He paced while watching her hit the ropes. He doubted she needed to prove she could, rebounding every sixteen feet with a push would have been easier than boot camp. It did give him an few moments to run his mind over this all, however, and he was plainly aware that she knew what he was doing. His eyes watched her but his focus was elsewhere.
Television. He didn't follow her in Japan, didn't know her name or her reputation. It was possible she was telling lies to trick something out of him but he knew what little stock he held with the Big Names and figured that if she was trying to extort him, the joke would be on her.
"So you want to make good television?" he finally asked.
"Yes sir." She didn't stop running, and the pause between her words was deliberate, though not on account of her needing to stop to breathe.
"You can stop running. Marine background served you well. I've seen guys half my size get blown up while doing half that run." Her breathing was labored but not gasping. He had hoped for such a result. "You're not worried they're going to just stick you in some painted-on sparkle bikini and make you mess up armdrags and bulldogs?" She was obviously fit and in shape but her sweats didn't say much else about her, but he didn't let her speak just yet.
"I wonder what capacity they'll want you in. You've got a look that really could go either way. The righteous, America-loving background that makes you the indefatigable spirit of a true competitor. The sultry siren who cheats to get her way and works her way up through sowing mistrust and discord. I doubt you'll have much say in it."
Avalanche waved her out of the ring. If she wasn't here to learn the physical, she didn't need to be made to do meaningless exercises while he thought things over. He showed her back towards the office, his cheap desk still cluttered. Always cluttered. He gestured for her to sit, the only seats of course being the old standby.
"My idea for television was to never give the crowd what they wanted. The companies I worked for were much different, very free-form back then. We had a large enough draw, but small enough that a lot of our fans considered themselves Smart. They knew the bad guys were hamming it up on purpose, and that the faces were appealing to them with brutality and raw emotion. I knew that if I went out and did my part as the typical Monster Heel, they'd still cheer. Who can't get behind the roaring rampage of the big guy? They're still using that angle today, even in the Big companies."
He paused, giving her a moment to chime in if she chose, but she just nodded, soaking up his diatribe like a sponge. He smiled politely.
"I think you knew all of this, though. I wanted people to want to see me get mine. I knew they'd support the Bad Guy, so I made sure to not even give them that. They wanted to see big matches, I gave them none of it. They wanted to see the Rising Star take down the Cocky Jerk, I counted myself out. They wanted to see me lose in title matches and drop the belt, I disqualified myself with a steel chair. If they stipped that DQ or Countout would result in a change of title, I'd no-show. I got people to hate me for weeks and months at a time so when I finally did go down, my opponent would be God's Gift to Wrestling." He reeled himself in, letting the passion that had slipped in slip its way back out. His shoulders went down, the subconscious promo coming to an end.
She was smiling again.
There was a casual coarseness in the way she sat and the particular choices in her speech that rang comfortably. She came across like one of the boys, and that was a good thing. He listened with a polite and slightly flattered grin as she talked about her opinions regarding his career and the things she had to say about him. He nodded in sympathy as she mentioned the things that happened to her in her youth, not unfamiliar with the stigma a girl who wants to wrestle and join the military is saddled with.
ReplyDeleteJust as he was feeling comfortable with what was asked of him and she mentioned she'd already met with wardrobe, she dropped the bombshell. They didn't just want her on television, they wanted him too. He looked at the page, back at her and her serene, knowing smile and then took a longer look at what was written.
"They want me to come in? Are they that desperate?" He barked out a confused and almost nervous laugh. "I haven't been competitive in years now, and was hardly anyone known on the scale they'll want." He let the page slide down from his grasp. "They'll probably want to stick me with a stupid name in a managerial position..."
He stuck a hand to his chin, stroking it thoughtfully and keeping his gaze away from hers. "I suppose it won't hurt to talk to them about it, though. Besides, if I'm going to be your mentor-of-sorts for the next couple weeks, I should probably check out what they've got in mind. You said you already had an idea of a concept and costume, are you free to talk about that? It'll help me help you come up with some angles, things to say or do."
He changed the subject, his mind touching on the last time he was actually wrestling for a living. Times were tumultuous back then, with companies opening and closing with alarming frequency. A lot of the faces and names were the same from door to door, but almost all of those guys were out of the business now. He hadn't made it a point to keep in touch once he settled back home.
"What's your take on this? Was this part of the deal they offered to you, or the one you offered to them?" He looks back at her, amusement creeping into his lips. She seemed the sort to take that kind of gamble sight unseen.
Stretched out on a bed too small and too worn, the man known to the public as Avalanche weighed his future. The meeting had gone as well as it could have, but his thoughts weren't on that. All they'd asked him for was a test run. Show up unexpectedly, show off a little in the ring, get dumped outside. Future work pended on fan reaction, internet buzz, the normal nine yards for the business. The decisions made sense, were logical. Something still seemed off, though.
ReplyDeleteThe second thought he had when she showed him the gimmick costume was that it seemed somehow perfectly antiquated for the modern era. Everyone knew the days of wrestling trash men and dentists was gone, though the idea of a sexy spy seemed to work. He wondered if they'd give her an accent, since the foreign heel was an easy way to develop interest in the character. It had potential, but in an old-fashioned kind of way. The internet would eat her up and cherish her, for sure.
He reflected on how appropriate it seemed that the woman who would be playing a spy had showed up in his office with a bundle of papers and secrets. That was the bit he couldn't quite figure out. If there was an interest in him, the typical method was to send someone out to see him officially, or drop a call at least. Using developmental talent to scout a comeback from a former star who didn't even work for them was definitely not the norm.
Still. She presented an option, one that turned out to be legit even if he didn't somehow expect it to be. Papers had been signed the day after she showed up, the hour after she had left after their training. He didn't speak much about it during their practice, which wasn't even much of a practice. They had watched tapes from days gone by, he tried to explain to her how you get the feel for timing of when to let the crowd see a bit of payoff before the Big Match. Limited ring work even if he did want to see her perform. Not the time or the place for it currently.
She respected his distance on the subject, even if she did shoot him a smile with that knowing gleam in her eye a few times too often for the material at hand. She had the upper hand in their strange relationship for the time being, but he didn't mind. His curiosity was piqued and she was taking her time to milk it. The money was good and she was plenty easy on the eyes so complaints were minimal.
The next day he'd tell her the formal signing had taken place and he'd talk a bit with her about what the deal consisted of so far. Strictly trial, nothing promised beyond night one. He already knew the sort of she-devilish grin she'd meet him with but he didn't mind that either. Playing along with her so far had been fun in a way the business hadn't been for a long time. He was looking forward to see how it progressed.