Threaded Mode | Linear Mode

Thomas Nixon · (02-04-2017)

For the last few weeks, I’ve had a lot on my plate. A lot of events and emotions coinciding. As Trump’s inauguration occurred, my place in the world has changed. My grand mission has gotten a whole lot easier with this new leader in charge.

As a result, I’ve had to do some behind the scenes work. I have made some sacrifices that are hard to make, especially as an athlete in the XWF. As everyone is looking for their opportunity to break through the glass ceiling, people have set their eyes on an extravaganza on the horizon. Lethal Lottery.

An event that thirty two wrestlers are competing in; the winners earn bragging rights and recognition from the fans as well as management. An opportunity that would do wonders for my revolution.

But alas, the timing was not meant to be. As XWF management pressured me to compete in this tournament, I’ve had to hold my ground. I wish I could compete and have another chance to breakout in the XWF world, but I have more important things to attend to. And I must say, few things are more important than the opportunity that Lethal Lottery bring.

While I may be criticized for not wrestling at every XWF event, I have to pick my spots and act strategically. I have people to meet with, authorities to speak to, and old friends to visit.

In the end, there is one true goal. It’s not winning the Lethal Lottery tournament, not regaining the television championship, and it is not ending McBride’s career. First and foremost, I must liberate the lizard people.

* * *

Silence. The phone rings twice, before a muffled voice answers the call.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Mr. Vice President.”

“Who is this speaking? I typically don’t answer the phone from people I don’t personally or professionally know, but an old friend of mine requested, well demanded, that I take your call.”

“This is Thomas Nixon, and I would like to talk to you about an important issue. Your response and decision will impact the course of world history.”

* * *

Paul Singer’s mansion in Aspen, Colarado is truly a sight to behold. The luxury of the building would be incomprehensible for many people that live in Nixon’s hometown of Philadelphia. The sprawling building is much larger than any individual could possibly need, but wealth can fulfill any and all of a person’s desires.

A limo arrives in the long driveway of the estate, and Thomas Nixon exits from the back of the vehicle. As he walks to the front door, hedge fund manager and business expert, Paul Singer, opens the door. A big smile is spread across his face. Instead of the professional handshake of a businessman, Singer lunges forward and gives his friend a hug.

“Thomas! It’s great to see you!” Singer exclaims with pure joy embedded in his face.

Nixon follows Singer into the mansion, admiring the luxury of the interior design. Nixon and his host settle themselves in an elegant living room, the same room where they met a few months before Nixon debuted in the XWF.

“I’m glad to talk with you, Paul. The last couple months have been hell. I’ve been paranoid about my phones being tapped or getting the front door kicked down by the CIA.” Nixon’s relief is clear.

“Yes, the silence was painful. There was a lot of speculation among our group. We were excited to watch your reign as champion, but we were worried when we saw you lose the belt. It was a crushing moment for our community. We didn’t just see a friend lose, we saw hope evaporate in front of our eyes. Luckily, we were wrong. You still are a fan favorite, and you’re right back in the title picture!” Singer says excitedly. At this point, Singer has transformed to his true form. The blinds are shut, and Nixon paid no attention to his ally’s physical change into a reptilian creature.

“The weight of the lizard community’s fate is heavy, but I’ve been able to hold strong. Now, it looks like we can start moving forward, and soon my worries will be over.”

“And that’s why you’re here. I have some advice and some thoughts. Whether you agree with me or not, I want you to understand how we’re feeling as a group.” Singer, known as Semiazas in his lizard form, had a dramatic shift in tone with these words. He seems much more serious, more focused. He no longer is in the celebratory stage, it’s on to the next step.

“Go ahead. I’m fond of criticism.”

“We’ll see. Let me preface this by saying that we were all quite distraught after watching Michael McBride viciously slam you though a table. We were worried about your well-being. That was our main concern. You have been a loyal accomplice to our people, and we are also invested in your success.” Semiazas hunches over, staring at Nixon with his sharp, glimmering eyes.

“Now, we are worried about your mental state.”

“What?!” Nixon responds with a look of confusion. “I’m not crazy, that’s pretty clear.”

“You are sane. But I’m worried that you have lost focus.”

“What the hell do you mean?”

“When you joined the XWF, you had one goal. A clear goal that has defined every action you’ve taken. Your motivation has been defined by the status that comes with winning championships and main eventing shows. With that prestige and support, it will make you a valuable asset when you bring us into the spotlight. This is all compromised by your disdain for Michael McBride.”

“I’ve known you for a long time, but you couldn’t be more wrong.” Nixon sits up from his chair and turns away from his counterpart. At first, he begins to storm out of the building. Instead, he rests a hand on the wall, bringing the other to his face, holding his head as he grimaces.

