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Xavier Swann · **11-30-2014, 10:40 PM**

As the scene opens, we see a white modular leather lounge, 80” television set posted high on the wall opposite. A low, glass coffee table separates the two, sitting neatly on the luscious black carpet. There's a couple of tropical plants in the corners of the room and even a water feature on one of the walls, surrounded by framed canvas prints of the man who surely calls this place home. Sure enough, as the camera swings around the room to reveal a balcony outside, we see a man kicked back on a white beach lounger soaking up some rays. The camera begins to move closer, and we can hear muffled sounds coming from outside. Upon reaching the door, we see that the man is, in fact, Xavier Swann. He appears to be on the phone, and as we see the outstretched hand of our camera man grab at the door and slide it open, we begin to get clear audio for the first time.

Xavier Swann: “What do you mean it's not done?! I told you shaft-jockeys three days ago that I needed somebody! I could have been shot dead in a drive-by a thousand times by now! They could be calling me the Notorious R.O.P! ..[ pause ].. Nobody suitable?! Dammit man, what kind of security firm are you?! ..[ pause ].. Listen cowboy, I don't think you understand my situation. I've got some fried chicken loving terrorist after me and I need protection! Now! Send me your best guy, I'll pay you triple what he's worth.. just get him here now! ..[ pause ].. Fine!”

Swann is laying there in a pair of black shorts, obviously not wearing a shirt so as to draw as many rays from the sun as possible. Even hidden behind those aviators, you can tell that he is pissed off and frustrated. He starts mumbling “god damn stupid pencil-pushing pin dicks... do it myself.” as he scrolls through the phone book on his phone. We see, over his left shoulder, an entry named 'Ian Schmyter' with the tag 'Agent' underneath it. He put his phone on speaker and rests it on the table next to him. While it is ringing, we hear Xavier cry out.

Xavier Swann: “SARAH! Where's my god damn macchiato?!”

The camera swivels around to reveal a stunning blonde standing behind the counter in the kitchen, dressed in a charcoal skirt suit...

...unfortunately the camera shot switches straight back to Xavier Swann as we hear Ian Schmyter answer the phone.

Ian Schmyter: “Therrrre he is, my favourite client! How's my perfect one doing today?”

Xavier Swann: “I'm not happy, Ian! You are supposed to be my agent! Why don't I have security yet?! Have you seen this TJ Bin Laden guy I'm facing at Madness? I just know he's going to try and 'pop a cap in my ass' any minute! WHY HAVE YOU DONE NOTHING?!”

Ian Schmyter: “Heyyy, hey, relax. I got you on this one Xavier, I promise. I'm sorry things didn't work out with the last company, but I found you a replacement. He'll be at your place within the hour, okay? So, stress less my friend!”

Xavier Swann: “Is he good?”

Ian Schmyter: “The best.”

Swann pauses for a moment, considering this news. He strokes his jawline thoughtfully as he responds

Xavier Swann: “What are his qua... hold on.”

The abrupt stop is caused by Sarah making her way onto the balcony with a cup in one hand and a clip board in the other. She smiles brightly as she sets the cup down on the table next to Xavier.

Sarah Myers: “There you go, Mr. Swann. Caramel Macchiato, Venti, Skim, Extra Shot, Extra-Hot, Extra-Whip, Sugar-Free.”

Xavier Swann: “Ahhh Sarah, you're a gem. Thank you.”

Xavier smiles at Sarah before picking up the cup. He starts talking on the phone again.

Xavier Swann: “Now Ian, as I was saying...”

He takes a sip of his macchiato, before screwing his face up and instantly spitting it out, spraying it all over Sarah's jacket.

Xavier Swann: “Good god woman, are you trying to burn my tongue off?! I told you, 67 degrees! Here, take this and start again!”

Sarah Myers: “Perhaps if you'd just let it cool d...”

Xavier Swann: “I said start again!”

Sarah rolls her eyes and snatches the cup away from Xavier, before rounding on the spot and heading back inside.

