The Story So Far...

And now… The story continues!

***

October 18th, 2021 Inside the KFC Yum! Center Louisville, KY

Flynn dashes back down the steps to the first floor…

“SHIT SHIT SHIT!”

His mind whirred, trying to formulate steps to a plan.

He had an adversary, whoever the fuck that was that was approaching NK…

He had an objective, incapacitate the adversary… And prevent NK’s death.

...If time allowed.

Because objective A was based on getting there in time, which was a whole other set of steps…

“FUCK!” Flynn hated planning while running. Multi-tasking had been proven by numerous scientific studies to be vulnerable to inefficiency and non-optimal work output.

Flynn could work on the fly. He just wasn’t his best without having three weeks to plan.

“FUCKING FUCK.”

And Flynn despised the idea of not being at his best.

Flynn reached the bottom of the steps. It had taken him 46 seconds, he’d estimated.

“FUCK.”

He busted through the door, the one that led him down this route, with the XWF placard on the door.

Flynn sprints back up the hall he came down.

...If he cuts back down the left hell, the one that he and NK split off at when they first came in, he’d be at the entrance ramp in 24 seconds…

Flynn instead cuts to the left, upways. If KFC Yum! Center is anything like the other arenas, it’ll have a ring crew route for moving equipment...

Flynn gets a couple dozen feet down the hallway, before he sees a sign that says ‘STAFF ONLY’. That’s the ticket.

Flynn barrels through the push door… This route should shave a couple seconds…

As Flynn approaches through a dark hallway, past electrical equipment… He starts thinking about how he can climb the side of the ramp quickly… The last challenge before he’s on stage…

He’s spent 70 seconds trying to get down here… NK could have died three times in that interim. Fuck.

“FUCK.”

Fuck.

Flynn is finally in the arena, he looks up and sees thousands of frozen wrestling fans… Fuckin’ no time to think about that... now…

…

…

Wait.

…

Is that…



Fucking KISS?

Flynn slows down to silence his footsteps and creeps along the side of the ramp. The music gets louder…

He climbs a little ladder embedded into the side…

And he sees, just as his head raises over the lip of the ramp…

Sitting in a steel folding chair, a woman with short brown hair, in a blue full-body tracksuit smiling, her hands pressed together, elbows resting on her knees.

As NK… thrusts with his entire body. From his knees, to his hips, perfect, fluid control as every muscle ripples..

Beside him is a BoomBox blaring KISS's ‘I Was Made For Loving You’...

NK’s hands sensually go down his chest, to his thighs and back up his chest…

Flynn is… perplexed.

He steps onto the ramp and drops prone… He crawls over, attempting to stay out of view of the woman in the chair.

He creeps along the side of the entrance curtain, now only a few feet behind the woman… NK is shimmying his shoulders in a way that perfectly alternates and complements his hip motions…

Flynn waves his arms quietly to try and get NK’s attention.

NK makes eye contact with Flynn, but this does nothing to affect his performance.

“Is he with you?”

Flynn snaps to attention, startled.

“Uh… Yeah.”

“Okay.”

The woman doesn’t turn around, or spare a moment of focus away from the Korean’s evocative dance.

“There’s a chair back there if you want to sit down.”

Flynn…

…

Stands up out his crawl. And grabs a chair and unfolds it. He tries to casually side-eye this… adversary?... as he takes a seat next to her.

She’s thin, her expressions are minimal, though she does have the subtlest of smiles as she watches this display. Flynn can’t see the right side of her face at all, because while she has vocally addressed him, she has not taken her eyes for a moment off of NK’s dance.

NK is clapping to the beat of the song. In perfect synchronization, when Paul Stanley says ‘I was made’, NK points at his own chest. When Stanley ‘for loving you, baby’, NK points at the woman.

…

“...So… Why is this happening?”

“I asked if he’d come with me to the security area for a few questions. So he said I’ve left him no choice but to implement ‘Central Command’s Fail-Proof Techniques For Seduction’.”

