(Click)

[[The white ouroboros of buffering swirls in the center of the black screen. Blurry betacam video from the '90s shows a young mid-20s Alex Braun, and two other men campily strapping on "Mission Impossible"-style harnesses and attire; Braun and the redhead laughing hysterically--and genuinely--as the larger bald one struggles to pull on the neoprene jumpsuit, accidentally punching himself in the face as his meaty paws lose their grasp on the stretchy material]]

(Click)

[[Braun shouts orders, and a phalanx of other wrestlers dressed like Jehovah's Witnesses strap a hissing and pale ghoul of a man to a cross with barbed wire.]]

(Click)

[[Braun is wearing four championship belts, standing on a handtruck pushed by a large black man, the pair dressed head-to-toe in iceberg-themed fringey unitards.]]

(Click)

[[Braun is chatting at the Gorilla Position with what almost looks like the spitting image of Steve Austin, but looking at him you can somehow tell he's from Jersey--Not Texas. They are interrupted by a clownish whisp of a blonde man delivering a bottle of water, which Braun promptly uses to clock the Austinian man (I will tell you, dear reader, that his name was Stone Cold Bob, and you will simply have to take my word for it).

The video pauses and then scrolls back. Don't you recognize that blonde guy?

Sure you do.

Set aside the eager grin, and the remnants of harlequin paint smeared away from his eyes-- Look past the "aw shucks" wide-eyed moon face...]]

Fuckin' YouTube, am I right, Vinnie?

(Click)

[[The next video shows the man now fully realized as Vinnie Lane in a gym ring, Braun sitting in a corner as Lane struggles to master a reverse elbow off the ropes.]]

(Click)

[[A slow Ken Burns-style zoom into a blurry, but rather controversial, photo of Lane standing in the middle of Orlando's O-Rena with Braun and the other members of Elite raising his arms, after pinning Elite's co-founder "Devastating" Don in his final match with TCW]]

(Click)

[[In leaked snapchat video from earlier this year, Braun is laughing hysterically as he realizes Lane's blush has stained the inside of the mask the XWF owner had just handed him backstage at Coronarchy]]

You know, I liked to tell people that I never even met you for years. But damn, if you don't have a certain... *persistence*. I watched as the hired help for that freak turned into... I don't know... A pretty good jobber? Then, I watched as that jobber went from blowing out the upper decks of the USF Sun Dome while the audience was still filtering in--hastened by the excitement you were delivering in a match that was mostly designed to stress test the ring for the night.

And then... By god, or by your own goddamn inability to go away, you became one of the very few people on this planet... That I trust.

You went through the shit--Bunny-eyes hunting you in my place when I walked away. Being there...

[[he pauses, choked up]]

When Donny died.

When we all wanted to save him, but only you tried.

And since that day--I swore never to make the mistake of leaving a friend behind again, Vin. When you called--I came. To help keep control, to help steer the chaos, to help enforce your vision.

[[his volume ramps up, getting away from him]]

AFTER ALL-- We crossed the rubicon into the world where money doesn't matter anymore a long time ago.

AFTER ALL-- Our valuables are those memories, a little clicky-click away, right?

AFTER ALL-- If you owed me, isn't that one and the same as me owing you?

So...

[[He spreads his palms, and levels his demanor.]]

Why are we here?

Why am I pushing buttons and disrupting that vision now?

(Click)

[[The next video comes on, and it's Vinnie Lane with his bass player. Lane in the foreground, spotlit. Pinpoints of light sparkle starrily from the glitter smeared across his bare chest. His blond locks, peeking from beneath a bandana, flowing in the breeze of an industrial fan that has been under contract with him longer than his manager. The bass player, standing in the muddily dark background, steps up to lean against Lane while they double-track the song's bridge. The video pauses again. He, too, looks familiar doesn't he?

Only not really.]]

Black hair? Check. Blue eyes? Check. Comically large prosthetic nose? Check, and ouch. But "The Iceman" Alex Braun? AB- SO- LUTELY not.

