Post by Deleted on Sept 10, 2022 21:59:48 GMT -5
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Benson Estate, New Jersey
Ninth of September, twenty and twenty-two
Early afternoon
The champion remained patient. The scheduled time for his meeting with Ms. Benson had expired thirty minutes prior, but a woman embroiled in controversy and utterly despised by so many was bound to get caught up in stuff from time to time, he justified. He nodded to the two beefy sentries guarding the door who kept eyeballing him like he’d steal something any moment.
He perused the office more and sipped on the freebie Starbucks coffee he’d been gifted from the kiosk in Ms. Benson’s estate. Apparently when you’re aristocratic as Ms. Benson you can put coffee shops outside your living room. He wondered if all rich white ladies had such luxuries? He admired the fancy artwork in the superficial manner of one who doesn’t understand it. He frowned at the tacky animal kill trophies affixed to the wall and quizzically perused the collected relics from vast reaches of the globe - possibly with ancient curses attached to them, until he happened upon a wall covered with family photos and achievement certificates.
One stood out to him. It was of a younger Sonya Benson posing side by side with her little brother Benjamin. They were in a lab and in the foreground, dead center of them, was a robot looking of the same ilk as Johnny 5 from Short Circuit. Sonya and Benjamin were holding opposite ends of a certificate, beaming proud smiles. He squinted his eyes to ascertain the words on it.
“Carnegie Mellon University robotics and engineering awards Sonya Benson and Benjamin Benson - “
His attention was peeled away suddenly by the door opening and the quick busting of several footsteps. It was Sonya Benson at last, joined by her front line manager Norris and her monolith of a bodyguard Smith. The reviled lady wore a navy blue pinstripe pant suit and made a beeline for her desk, not offering apologies for her tardiness nor courtesy of proper introductions. Norris, on the other hand, was eager to engage.
“Duncan freakin’ Shepard! THE Final Boss of Level Up! Thank you so much for coming!” he bellowed with a hand extended for a shake.
Duncan was taken aback for a moment. He hadn’t expected such a warm welcome from a place that had thus far felt so cold. He had been watching Sonya pass him by when the man spoke up and Duncan’s head snapped back abruptly. He took the proffered hand on instinct and gripped it firmly.
“Uh- of course. Thanks for the invite,” he managed to say as he recomposed himself. He turned to look at Sonya again as she sat down as if expecting her to say something. She wasn’t even looking at him though, momentarily busying herself with papers on the desk. Duncan turned back to the man whose hand he was still idly shaking. “I’m sorry mate, I didn’t catch your name.”
“You can call me Norris,” the man said, smiling broadly, “I’m Ms. Benson’s front line manager and a big fan of yours. Your title defense at Combat Evolved was amazing.”
Duncan smiled warmly, “I appreciate that,” he said and released his grip on Norris’s hand. “I hope that means you’ve been putting in good words for me with your boss here,” Duncan added, jutting his head back towards Sonya.
Norris opened his mouth to say something but was cut off as Sonya loudly and purposefully cleared her throat. “You can get his autograph after the meeting, Norris. Mr. Shepard, please sit.” The stunning young woman motioned to the chair across from her glossed oakwood desk.
As he approached, she gave him a once-over. It wasn’t the complimentary kind a guy would normally welcome from a woman, oh no, it was one of pure cold judgment. Duncan took his seat as did Norris and Smith on either side of him. Shepard was going to speak but the unwelcoming expression, led by oceanic blue eyes pinned firmly on his, told him his words wouldn’t be heard.
“Look,” she started and steepled her fingers. “I believe in transparency. I don’t beat around the bush, so I’m gonna get right to the point. I don’t like you. I don't like your odor. I don’t like your accent. I don’t like your horrid fashion sense. You’re an aspect of all that I oppose. But..”
She pursed her flawlessly formed lips and bit the bottom one. Oh how she did NOT want to say what she was about to. “I um, I… um, I need you. And since Norris and Mr. Hitmaker rated you so highly and you actually agreed to this, I will set aside my disdain and extend a…” Again she paused. What a nasty taste swallowing one’s pride leaves. “Thank you,” she said alas.
Since the word odor had left Sonya’s mouth Duncan had been sniffing himself, first his shirt, then inside it before turning to Norris, recognizing a possible ally and mouthing to him, ‘do I smell?” Norris shook his head reassuringly. While half listening Duncan’s attention was drawn back once he’d realized Sonya had stopped talking and was most likely expecting a response.
“I’m sorry, what was that last bit again?” he asked.
Sonya seemed to clench her jaw and set Duncan with a disdainful and judgmental look that made any she had worn previously look like warm smiles. “I said,” she began, speaking through firmly set teeth, “thank you.”
“Right, thought so. Well then, frankly Sonya as you’ve stated you need me, so it really doesn’t matter that you don’t like me. Honestly, from what I’ve seen so far I don’t like you much either. I don’t like your vanity, I don’t like your vulgar displays of wealth, I don’t like your apparent belief that you are better than everyone around you. While we’re being transparent, would you like to know why I’ve agreed to do this?”
