide.”
The kid crinkles up his nose in disgust and looks at the second “page” of the letter.
“If you want to make things really interestingggg, !” He belts out. “Wear a soft cast, that was you don’t come into the match arrrrrmed!!!!”
His brow furrows.
“See what I did therrrrrrre?!!”
He looks up at Pierce.
“He’s not funny either.” He says. "And who puts a parenthetic statement in a place like that ?"
Pierce looks up at the ceiling before looking back at him.
“Tell me about it.” He replies. "And Zane has a high school education, and I'm not sure that he graduated."
The kid continues, much to Pierce’s distress and Ol’ Bob’s and Vines amusement.
“I assume that you’ll take every advantage you can get. I’ll have funnnn destroying that cast, even if it’s with my heeeeead and I’ll cripple that wrist for good along with it if you wear the hard oneeee!!!!”
He pauses to take a breath. He opens his mouth to continue when someone pokes their head into the office with a concerned look on his face.
“Excuse me, Mr. Pierce.” He says. “But is someone strangling a cat in here?”
Pierce barely hides a smile at the question as the kid’s expression changes to an irritated glare.
“You try singing this !” He squeaks loudly.
The UGWC employee shrugs and looks at Pierce.
“Are you sure there’s no cat being strangled in here?” He asks.
“Yes.” Pierce replies.
Ol’ Bob replies with a smile of his own.
“Ol’ Bob’ bets that Sharp would like for someone to strangle him right now.”
The man looks at Ol’ Bob as if he’s not sure how to take the remark, shrugs again and disappears.
“How rude!” The messenger replies, then continues. “I know that you have all of the advantages. I don’t care. No matter what happens, I’m not going to wrestle for at least six to nine months, if ever. If I’m going to lose my career then I’m going to yours with meeee ! It’ll be an early Christmas gift to myseeeelllllllf!!!!’
He pauses for air and Pierce, Ol’ Bob and Vines all pause with him as if they’re expecting commentary during the break. When he scans the page and continues, all three breathe audible sighs of relief.
“Go ahead and make all of the bad jokes that you think make you fu-nyyyyy !” He bellows. “I know what to expect from you whenever you torture us with another one of your cliché ‘Piercing Truth’ episodes for our match!”
He pauses again and shakes his head.
“Neil Diamond would be horrified by this.” He says to himself.
“Neil Diamond wouldn have thrown himself in front of a bus by now.” Pierce says.
“I’m going to hurt you, Travis!” The messenger continues without acknowledging Pierce’s remark. “I’m go-ing to take three years of putting up with your bullshit out on you on Mon-day ! I may be a cripple, but I’m still more than capable of kicking your ass ! Bring your best to ‘Horizons’, because that’s what you’re going to get from me. I’m going to remove the stain of Travis Pierce from UGWC and expose you for being the selfish, two-faced prick that you arrrrre!”
He pauses to take a breath.
“I know you, which is why I haaaate youuuuu!!!” He belts out with far more force then someone his size should be capable of.
“Ol’ Bob’ isn’t going to save you ! Somers isn’t going to save you and you won’t have Security to hide behind! I hope that you bring everything that you’ve got, because you’re going to need it! You’re a fraud and you’ve abused the power that you were mistakenly handed! At ‘Horizons’ I’m going to de-throne youuuuu !”
He looks up at Travis.
“This seems a bit overly dramatic for a wrestling match.” He says.
Pierce smiles at him.
“You have no idea.” He replies. “It’ll be nice to have six ‘Zane Scott’ free months.”
“You two really don’t like each other.” The kid replies.
“No one likes Rain.” Ol’ Bob says. “He’s a miserable and violent asshole, which Ol' Bob would normally like. He makes an exception for Rain.”
The kid looks at Ol’ Bob in confusion, then looks out the window and then back at Bob.
“I don’t see any rain.” He says.
“Not ‘rain’, ‘RAIN’ !” Ol’ Bob growls. “Rain Blot!”
“Huh?” The kid asks.
“Don’t worry about it.” Pierce says to him. “That’s what Bob does.”
The kid shrugs in response and continues.
“If you say so.” He replies. “I’m almost done, so let’s do it!”
“Sweet Jesus!” Vines bellows.
Pierce, Ol’ Bob and the kid all look to the man that had been largely silent up until that moment. The messenger looks at Vines irritably.
“I think I’ve done well with...this.” He says disgustedly and slaps the paper with his hand.
“You have.” Pierce replies, bringing the kid’s attention back to him. “Please finish.”
“Sometime during our match on Monday, you’re going to wonder why you booked this and after I’m finished putting you down as you should be you’re going to realize one thing...”
He pauses, widens his stance and leans backwards while putting his arms up in the air dramatically in front of and behind him.
“The truuuuuth huuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrts!!!!!”
The kid folds the message up and puts it back into his pocket, at which point Pierce, Ol’ Bob and Vines all let out very loud exhales of relief. Ol’ Bob walks over to the far side of the room and pulls a bottle of Whiskey off of the shelf. He doesn’t bother to get a glass. Vines drops his head to his desk with a dull thud and Pierce leans back in his chair and rubs his hands into his eyes. The kid leans forward with his hand out and “clears” his throat.
Pierce leans forward and looks at him blankly. Ol’ Bob takes a long deep pull from the bottle before he stands up from his desk with the bottle in hand, lets out a thunderous belch and walks over to the kid.
“Stay there, Sharp.” He says. “Ol’ Bob’s got this.”
He slaps a bill into the kid’s hand and walks from the room, announcing his departure with another loud belch. The kid looks down at his hand and then looks at Pierce.
“Five dollars!!!”
2013, '18, '23 
2013 
