Post by Adrien Cochrane on Jun 12, 2012 23:02:49 GMT -5
[Adrien Cochrane’s mind is filled with more thoughts than it usually can handle as he follows an assistant to an office. The Trans-Atlantic Cup Tournament no contest, winning the battle royal to earn a place on the PCW Slamathon Pay-Per-View, and his new ally over in PCW.]
Assistant: “Mr. Cochrane, Mr. Ryder is ready for you.”
[Adrien can’t help but notice how large Terrell Ryder’s office is. It’s nearly the size of Adrien’s living room, which some people say is above average in size. The ceramic walls with one of the walls being a giant window, the giant desk that makes the one in the Oval Office look like an elementary school student desk…there’s even a pool table in the center of the office and a hot tub in the corner.]
Ryder: “Adrien Cochrane! Welcome to Las Vegas! Please, please, please, take a seat!”
[Terrell Ryder is everything he was on the television: dark skin, shiny smile, and a business suit that looks like it is worth about the price of Adrien’s car. For someone who has been employed by him for nearly a month, this is surprisingly the first time Adrien has been face to face with his boss. He passed by James Baker one time backstage, but this is the first time Adrien has been in a room with the PCW owner.]
Adrien: “Thank you, sir.”
[Adrien obliges and takes a seat on the other side of the desk. Terrell Ryder looks at his assistant.]
Ryder: “Mary, can you get me a scotch and Adrien a Barq’s root beer, no ice?”
How the hell did he know what I drink?
[Ryder’s assistant nods and departs from the room. Ryder turns back to Adrien, who was admiring the dollar sign made of solid gold on the side of his desk.]
Ryder: “Adrien, I have to say, you have been impressing me, son.”
[Adrien withholds a big grin.]
Ryder: “You did a great job in that opening round of the Trans-Atlantic Cup Tournament.”
Adrien: “It ended in a no contest, sir.”
[Terrell Ryder chuckles. And it wasn’t the scoff type of chuckle. There was confidence behind it.]
Ryder: “You still advanced, son. You nailed your opponent with your finisher. He failed to put you away. It ended in a no contest when some jerk bag interfered and bloodied your opponent. And how did you respond? Two Lightning Strikes to that asshole. The last thing on the television screen when the show ended was you standing tall. Who was the big winner in that match?”
Well, if you put it like that…
Ryder: “You also displayed honor before the match. Adrien, you are being a very good representative to PCW. And that’s why I’ve called you here today.”
Here comes the goods…
Ryder: “What you have been doing has been good publicity for PCW. Good publicity is good for the company. And as long as I’m running things, I’m going to reward the people who doing things that are good for the company.”
There’s a good reason to like this boss.
Ryder: “The form you filled out to be the PCW rep in this tournament promised a World Title shot if you really impressed in this tournament. I’m here to reiterate that. No matter what happens in the Scars of Wrestling Cup match on Slamathon…if you win this tournament, or hell, make it to the finals, I’m giving you a shot at the PCW World title.”
[Adrien couldn’t hold that one back. He was smiling at the mention of a World Title shot.]
Adrien: “Thank you, sir. I really appreciate the confidence and support.”
[Terrell Ryder’s assistant returns with the two men’s drinks. Ryder lifts his scotch towards Adrien. Adrien reciprocates with his root beer.]
Ryder: “Cheers.”
[Adrien politely replies.]
Adrien: “Cheers.”
[Ryder takes a big gulp of his scotch while Adrien gently sips his drink.]
Ryder: “Adrien, I see great things for you. I’m excited to see what your future in PCW holds.”
[Both men smile. With the top of the company behind him, Adrien felt more motivated and more focused than ever.]
----------------------
“The mark of a great warrior is honor.”
[Adrien Cochrane shakes his fist. He is sitting down near the top of a white marble staircase. The monument behind him is one that everyone can immediately recognize. The Lincoln Memorial.]
Adrien: “Ellis Smith, you do not have a single ounce of honor in your entire body. No, I don’t even want to hear any sort of ‘nice guys finish last’ bull or anything else out of you. For the love of God, do not give me some long drawn out speech about how you felt you didn’t get enough spotlight and that your parents didn’t hug you enough so that’s why you crave attention. Just stop. For once in your damn life, shut up and listen for a change.”
