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Centurion · (05-12-2021)

------FLASHBACK: June 12th, 2008------

(Over the past month and a half, the Centurion Casino & Hotel has lost close to a hundred million dollars on the casino floor. A loss in general is unusual, but a loss that big, especially during peak tourism season, is unheard of. After investigating and digging further into the situation, the team of Centurion, the owner of the business, and Walter Crowe, the CEO of the company, may have found the culprit – a British man known only as Mr. Blue. The man has been on an incredible win streak, and it’s pretty clear by watching his movements and his mannerisms that this was no accident. Here is the problem:

Mr. Blue did not act alone.

Centurion and Walter, however, have no evidence to support any of this, so they are going to need the young bloke to give up his sources if they have any chance at flushing this out.

We open up outside a meeting room in the basement of the Centurion Casino & Hotel. There, we see the young British man, with a short haircut and glasses, known at Mr. Blue, sitting inside the meeting room. Standing outside the door are Centurion and Walter. Mr. Blue seems incredibly calm, but Centurion is frazzled as he glances in at the man.)

Centurion: We need to get something out of him.

Walter: Specifically, we need to get the names of those on the inside that he was working with. He obviously has been tipped off by dealers and pit bosses. No one wins that amount of money on pure luck, and we went over the videos – he never touched any cards, and the dice were completely legit. The only way he could go on that kind of run is if he was given an advantage. If we can find just one of the dealers, we can bring the whole network down. Here’s the problem, though – this guy is incredibly smart, and he doesn’t seem nervous in the slightest.

Centurion: I have an idea.

(Centurion reaches into his jacket and lifts up a ballpeen hammer, and shows it off to Walter.)

Centurion: I’ll start with his fingers. If that doesn’t work, we’ll go to his toes.

Walter: What? Are you insane!

(Walter grabs the hammer out of Centurion’s hands.)

Walter: This isn’t the 1960’s! You can’t just pummel someone. That dude knows what he’s doing. You lay a finger on him, and he’ll own this entire casino by sundown.

Centurion: Well then, what do you want to do? If there’s no threat of physical violence, then he’s not going to talk! He has no incentive to. He knows the laws. He technically didn’t do anything illegal...

Walter: That we know of.

Centurion: He didn’t run into the vault and steal all of our money. More than likely, he and some friends counted cards, and swapped tables over and over again in order to keep the scent off. What are we going to say to him? “Give up the names of your insiders and we won’t ban you?” Like he cares now.

Walter: We don’t know what he cares about, or where his loyalties lie. These could just be paid hands for him. We pay him off, and he’s very likely to give up the names. All he cares about is money.

Centurion: So your answer to going after someone who took our money is to...give them more money?

Walter: You have a better idea?

Centurion: Yes! The hammer!

Walter: You have a better idea that won’t land us in federal prison?

(Centurion grimaces and let’s out a light “shit” as he shakes his head. Walter tosses the hammer onto a table next to him before gesturing to the meeting room. Centurion opens the door to the meeting room and the two of them walk in. Mr. Blue continues to sit in his chair, and politely greets the two men.)

Blue: Good afternoon, gentlemen. Have a nice chat, did we?

Centurion: We sure did. Talked about you, actually.

Blue: All good things, I hope.

Centurion: Nope.

(Centurion walks over to the other side of the table and sits down, face to face with Mr. Blue. Walter stands next to him with his arms crossed. Mr. Blue looks at Centurion, then up at Walter, and smiles.)

Blue: Shouldn’t this dynamic be changed. I figured the wrestler would be the one standing and looking intimidating, not the lawyer.

Walter: We know you don’t fear physical threats, but the threat to your money and a threat of jail time? Well, that has you sweating, I can already tell.

Blue: No, I am sweating because you have one of the worst air conditioning systems in Atlantic City. I do really hope your business sense is better than your ability to read people, because if it isn’t, then you two won’t last another year.

Centurion: Funny guy. Look, Walter, the man has jokes.

Blue: I’m sorry, but I am not a comedian. If you are searching for jokes, I suggest going back and watching some of your wrestling matches.

(Centurion’s serious glance turns into one of anger. He appears ready to jump over the table and slam the man into the ground, but Walter places his hand on his shoulder to make sure that does not happen.)

Blue: Yes, hold on to your puppy, Mr. Crowe. I’d hate for this conversation to become unpleasant.

Walter: Alright, here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to write you a check – a very BIG check. And when I do, you’re going to give me the names of the folks you were working with. You walk out of here with all your money, and I don’t have to bring your name up to the magistrate. How does that sound?

(Mr. Blue let’s out a “hmm” while he scratches his chin. He looks over at Walter, then back over at Centurion, before responding.)