“The best thing for our people is for you to look directly in front of you. Put all of your efforts against Jim Caedus. Bring the belt home, and use that as an opportunity to introduce our kind to the world! It’s the right thing to do! That’s what matters!

Do you understand the risk you’re putting us at?

If you can’t win the championship, we may have to hold off our plans and initiatives. And then what? You settle your feud with McBride? You risk injury in a violent match?

If you’re put on the shelf for months, that could destroy our oppurtunity to emerge into the public eye. Don’t you understand?!”

Semiazas takes a deep breath, as he tries to compose himself. Nixon turns to his friend, conflicted.

“I know that. I fucking know that. Don’t you realize that those are the thoughts that are constantly on my mind?!” Nixon lashes back. “You make it sound so simply. You make it sound like there isn’t already risk. Caedus isn’t a win I’m taking for granted, and I understand the repercussions if I lose. Telling me this shit doesn’t help. Simple words don’t fix the conflict.

And you’re missing a very crucial fact.”

“And what is that?”

“Not only do I need some sort of prestige, I need to be popular. I need to be a positive, well liked figure.” Nixon says slowly, attempting to come down from his adrenaline high.

“Of course.”

“People, especially wrestling fans, don’t typically like cowards.

Since I’ve been in the XWF, I’ve seen some cowardly shit. Scully avoiding title defenses got him an immense amount of shit from the fans. He backed down from challenges, and he avoided competition left and right.”

“What does that have to do with you?”

“I have to pursue McBride. He jumped me from behind, and it was fucking pathetic. He was nearly booed at of the building for pulling that shit. Not only that, but I learned something about myself. I fucking hate cowards. So I’m going to do what’s in my self-interest, and it just so happens to be in yours. When I beat the tar out of that wimp, people are going to love me for it. So you should be rooting me on to schedule that match as soon as possible.”

“You don’t understand, that has a larger chance of-“

“And if I don’t challenge McBride at every turn, those fans are going to think that I’m afraid. They’re going to think I’m scared. And they’ll hate me for the same reasons they hate Scully and McBride!”

“But-“

“But if it is any conciliation, I’m going to bring the fight to Caedus. Just because McBride is my focus deep down, doesn’t mean that I’m overlooking my opponent on Saturday. Caedus made me regret my first match against him, but I guarantee you that round two will be a hell of a lot different. I learned a lot about him, and he learned a lot about me. It’s not going to be so easy for him to catch me out of place.”

Semiazas rolls with the punches, allowing the topic to change, not wanting to further upset his only hope. “He had some pretty strong thoughts. You should spend the time you have strategizing. He seemed upset.”

“I don’t give a shit if he’s mad. He can misinterpret my words, and he can think I’m underestimating him. I’m not. I know his power, and I’m cautious of it. If anything, he’s being arrogant. He’s the one foreseeing a repeat of our last match, and he thinks it is that cut and dry.

But you know what, I don’t care what he has to say. His words mean nothing. Guys like Caedus and I leave it all in the ring. That is what counts in the record books. Singer, I’m recommending that you don’t listen to his “he said, she said” nonsense. It’s nothing new, that’s all he’s done since he’s won that belt. In the end, words are nothing without action, and hearing Caedus’ words don’t do me any good. I hope he gets all the shit talking out of his system because I won’t be paying it one iota of attention.”

“Well, Tom, you got kind of heated there. I’m glad you didn’t just leave because we have an important topic that we haven’t gone over. How exactly are we going to introduce our species to the world?”

The scene fades out, as Thomas takes his seat back at the coffee table. It’s time to plan for history.

* * *
“I do recall working close with some of your people during my time in the Agricultural Committee. Excuse my use of the phrase “your people”, I don’t want to be overheard.”

“I understand, Mr. Pence. Now that you’ve been refreshed and briefed of the situation, I have a request.”

“Now, Mr. Nixon-“

“Listen to my demands first. I don’t want to hear a political nothing statement.”

Nixon pauses, Mike says nothing but remains on the line.

“My people are very rich. Very rich people that have donated a lot to your campaign, and a lot of your party’s many congressional campaigns. If you would like to receive funding for yourself and your allies, I need you to cooperate.

When we reveal the existence of the lizard people to the world, we need you to be on our side. We need the White House to administer the statements that we send in. We don’t want you actively campaigning for our rights, but we need a helping hand that will not exercise harsh penalties against my reptilian friends. Can I count on you to hold up that end of the deal?”

A sigh and a grumble could be heard on the other end.

“Yes,” Mike begrudgingly cedes.

“Perfect.”

The line goes dead.

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Two Conversations
Author	Message