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Tobias Clarke has stormed into the office of Butch Parker, the latter rising to his feet as the intern has by now entered behind.
(Intern): I’m sorry Mr Par…
Tobias flips his head round, eyes laser focused and causing her to wilt back.
(Tobias): Shush you. I told you he was free.
He throws himself into the chair in front of the desk, stretching out languidly.
(Tobias): After the champ, I’m the most important one on the roster.
He smiles confidently at Butch, being met with a stony glare in response.
Craning his head around, he sees the intern still standing. Making a shoo’ing motion, he dismisses her.
(Tobias): You can go now.
Butch’s expression is impassive, relaxing into an assuring smile as he makes eye contact with the intern.
(Butch): Thank you, Tracy, you can go ahead and take the rest of the day off.
The intern named Tracy looks taken aback and her face morphs from a look of upset from her treatment from Tobias to one of joy.
(Tracy): T-thank you, Mr Parker!
As Tracy leaves the room, the door shuts behind her. When it does, Butch’s demeanor instantly changes.
(Butch): Speak to my staff in front of me like that again and you’ll be fined, Mr Clarke.
He reaches forward and swats Tobias’ feet from atop his desk causing him to stumble awkwardly in his chair.
(Butch): And get your feet off my f***ing desk as well. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of being graced with your presence today, Mr Clarke?
Inspecting his shoes carefully, Tobias gently brushes one hand against the inside of his left foot, as if swatting away a rogue piece of lint.
(Tobias): Hand crafted by Antonio Meccariell…
He’s fighting back an urge to snap, his hand moving from his shoes, satisfied that no scuffs have been caused by Butch’s clumsy and uncouth swipe at him.
(Tobias): Well… Butch…
He smiles, putting the affront to his footwear behind him.
(Tobias): I’m here to discuss what should be the most important thing on your agenda. I want to know what the f*ck you’re going to do about Monkey?
Butch maintains a pokerfaced expression. His emerald green eyes staring through Tobias, not giving anything away.
(Butch): Before I indulge your questions, if you would be so kind, I’d like for you to indulge me for a moment.
Butch stands up to his full six-foot-five height and walks around his desk, and looks down on Tobias.
(Butch): I’d like you to elaborate, employer to employee on what you said about me before. I believe you have concerns over my ability to control my bowels and my senses?
It takes Tobias a few moments to process the question, that night he’d almost drowned had taken its mental toll on him after all.
Nevertheless, he recalls soon enough, eyeing up Butch’s fitted trousers with an appraising look before staring right back at his boss.
(Tobias): Well if it’s the incontinence, you don’t seem to be wearing a diaper, so… congratulations?
He steeples his fingers together, elbows resting on his thighs.
(Tobias): Chalk it down to the heat of the moment, y’know… I almost drowned...
That word is practically spat out, Tobias’s neck muscles going taut and the look he has in his eyes going almost venomous.
(Tobias): … afterall.
He clears his throat, as if trying to shift away the memories and clear space for what he next has to endure considering.
(Tobias): And as for your senses… this employees fellow employees, with few exceptions suck dick. There are people who wouldn’t even make it as a freak in the circus, and yet you’re just handing out contracts like candy. You said at Havoc that HWA isn’t one to rest on its laurels…
His arms go wide.
(Tobias): Well it’s f*cking hard to do that when your foundations are built on jobbers and feral inbreds that don’t know what they’re doing in that ring. And then they go and start assaulting me as well? So yeah buddy, I question your senses.
(Butch): Well, Mr Clarke, I guess it’s a good job I don’t have to turn a monthly performance report into you, isn’t it?
I want you to listen closely, Mr Clarke and I want to really pay close attention. I’ve been involved in professional wrestling since I was sixteen years old. That’s 30 years. By the time you were hauled out of your mother’s ####, I was already a three-time World Champion. I’ve worked my way up from the very bottom of the ladder to get to where I am now.
I served under probably the most evil, sadistic businessman this industry has ever known. A man who once left the corpse of a dead lion on the beach behind my house. A man who tried to poison my daughter with a cobra, all to get his point across. A man who manipulated me, my wife, superstars like Hans, like Maniac and many others. For all intents and purposes, a sociopathic lunatic with a God complex.