Blue: If you’re going to make idle threats, make sure you don’t so it against someone smarter than you. If you are offering to pay me off, it means you don’t have anything against me legally. All you’re doing is going on a wild goose chase. Sorry to say, folks, but I don’t have any geese to offer up to you.

Centurion: Bullshit.

Blue: I have always been a very lucky man. My parents once told me I would make it rich just off of pure luck alone. That is what happened in your casino. I apologize for taking your money...well, actually I don’t. I’m sure you will manage to survive. You’ll just have to buy a smaller yacht.

Centurion: So now you’re playing some sort of socialist hero? What you did put a lot of folks in danger. You’re clearly an asshole, and that’s fine, but there are folks working for us that rely on these profit margins, and you’re taking food out of their mouths.

Blue: Ah, so because you make ten million dollars instead of twenty this year, you’re going to cut the salaries of your employees and fire some folks? Let me ask you something, Mr. Cortinovis. Hypothetically, if what you say is true about me, and what happened here was actually your recollection of events, why do you think people would “work for me” when you’re cutting them a paycheck every week.

(Centurion arches his eyebrows as he looks up at Walter. Walter kind of shrugs as Centurion looks back at Mr. Blue.)

Centurion: I mean, I assume it’s because you offered them more money.

Blue: More money, interesting. And how much do you think it would cost for your employees to risk their jobs like that?

Centurion: Oh, I don’t know. A couple grand?

Blue: A couple grand to risk their lives and their employment for just some dude. Who does that say more about, Mr. Cortinovis? You, or me?

(Centurion’s angry face has turned into one of pure confusion, though his tone toward Mr. Blue hasn’t changed.)

Centurion: What the hell are you talking about?!

Blue: Croupier’s in New Jersey make less than minimum wage per hour. Their entire livelihood is based on tips given to them from gamblers, many of whom are angry folks who have already lost money. If you think it would be easy to pay off your employees, it’s because you don’t pay them enough.

Centurion: I’m not going to sit here and receive some sort of moral lecture from a man who scams people and businesses out of money just to make himself rich.

Blue: You do not have to listen to anything, Mr. Cortinovis. And you do not have to believe me or my side of the story; however, in order to take me to a magistrate or to even call the cops of me, you will need to provide some sort of proof that I committed a crime. If you do not have that, then you are holding me here against my will. I believe they call that “kidnapping” in most states, do they not?

(Centurion goes back to his furious face as he glances up at Walter. Walter, meanwhile, has no answers, and can just look Mr. Blue dead in the eyes. Mr. Blue smiles as he knows he has the two businessmen beat.)

Centurion: You are banned from my casino. That I CAN legally do.

Blue: That is alright. I feel as if my luck may start running a bit dry at these tables anyway. I will move on to my next location. Or are you going to call Mr. Trump and let him know that you suspect me a cheater? I’m sure a phone call between the two of you would go over REALLY well.

(Centurion lowers his head. He wants to kill this man that sits in front of him, but at the same time, the prospect of unleashing him on a competitor may be too good to pass up. Centurion sighs as he sits back in his chair with his hands over his face.)

Centurion: Just get the fuck out my casino.

(Mr. Blue smiles again as he stands up from the table. He takes his suit jacket off the back of his chair before putting it back on. He nods to Centurion and Walter as he heads toward the door.)

Blue: Gentlemen.

(Mr. Blue walks out of the room, and as soon as he does, Centurion gets up from his chair and kicks it across the room.)

Centurion: God dammit!

Walter: Take it easy. We got beat. Bad. Bad beats happen all the time. Let’s take this as an opportunity to learn and become better at this, so the next jackass who decides to scam us doesn’t get away with it.

------If I Didn’t Care, Would I Feel This Way------

How are the funeral proceedings going?

Before you ask me “Cent, what the hell are you talking about?”, just know that I know. I know what is being said about be, both backstage and among the audience, and especially among members of the “wrestling media”. They’re shoveling dirt on my career...again. They have seen my recent string of misfortunes and have decided that this must be the death march of Centurion’s career.

Please. Like I’d give any of you fuckers the satisfaction.

Yes, I am struggling right now. I’m “languishing”, as Corey so eloquently put it. The last few opportunities, I have blown, and I even lost my UGWC Cross-Hemisphere Title, an accomplishment I assumed I would just hold on to forever. So, yes, it’s been a tough road over the past few weeks.

Do you think I’m not used to failure? Do you think this is a new situation for me? I’ve lost. I’ve lost a lot. My career is filled with losses. But you know what I also have? Wins. More than anyone else. So, what does that mean?