“I’ve assumed it has something to do with the extortionate amount of money I will be paying you.”
“No,” said Duncan, shaking his head, “I’m doing it for fun.”
“Fun?” Sonya asked with disbelief.
“Fun,” Duncan repeated, “and as soon as it ceases to be fun for me I’ll be out the door. So while I am imparting fifteen years of experience and knowledge to you, try not be a brat about it.”
Sonya's look of disbelief turned to disappointment then to confusion.
“Mr. Shepard, I believe there’s been miscommunication. I don’t know what kind of imbeciles you’ve been dealing with the last 15 years, but our arrangement isn’t going to be on a handshake or a word is your bond horse puckey.” She jabbed a manicured fingertip onto the stack of papers on her desk. It wasn’t until now that Duncan noticed the parchment was legal documents.
“And I assure you, Mr. Shepard,” she continued while RUDELY shoving the ream of papers across the desk to him. “I’m not a dolt like the Director you report to in that silly video game promotion you geek out for, nor am I a glitter-brained gumdrop like that blonde popcorn fart you were too spineless to pull the trigger on.”
Duncan barely had time to register the first sentence on the contract before his attention was ripped back to Sonya’s scowling but gorgeous features. The bitch had brought up Emily. She’d done her homework, that was for sure.
“The only way we’re doing this is by legal contract. This means you don’t get to just skip away when you get bored. Our contract will be fair. You’ll be compensated in a number of ways. Food? Done. Lodging? Check. Money? Duh. Fashion? Absolutely. Mr. Hitmaker even convinced me to offer incentives. If I win a match you get an extra boon. It could be a new vehicle or a vacation home, etcetera. If you breach it though? I’ll make sure you don’t have a gosh damn box for a roof. You’ll yearn to be living in the back of a van again.”
Now it was Shepard’s jaw that tightened. He gritted his teeth. The rich bitch leaned forward.
“As for fun? There’s nothing fun about this. Some of your friends will turn on you. Your peers will scorn you. You will lose fans, lots of them. Your opponents will roast you on the mic. If you have sponsors and endorsement, you’ll lose some of them. Those are the prices you’ll pay for associating with me in this manner. Thaddeus Duke couldn’t handle the pressure. Damon Riggs couldn’t handle my father. They took training me seriously, so I strongly, STRONGLY suggest you don’t treat this partnership like it’s a Saturday night card game with the fellas.”
Duncan nodded a little as he reached forward and picked up the thick legal document that had been pushed towards him. “Wow,” he said casually, brushing off Sonya’s dramatic warnings, “even when you’re paying them you still need this much legal documentation to make people spend time with you. That’s a bit sad isn’t it.” His remarks made Sonya’s jaw tighten again.
He made a show of weighing the contract in his hands, making an expression of mock physical exertion as he did so. “Well, I’ll be sure to read this,” he scoffed at his own words, “who am I kidding. I’ll have my agent read it. I think you know him, best in the business, and as long as it’s clear you’re not trying to pull anything on me we’ll have ourselves a deal.” Duncan got out of his seat and took a step away, tucking the contract under his arm but then turned back. “As for me losing fans and all of the rest of that very scary little speech I’d have you consider this in return. Rather than me losing fans through association with you have you thought that just maybe you might gain fans through association with me? You see, I’m going to teach you to wrestle, not fight, not brawl, wrestle. Do you know what wrestling fans love Sonya?”
“Chicken wings, beer and their own idiotic opinions in my experience.” She clapped back at him.
“Accurate,” Duncan conceded, “but what they really love is wrestlers who are good at wrestling. That’s what you’ll be soon and do you want to know something else?”
Sonya gave him an unenthused look. “Enlighten me,” she said dryly.
“By the time you’ve got your remaining seventeen wins, you’re going to love wrestling too. You’re not even going to want to quit. You’re welcome in advance.”
Sonya bolted to a stand, dainty fists balled at her sides. He’d struck a chord with her.
“This meeting is adjourned!” She growled at him, nostrils flared. “You need to leave right this instance Duncan Shepard!” She barked, somehow managing not to scream at the Level Up Final Boss Champion.
Without rebuttal, Duncan did as requested and exited. Awkward silence followed the abrupt ending of the meeting, until Norris ran a hand through his feathered blonde hair and nervously chuckled. “Well that went surprisingly well all things considered.”
Sonya weighed his words and pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head. “He’s a muppet, Norris. He has no idea what he’s getting into.” She replied.
The most beautiful woman in this world and the worlds not yet discovered plopped back into her posh leather chair. “If only John Cable wasn’t a Chris Page shill. I’d pick him. At least he has some decorum.”
Sonya whipped out her cellphone and hit the speed dial for Johnny Hitmaker.
The End