The Tarnished Crown Will Fall Among the Rivers of Blood. WAR
Sept 5, 2024 22:02:30 GMT -5
Ezra Gideon likes this
Post by TheNewBreed on Sept 5, 2024 22:02:30 GMT -5
“Mr. Winthrope, first and foremost, I want to reiterate that we do appreciate the effort you've put into bringing these issues to light among the members of the Board, and for organizing the Shareholders to bring this vote before us. It is Shareholders like those who have signed this motion into effect, that ensure that our company will continue to be successful into the future, and I assure you that we will be taking these reports and acting upon them accordingly. We have a duty to our Shareholders, to perform our appropriate due diligence in matters such as these, and to make responsible and informed decisions for the WGWF in all matters.” the shrewd looking man in the tweed suit at the head of the dais said in a squeaky, high pitched, nasally tone as he pressed his thin gold framed glasses back up his sharply pointed nose and blinked at the papers in his hands as he shuffled them about nervously.
“However, that being said, Sir... in the matter of Chris Page's past and his responsibility for the closure of the WGWF on previous occasions... While the case you have presented is factually accurate, and Page's actions revolving around his son, Andy Johnson, and the injuries he has caused either through his own malice or through his negligence to the roster under contract to him in years past... those cases have already been tried and those fines have been settled. In addition, Chris Page was operating the WGWF at that time as a sole proprietorship, and had all of the appropriate insurances and legal coverage to alleviate the legal issues those times in the history of the WGWF have caused. As far as the Board is concerned... while we recognize the impact these sorts of actions could have on the current iteration of the WGWF, those events happened within a different company, in a different time, and those concerns have been mitigated within the current WGWF structure, and are not a fact of contention for us to address at present.” the man stated, his voice weak and unsure, but sticking to the corporate script nonetheless.
“Furthermore, the Board finds that your involvement with this matter is not merely a gesture by a concerned Shareholder, but instead an agenda driven witch hunt by an employee who disagrees with the choices the owner has made with regards to the functionality and process of the company, and is now attempting to persuade this Board to take legal actions against the owner of the WGWF in retaliation of the lost financial gains the New Breed Foundation has suffered since being removed from WGWF Sponsor's Programs and the Marketing Department, and the contract that was revoked on your behalf with Lock Down Securities. We believe it is more likely that the loss of those contracts is the driving factor behind your push for a Vote of No Confidence today, and you have used your position as a Shareholder to gain access to contacts within the Shareholder Network, and have actively been promoting a nefarious ideology as to the future of the company as a whole to drive Share prices down so that you may increase your holding and factor into a larger majority of the vote among Shareholders at a lower cost to yourself and your investment interests.” the man says as he looks over top of the stack of papers sheepishly, catching the direct gaze of John Cable staring daggers through him with a grimace plastered across his twisted visage before quickly averting his gaze and refocusing on the papers in his hand.
“In addition... to address the concern of Chris Page's recent actions backstage, and his part in the rise of the Fortunate Ones to prominence within the WGWF and the accusations of favoritism and unfair practices towards the roster... It is the belief of the Board of Directors that the programming and the direction of faction growth and popularity or infamy within the WGWF is at the sole discretion of the Owner, Chris Page, and it is his job to drive the show and book the talent as he sees fit. This is not the purveyance of the Board of Directors, and is solely the responsibility of the owner. As for the medical liability to those roster members who have recently been injured, either backstage or in a match... it is the responsibility of the WGWF and their liability carriers to provide financial compensation as to the legal limits that we adhere to, just like every other company operating around the world. Those liabilities have, and always will be, paid as we are required to, and any statement to the contrary is an utter lie. The WGWF has maintained its responsibility to the contracted employees as appropriate, and therefore, this too is a matter that we have no interest in addressing at this time, nor do we feel that we should have to. It is a non-factor as far as we are concerned, and it should also be for the Shareholders. We assure you that we are acting within the best interests of our roster and all of our employees, and those matters requiring payments and liability responsibility have already been taken care of, and will continue to be so in the future.” the man says from behind his papers, nearly huddled in the chair at the far end of the room as he warily delivers the proclamation to the assembled room of Shareholders and reporters in attendance.
After a terror filled moment, the man peered over the top of the pages in his hand again as he slowly stood, wondering at the silence he was met with after his announcement.
He had expected an angry rant...
A heartfelt admonishment...
A monster rushing at him with death in his eyes...