[The Dropkick King stands up. His dirty blonde hair barely waves in the Washington wind, unlike his loose orange plaid button-up shirt. Adrien takes a few steps down the stairs.]
Adrien: “You interrupted what was turning into a five star match between Justin Freebourne and I. You just had to be such an insecure little girl and just HAD to put your oversized nose where it didn’t belong. Justin has already spoken about how angry he is with you and how he believes we should just get rid of you and prepare for the second shot at Freebourne vs. Cochrane. Honestly, if it wasn’t for the fact that I know Justin’s number one priority is still advancing in this tournament, I would consider it.”
[Adrien adjusts his sunglasses so that his piercing blue eyes are visible, staring down the camera.]
Adrien: “Let’s get one thing straight. I’m normally one of the nicest guys on the planet until you cross the line, which you did. Hell, after all of this is over, I might grab a cup of coffee with Freebourne and give him advice for him to take on the rest of his career. I’m the guy who holds the door open for people in the backstage area, whether they are wrestler, event staff, or fan. I’m the type of guy who would sacrifice my own safety and health for a tag team partner. That is because I have honor.”
[Cochrane raises his sunglasses back.]
Adrien: “Justin Freebourne, from what I’ve gathered so far, has honor. A handful of other competitors in this tournament…hell, in this sport…have honor. The man behind me, our sixteenth President of the United States, has honor. You want to be a politician, take some notes on this guy. He was actually hesitant to sign the Emancipation Proclamation because he was unsure if he had the authority to do so. You, on the other hand, would probably declare yourself dictator of the entire world if you thought you could get away with it. That’s the thing about people with power: if they don’t have honor, they abuse it for their own selfish gains.”
[Adrien gives a sarcastic smile.]
Adrien: “I may have started rambling, but here’s the whole point of his conversation. I will win this match. I am a true warrior with heart, honor, skill, and motivation. You are not, Ellis. And I’m not letting you stop me from reaching my ultimate goal, Ellis, of winning this tournament. Justin, as much of my respect you have earned, I’m not letting you win either. This is my chance to shine, and I’m grabbing opportunity by the Texas Longhorn.”
[Adrien smiles one more time before the feed turns to static snow and cuts to black.]
Assistant: “Mr. Cochrane, Mr. Ryder is ready for you.”
[Adrien can’t help but notice how large Terrell Ryder’s office is. It’s nearly the size of Adrien’s living room, which some people say is above average in size. The ceramic walls with one of the walls being a giant window, the giant desk that makes the one in the Oval Office look like an elementary school student desk…there’s even a pool table in the center of the office and a hot tub in the corner.]
Ryder: “Adrien Cochrane! Welcome to Las Vegas! Please, please, please, take a seat!”
[Terrell Ryder is everything he was on the television: dark skin, shiny smile, and a business suit that looks like it is worth about the price of Adrien’s car. For someone who has been employed by him for nearly a month, this is surprisingly the first time Adrien has been face to face with his boss. He passed by James Baker one time backstage, but this is the first time Adrien has been in a room with the PCW owner.]
Adrien: “Thank you, sir.”
[Adrien obliges and takes a seat on the other side of the desk. Terrell Ryder looks at his assistant.]
Ryder: “Mary, can you get me a scotch and Adrien a Barq’s root beer, no ice?”
How the hell did he know what I drink?
[Ryder’s assistant nods and departs from the room. Ryder turns back to Adrien, who was admiring the dollar sign made of solid gold on the side of his desk.]
Ryder: “Adrien, I have to say, you have been impressing me, son.”
[Adrien withholds a big grin.]
Ryder: “You did a great job in that opening round of the Trans-Atlantic Cup Tournament.”
Adrien: “It ended in a no contest, sir.”
[Terrell Ryder chuckles. And it wasn’t the scoff type of chuckle. There was confidence behind it.]
Ryder: “You still advanced, son. You nailed your opponent with your finisher. He failed to put you away. It ended in a no contest when some jerk bag interfered and bloodied your opponent. And how did you respond? Two Lightning Strikes to that asshole. The last thing on the television screen when the show ended was you standing tall. Who was the big winner in that match?”
