GreggG
Moderator
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 810
- Points
- 18
(CUT TO: The crackle of a fire in a fireplace made of old-world carved granite. CUT TO: A chessboard. White chess pieces all over the board have fallen. A gloved finger moves the white queen to the black king and knocks it over. A loud chuckle is heard in the background. The camera PANS BACK and reveals two people sitting behind the chessboard, both in high-backed, deep-set leather chairs in a room decorated in Burberry plaid and dark, rich original mahogany woods. In the right sits JJ DEVILLE, his hair ponytailed back, as he's wearing a white button-down shirt with a navy blue blazer over it with an ensignia -- a gold crown whose crests are shaped into flames. In the chair opposite him is VERONICA ABRAMS RUMSFELD, in her traditional Sunday's finest, with the addition of white elbow-length gloves and a neckbrace.)
RUMSFELD: "Checkmate."
(They start laughing again. JJ holds up a brandy snifter and swirls the aged cocktail inside and sniffs it. He then takes a sniff, licks his chops, and purses his lips as he stares at the glass for a second.)
JJ: "Nothing in my life has ever tasted so well. This here is more than just aged Glenlivet. This here is the taste... the taste of SUCCESS. This here is the taste of VICTORY. This here is the reward you get after you engineered THE BIGGEST COUP IN PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING HISTORY! Troy Windham's career is OVER, his neck snapped like a twig at my feet. Mike Randalls' skull was placed on a figurative PIKE by Blaine Hollywood and Dorchester Stratton. The three of us walked out together -- BROTHERS IN ARM -- as you at home and everyone else in the back could do nothing but WATCH AND WEEP AT THE BIRTH OF THE HELLFIRE CLUB!"
(JJ takes a deep, arrogant sniff of his scotch.)
RUMSFELD: "The chessboard that you see before you? I know none of you at home went to the Main Line preparatory schools that I went to or to Oxford like Blaine--"
JJ: "Or to North Carolina State, like me!"
(Rumsfeld blinks for a second and then regathers her train of thought.)
RUMSFELD: "Yes. I know most of you proles at home haven't read the tomes that our eyes have touched. Things like 'symbolism' and 'metaphors' don't exactly have meaning to the wretched refuse of this earth. But allow me to expound. Professional wrestling is a game, just like chess. It's a game in which pieces have different capabilities and power. It's a game in which the true masters have steel-trap minds like computers, analyzing and forecasting to determine how best to accomplish victory. The four of us in The Hellfire Club have played this game for sometime now. But we were seen as PAWNS. We were there to do the bidding of Calvin Carlton. Of Troy Windham. Of Eddie Mayfield. We were there to help further their places in this industry. Well, it finally dawned on us that they weren't the ones in the position of power. WE WERE. And once that was realized..." (Rumsfeld laughs as JJ leans forward and flicks a bunch of white pieces off the board.) "Then the king was captured. Checkmate."
(Rumsfeld picks up her own snifter.)
JJ: "I've told you all for months that I am this sport's master politician. And what I've learned along the way is to always consider your options. And never say no to no-one. And to always keep an open mind."
(Veronica holds up her Blackberry, hits a button and begins to read.)
RUMSFELD: "Veronica -- this is JJ. Got yr number from the HR files. Just wanted to see if you could give Dorchester a thx for us. He was the only guy on Mayfield's team we were scared of. Got no beef with you or him. Might owe you one."
(JJ holds up his Blackberry.)
JJ: "Cancelling the show -- good move. Dan Ryan's a relic of the past. You're to good for him. VAR."
(Veronica holds up her Blackberry.)
VAR: "I don't have Blaine's butler's cell. Tell him he got robbed in the Ultratitle. Calvin doesn't know how lucky he is."
(JJ holds up his Blackberry.)
JJ: "Loved seeing you march that whore Fiona around the arena. Sorry you lost the belt -- best TV champ ever. Dorchester wants some of Jack. You cool with that?"
(Veronica holds up her Blackberry.)
VAR: "Loved seeing him roll up the hood of that car. What's Cal thinking w/ Malik? Blaine's the star of that team. I should talk to him soon."
(JJ holds up his Blackberry.)
JJ: "I talked it out. Dorchester's fine. But you should talk with Blaine. He needs to hear it from you."
VAR: "Blaine's in. It's done. Reloaded."
(The two put away their Blackberry's and chuckle.)
RUMSFELD: "And, indeed, it has been done. JJ DeVille. Blaine Hollywood. JJ DeVille. And yours truly, Veronica Abrams Rumsfeld. The Hellfire Club. That's the tale of how we formed. But what we're going to write next? It's simple. Total and utter domination of New Frontier Wrestling. Dorchester, Blaine and JJ have put aside their egos for the benefit of this alliance. And myself? They've hired me as its EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR to oversee its administrative efforts to ensure that we are on the same page at all times."
JJ: "Our organization's charter statement is simple. We are here to DOMINATE and CONTROL New Frontier Wrestling. We will rule this place with an iron first. Every single title will belong to us. Dorchester's just mere weeks away from having the TV Title within his grasp. Blaine Hollywood's the single greatest tag team wrestler in professional wrestling history and a man who was BORN AND BRED into greatness as an individual talent, too. And myself? Well, just ask our current World Champion and his number one contender as to how good I am because I am the only person alive who has pinned them both. And -- heh -- let's not forget that I know how to use my signature to make you all get on buses and drive cross country and to take time from your lives and money from your pockets to make your lives a living hell."