Xavier Swann: “...and don't roll your eyes at me! [ back on the phone ] Honestly, how hard is it to find a decent personal assistant these days? Now anyway, back to the task at hand. My personal security. How qualified is this individual?”

Ian Schmyter: “Well, I'm still waiting on them to send through the full profile, but they assure me he is of the highest calibre.”

Xavier Swann: “That's what you told me about that hooker in Thailand!”

Ian Schmyter: “Hey, come on! Even you thought that dude was a chick!”

Xavier Swann: “Yeah, well at least I found out otherwise before anything happened.”

Ian Schmyter: “Oh, come on Xavier, we both know you had sex with her.. him.. it.”

Xavier Swann: “Did not.”

Ian Schmyter: “Did too.”

Xavier Swann: “Did not!”

Ian Schmyter: “Did too!”

Xavier Swann: “Did not!”

Ian Schymter: “Did NOT!”

Xavier Swann: “Did TOO! [ there's a pause where Ian can be heard laughing. ] HEY! Well, at least I didn't pay for it!”

Ian Schmyter: “Not unless you count genital warts as a form of currency. Haha. Listen, I promise you this guy is legit. Trust me. Look, I gotta' meet my 10:45, I'll be in touch real soon, we'll do lunch. Hey.. Stay perfect.”

Before Xavier can even respond, Ian hangs up the phone. Swann still appears to be in a bad mood as he slams his phone down on the table beside him. He picks up a magazine from the table and drops it, fumbling for a moment, he picks it back up and starts to read but realises it is upside down.

Xavier Swann: “AAAARRGGHH!!”

Xavier attempts to toss the magazine off the balcony but it doesn't quite make the distance. He lies back on the chair, looking up at the pale blue sky overhead, breathing heavily and thinking about what an awful morning it's been. Nobody as perfect as he should have to deal with such nonsense, he thought. Just then, Sarah re-appeared outside with a fresh macchiato. She holds it out for Xavier to take. He reaches out, but stops just before he grabs it.

Xavier Swann: “You first.”

Sarah Myers: “What?”

Xavier Swann: “You drink it first so I know that it's not too hot.”

Sarah Myers: “.....really?”

Xavier folds his arms and looks at her expectantly. Sarah sighs, then takes a small sip. She throws Swann a fake, mocking smile, which he doesn't notice. Instead, he finally manages a genuine smile of his own as he retrieves the macchiato from her grasp. He takes a mouthful and let's out a loud “aaahhhh”, showing his satisfaction. He smiles at Sarah again.

Xavier Swann: “Much better, thank you. Now, how's my dry cleaning going? And did you make my appointment at the salon?”

Sarah looks down at her clipboard and flips through a couple of pages.

Sarah Myers: “I've already picked your dry cleaning up this morning. I called Carmella at the salon, she said she can fit you in Tuesday afternoon at 1pm. Oh, and don't forget, you've got that interview with Steve Sayors this afternoon..”

Xavier whips his sunglasses off and looks at Sarah with shock horror written all over his face.

Xavier Swann: “Are you kidding me?! Where?! You know I promised to take Muffin for walkies!”

Xavier turns to his right, and the camera follows his gaze. Laying in the sun, paws up in the air, is a black and white Maltese Shih-Tzu with a sapphire blue bow in it's hair. Next to it is a silver bowl with the name “Muffin” written on it.

Sarah Myers: “Look Mr. Swann, I'm sorry, but it's in your contract. You are obligated to give these interviews. However, I did manage to persuade Steve Sayors to come here for the interview at 2pm, so that should leave you with plenty of time to walk... Muffin.”

Xavier Swann climbs off the chair and takes another drink from his cup as he stares out over the balcony. He starts nodding as he turns back around to face Sarah.

Xavier Swann: “Okay. Okay, I can live with that.”

He puts the cup down and walks over to the Shih-Tzu, picking it up and cradling it. It barely moves, though it's heavy breathing can be heard quite easily through the audio. Unfortunately, so can Xavier Swann's voice. You know that ridiculous tone somebody adopts when they talk to animals or babies? Yeah, he had it.