NK spins and his admittedly-well-toned ass flexes and ripples as his hips rock to the song’s guitar solo…

“Huh. Okay. Is this… uh… doing anything for you?”

“Not especially. But I’m gay so…”

“Oh. Then, why di-”

“I tried to explain, but he insisted that while my sexual identity would undergo no alteration, Central Command’s techniques were beyond the attraction spectrum and that I would still find the motion of his hips mesmerizingly irresistible.”

“...Yeah, that sounds about right.”

Flynn stands up and brings his fingers across his throat.

“OKAY, MAN, LET’S WRAP IT UP.”

“Wait, let him finish.”

Flynn turns, brow scrunched in surprise.

“...What? I’m not 'mesmerized', but… He is very talented. And I haven’t seen a live show since I got posted here back in April so...”

…

Flynn shrugs.

He spins back to NK and puts his hands together, fingertips all in, then slowly elongates the distance between them.

The Universal Entertainment sign for ‘STRETCH YOUR TIME’.

NK does nothing physically to acknowledge this bit of direction.

But his right thumb does press a button concealed in his jacket’s wrist that sets his BoomBox to repeat the song…

Flynn sits back down.

Okay.

Not exactly the infiltration Flynn had in mind.

But.. Infiltration Complete.

***

XWF Headquarters

We zoom out and watch the feed from inside the KFC Yum! Center. Flynn and an employee watching a War Criminal dance provocatively, on company time.

Yet another employee infraction.

Therese’s hands typed a thousand words per second, as was advertised only semi-jokingly on her resume when she first got this internship.

The other trait she prides herself on besides her typing speed?

Her willingness to go above and beyond.

Yes, fine, she’d been the one that suggested hiring the War Criminal in the first place.

The War Criminal that had brought in Mark Flynn.

The pair of which were on camera infiltrating an XWF facility and were semi-openly investigating for malfeasance.

She was certain those dogecoin-loving rubes that each own five to five thousand shares of XWF were trying to influence Phone #1 into reducing her role.

Well, GUESS WHAT, ASSSHOLES? Therese has just spent the last hour compiling video footage from XWF cameras at the facility. PDFs of unsavory employee behavior and screenshots of NK’s deleted tweets that would get him cancelled in a heartbeat.

She had just finished zipping these files onto a thumb drive. She’d probably have to explain to the mouth breathers on the Shareholders’ Board how to handle .ZIP files but it’d be worth it…

Therese was about to solve the Flynn problem permanently.

***

Back in the conference room, Therese sat and said nothing. Left no trace of expression on her face.

As the contents of her drive flashed onto the wall from the overhead projector.

The Phone that sat in the conference room’s center was silent. But the cameras in the room…

You could hear the lens zoom for optimal focus…

Therese allowed the smallest grin to develop…

Phone #1 was intrigued.

“Most… compelling collection of media, Therese.”

This was about the closest thing she’d gotten to a compliment since all the drama started around her suggestion to hire the War Criminal.

“Thank you,sir.”

“How quickly can we… escalate this media…”

“To HR? I have the forms pre-drafted to terminate Flynn and the War Criminal. As well as a press release so severe in its language, it’ll blackball both from the larger wrestling world. They’ll be… thoroughly handled, sir.”

“…No.”

“No, sir?”

“You… misinterpret my intention, Therese. How quickly can we escalate this media… to our video production team?”

Therese is… muted in her expression. But she can’t hesitate. Hesitation is weakness.

“I can have this to the team within the hour, Sir..”

“Excellent.”

“…And what would you like them to do with the media here, Sir?”

A lengthy pause.

“Therese, could you shut the door?”

“Yessir.”

Suddenly filled with dread, Therese stood, walked to the door, and quietly shut it, and returned to her chair.

“Thank you.”

…

…

The room remained eerily quiet.