RUMSFELD: "We make the rules. We call the shots. We control the board."
JJ: "Do what thou wilt."
(CUT TO: The crackling fireplace. FTB.)
RUMSFELD: "Checkmate."
(They start laughing again. JJ holds up a brandy snifter and swirls the aged cocktail inside and sniffs it. He then takes a sniff, licks his chops, and purses his lips as he stares at the glass for a second.)
JJ: "Nothing in my life has ever tasted so well. This here is more than just aged Glenlivet. This here is the taste... the taste of SUCCESS. This here is the taste of VICTORY. This here is the reward you get after you engineered THE BIGGEST COUP IN PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING HISTORY! Troy Windham's career is OVER, his neck snapped like a twig at my feet. Mike Randalls' skull was placed on a figurative PIKE by Blaine Hollywood and Dorchester Stratton. The three of us walked out together -- BROTHERS IN ARM -- as you at home and everyone else in the back could do nothing but WATCH AND WEEP AT THE BIRTH OF THE HELLFIRE CLUB!"
(JJ takes a deep, arrogant sniff of his scotch.)
RUMSFELD: "The chessboard that you see before you? I know none of you at home went to the Main Line preparatory schools that I went to or to Oxford like Blaine--"
JJ: "Or to North Carolina State, like me!"
(Rumsfeld blinks for a second and then regathers her train of thought.)
RUMSFELD: "Yes. I know most of you proles at home haven't read the tomes that our eyes have touched. Things like 'symbolism' and 'metaphors' don't exactly have meaning to the wretched refuse of this earth. But allow me to expound. Professional wrestling is a game, just like chess. It's a game in which pieces have different capabilities and power. It's a game in which the true masters have steel-trap minds like computers, analyzing and forecasting to determine how best to accomplish victory. The four of us in The Hellfire Club have played this game for sometime now. But we were seen as PAWNS. We were there to do the bidding of Calvin Carlton. Of Troy Windham. Of Eddie Mayfield. We were there to help further their places in this industry. Well, it finally dawned on us that they weren't the ones in the position of power. WE WERE. And once that was realized..." (Rumsfeld laughs as JJ leans forward and flicks a bunch of white pieces off the board.) "Then the king was captured. Checkmate."
(Rumsfeld picks up her own snifter.)
JJ: "I've told you all for months that I am this sport's master politician. And what I've learned along the way is to always consider your options. And never say no to no-one. And to always keep an open mind."
(Veronica holds up her Blackberry, hits a button and begins to read.)
RUMSFELD: "Veronica -- this is JJ. Got yr number from the HR files. Just wanted to see if you could give Dorchester a thx for us. He was the only guy on Mayfield's team we were scared of. Got no beef with you or him. Might owe you one."
(JJ holds up his Blackberry.)
JJ: "Cancelling the show -- good move. Dan Ryan's a relic of the past. You're to good for him. VAR."
(Veronica holds up her Blackberry.)
VAR: "I don't have Blaine's butler's cell. Tell him he got robbed in the Ultratitle. Calvin doesn't know how lucky he is."
(JJ holds up his Blackberry.)
JJ: "Loved seeing you march that whore Fiona around the arena. Sorry you lost the belt -- best TV champ ever. Dorchester wants some of Jack. You cool with that?"
(Veronica holds up her Blackberry.)
VAR: "Loved seeing him roll up the hood of that car. What's Cal thinking w/ Malik? Blaine's the star of that team. I should talk to him soon."
(JJ holds up his Blackberry.)
JJ: "I talked it out. Dorchester's fine. But you should talk with Blaine. He needs to hear it from you."
VAR: "Blaine's in. It's done. Reloaded."
(The two put away their Blackberry's and chuckle.)
RUMSFELD: "And, indeed, it has been done. JJ DeVille. Blaine Hollywood. JJ DeVille. And yours truly, Veronica Abrams Rumsfeld. The Hellfire Club. That's the tale of how we formed. But what we're going to write next? It's simple. Total and utter domination of New Frontier Wrestling. Dorchester, Blaine and JJ have put aside their egos for the benefit of this alliance. And myself? They've hired me as its EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR to oversee its administrative efforts to ensure that we are on the same page at all times."
JJ: "Our organization's charter statement is simple. We are here to DOMINATE and CONTROL New Frontier Wrestling. We will rule this place with an iron first. Every single title will belong to us. Dorchester's just mere weeks away from having the TV Title within his grasp. Blaine Hollywood's the single greatest tag team wrestler in professional wrestling history and a man who was BORN AND BRED into greatness as an individual talent, too. And myself? Well, just ask our current World Champion and his number one contender as to how good I am because I am the only person alive who has pinned them both. And -- heh -- let's not forget that I know how to use my signature to make you all get on buses and drive cross country and to take time from your lives and money from your pockets to make your lives a living hell."
RUMSFELD: "We make the rules. We call the shots. We control the board."
JJ: "Do what thou wilt."
(CUT TO: The crackling fireplace. FTB.)