He had not expected silence...
He looked across the void between the dais and the podium, and where once he had bore witness to the visage of an angry brutal monster who seemed to want to do nothing less than rip his skull and spine from his neck... there was nothing.
John Cable was gone.
The Head of the Board of Directors realized he hadn't breathed in several moments longer than he should have as his hands began to shake. He sucked in a massive, ragged breath and exhaled as the room of eyes watched on before he slumped back into his chair.
* * * * *
“So... what'd you say to that weasel face little fucker?” Sebastian's voice filled the cab of the Axtgrift from the sound system.
“I didn't say anything. I left.” John answered gruffly, still pissed at the response by the Board of Directors as he sat in the parking garage at the WGWF Offices in Las Vegas.
“What the hell do you mean you left? You didn't give him a piece of your mind? Tell them how fucking stupid they are? Something? Anything?” Sebastian squealed in disbelief.
“What was the point of doing any of that? They decided what they decided. What good would it do me to tell them what they either already know, or won't understand in the first place? They're blind, or ignorant... and in either case, if the company fails because Page can't get his head out of his ass and start running it like a business instead of his own personal circus then it does, and if it doesn't... it doesn't. I guess it is what it is, honestly.” John sighs as he fiddles with a knob on the portal controls, setting some numbers into the input.
“I mean...” Sebastian started to form a protest, but R2 clicked into its docking port in the back wall between the cab and bed, and interrupted as its cables slid into place and the egg shaped droid linked up to the truck.
”John Cable, we are prepared to jump. All system checks come back clear. No dimensional interference detected.” it chirps in its normal cheery clicks and whirs as the bright green eye light swirls and focuses itself.
“OK. Gimme a few and we can head out. I want to check a few things before we do, R2.” John says to the droid before turning his focus back to his tag partner.
“Seabass... look. I've come to the realization over the last few years that it honestly doesn't matter how many times I say the same thing to the same people... if they aren't going to understand it they just aren't. Sometimes it isn't even that they don't understand... it's that they actively ignore the facts and believe whatever they want to because... well because they just do. I know that right now the WGWF seems like it's running smooth as glass, and everything is on the up and up. Profit margins are good but the financial reports for the quarter without my contracts haven't hit the table yet. They think they're making good business decisions because the ratings are good and the merch sales are still solid, while what they don't see is the future looming just over the horizon... and those clouds are dark and foreboding.” John says softly, sadly.
“What does that even mean, John?” Sebastian asks, trying to understand what his cryptic words are alluding to.
“Eventually, all of this shit that Page has stirred up is going to come to a head, and the Unfortunate Ones are gonna buckle under the pressure of having to live up the hype they've created. When that happens, and the whole thing implodes on them... I'll be right there with the biggest 'I fucking told you so' you ever saw... but in the meantime... I have too much other shit to do to keep standing places and trying to tell them how Page is fucking them all over. I already spent too much time warning JMont about the bullshit, and now he's in over his head and he belongs to Chris Page, even if he hasn't figured it out quite yet.” John remarks as he shakes his head in disgust at the depth JMont was willing to sink to seem important only to find himself the lap dog of the boss after everything he spouted about being the one making the calls for himself for a change.
“Hell, as if anyone needed any more evidence as to the game that Page is playing at, Clyde Newton got handed a fucking fire extinguisher and sent to the ring to face me... and I'd be willing to bet it was Chris Page who put that little nugget in his brain knowing damned well Clyde had no clue what kind of Pandora's box he would open with that stunt. And too... I bet Page whispered that funny bit about taking my Title with him at Summer Madness. He knows damned well that the last two times I won the WGWF World Title he had someone waiting in the wings to strip it from me before I ever even got my hands on it, and this was his way to remind me that it's his show, and his rules. He's the king after all... and we are all just monkeys crashing cymbals to his beats for his pleasure if you ask him about it.” John sneers thinking about how smug Page must be right now... thinking he has all the pieces on the board just where he wants them.
“He can't think this is gonna be an easy fight. I mean, he talks a lot of shit, but he knows you pretty well. He does realize this isn't just a fight to you, right?” Sebastian asks over the speakers.
