Ten weeks ago Theo Pryce returned to the XWF after a summer vacation out in the pacific. A few weeks after that it was revealed that for the last 8 months Theo Pryce was also the masked vigilante and XWF champion known as Enigma. And since that time Theo has been winning titles, saving the world from nasty terrorists and banging super models on the regular. What exactly does all this mean? It means that Theo Pryce needs his own assistant.

Well today that is going to be rectified.

The scene is John Samuel's ranch in Texas. Specifically a picnic table set up about 50 yards away from the ranch. Seated at the table is Theo Pryce and of course his trusty friend Johnny Walker Blue. Theo is nose deep in a stack of resumes when John Samuel's Urban Advisor, Abe strolls up to the table.


"Theo your first interview is here."

"Fantastic Abe. Send them over."

"You got it."


Abe walks away from the table and over to a large man dressed in a suit about two sizes too big for him. The man has short black hair and at least two days worth of stubble. Abe and the man exchange a few words before Abe leads him over to the table.


"Theo your first interview. A Mr. Kevin Steen."





"Kevin Steen? The wanna be WWE wrestler? WWE really? No wonder why you are looking for secondary income. Have a seat."


Kevin unbuttons his suit jacket which, to be honest, he could have left buttoned because of how much excess room he had and then takes a seat as Theo requested.


"So tell me Kevin why do you want to be my Personal Assistant?"

"Well the truth is Mr. Pryce, I have a wife and two kids. One of which is autistic."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I know an autistic person myself. His name is Peter Gilmour, kind of looks a little like you actually but he's clearly not you. No way that fat could father children, especially after getting his dick cut off. Oh shit, I probably shouldn't say in front of you. Sorry about that."

"It's ok. I know you didn't mean anything by it."

"Well I did, just not directed at your kid. So anyway, you were saying, you have a wife and two kids. And somehow that translates into you needing additional funds?"

"Yes. Unfortunately having an autistic child is both challenging and expensive and my WWE contract is not enough to really pay for the various Doctors and Specialists and other special needs that my son has."

"I see. Well Kevin I have to be honest with you being my Personal Assistant is not an easy task, in fact it's very rigorous. My last assistant died."

"Really?"

"Yes, he fell down a flight of stairs. Stupid kids and their need to always be on their cell phone."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Were you two close?"

"He seemed to think so."

"Have you ever seen any tapes of me wrestling?"

"No why the hell would I do that? The XWF is already full of shitty wrestlers who think they are good. Like the aforementioned Peter Gilmour and the last thing we need is two of him."

"The XWF?"

"Yes the XWF. The X-treme Wrestling Federation."

"Never heard of it."

"What the fuck?"


Theo starts quickly shuffling through the resumes in front of him until he comes across Kevin Steen's.


"Oh I get it. Canadian. That explains your idiocy. It's probably why your kid is a . Tell you what Kevin this isn't going to work out. Good luck being ignored in the WWE in favor of 60 year olds and part time management. You can go."


Steen gets up from his seat his face bright red and his fists clenched so tight that they are turning white.


"Something a matter Kevin? You look angry."


Theo motions over to Abe who then walks over to the table and politely ushers Kevin Steen away before coming back to the table.


"How did that go?"

"About as well as the Titanic's maiden voyage."

"Ouch."

"Who set these interviews up anyway?"

"Fran Fairchild."

"Any relation to Ann?"

"Her younger and more attractive sister."

"You don't say? Well I'm just going to need to speak with her as soon as these interviews are over."

"Sure thing. I'll set that up. In the mean time your second interview is here. A Mr. Windham Routunda."


Abe points over to the gentlemen with a long dark beard and long dark hair wearing a straw top hat, Black Sport Coat over a Hawaiian shirt with white pants and white boots.





"Rotunda. Most appropriately named person ever. Send him over."


Abe motions over to the man who upon seeing the hand gesture walks over to the table. He shakes Theo's hand and then takes a seat.


"That's one hell of a getup you got there Windham."

"Thank you. I like to have my own unique style."

"I can see that. So Windham I see here that you wrestle in the WWE under a stage name. Probably not a bad idea given your real name."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing really. Just that Windham Rotunda doesn't roll off the tongue as well as Bray Wyatt does."

"Yeah I suppose that's true."

"Do you mind if I call you E.J?"

"What? Why?"

"I don't know you look just like an E.J to me."

"Well if it helps me get the job sure."

"It can't hurt."

"Very well then. Call me E.J."

"Fantastic. Now I see here in your resume that just like the guy I interviewed before you, you work for the WWE."

"That's right. Who did you interview before me? It was Dean wasn't it? That fucking guy, always trying to one up me."

"No it wasn't Dean. Why the fuck would Dean Malenko want to work for me?"

"Not Dean Malenko, Dean Ambrose."

"No clue who that is. I haven't watched the WWE in over a decade and even then it was sporadic at best."

"That's unfortunate. I watch the XWF, I am a huge fan of yours. In fact I might be your biggest fan."

"Leave."

"What? What did I say?"

"The last thing I need is a crazy fucking stalker being paid by me to follow me around. Get out of here Mark David Chapman. Seriously. Don't speak. Just get up and walk away."


