Post by Grimoire Xmyles on Aug 19, 2018 15:57:10 GMT -5
Another day. Another dollar.
Irrespective of the chaos that surrounds the wrestling ring even beyond the ring ropes that are designed to contain such disorder, there are those that work behind the scenes who are necessary to ensure a smooth transition between the real world and the supposed world that we are led to believe exists in the wrestling ring; “the wrestling world,” as some might call it.
It is of little surprise that the turnover of staff is akin to a revolving door with shoppers who are dissatisfied with the goods on offer ahead of those who wish to find the best deals.
One such occurrence is happening in front of our eyes.
“Welcome to the World’s Greatest Wrestling Federation; the WGWF,” a suited managerial figure greets to her much younger, enthusiastic subordinate.
“It’s a pleasure,” the newcomer smiles. “I’m keen to get started. What do you need me to do first?”
“I think it will be best to ease you into the role,” the executive remarks. “We’ll get your workstation configured and have you sit with some of your colleagues so you can shadow them and get a feel for life in the WGWF.”
“Sounds good to me,” the greenhorn beams, rubbing his hands together with enthusiasm.
“Of course you will have the opportunity to meet some of the WGWF stars that you will be responsible for overseeing,” the executive remarks as they continue to traverse the corridor, which fills the young recruit with glee. The expression on his face becomes euphoric; his dream of meeting his favourite competitors coming truer and truer in front of his eyes. “You are to remain professional in front of them at all times,” the department’s head states with a hint of sternness. “These individuals are the faces of our company and the ones that the fans have the greatest connection with. It is our responsibility to ensure that any grievances that they had are investigated and address in a timely and effective manner.” The newcomer’s star-struck expression is quickly extinguished. He clears his throat and nods respectfully of his manager’s wishes.
“Understood,” he nods. They come to a stop outside of a vacant meeting room; it’s walls are composed of glass panes with translucent strips that provide at least a small degree of privacy. To the right of the door is a water dispenser; a bulbously cylindrical container sits upside down on top of the dispensing machine with a tower of paper cups stacked at its side.
“I just need to fetch some paperwork and we’ll sit down and go through your contract,” the manager states. “Help yourself to a glass of water. I’ll be back in a moment.” Without another word, the manager heads off into the labyrinth of corridors and workstation partitions.
Bubbles rattle through the thick plastic container as it bestows water. Once it is full, the new employee takes a sip, flinching in surprise at just how cold it is before heading into the meeting room. He flicks the light-switch and looks towards the table and the four seats that surround it.
One of them is occupied.
He didn’t envisage his first day consisting of seeing a clown performing an act of self-fornication in front of a framed photograph.
He squints his eyes. Is this actually happening?
The clown looks up for a moment, but does not appear to be too disturbed from his act. He soon goes back to, for lack of a better term, ‘finishing what he started.’ Stunned into statuesque silence, the young recruit does not even think about exiting the room. Instead, nervously and awkwardly, he looks away as the clown lets out a groan, followed by a long sigh, giggling to himself cheerily. After taking a breath, he finally notices.
“Ooh… you’re new!” he remarks slyly before standing up. The newcomer recoils as the clown takes “I’m Grimoire Xmyles. Shake my hand.”
He extends his arm; the palm of his hand covered in a repulsive ooze.
“Uh…” the member of staff stammers hesitantly, shuffling towards the door.
“Didn’t you hear me? My name is Grimoire Xmyles. I’m telling you to shake my hand.” Again, the greenhorn looks pensive. He moves closer towards the door, but he grimaces as the psychotic clown clamps his forearm with his tainted hand. He squints his eyes shut before being spun around. Grimoire now stands as the barrier between the new recruit and the door; his peers seemingly oblivious to his plight. “Are you deaf?” Grimoire taunts. “Are you braindead? Do as I fucking say and shake… my… hand!”
The increase in severity of his threats do nothing ot provoke any further instigation. The newcomer remains motionless, shocked into a stunned and motionless state of paralysis.
It is far too late for the error of his ways to become noticeable to him. Only his manager is able to gain an indication of his plight…
…resultant of the blood that splatters across the glass; not even the translucent strips giving him the dignity that he perhaps deserves…
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“This is most salubrious for me.”