…

…

Therese attempted to remain as stoic as possible. While her heart raced. A single bead of sweat started a slow journey down her forehead and past the edge of her nose.

…

…

If she wiped it off, would that be a sign of weakness?

If she left it, would it be seen as unseemly?

…

…

Oh God, is another one coming? Why is she sweating so much?

Should she say something?

…

Wait, is he still there? Did Phone #1 get disconnected?

She leans into the phone to check that the call is still active…

“Therese.”

She immediately snaps back against her seat.

“Sir.”

“I apologize for the … brief delay in communication.”

“I’m considering what I’m going to do next with great care and consideration.”

Oh God, he’s going to kill me… Therese thinks to herself

…

…

“You have been a very viable asset to the efforts of this organization.”

OH NO! HE’S GOING TO FIRE ME.

“Sir, before you finish that tho-“

“DO NOT INTERRUPT ME.”

Therese’s heart stops.

Like the blade of a guillotine just fell down on her neck…

…

…

“I hate to have to… reconsider my message, Therese.”

“Each new word in a conversation is another variable to consider when choosing my own speech.”

“So, if I spent significant time considering my words… Then, I find myself reconsidering my words… Before you know it, I’ve wasted my …precious …limited …time.”

“Do you understand, Therese?”

…

Therese is silent. Is she supposed to speak less now? Or not at all?

…

No, she has to speak, right?

“Yes, Sir.”

…

“I apologize.”

…

…

…

“…No need to apologize. But, do not let it happen again. Interruption is …non-optimal.”

“As I was saying…”

Therese feels like she’s going to spew the contents of her stomach onto the carpet at her feet. She’s about to lose the keys to her rocket ship to the top…

“It’s time we …reconsidered your position.”

Her life is over. She was on the ground-floor of a Trillion Dollar company that in ten years, at current growth projections, was going to be the World’s first quadrillion dollar company.

Eight of every ten Babies born this year are projected to grow up diehard XWF fans.

And the only reason that number isn’t nine because of the increasing infant mortality rate…

“It’s time we …ended your internship.”

Immediately, Therese’s tear ducts let loose. She remains expressionless, but a tear runs straight down each of her eyes.

“And brought you on full-time.”

…

…

“…Pardon, Sir?”

“You’ve been a flawless asset, Therese. Exact in your execution. And unquestioning in your loyalty,”

“And this most recent action you’ve taken… Opens a new realm of possibilities to our …future designs.”

“It’s time we brought you to our …very select organization, Therese.”

“Our talent is independent contractors and part-time employees, Therese.”

“Our referees are temporary hires we renew biweekly.”

“Even our management and road agents rotate and roll off.”

“But XWF’s Full-Time employees? We have… very few.”

“And I would like to offer you an opportunity to fill one of them.”

Fuck, Therese’s tears won’t stop.

She tries to blink them out. But that only multiplies their number.

“…Are you …all right, Therese?”

Therese tries to regain her composure by taking a deep breath and accidentally snorts up a load of phlegm, which echoes in the silent room.

She lets out a cough.

“…Allergies, Sir.”

She takes out a tissue from her pocket and wipes her face of her tears, sweat, mucus…

“…I see.”

…

…

Oh God, is she supposed to say something else?

Wait, she’s not supposed to interrupt.

…

But no one is speaking. Would it be interrupting to speak now?

“Well, Therese?”

“Sir?”

“…If XWF offered you a full-time position, would you… accept it?”

She waits a full beat, so there’s zero chance she’ll interrupt anything.

“Yes, yes. Yes. Yes, sir. Yes.”

…

“YES.”

…

“Sorry.”

…

“Yes.”

“Then, while I arrange the paperwork to render your new position official…”

Suddenly, Therese’s laptop disconnects from the Wi-Fi network.

And the projector turns on again…

With a different presentation.

One with a timeline, with events going back hundreds of years…

At the top…

‘Our Company’s History’.

“It’s time I informed you…”

“Everything this company really does…”

To Be Continued…