Xavier Swann: “As long as my little Muffikins gets her walk! Do you want walkies? Yesh you do! Ah-yesh you do! Who's a gorgeous girl? You are!”

Sarah looks a little creeped out as she stands there, clipboard in one hand and the other placed firmly on her hip. She seems almost transfixed as she stares at the scene unfolding before her. She is snapped out of her fixation, as is Xavier Swann, by several loud banging noises coming from the hallway. They both look at each other, then over towards the door.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Xavier Swann: “It's Wallace! I knew that thug was going to try and come after me before our match! Quick, you answer the door, distract him.”

Sarah Myers: “Wait, what..”

Before Sarah can utter another word, Xavier thrusts Muffin into her arms and ushers her through the door. Once she is inside, he slides the door shut behind her and stacks the chairs and table behind it. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. Sarah is now at the door, she turns around and sees Xavier with one leg over the balcony railing, awkwardly trying to escape. She giggles to herself as she turns back to open the door. Grabbing the handle, she twists it and pulls it open. A fat, grotesque, balding man stumbles through the door and face-plants at the feet of Sarah, who looks down at him in disgust. Xavier peers over the edge of the balcony and, realising that it's not Wallace, pulls himself back over the railing. He removes all the clutter from in front of the balcony door and steps into the living room. He also looks repulsed as the large man drags himself to his feet, puffing and panting. He is wearing black slacks and shoes and has a tiny t-shirt on that doesn't even reach down to his belly button.

Xavier Swann: “Who in the name of Pest's giant green dildo are you?”

The fat man huffs and puffs, but tries to force a smile, his toothless grin repulsing the others more than ever.

????: “I'um.. scurity.. Stan.”

Xavier looks across at Sarah, who merely shrugs.

Xavier Swann: “The hell do you mean you are security? My security?! What happened to the best your company had to offer? And why the hell are you so puffed out?”

Stan is doubled over, hands on knees, still breathing heavily. He draws himself up to a vertical, rotund base.

Stan: “B'cos.. [puff] ..m'unfit”

Xavier Swann: “You're damn right you're unfit! Good god man, you're a slob! Are you sure you didn't eat my real personal security?!”

Stan: “N.. no sir. Wurk fer m'self.”

Xavier stands there with his hands on his hips, staring at Stan with narrowed eyes. He throws his hands into the air and let's out an exasperated sigh.

Xavier Swann: “Oh, well this is just perfect! How in the HELL are you going to protect my from the likes of Osama Bin Wallace and Frosty the Snowman?”

Stan: “I'um stronger.. [puff].. then'uhlook”

Xavier turns to Sarah

Xavier Swann: “This is unbelievable. Sarah, get me Ian on the phone and find me a damn translator for this filth! We need to straighten this out. Until then, just stick around here and do nothing, Stan. If nothing else, you might be able to take a beating while I make an escape.”

Stan smiles his toothless grin and nods vigorously. His eyes drift over towards the kitchen. Swann notices where his glance is headed and slaps him across the face.

Xavier Swann: “Hey! No more food! If I do get stuck with you, I'm going to have to whip you into some kind of shape! In fact, start doing some crunches. Now.”

Stan just stares blankly at Swann, having no clue what the hell crunches are. Xavier throws his head back and slaps his forehead. He proceeds to show Stan how to do the excersize correctly, though Stan merely looks like a turtle stuck on its back, legs and arms flailing around wildly. Xavier turns to Sarah, who has just gotten off the phone.

Sarah Myers: “Ian has left his office for the day and his cell is switched off.”

Xavier Swann: “Perfect. Just, perfect. Keep an eye on Baby Huey over here, I'm going to go and get changed for this interview. For Christ’s sake, don't let him anywhere near the kitchen. Mind you, I don't expect he'll even be able to get off the floor any time soon.”

Stan has given up even flailing his arms and legs any more, and in stead is just laying on the carpet like a beached whale. Xavier storms off to his bedroom and slams the door behind him. Sarah sits on the couch, still holding Muffin, and stares down at the lifeless form of Stan as the scene fades to black.