Sensing there is nothing else for him to really do at this point E.J gets up and walks towards the ranch, passing Abe as he does.


"Let me tell you something Abe. Fran better be one fine piece of tail because when it comes to screening talent she's fucking awful."

"Sorry to hear that. Your last interview is here. And here is a copy of his resume."

"What? Why didn't I already have a copy of this?"

"Apparently there was some trouble with his email and it wouldn't go through so he brought a copy with him."


Theo takes the resume out of Abe's hand and looks it over.


"A Stanford grad? Fantastic. Oh and I like his name. Richard Sherman. He sounds white. Wait...Richard Sherman, went to Stanford? No way."

"Yes way."

"Send him the fuck over. This is awesome."




Seattle Seahawks Cornerback and NFL Pro Bowler Richard Sherman walks over to the table and greets Abe with the standard hand slap and back bat and then takes a seat across from Theo.


"You're hired."

"Really? Just like that?"

"Yep just like that."

"Well don't you think we should talk about my qualifications? Or my job responsibilities? Pay, benefits, 401K stuff like that?"

"I mean if you want to. You applied for the job so obviously you know what the job involves so I'm not really sure what there is to discuss."

"Actually all that was listed was the job title. No actual job responsibilities."

"And you applied anyway? Why?"

"Because I heard that about a year ago a man by the name of Peter Gilmour had some not so nice things to say about me, some racially motivated things and I was hoping that being your Personal Assistant would afford me the opportunity to jam my first down his fat throat."

"Well funny you should say that because the biggest and most important job duty of my P.A will involve being the official XWF referee for all matches involving The Kings."

"Oh shit really?"

"Really. I got John Madison to draw up the contract so that it's official. It's right here, all it needs is your signature."

"You got a pen?"

"Fountain, Ballpoint or Fiber Tip?"

"Ballpoint please."

"Here you go."


Theo reaches into his jacket and pulls a blue Ballpoint pen from his inside breast pocket and hands it to Richard Sherman. Theo then places the documents on the table which Richard then spends a couple minutes reviewing before ultimately signing. Richard then hands the pen to Theo who also signs the documents making everything official.


"Welcome to the team."

"Thank you Mr. Pryce. I won't let you down."

"I know that. Alright I've got some last minute business to attend to before my match, I'll give you a call sometime on Thursday to get the ball rolling."

"Sounds great Mr. Pryce. Thanks again for the opportunity."

"Don't mention it Richard. See you soon. And good luck this weekend. Who you guys got on the schedule?"

"The Cardinals."

"Oh...well......this is awkward."

"Why is that?"

"Well I grew up in Phoenix, so I'm a Cardinals fan."

"Yeah that is awkward."

"Tell you what Richard, I'm going to do my best to look past this massive problem. If you get a call from me next week well then good for you, if not, don't take it personal. Oh and I take back the Good Luck."

"I accept that."


Theo and Richard both get up and shake hands before going their separate ways. Richard towards the driveway and Theo towards the house. As he gets to the steps leading up to the back porch where Abe is already standing.


"And how about that one?"

"I'd call it a success."

"Excellent. Fran is waiting for you in the living room."

"Thank you Abe.


Theo walks up the steps, into the home and straight into the living room where a beautiful brunette, presumably Fran, is seated on the couch.

---

Well here we are, 24 hours away from yours truly successfully defending his title against Peter Gilmour and Eli James. I would like to try and be humble and pretend like the end result of this match wasn't a foregone conclusion but that would make me a liar. And to be honest with you I would rather leave the lying up to people like Gilmour and Eli James.

Peter has been relatively quiet ever since I dumped all the shit he threw at me right back in his face. No doubt cooking up some grade school response that any trained monkey could combat. Bless Gilmour's heart he tries so hard and yet fails even harder. Go ahead Gilly, shoot some more shit my way see how well that works out for you. Or you know, don't. Maybe for once in your sad and failure filled life you'll do the smart thing and that's shut your mouth and take your beating like a man. Nah, who am I kidding? It's you.

And now onto Eli. Eli, Eli, Eli. I'm a little disappointed in you. After all this is the moment you've been waiting for no? The moment where you get me in the ring all by yourself. Because lets be honest, Gilmour is like the little child clawing at our legs trying to get our attention. You and I both know that either one of us could take him out in the amount of time it takes for Frodo to spot his next rape victim and then it would be just you and me. Mono y fatso. And yet for some reason you've decided to blow off the biggest match of your life. Maybe it's my own fault for agreeing to face you in the middle of hunting season. You are probably off hunting pheasants and rabbits or whatever it is you backwoods, sister fucking, jackals eat for food. So yeah that's my bad. I don't blame you for ducking me though. I have taken everything you've ever cared about. Your Congregation, your company, your title. Your dignity is really the only thing left so trying to run from me after begging for this match is probably the smart choice. Hell you aren't even half as talented as the masked that you store your semen in, you know, the one who hides in caves, and I already made quick work out of him months ago. So I get why you might be afraid to have a go at me now. So tell you what I'm going to do Eli because I'm such a swell guy, if you keep your yap shut and pretend like you saw the writing on the wall weeks ago when I took your title from you then I'll pin you first and let you get back to shooting squirrels out of your double wide. Deal?