The name on the door reads Paul Heyman - General Manager of Madness. What it should say is Paul Heyman - Leader of the Heyman Alliance, Manager of the Stars and Savior of the XWF. But it doesn't. I guess maybe that's just too much for one door. Standing outside of it is Tommy Gunn. He doesn't bother knocking instead he grabs the circular knob and in one swift motion turns it, opens the door and steps through just as Paul is wrapping up a phone call.

"Ok that sounds great. Looking forward to seeing you."

Paul puts the phone down on the receiver ending the call and then looks up at his guest.

"Tommy your timing is impeccable. I just got off the phone with my newest client."

"Great, anyone I know?"

"As a matter of fact you do, it's your nephew Christian."

"What? You are managing him?"

"That's right."

"Paul he's 8."

"I know, it's going to be amazing. I am going to manage him to the top."

"How the fuck is he calling you? He should be in 4th period right now."

"No idea but he seems like a pretty resourceful kid. Shooting his own challenges, uploading them to the internet. I would think for a kid like that finding a phone to make a call would be cake."

"Paul you can't manage him. He's 8 years old for Christ sakes. You have to put a stop to this. He can't have a match with Peter Gilmour. How the fuck does the XWF even allow this to happen? How do you allow this to happen?"

"Stop this? Are you insane. This is the greatest money making opportunity the XWF has ever seen."

"He's 8."

"I know. That's exactly what I am saying. I can cash in on him for 10 years before he is even old enough to buy porno mags. I am going to manage this kid from the playground to the top of the XWF. It's going to be glorious."

"Paul you can't do this, this is my nephew, my flesh and blood. Scrap the match. Put me in it instead, let me rip that fat bastard limb from limb before the opening bell. That fat has been ducking me for weeks and now he gets a match with a kid?"

"You will get your chance Tommy I promise you but this match has to happen. I am telling you this match is a gold mine."

He's not hearing me. It's not really a surprise, once Paul get's an idea in his head he runs with it. To hell with what others think.

"Paul, put the fucking piggy bank down and listen to me for a second. Christian is 8 years old. He needs a fucking hall piss to go and take a piss. And you want him wrestling the biggest cunt this federation has ever seen? How in the fuck can you or any of the GM's even sign off on a match like this?"

"Look Tom, your nephew issued the challenge, Peter accepted it, so here we are. Perhaps you need to talk to your sister about how she let this happen."

"Are you mother fucking kidding me? My sister?"

"Well she is the boys mother."

I swear to fucking God I am getting dangerously close to ripping Paul's throat out where he stands.

"Paul, he's 8. Let me say that one more time and maybe you will hear me this time. He's 8. As in, he hasn't even hit fucking puberty yet. He wears Superman pajamas. And you are ok with him wrestling in the XWF why? Because it will make Peter Gilmour look like the world's biggest asshole?"

"Pretty much."

"Not acceptable. I swear to God Paul if something happens to my nephew I will cut down every single mother fucker in this place that had anything to do with allowing this match to go on. Starting with Gilmour and ending with you. If I have to rip Kendall Sawyer, Azrael Erebus, Steve Davids and Brock Lesnar apart to get to you I will do it. Don't you dare doubt me."

"Tommy you need to calm down before you do or say something that you can't take back. I promise you, nothing will happen to your nephew. I will be there with him for the whole match, so will you. It will be ok. I promise."

"Paul the kid still leaves his baby teeth under his fucking pillow for the tooth fairy for God sakes."

"Does he?"

I can see the gears spinning in his head.

"Are you fucking serious right now?"

"Tommy you really need to calm down. I'm serious. You are as red as the devil's dick. It's all going to be ok. I have a plan. I always have a plan, actually. But in the meantime I want you to take a look at this. I had the fellas downstairs mock this up.

Paul reaches down under his desk and pulls out what looks like a rolled up poster. He pushes the two rubber bands off and the poster immediately unrolls. The poster is a picture of Christian Gunn and fat ass Peter Gilmour standing in front of a jungle gym, the words "Schoolyard Brawl" adorn the top and at the bottom it says Wednesday Night Warefare September 17, 2014.