+ LATER THAT DAY +

As we return, Xavier Swann is now looking far more stylish in a three-piece charcoal suit, complete with black tie. He sits in the middle of his white leather sofa, flanked by Sarah Myers and his new personal security guard, Stan. Xavier seems to have calmed down considerably, perhaps only for the cameras, as his brash and cocky swagger is ever-apparent once more. Steve Sayors, the XWF's lead interviewer, sits opposite them. Xavier leans back and pulls his right ankle up to rest comfortably across his left knee as Sayors begins the interview.

Steve Sayors: “Xavier Swann, thank you so much for taking the time to join us here today, I know the XWF universe is extremely keen to finally hear from you.”

Xavier Swann: “Steven, please. The honour is all yours, I can assure you.”

Steve Sayors: “Right. Well, first things first. Why don't you tell everyone in the XWF a little bit about Xavier Swann and your.. err..”

Xavier Swann: “My what? Entourage? Well, this handsome young fellow on my left is my personal head of security, Stan. Don't be fooled by his enormous size, this man is quicker than a Tyroil Smoochie-Wallace career. Of course, then we have my absolutely stunning personal assistant, Sarah Myers. Naturally she is as close to perfection as a woman could get, I would have nothing less, of course. As for myself? Well, Steven, I am the man who is about to chance the face of the XWF. You can't have a cake without icing, and the XWF has been dry and flavourless for a long time. I am here to usher in a new era of REAL entertainment. I'm finally going to give all those unemployed, fat slobs sitting at home a reason to drag their pimple-filled asses out of their chairs and grab the remote, just so they can catch a glimpse of what real perfection looks like. It's a new day for the XWF, the greatest in it's long history. Finally there is a man capable of elevating the status of this company to heights before thought unreachable. One step at a time, I am going straight to the top, bab-eh!”

Sayors frowns. Swann notices Stan smiling with his goofy, toothless grin beside him and slaps him hard across the chest. Stan instantly puts his head down and stares into his lap.

Steve Sayors: “All due respect, Xavier...”

Xavier Swann: “Mr. Swann is fine.”

Sayors sighs.

Steve Sayors: “With all due respect, Mr. Swann, most would argue that the XWF has a plethora of talent already doing what you are claiming to...”

Xavier Swann: “A plethora of talent?! Have you been walking around with your eyes closed and socks stuffed into your ears for the past however many years this place has been around? It's time to wake up, shaft-jockey! This place has been overrun with over-achievers and talentless hacks from the get-go. The only reason these people are stupid enough to spend their hard-earned money to watch the likes of Jet Frost and that terrorist gangster, TJ Wallace, is because they don't know any better. I'm going to change all of that. I'm going to change the way these people view the “stars” they pay to see. They will adore me and hate me at the same time, for as much as I show them what true perfection really is, I will show them just how far below the pay grade the rest of the roster has always been. I'm going to ruin their illusion, but at the same time, I will give them something they have never.. ever.. seen before.”

Steve Sayors: “Speaking of Frost and Wallace, you will team up with Aerial Knight tomorrow night on Monday Madness for your XWF debut to take on those two men. Now, you and Frost have already exchanged words, but it seems as though you might be a little intimidated by TJ Wallace?”

Swann scoffs, and looks over at Sarah, who just smiles at him.

Xavier Swann: “Let's get one thing straight Sayors, I hold no fear for Wallace, but I'll start with Frosty. I listened to what he had to say the other day.. well, Sarah did. I got her to write it down and translate what he was saying into English so that I could actually grasp what the concept was. Here's the thing about Jet Frost.. he is so far beneath the Sultan of Style that I wouldn't let him clean my boots with your hands. This guy has the audacity to mention me in the same breath as Maverick? I don't even know who the hell Maverick is. As far as I can tell, he was another boot-scrubber claiming to be something that he clearly is not. Frosty made a huge mistake in drawing that comparison, because unlike every other shaft-jockey in this damn federation, I am everything I claim to be and more. The “Reflection of Perfection” isn't some cute name I got off of the back of a Weeties box, it's the harsh reality for the rest of the world. Look at me.. look at this chiselled jaw-line.. this immaculate hair. I'm what God had in mind when he created mankind, it just took him a few thousand years to finally get it right.

