HWA Message Board: CBS Backlash (Part 2)

Los Angeles, CA – CBS Studios – The Night of Road to Ruin

Holiday cards and unopened gifts sat across the room on the large credenza along the wall. It had been a productive year for the company. They’d launched a string of hit new TV shows, successfully covered the presidential election unlike ABC, and laid out plans for 2025. Minus a few small controversies…he remained approachable, and positive in all media appearances and around the company in general. However, behind closed doors, CBS CEO George Cheeks had an F5 tornado whirling inside him for the past months. He could nearly feel it ripping and tearing, from the inside out.

Four years as CEO, he’d worked his ass off to build this brand when he took over. He developed new programming; he was even bold enough to risk everything in bringing in the blacklisted and derelict Hardcore Wrestling Alliance into the CBS family. His determination. His vision. His trust. His risk and his reward.

“We won’t let you down!”

He could hear Butch and Wisdom say when he made them the offer and shook their hands. They meant it. They were good people. He couldn’t pin this on them. They’d upheld their end, and it was he who pushed them further than they first wished to go in their return. No, it wouldn’t be fair to point the finger. He knew the risk. There was so much taking place now. He wanted to reach out but couldn't. He still didn’t have all the facts. It could be nothing, it could be everything, he didn’t know. Or maybe he did deep down, and the lack of hard evidence was the lie he told himself to maintain sanity.

The bit of public outcry they’d had was one thing, the Skydance Media’s pending merger was something else, but the potential loss of his job next year as a result was another. It wasn’t those things that were wrecking him. He had money…hell, they’ve just given him a $2.75 million bonus, another $3 million in stocks, on top of his multimillion-dollar salary and collection of other benefits. He could retire today if he wanted to and live like a King the rest of his life, but what swarmed in his stomach was something else.

He was a man of his word, to a fault. He promised Butch and Wisdom to do everything in his power to see that they not only succeeded but flourished. Technically he’d be free of that promise if he did lose his position in the company, but that was just a cheap cop-out. He’d called in every favor he could imagine and one step forward led to two steps back, but finally he’d gotten traction. His source wouldn’t commit to anything, but he was close. He was closing in on the truth and soon he’d know if he’d have to make that call, or breath a sigh of relief.

He walked back over to the sofa across from his desk. The HWA Press Conference was playing after Road to Ruin. God he loved this brand, being a cash cow aside, it was the childhood and lifelong fan in him of this sport that had brought all of this about. He grabbed his glass of Scotch and sat down taking a breather, a momentary great escape from reality and he spoke out loudly to himself as he watched.

(George Cheeks): Ugh, that darn Helwani, what was he trying to pull there? There you go Wisdom…. perfect response….shut that “stunt” and “staged” nonsense down. He knew better, or at least he should.

He takes a sip of his drink and nods as Stu-E Price is announced, then raises his glass to the television.

(George Cheeks): Nice, start off with the champ. Well done Price, well done.

He watches the remainder of the press conference, his drink long finished as the program ends. Then the weight pressing upon him returns. What will happen to HWA if he loses his job? Even worse, what will happen if…. No, he couldn’t go down that train of thought. Tonight was one to celebrate, Road to Ruin was a rousing success, he didn’t even need to see the data sheet with the numbers. He knew they were tired, so he’d call Butch and Wisdom in the morning to congratulate them. His phone rings, and as he looks at the number his heart leaps so far up in his throat he feels he could spit it out. He’d been waiting for this call for weeks, and didn’t hesitate answering.

(????????): George it’s me, how ya doing pal?

(George Cheeks): You tell me, Richard!

(Richard): Wish I could, but I got the next best thing for ya. Between all of your and a few of my own favors, I made some leeway.

(George Cheeks): Yeah?

(Richard): They’ve agreed to meet.

(George Cheeks): That’s great, when, where? Let me get my assistant in here now to arrange…

(Richard): Jesus George, hold on…let me finish.

(George Cheeks): I’m sorry, go on.

(Richard): So, they’ve agreed to meet, but this is going to be a strict NDA, and I mean strict. “Iron clad” doesn’t even do this thing justice.

(George Cheeks): An NDA, come on, are you fuking serious? For a few little questions?

(Richard): George this is only happening because of your connections, and barely at that, this is more of a courtesy to whatever higher up you know, that someone else knows, that they know sort of thing. They agreed to talk, but those are the terms………..but George, if I were you…

(George Cheeks): If you were me what?

(Richard): It’s not worth the risk George. One word, one slip up from whatever conversation you might have, hell even a rumor, the whiff of a fleas fart and they’ll take you, CBS, and Paramount down in the blink of an eye.

George signs deeply and heavily. This was progress finally, but very serious news.

(Richard): Listen, the offers on the table…take your time and think it over, you don’t have to decide anything right away but like I said, as a lawyer, and as your friend… just stay out of this. If the shoe were on the other foot, I know you wouldn’t be divulging your company business. This is like inside trading, it’s not how things are done. I’m surprised they even agreed to sit down.

(George Cheeks): I know, and you’re right, but…

(Richard): There’s no buts, you’ve poured your heart and soul into this little wrestling pet project thing. They’re standing on their own two feet now George, it’s time to cut the cord and let the baby walk or fall on its own.

There’s silence as he considers his friends words.

(George Cheeks): Well listen, I’ll think it over like you said, get through the holidays, this Skydance thing and then see what’s what.

(Richard): Smart man…talk soon!

(George Cheeks): Yeah, talk soon!

They hang up, and George turns to look out the window taking in the city view. It was late, he was tired, it was time to head home. He had to try and focus on the holidays, Skydance, but this invite and NDA changed everything. Best case scenario they have nothing to say, and the worst…the worst is him knowing and carrying the burden of absolute confidentiality or being responsible for bringing down a giant…a hundred-year-old company and his entire livelihood, because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. The F5 swirled and raged at the very thought of the few options: peace, self-preservation, or total collapse. He grabbed his coat, keys and brief and was out the door as the scene fades to black.