Threaded Mode | Linear Mode

John Samuels · (03-19-2013)

The scene opens at the base of a large, freshly polished, mahogany desk.The camera pans up, and picks up the sound of a faint tapping amidst muffled voices. Reaching the peak of it's ascent, the camera fixes on John Samuels, slightly slouched over and tapping his pen on his desk repeatedly-- His eyes fixed on a tv screen sitting next to Representative Fairchild. The camera begins to clearly pick up the voice emanating from the television:

"...and last at least I wont be able to kick stupid punks egos asses."

Samuels groans and presses a button on the nearby remote, still tapping his pen on the desk.

"That's JC Styles? Good God, the man barely has a command of the English language!"

"That's Wisconsin for you." Fairchild quickly quips.

Samuels gives a half nod and shakes his pen towards her in agreement.

"I don't get it. He calls himself 'phenomenal.' The only thing phenomenal about this is that he's survived this long without wearing one of those helmets for special people. You know..."

Samuels looks left and right, and ducks down. He raises his hands up and uses air quotes to finish his statement: "The developmentally disabled." He chuckles as Fairchild nods in agreement. She looks at a notepad placed in front of her.

"Here's another, he has kids, yet isn't married."

Samuels offers a bemused sigh.

"Like we can really expect this guy to respect the sanctity of marriage. He's clearly a punch-drunk manchild with disillusioned dreams of making it big. He's a mixed martial arts enthusiast for Pete's sake! Human cockfighting! What a disgusting excuse for a 'sport.'"

Fairchild stands, ruffled. She begins to collect her things as Samuels curiously looks on.

"Sir, I understand everything you're saying and I agree one thousand percent. I will go down to the XWF offices and demand that you fight a more respectable opponent."

Samuels laughs and offers her back her seat, sitting himself down in the process.

"Let's not be too hasty here, Ann. I think we have a golden opportunity staring us right in the face. You forget, this isn't just about the wrestling, it's about the message. The message of a greater, more respectable America. It's common knowledge that before you cure a problem, you first have to admit that you have a problem. Do you think America knows that it's an immoral, despicable, cesspool? No, the people just continue on-- blissful ignorance. We need to fix America. We need to rip down the veil which sheaths the ugly truth. We need to expose the problem. I'll tell ya... When I look at this neanderthal, I see someone who fell through the cracks in the system. I see a failure. And really, if you look at the entirety of this country, there's millions out there like him. Where do you think this man will be once he becomes a laughing stock? He's got kids, remember? He'll be downtown, looking to make his way by mooching off the rest of us-- The ones who earn their money! And it doesn't stop there. Oh no, not even close. Because where do you think his children will end up? They'll be just like him, leeching off the taxpayers while they pop out four of five children of their own. Maybe they'll marry an illegal, and have their anchor babies.

A moment of clarity stirkes Samuels. He begins nodding, staring off into the distance. Fairchild clears her throat, attempting to draw Samuels' attention but he only smiles and paces back and forth.

"It's an infestation. An infestation that we can stop. That I can stop. Once I show the world what kind of parasite we have dwelling in our country, they'll be forced to take action. No more handouts. No more turning a blind eye to the illegal aliens and immoral homosexuals.You know, maybe this was meant to be? Maybe this whelp was the perfect opponent. Part of a divine plan, perhaps. After all, God blessed America... Not cursed. He wouldn't want thugs and lowlifes like JC Styles being put into positions of prominence. He'd want them to be made example of. And that's exactly what I intend to do. Afterall, I'm exactly what this company needs. What this country needs. A man of integrity. A man who refuses to bow down to those spineless liberals and hippies who think it's okay to stray from the beliefs of our forefathers, and this paradise they established. A man who is ready to step up and save America, single-handedly. One lost soul at a time, I'm here to restore the greatness of my people!"

Fairchild chimes in

"You know, he's one of those guys that the people gravitate toward. They like to see him in action. And I kind of get the feeling that you may not be quite as... popular."

Samuels stops in tracks and turns toward Fairchild, a puzzled look on his face.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, sir, your positions aren't exactly the most popular among the general populace.."

"Who cares about what they think!? They don't know what's good for them! I DO! They can boo me all they want, the shortsighted buffoons, but I am here for their benefit whether they like it or not. Let them cheer. Let them cheer their future burden. Soon enough, they'll see that they're only contributing to the tarnishing of the greatest country in the world."

Samuels sits down at his desk and slides a folder over to Fairchild.

"Get ahold of these people. They've seen what I'm trying to accomplish and they share my vision for a brighter America. This is it, we're officially on the campaign trail. The campaign to save our country, starting with the XWF. Imagine the exposure, imagine the pull... A new fan base who agree with the direction of a new America. With that that kind of clout, I could run for the White House. I could be the most powerful man in America. And then, oh boy... And then we'll rid ourselves of all these undesirables. And being my first stepping stone, I'll make sure JC Styles has the privilege of being the first roadblock torn down on the path to the future."

"Yes, sir."

The camera pans out as Fairchild thumbs through the folder, Samuels sits back and kicks his feet up on the desk.

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Campaign trail
Author	Message