Jet Frost is simply trying to use me to get noticed. I don't blame you Frosty, for some people the only way to find yourself in the spotlight is to share someone else's, if only for a little while. You'll get your chance at Madness, but it will be about as brief as my attention span when listening to you talk.. which isn't very long, trust me. I'm amused by your confidence, false though it may be. Your complete lack of comprehension for what you are about to embark upon is most entertaining. I'm going to take great pleasure in dissecting you inside that ring. When I'm finished with you, maybe you'll think twice before you stick your nose in my business.”

Steve Sayors: “And TJ Wallace?”

Xavier Swann: “Whoa, whoa, whoa.. hold on there, slappy. Before I get onto Osama, I have a message for my... partner. Look, Aerial.. Jonathan.. whatever I'm supposed to call you. I don't need your help at Madness. I didn't ask for it. The fact of the matter is though, you and I will find ourselves in one corner, with those two goose-ticklers in the other. Feel privileged that you should be the one who will get to share in the victors spoils with yours truly. I can say from the bottom of my heart, that this will be the defining moment of your XWF career. When the bell rings, and the referee raises my hand in victory, I shall leave you precisely one eighth of my spotlight to shower yourself in glory the likes of which you will never know again. I am truly happy for you Knight, and I assure you, this will be as close to perfection as you could ever hope to get.

Now. Tee.. Jay.. Bin Laden. You know, you may think I'm afraid of you.. going out, hiring personal security and all.. but, I'm not. No, inside that ring, there is only one true juggernaut.. and his name, is Xavier Swann! I'm not one who appreciates being disturbed in my personal life, I'm a busy man, so my personal security.. Stan.. is merely around to ensure that nobody tries to take me out before the hammer strikes at Madness. I wouldn't blame you for trying Osama.. hell, it's the only chance you've got! But it's not going to happen. You want to know why I have been quiet all week? Do you really think it was because I found out I had a match against you and the snowman and started running scared?”

Xavier laughs heartily and slaps his knee.

Xavier Swann: “Don't flatter yourself. You might look like the offspring of Ice Cube and Osama Bin Laden, only twice as ugly as both, but you certainly don't intimidate me. You play date with Frosty was really cute though, and that punch to the balls? Priceless! I haven't seen that one since third grade! Though, I'm guessing you didn't even make it that far with your education, as was apparent after listening to you speak. All this talk about rape and some hobbit fucking me was slightly disturbing though, but those are clearly your issues pal, not mine. If all you think about in your spare time is the sexual exploits of a hairy-toed gremlin and you wish to watch him penetrate another individual of the male variety, then that's your life choice, but I promise you that I won't be a part of your sick fantasy.

You know what else I found amusing? The fact that you actually stated that you would beat me to within an inch of my life. I'm sure the only other time you have used the words “beat” and “inch” in the same sentence before, you were talking about your penis. Tomorrow night at Madness, you're going to get just a taste of what Xavier Swann is all about, and yes, my claim to perfection will still stand. You're nothing more than a wannabe thug, trying to make a name for himself through shock value. I don't need to talk about raping anyone, or jerking off to Rosie O'Donell. I am Perfection Personified, and at Madness I will ensure that you and your partner receive the best of send off's as they carry your lifeless bodies from ringside. Believe me, Osama.. Frost.. your Swann Song will be utterly... perfect.”

Swann looks at Sayors, who appears as though he is about to speak, but is cut off.

Xavier Swann: “This interview is officially over. I'm done with the games. You wanted a war of words? Well, these battles are a lot like a game of chess. You made all your moves early, but in the end, I took the king. You can follow the result on Twitter, you know it'll be trending..”

#checkmate

And with that, Xavier Swann gets to his feet and tell Stan to remove Sayors and the camera man from his room. With great difficulty and much waddling, Stan is eventually able to clear the room.

Fade to black.

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