So you’ll forgive me that when it comes to the faces that fill the squares on our roster, your opinion on their abilities to draw and to wrestle? I couldn’t give less of a f**k if I tried.
The eyeroll in response to this is as dramatic as ever from Tobias.
(Tobias): God I bet you’ve wanted to get that out for a while, eh buddy?
His nostrils flare as he intakes air, his lips a thin line.
(Tobias): Cute speech. Dash of victimhood. I like it. But it doesn’t answer my question of what you’re going to do about the man who tried to f*cking kill me the other night…
Butch just smirked, placing his hands on either side of Tobias’ chair.
(Butch): I’ve seen guys like you my entire career, you know that? Big mouth, thinks he’s smarter than everyone else in the room, likes to stoke the flames. You’re talented, Tobias. It’s why I signed you in the first place. But just remember who works for who here. Your opinion on other members of the roster? I don’t give a rat’s arse about. Your opinion on my recruitment policy for this company? I don’t give a rat’s arse about. Your opinion on me or my my ability to run this company? Well, I’ll let you figure that one out.
As for what happened at the end of Havoc? You know what? I might do something. I might grant Wolfy’s request for this Zoo Match he’s desperate for. I could suspend him, fine him but frankly I don’t think that would work.
You’re a smart guy, Tobias, or at least you think you are. So why don’t you see if you can’t come up with a creative way of your own to get back at Wolfy for what happened at the end of Havoc? Because quite frankly, that was child’s play compared to what has happened in this company before. The fact of the matter is, you’re in HWA, Mr Clarke, and in this company, you need to, pardon the irony, learn to swim pretty fast or you’re going to drown very quickly.
Mind racing at the implied options available to him, Tobias still can’t help but blurt out a jab.
(Tobias): Desperate for a wash more like…
He settles back into his seat, one hand waving dismissively as he does so, wafting very closely to Butch’s nose as it does so.
(Tobias): And you’re right, you could fine Monkey but it wouldn’t matter. Besides, you’ve fined near enough everyone on this roster and it hasn’t made a single bit of difference, so why would it now?
His eyes focus on the man leering above him once more.
(Tobias): You said two things there that were true. That I’m talented and that I’m smart.
He actually almost looks appreciative, as one hand goes to his chest. Is he genuine, is he sincere? It does seem like it.
(Tobias): It’s nice of you to admit that. Of course the rest of what you said is again, nothing you’ve not said already. Be better Butch.
He gets to his feet by sliding backwards and up until he’s perched on top of the back of the chair, slowly maneuvering his hand crafted Italian shoes over Butch’s outstretched arms and once more, incredibly close to his face as he swivels around before placing his feet onto the floor of the office, standing upright once again.
(Tobias): It’s nice to know you care so much about your employees. I should have realized that when it took an age to get someone to take care of the basics for me. But even then, that’s still a high bar for Monkey, Flipper, Jamaal… y’know…
Butch’s eyebrow raises up.
Clicking his fingers at him, Tobias searches for the connection.
(Tobias): Y’know, that redneck… ah, Draconis’s spawn.
(Butch): His name is Jesse.
The tone is clearly one of ever dwindling tolerance, but Tobias breezes past it.
(Tobias): Pfft, whatever.
(Butch): Is there anything else you wish to get off your chest whilst you have my undivided attention? If not, I’m a very busy man and I have things to do.
Tobias considers this, ignorant entirely as to what Butch is actually meaning with his words.
(Tobias): Things to do?
He makes a sweeping gesture, indicating the whole room around them.
(Tobias): I’d hope one of the things is to redo the decor in here. So incredibly drab and dated.
A knowing look follows, as he takes a step back, reaching for the door.
(Tobias): Much like the man before me. But you wouldn’t give a rat’s arse about that now, would you?
He smiles sweetly as the door is fully opened now, leaning his head back towards Butch.
(Tobias): Perhaps you’ll reconsider when I’ve cut through all the chaff that you hire on a whim?
And with that, Tobias steps out of view, not bothering to close the door behind him.
Butch just rolls his eyes.
(Butch): C*nt…
Knuckles going white with the grip he’s exerting on the chair just recently occupied by Tobias, Butch exhales loudly, calming himself, before releasing and taking a step back himself.
(Butch): What an utter c*nt…
He moves round the chair, walking up to and shutting the door, as the scene fades to black.
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