Vinnie, Vinnie, Vinnie... We all "lead lives outside of the XWF," hell my life has never even been in the XWF. So did I want to join your actual, honest-to-god, Hair Metal cover band? Fuuuuuuuuck no.

[[He angrily slams the laptop shut]]

So what do you do? You take all that trust... All of those memories, and you make a mockery of me? OF MY NAME?

You didn't think that would go unnoticed did you? I know your little empire here is primarily streamed on the internet, and I got out of dot-com life before the bubble burst, but hello...

[[He waves his phone mockingly--Somehow even the small black rectangle of titanium and aluminum silicate in his hands looks newer, cooler, and harder to get than yours.]]

Ever hear of fucking twitter? Of course you have. You spend more time talking to hordes of middle-aged Russian troll farm workers than you do your own wife and kids.

I was going to find out, Vin.

And no--I still don't want to hop in the mystery machine with you living out some perverse VH1 fantasy...

But I am bored.

And you know me... After long enough, boredom turns to anger. And what the hell? I find anger pretty fucking fun. It's the most powerful drug on Earth, and I'm here to generate more of it.

In a promotion filled with aimless silver spooners, delusional "interdimensional demigods" and werewolves... It's really the only way to have fun.

So yeah.

Two weeks ago I gave Steve Sayors 20 grand to grease spider boy with a spiked baseball bat. You should have seen it when I made that eager doofus practice a "bad guy" face in the mirror before stuffing him in the garbage can and dumping the bag of coins on him. You would not BELIEVE how heavy those fuckers are, by the way.

And yeah. I gave one of Thaddeus Duke's discarded party trollops $80,000 to have a little fun. (aside) Seriously though: You need to talk to your employees about mandatory promotional appearances ahead of a major pay-per-view lineup announcement. Who the fuck is in charge here, anyway?

Jesus-- Look at me. Rambling on like one of your bloviating glorified midcarders. Where was I? Oh yeah...

[[He taps his chin in a crude pantomime of deep thought]]

But who turned Geri Vayden into a bitch-cicle for me?

Do I give a shit that whoever tried to cash in on Archyle failed?

You'll have to stay tuned. I'm going to spread a little truth with my anger, Vinnie. A dynamic cocktail. Let's see what it shows... How it changes us, shall we?

You say you're a family man now, that the circus tricks are for TV only now, that you're settled down, now...

You're not settled down, Lane, you're shriveled up. And I'm going to prove it.

And that, old friend... You know the rest.



--------------------------------------------------------------------

OOC: So where do we go from here? I dunno. I'm too busy to run a character, but thought it might be fun to talk shit and RP again. Anyone looking for a manager? You got a good idea to play off of the mercenarial angle? Hit me up.

Hiya, new kid.

For starters, Geri Vayden is irrelevant.

Second, Archyle almost never wrestles.

Third, Vinnie has already been outed and shamed for taking advantage of a female employee.

So, moneybags, all that cash and you can't even pay attention? I smell a trust funder, no way was this guy clever enough to earn a nickle. Join BOB, we'll guide you along.

A good thief checks the unguarded homes first.

I'm still... Exploring my goals. But you and TK have my respect.

Quote:So, moneybags, all that cash and you can't even pay attention? I smell a trust funder, no way was this guy clever enough to earn a nickle.

Stolen. Every penny. That's really the only way to have this much. Either way, it's in better hands.

Unlike dear old dad, I don't believe in hoarding it, I believe in using it. Just don't ask me for keys to the "moon base."

"Can I have the keys to the moon base?

Or what's left of it anyway..."

As for Lane, I've seen him survive shit that makes getting #MeTooed look like Blues Clues.

He's got the endurance of MRSA, and all of your labor and success pays for whatever spa he fucks off to when he gets caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Is this a compliment? It doesn't feel like a compliment.

Quote:Is this a compliment? It doesn't feel like a compliment.

If you didn't pay anybody to say it, it's probably not a compliment.