“Honestly, the only thing I'm sure of is that Page has a plan... no matter what happens on Smash... Page always has a plan. If he wins, it won't matter to him because it's just like he said it would be. Nothing special. If he loses... Well, he's just a guy after all and everyone loses sometimes. He isn't an active fighter anymore, and even though he just beat Ragnarok and the tiny clown... What difference does it make in the long run if he has another loss to me anyway? It doesn't hurt HIM... he employs the best fighters in the world for the WGWF, and while I may not be his favorite, fighters in his company are the best after all... so no matter what happens at Smash... Page has a plan... and an excuse to burn just in case he has to eat his words for a change.” John smirks and rolls his eyes as Sebastian mocks a retching sound at the thought of how Page might spin this whole ordeal when it was all said and done.
“Look... I got a couple of things to take care of before I get to the gym tonight. You still meeting me at the complex in Arizona?” John asks.
“Yeah. Gotta do two PT s this afternoon with the new recruits before I hand em over to Owen for the weekend, but I'll see you at eight tonight.” Sebastian answers before they say their goodbyes and the call ends.
“OK, R2... show me every match Page has ever lost. Cross reference for same opponents, and effective tactics leveraged on statically advantageous styles and maneuvers. No need to actually go there... holographic facsimile will be sufficient.” John says to R2.
“John Cable, would you like me to include the matches with you as well?” R2 asks flatly.
“Yeah... all three of em.” John responds with a slight grin as the purple tendrils start to whip through the purple smoke enveloping the truck.
“Yes, John Cable. In three... two... one...” R2 chirps before John, the droid, and the truck disappear in a burst of purple hard-light and a puff of smoke with a loud POP.
* * * * *
* * * * *
* * * * *
There are a great many things I have done for the WGWF, Page...
But kiss your nasty ass or beg for fucking anything was never among them.
While there are a great many of the numbers of talents you’ve had the pleasure to employ over the years and in recent months that have indeed prostrated themselves for your pleasure and have done your bidding like the good lap dogs that they are...
I was never one of them.
Chris... you know that already.
You do.
I've been in the WGWF for the better part of two decades, Page... and every time I feel like you step out of line, or you get too big for britches, or you start to overextend your authority as the owner...
I step to the plate, speak out for the rights of the masses, and put you in your place.
Every time...
I fight your minions...
I snuff out your army of yes men...
And then I put my foot in your ass for the fans' amusement.
We've played this out time and time again.
You get your way until you don't...
You throw your weight around to rile up a posse of under-talented, under-prepared gladiators...
I run through them like matchstick soldiers...
Then I run the gauntlet until the company closes or I manage to get my hands on you...
Either in the courtroom or the ring...
And I put you down, one way or the other.
Yet... even after all these years...
You still stick to this fictitious fairy tale you've spun about me that you want the world to believe...
A story you don't actually even believe yourself...
But you need to tell it anyway to build the suspense...
To ensure that it's always you who holds the pen...
Because, Page...
For you...
Controlling the narrative...
Is always more important to you than doing what's right...
And I know it.
Soon enough...
So will everyone else.
You can only play spin-doctor for so long before the ride flies apart, Page...
And the wheels on this one are wobbling.
You're relying on a man like JMont...
A man with no honor and no spine to speak of...
A man with the constitution of a waterlogged Jello...
To be the hero you appointed to be the savior of the people.
In reality...
You've found a puppet that's too stupid to fight you when you fuck him.
The same goes for Newton...
A man who has no idea what kind of mess he's in...
But you do...
And you did when you put him in the deep end with no floaties.
You shoved him head first into a hornets nest and tossed him in a river, Page...
And you know you did.
You did it because you wanted to punish him for being weaker than you needed him to be.
You needed him to do the impossible...
You needed him to step into the ring with Stone and me and win...
Fair and square...
Underhanded...
You didn't give a fuck.
You needed him to be better than he was...
You may not have given him the shot at the title...
But you gave him the spot on the roster...
You kept him in the service of JMont and the Unfortunate Ones...
You used him as a tool...
And then you let him hang himself for your amusement.
You did it because it made you laugh to see the reaction you got out of me...
Or so I thought...
I was wrong.
It wasn't about the reaction you got at all.
If I've learned anything in my years of dealing with you, Page...
It's that everything you do is for a reason.
Nothing wasted...
Nothing risked without a good reason...
Nothing done without knowing all the outcomes ahead of time.
You may not do things the way I would do them...
But you're not stupid, Page.
You have no moral compass...
You are a lecherous, opportunistic bastard in your dealings with others...
You always have an ulterior motive when dealing with anyone...
And your agenda is always paramount to all other outcomes in all things...