"Lovely Paul."

"Isn't it? I got them working on t-shirts and I'm trying to get an action figure made of your nephew. I think he's going to be pretty psyched about that but don't tell him. I want it to be a secret."

"Posters, t-shirts, action figures, you've got it all figured out. I'm just curious what is Christian's cut in all of this?"

"Same as it is for every other XWF star."

"Not every other XWF star still eats Captain Crunch for breakfast. What's his cut?"

"25%."

"That's more than I get."

"Like I said, the kid's a gold mine. Become a gold mine, you'll get a bigger cut."

"Well being as that I spent a few hours getting my ass torn into by my sister I am fairly certain she didn't sign any contract on Christian's behalf to make sure that he sees any of this money you are talking about. So tell me Paul, how exactly is Christian going to get that 25% that you were talking about?"

Paul looks around the room for a little trying desperately not to make eye contact with me.

"Paul?"

"There is no contract."

"You are going to rip off an 8 year old kid? Are you secretly Macaulay Culkin's father?"

"Who?"

"Home Alone. Richy Rich?"

"Still nothing."

"Ok Paul I am only going to say this once, you have 24 hours to get a contract drawn up, not only that I want a 5 million dollar insurance policy taken out on Christian just in case that fat bottom feeding hurts him. I want them drawn up and ready for Christian and his mother to sign. If not I am going to burn this place down."

"Ok Tommy ok. No need for threats."

"Those aren't threats Paul. Threats are what Peter Gilmour does whenever he says he is going to bury someone. What I am saying to you are promises. I promise you if I don't see a contract in 24 hours this whole building will be in flames and you will never see me again."

"Fine! Contract!

Look, I'll take care of the kid. I'm a Jew, but that doesn't mean I'd willingly and knowingly rip off an innocent child. Don't you have a match to prepare for?"

"Yeah I do."

"Who is it against again?"

"You are my manager Paul, shouldn't you know that?"

"I've been a little preoccupied lately. Who are you facing?"

"Liz Hathaway."

"That chick?"

"Yes Paul that chick. You don't mind signing off on a match featuring an 8 year old but me fighting a woman gives you some pause?"

"No no, just double checking. Which one is Liz Hathaway?"

"Really? You had the Alliance attack her and her partner at the Pay Per View. Remember they stole the tag team titles."

"Yeah yeah I remember I just can't remember exactly which one she is."

"Black hair, kind of small. Bit of a dirty mouth."

"Oh the one that looks like that woman from that movie with the teddy bear?"

"Yeah ok. Sure."

"Well that match should be a tune up for your match with Peter Gilmour."

"As much as I would love to make a joke about how women are inferior and should stay in the kitchen making dinner, this is Peter Gilmour we are talking about. That rotund is a tune up for everyone else on the roster. But he refused to get into the ring with me so it doesn't really matter now does it?"

"I promise you and Gilmour will happen, I have already been on the phone with the Warfare GM's they have agreed to scheduling a match. You have my word."

"I'll believe it when I see it Paul. Get me that contract Paul or the match with Christian isn't happening you hear me?"

"You got it Tommy. But before you go I need you to do me a favor."

"Really? You want me to do you a favor. You work for me don't you?"

"Yes I do, and I'm glad to do so but I need your help with something and you are the only man for the job. The best man for the job in fact."

"Ass kissing is very unbecoming of you Paul."

"Don't say I didn't try."

"What do you need?"

"Steve Davids."

"What about him?"

"I need you to rescue him."

"Rescue him? Are you kidding me? I'm an ex Army Sniper. I'm not an extraction team."

"No. But you did it once before I need you to do it again."

"I have no idea where he is."

"I do. Here is the address. Bring our boy home."

Paul hands me the piece of paper, I memorize the address and then hand it back to Paul.

"It's going to take some time but I'll get it done."

"Very good. You'll have that contract by the end of the day."

"We'll see."