“Congratulations, Chris. You made your point. I’ve heard you loud and clear.”
“As a result of your coordinated attack with Adam Barker, you have proven just how much of a fucking moron you truly are.”
“What statement were you trying to make? You should know by now that you cannot break what is already broken. Bruises heal after all. But a broken mind… well, arguably even the greatest minds cannot repair such a thing. You fail to realise the futility of your endeavours and tried to take the easy way out by eliminating me completely. But like the cockroach that can survive even the zenith of a nuclear winter, I live to fight another day.”
“You couldn’t finish the job. Whether that was because you simply didn’t want to or you didn’t have it in you, you have secured your own demise.”
“You lost the battle. And you will lose the war, for that is the fate that I have chosen for you.”
“I don’t think that Chris Page, or indeed the WGWF as a whole, can truly comprehend my malicious intentions for this company. When I say that I want to destroy the WGWF, I fucking mean it. The likes of Lunacy might simply want to throw the company into total disarray, but they do not seek to truly eradicate it from existence. That is where we differ. I want nothing more than for than for this fucking federation to crumble at my hand.“
“Here I stand as the most recognised evil within the WGWF; it’s greatest threat to it’s own survival. And the best they can throw my way in terms of resistance is Dustin Holt?”
“I’m not even going to dignify Dustin Holt’s existence by explaining just what I am going to do to him. Reminiscent of The Dark Shadow, perhaps he too will rise from the depths somewhere down the line to try and exact some sort of vengeance. Holt’s resurgence will have to be much more cadaverous. I have zero expectations of him putting up any sort of resistance…”
“More likely, he’ll just lay there and take his beating like the bitch that he is.”
“He’s not just going to lose the match. He’s going to lose his fucking life.”
“And then, once that short order of business is resolved, we can all move on to focus on more pressing matters…”
“Chris Page… I’m going to drag you down to my level. I am going to watch with glee as I cerebrally break you down, piece by piece, until there is nothing but a broken psyche.”
“Descend with me, Chris.”
“Descend with me.”
“Into Madness.”
Irrespective of the chaos that surrounds the wrestling ring even beyond the ring ropes that are designed to contain such disorder, there are those that work behind the scenes who are necessary to ensure a smooth transition between the real world and the supposed world that we are led to believe exists in the wrestling ring; “the wrestling world,” as some might call it.
It is of little surprise that the turnover of staff is akin to a revolving door with shoppers who are dissatisfied with the goods on offer ahead of those who wish to find the best deals.
One such occurrence is happening in front of our eyes.
“Welcome to the World’s Greatest Wrestling Federation; the WGWF,” a suited managerial figure greets to her much younger, enthusiastic subordinate.
“It’s a pleasure,” the newcomer smiles. “I’m keen to get started. What do you need me to do first?”
“I think it will be best to ease you into the role,” the executive remarks. “We’ll get your workstation configured and have you sit with some of your colleagues so you can shadow them and get a feel for life in the WGWF.”
“Sounds good to me,” the greenhorn beams, rubbing his hands together with enthusiasm.
“Of course you will have the opportunity to meet some of the WGWF stars that you will be responsible for overseeing,” the executive remarks as they continue to traverse the corridor, which fills the young recruit with glee. The expression on his face becomes euphoric; his dream of meeting his favourite competitors coming truer and truer in front of his eyes. “You are to remain professional in front of them at all times,” the department’s head states with a hint of sternness. “These individuals are the faces of our company and the ones that the fans have the greatest connection with. It is our responsibility to ensure that any grievances that they had are investigated and address in a timely and effective manner.” The newcomer’s star-struck expression is quickly extinguished. He clears his throat and nods respectfully of his manager’s wishes.
“Understood,” he nods. They come to a stop outside of a vacant meeting room; it’s walls are composed of glass panes with translucent strips that provide at least a small degree of privacy. To the right of the door is a water dispenser; a bulbously cylindrical container sits upside down on top of the dispensing machine with a tower of paper cups stacked at its side.