It means no one has rebounded from the bottom of the ladder more than I have. Yes, there are other wrestlers who can claim to have never been knocked down. The only thing that ever-prevented James Raven from being champion forever was a cheating gold-digging whore and his desire to own a lingerie football team for some weird reason. The Brand ended his career undefeated – untouched by stain of failure. My, how we all long to be in that position.

For the rest of us mortals, though, failure is inevitable. It happens to everyone. Here is the difference – so many folks are so used to success that one failure can ruin them. I have seen so many wrestlers enter this business, be great, and one loss sent them spiraling out of control. That has never happened to me. My career is a rollercoaster. I hit the dip. And now?

Now it’s time for another climb, and that starts with taking out two of the golden children in the XWF. In one corner, we have Marf, someone who catapulted his way up the rankings and made a name for himself almost instantly. He was set to become an icon...but a little roadblock by the name of Andre Dixon prevented that from happening. Still, he’s great. Everyone agrees that he’s great.

And in the other corner, we have Atara Themis, the “better Themis”, who has been given opportunity after opportunity in this company and has very little to show for it. I was tossed into this match, but make no mistake about it – the higher ups of the XWF do not expect me to win. Far from it, actually. They are expecting me to take the pinfall for one of their golden calves, so they can go on and claim to have a pinfall over a legend while the other one doesn’t lose any momentum heading into Leap of Faith. I’ve been around the business for a little bit. I know what’s going on here.

In fact, if I had to guess, I would say Vinnie, Theo, and the like are secretly rooting for Atara to win. She needs it more. A win here would validate her Internet Title victory. It would give her more shine as she heads into the pay per view to defend her belt. Marf, meanwhile, has a tag title match no matter what, so he doesn’t really need the win on his resume.

Boy, what a shame it would be for me to come swooping in and ruin that narrative, wouldn’t it?

After weeks – hell, after MONTHS – of being buried by the roster, here I enter into a match with two of the biggest rising stars in the company. A loss to me would be absolutely devastating, wouldn’t it? At least, that’s the way everyone has hyped this up to be. I’m apparently SO bad, so INCAPABLE of being a good wrestler that anyone who loses to me just gets sent to the bottom of the card.

Atara, Marf...I hope someone has cushions ready for you down there.

I don't know what the future holds for you, Marf. I know everyone is quick to call you the future of the company. A lot of people expect great things from you, as if you're a future Universal Champion or something. Me? I'm not so sure about that, honestly. Your partner, Lycana? She has a massive future in front of her. She could easily be a Universal Champion in the future. You? Well, I suspect you and Lycana will likely win the tag titles, but everyone will praise her for the work she's done, and eventually she's going to chase singles gold, which is going to make you jealous, and the two of you will turn on each other before she completely leaves you behind. Sound impossible? I'm sure it does, but the amount of times this very thing has happened is remarkable, and it's really easy to predict the future when you have so much history to base if off of.

Of course, this won't happen tomorrow. It may not even happen this year. But when it does happen, this little speech of mine will be in the back of your mind. And you'll curse my name, which is fine. I've been cursed before.

And then...we have Atty. My oh my, how things have changed, eh Atara? At one point, you were the talk of the world. You were the up and coming superstar who was GUARENTEED to be a main eventer. War Games captain. X-Treme Champion. You had so much going for you. Then what happened?

Well, then you faced Shawn Warstein in the March Madness Tournament, and everything went to shit from there.

Yes, yes, I know, you took the Internet Title off of Dean Rose. How impressive. The dude can't even tie his own shoes, but hey, a win is a win.

Instead of just approaching your match with Shawn as an opportunity to see where your skills are, you took it personally. You went insane. And when he put you down, you decided to join BoB and become just another face in the crowd. I don't know why it was so easy for you to just walk away like you did. Maybe Shawn's a bit lacking in the sack? Or maybe you've always been a crazy bitch with a massive ego? I'll let the crowd make that decision on their own.

On Sunday, your BoB team mates will be sitting in the back, rooting hard for you to win. And they're going to feel good about your chances. They're already going to have the champagne on ice, ready to celebrate as they hit me with yet another loss. Then, you're going to hit the mat. And the referee is going to count to three. And they won't know what to do, except start to cry, because that is the moment they'll know that I've woken up. My path towards redemption begins with you, Atty. Then, I will move on to Leap of Faith, where I shut your sister up once and for all.

Speaking of which, say hi to Osira for me. Tell her you're sorry in advance, because all you're going to end up doing is making me stronger, and a stronger Centurion is a nightmare for Osira. Θα σε δώ το Σαββάτο. To say I'm looking forward to this is an understatement. But I'm sure you'll have some snarky post for Twitter that you're going to put up that night. And it'll be a sibtweet, because God forbid you speak directly to anyone.

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