You may be a lot of things...
But stupid isn't one of them, Page.
No...
You've got a plan...
A purpose...
A reason behind what you did.
The more I think on it...
The more I see what you're playing at here.
You knew that I wasn't playing into your little game this time.
I left JMont to his own devices, and since you didn’t get the rise out of me you wanted to get...
You turned up the heat around here and waited until we all hit the boiling point.
You keep bringing up what I didn’t do all this time because you want to draw attention to it.
You KEEP talking about how I didn’t do anything about JMont…
For months the roster just belly ached and bitched.
Every week was another gripe session about air time and favoritism.
It was a constant complaint farm...
And in the controversy...
You thrived.
You played your plan out to perfection...
You drove ratings up...
You drove interest in investors to check out the rising numbers...
You drove the locker room insane with the bullshit you pulled...
And you stirred the pot at every turn.
You used everyone around you to put all the pieces in place...
You pitted Scotch against JB in the hierarchy and tried to humiliate Daniels.
You played the Unfortunate Ones right into place...
Hyping them into sacrificial Icarus' before the army formed against you...
All to keep you safe and secure in your fortress...
While those eager to prove their worth to you skewered themselves on spears held against you...
Not them.
You're a coward...
And a bully, Page.
You are the worst of us...
And that's what this is all about.
I know you're going to tell the world some made up story about it all skewed by your perspective...
But this is the truth of the matter, Chris.
Whether you want to believe it or not...
To me...
You're a blight to the rest of us.
You are everything that's wrong with society...
And on Smash...
I get to do what the fans around the world wish they could do on a daily basis.
I get to smash an asshole to death with my bare hands because he deserved it.
I get to take out the trash and protect any future victims you would create with your bullshit.
I get to save people from the vile nature of the worst segments of what we have become.
I get to stand up to the evil that pervades our society.
I get to rip that infected pustule of rotting deceit from the very flesh of the world.
And that's why I stay, Page.
I know it drives you crazy with wonder, Page.
It has been for a long time...
And you may not admit it...
But you wonder why the bullshit hasn't broken me yet.
You wonder why I stay here...
Why I put up with the constant betrayal and cheapening of the sport at your hands.
And this...
Right here is why, Page.
If I left...
Who would fight you?
Who would take up for the men and women who end up being your unwitting victims?
Who would call you out for your bullshit time and time again?
Who would fight the mindless zombies you pay to do the dirty work you won't do yourself?
Who would clean up your messes when you make em, Page?
And in the end...
Who would be the heart and soul of the Brand if I left?
JMont can't do it.
While Cholo is an amazing Champion, he ain't the face of the company with or without the Belt.
Mac tucked tail and ran into retirement with an abysmal record against me.
The rookies are still trying to figure out which door leads to the curtain.
None of the Titles in the under-card have a history long enough to matter outside of the TV Belt.
And at the end of the day...
No one has been the banner bearer of the WGWF longer than, or better than, I have been.
No matter what happens...
I won't give you the satisfaction of being rid of me to run rampant in your wonderland of fuckery.
I've always been just around the corner...
Waiting...
Watching...
Ready to stand up to you...
Just like I always have.
Monday night on Smash...
All of your mistakes are coming calling, Page...
And it's time to answer for your sins.
The debts are due...
And there's nowhere left to hide...
But the best part...
The best part of all of this, Page?
The best part is you think this is all going according to your little plan.
Your version of reality is that this is all part of your master play...
Your piece de resistance...
Your magnum opus...
A stroke of genius the likes unmatched.
But you're wrong, Chris.
I told you...
I don't beg for shit.
You'll find out the hard way that I'm through playing this cat and mouse game with you.
I knew how to get you right where I wanted you...
Not the other way around, Page.
I played my part...
You fell into the trap because your arrogance has always been your downfall…
And after all these years...
I've grown tired of having to correct your little fits of power.
I had hoped you would have learned your lesson by now,
But I can see that you never will.
You've always skirted being held accountable for your actions...
But the time has finally come to cut the crown from the brow of the fanciful King once and for all...
And if history is any indicator...
There isn't anyone else to do the job but me.
Here's to “Fourth Times a Fucker you Fucker”...
You thought this was your turn to punish me…
But instead…
You’ve climbed into the Lair of the Beast…
And I’m hungry for vengeance for all you’ve done.
Besides...
You don't deserve that crown, and I'm not sure you ever did.