A knock at the door stirs Butch from his reverie. He moves to open his mouth to speak and summon the person outside in, only for the door to be already swinging open as in steps Hans von Richtoven.
Wearing a cream coloured pair of trousers with a white top, Hans’ attire is at complete odds with the black mood he’s in.
(Hans): We need to talk mein freund.
He’s grabbing a seat and throwing himself into it, one hand running through his hair and the other balling itself into a fist even as it rests on his thigh.
(Hans): Scheiße, you’ve seen what she put out, jah? Verdammte hölle!
(Butch): I did.
(Hans): You know there’s no truth, jah? She’s…
Almost exhausted, his head tilts forward onto his chest.
(Hans): She’s just spinning her web again.
(Butch): I know mate.
Butch places a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
(Butch): I need a beer, want one?
A low gust of air escapes Hans’ lips.
(Hans): Jah… danke…
He slumps forward, head being cradled in his hands.
(Hans): Scheiße, it won’t matter that she’s full of crap, folk will run with this…
Butch leans down beside his desk and comes back up with two bottles of Miller. The bottles glisten with condensation, indicating they’ve been refrigerated. After twisting both the lids off, he hands one of them to Hans and takes a drink of his own.
(Butch): They won’t, mate, she’s got psychological issues, we all know that. I think the important thing for you to do firstly, which I know is easier said than done, is not panic. Compartmentalise and take it one step at a time. I have a press conference I need to chair at HQ, I’ve got a few things to announce and address. If you want to prepare a statement, I can vouch for you whilst not downplaying an accusation from a woman who claims to have been sexually assaulted. It’s a fine line to walk but I’ve got the balance for it.
Taking a deep swig of his beer, Hans gestures across at Butch.
(Hans): Mein freund, you’ve seen the news, Mila Kunis and Kutcher getting rinsed for their support of their friend, jah? People will be quick to assume it’s like that…
The other hand again goes through the hair.
(Hans): But jah, staying silent would just let it fester even more. What could I say that’s more tactful than ‘she’s needing help and she’s lying?’ I've already said that repeatedly.
Butch shakes his head dismissively, waving his hand at Hans’ prior suggestion.
(Butch): Nein. It won’t be any scripted, Scientology shite. This isn’t a character statement or me trying to diminish Erica’s claims, however bullshit we both know they are. But what we can do is speak to Legal about a counterclaim in the background. You can defend your name in public and vehemently deny the accusation. As Co-CEO, in public I have to be seen to taking her claim seriously so I can’t dismiss Erica’s claim but I can acknowledge that you categorically deny the accusation and are looking at slander and defamation of character as courses of action.
Taking another long swig from the beer, Hans is reflective, even as he takes a glance at the label on the bottle, realizing what brand it is for the first time.
A low sigh again escapes, either an indictment of Butch’s choice in beer, or in acknowledgement of the words he’s just said.
Likely both.
(Hans): Jah… that, that makes sense.
He gestures up at the ceiling.
(Hans): All these cameras around the training floors, they’ll come in handy. Show that she’s talking nonsense. Let’s see her story progress from, ‘it was in the ring’, ‘no, it was in the corridor’, ‘no, it was in his office’...
Draining the bottle, he looks up at Butch.
(Hans): What a woman, what a spiteful and devilish woman mein freund.
Butch nods, his expression knowing.
(Butch): I know, mate…I know. But the fact is we know she’s full of it. We’ll get you and Vanessa through this, I promise. Anything you need, Wisdom and I here for you, whatever you need. You need to step away from public life, I’ll stand by it. You want to continue as normal, I’ll stand by that too. I can’t suspend Erica though, I hope you and Vanessa understand that. To the general public, a minority woman accusing a white man of sexual assault and experiencing mental health issues being suspended by her white boss and best friend… they’ll have us by the balls…
(Hans): And there it is…
An even louder sigh erupts, shoulders slumping.
(Hans): That’s it, she’s playing every card she can…
Fiddling with the bottle, Hans starts to tear at the edge of the label almost absent mindedly.
(Hans): Nein, Ich kann nicht wegbleiben… I won’t.. She’d just try it on someone else knowing it worked before.
Continuing to tear at the label, Hans’ head dips momentarily, before he looks back up at Butch.
(Hans): You have a press conference scheduled for later, jah?
(Butch): I’m heading to HQ in a few hours.
Nodding, Hans takes this information in for a few moments, finishing tearing the label off the beer bottle.
(Hans): I’ll send you something to say, jah? Mein brain ist kaput for anything else downstairs…
Pointing down with one hand to emphasis the training floor beneath them, he crumples up the label in the other hand.
(Hans): Best get searching that footage for when I last trained with Erica in the ring… all… zwei times that happened….
Dropping the crumpled label into the bottle, he rises to his feet.
(Hans): Sorry mein freund, I needed to vent.
Butch waves his hand.
(Butch): Not at all, mate, vent away. By the way, I booked you a match at Havoc, to take your mind off things…against Draconis’ son, Jesse. He and his cousin have impressed a lot lately in the Academy so I’m giving both an opportunity to go to the main roster.
(Hans): Jah?
Interest piqued, his mind is distracted with something he’s far better equipped to deal with.
(Hans): Jesse? Jah…
Again, nodding his head, he’s thinking back to what he’s seen of Jesse’s work at the Academy the past few months. He’s had some one to one sessions, some group sessions and heard from the other trainers.
(Hans): He seems ready. And if he’s like his vater… jah, danke Butch, this will be gut for us both I’m sure. Does he know yet?
(Butch): Not yet pal, wanting to do the honours?
(Hans): If you don’t mind. I can ask after Draconis too, see how he’s getting on.
(Butch): Be my guest, mate.
(Hans): Danke mein freund.
He gestures at the empty bottle held in one hand.
(Hans): I’ll get you some nice beers for your fridge, jah? My thanks for listening.
Rolling his eyes, Butch draws Hans in for a hug, slapping him on the back.
(Butch): Aye, you do that pal.
(Hans): I’m looking out for you.
They break apart, Butch taking the empty bottle and settling it on his desk.
(Butch): And I’m doing the same for you too pal. Get downstairs, I’ll tell Matthew you’ll be occupied for the morning, send up what you want me to say on your behalf, I know they’ll ask something, awrite?
(Hans): Jah, will do.
They clasp hands, giving each other a nod as Hans heads for the door as the scene fades out to black.
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