Well, if you put it like that…
Ryder: “You also displayed honor before the match. Adrien, you are being a very good representative to PCW. And that’s why I’ve called you here today.”
Here comes the goods…
Ryder: “What you have been doing has been good publicity for PCW. Good publicity is good for the company. And as long as I’m running things, I’m going to reward the people who doing things that are good for the company.”
There’s a good reason to like this boss.
Ryder: “The form you filled out to be the PCW rep in this tournament promised a World Title shot if you really impressed in this tournament. I’m here to reiterate that. No matter what happens in the Scars of Wrestling Cup match on Slamathon…if you win this tournament, or hell, make it to the finals, I’m giving you a shot at the PCW World title.”
[Adrien couldn’t hold that one back. He was smiling at the mention of a World Title shot.]
Adrien: “Thank you, sir. I really appreciate the confidence and support.”
[Terrell Ryder’s assistant returns with the two men’s drinks. Ryder lifts his scotch towards Adrien. Adrien reciprocates with his root beer.]
Ryder: “Cheers.”
[Adrien politely replies.]
Adrien: “Cheers.”
[Ryder takes a big gulp of his scotch while Adrien gently sips his drink.]
Ryder: “Adrien, I see great things for you. I’m excited to see what your future in PCW holds.”
[Both men smile. With the top of the company behind him, Adrien felt more motivated and more focused than ever.]
----------------------
“The mark of a great warrior is honor.”
[Adrien Cochrane shakes his fist. He is sitting down near the top of a white marble staircase. The monument behind him is one that everyone can immediately recognize. The Lincoln Memorial.]
Adrien: “Ellis Smith, you do not have a single ounce of honor in your entire body. No, I don’t even want to hear any sort of ‘nice guys finish last’ bull or anything else out of you. For the love of God, do not give me some long drawn out speech about how you felt you didn’t get enough spotlight and that your parents didn’t hug you enough so that’s why you crave attention. Just stop. For once in your damn life, shut up and listen for a change.”
[The Dropkick King stands up. His dirty blonde hair barely waves in the Washington wind, unlike his loose orange plaid button-up shirt. Adrien takes a few steps down the stairs.]
Adrien: “You interrupted what was turning into a five star match between Justin Freebourne and I. You just had to be such an insecure little girl and just HAD to put your oversized nose where it didn’t belong. Justin has already spoken about how angry he is with you and how he believes we should just get rid of you and prepare for the second shot at Freebourne vs. Cochrane. Honestly, if it wasn’t for the fact that I know Justin’s number one priority is still advancing in this tournament, I would consider it.”
[Adrien adjusts his sunglasses so that his piercing blue eyes are visible, staring down the camera.]
Adrien: “Let’s get one thing straight. I’m normally one of the nicest guys on the planet until you cross the line, which you did. Hell, after all of this is over, I might grab a cup of coffee with Freebourne and give him advice for him to take on the rest of his career. I’m the guy who holds the door open for people in the backstage area, whether they are wrestler, event staff, or fan. I’m the type of guy who would sacrifice my own safety and health for a tag team partner. That is because I have honor.”
[Cochrane raises his sunglasses back.]
Adrien: “Justin Freebourne, from what I’ve gathered so far, has honor. A handful of other competitors in this tournament…hell, in this sport…have honor. The man behind me, our sixteenth President of the United States, has honor. You want to be a politician, take some notes on this guy. He was actually hesitant to sign the Emancipation Proclamation because he was unsure if he had the authority to do so. You, on the other hand, would probably declare yourself dictator of the entire world if you thought you could get away with it. That’s the thing about people with power: if they don’t have honor, they abuse it for their own selfish gains.”
[Adrien gives a sarcastic smile.]
Adrien: “I may have started rambling, but here’s the whole point of his conversation. I will win this match. I am a true warrior with heart, honor, skill, and motivation. You are not, Ellis. And I’m not letting you stop me from reaching my ultimate goal, Ellis, of winning this tournament. Justin, as much of my respect you have earned, I’m not letting you win either. This is my chance to shine, and I’m grabbing opportunity by the Texas Longhorn.”
[Adrien smiles one more time before the feed turns to static snow and cuts to black.]