“I just need to fetch some paperwork and we’ll sit down and go through your contract,” the manager states. “Help yourself to a glass of water. I’ll be back in a moment.” Without another word, the manager heads off into the labyrinth of corridors and workstation partitions.
Bubbles rattle through the thick plastic container as it bestows water. Once it is full, the new employee takes a sip, flinching in surprise at just how cold it is before heading into the meeting room. He flicks the light-switch and looks towards the table and the four seats that surround it.
One of them is occupied.
He didn’t envisage his first day consisting of seeing a clown performing an act of self-fornication in front of a framed photograph.
He squints his eyes. Is this actually happening?
The clown looks up for a moment, but does not appear to be too disturbed from his act. He soon goes back to, for lack of a better term, ‘finishing what he started.’ Stunned into statuesque silence, the young recruit does not even think about exiting the room. Instead, nervously and awkwardly, he looks away as the clown lets out a groan, followed by a long sigh, giggling to himself cheerily. After taking a breath, he finally notices.
“Ooh… you’re new!” he remarks slyly before standing up. The newcomer recoils as the clown takes “I’m Grimoire Xmyles. Shake my hand.”
He extends his arm; the palm of his hand covered in a repulsive ooze.
“Uh…” the member of staff stammers hesitantly, shuffling towards the door.
“Didn’t you hear me? My name is Grimoire Xmyles. I’m telling you to shake my hand.” Again, the greenhorn looks pensive. He moves closer towards the door, but he grimaces as the psychotic clown clamps his forearm with his tainted hand. He squints his eyes shut before being spun around. Grimoire now stands as the barrier between the new recruit and the door; his peers seemingly oblivious to his plight. “Are you deaf?” Grimoire taunts. “Are you braindead? Do as I fucking say and shake… my… hand!”
The increase in severity of his threats do nothing ot provoke any further instigation. The newcomer remains motionless, shocked into a stunned and motionless state of paralysis.
It is far too late for the error of his ways to become noticeable to him. Only his manager is able to gain an indication of his plight…
…resultant of the blood that splatters across the glass; not even the translucent strips giving him the dignity that he perhaps deserves…
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“This is most salubrious for me.”
“Congratulations, Chris. You made your point. I’ve heard you loud and clear.”
“As a result of your coordinated attack with Adam Barker, you have proven just how much of a fucking moron you truly are.”
“What statement were you trying to make? You should know by now that you cannot break what is already broken. Bruises heal after all. But a broken mind… well, arguably even the greatest minds cannot repair such a thing. You fail to realise the futility of your endeavours and tried to take the easy way out by eliminating me completely. But like the cockroach that can survive even the zenith of a nuclear winter, I live to fight another day.”
“You couldn’t finish the job. Whether that was because you simply didn’t want to or you didn’t have it in you, you have secured your own demise.”
“You lost the battle. And you will lose the war, for that is the fate that I have chosen for you.”
“I don’t think that Chris Page, or indeed the WGWF as a whole, can truly comprehend my malicious intentions for this company. When I say that I want to destroy the WGWF, I fucking mean it. The likes of Lunacy might simply want to throw the company into total disarray, but they do not seek to truly eradicate it from existence. That is where we differ. I want nothing more than for than for this fucking federation to crumble at my hand.“
“Here I stand as the most recognised evil within the WGWF; it’s greatest threat to it’s own survival. And the best they can throw my way in terms of resistance is Dustin Holt?”
“I’m not even going to dignify Dustin Holt’s existence by explaining just what I am going to do to him. Reminiscent of The Dark Shadow, perhaps he too will rise from the depths somewhere down the line to try and exact some sort of vengeance. Holt’s resurgence will have to be much more cadaverous. I have zero expectations of him putting up any sort of resistance…”
“More likely, he’ll just lay there and take his beating like the bitch that he is.”
“He’s not just going to lose the match. He’s going to lose his fucking life.”
“And then, once that short order of business is resolved, we can all move on to focus on more pressing matters…”
“Chris Page… I’m going to drag you down to my level. I am going to watch with glee as I cerebrally break you down, piece by piece, until there is nothing but a broken psyche.”
“Descend with me, Chris.”
“Descend with me.”
“Into Madness.”