[updated:LAST EDITED ON Jun-27-03 AT 00:11 AM (EST)]Staring at the reflection looking up at him from the alcohol in his glass, Max Blackshire was sullen and reserved. The bar room around him and the other patrons that filled it barely existed in Max’s mind. It was just him, his stool, and his drink.
Happy with the company he found himself in, Max sweetened the deal by pulling a pack of cigarettes out from inside his coat pocket. Quickly lighting up, he took an ironic, cleansing breathe. Tapping his ashes in the tray he found before him, reality snapped back into focus. Max wasn’t alone with his drink and a smoke. He was surrounded by lice. In the middle of a mass of swirling disease and false intentions. His eyes swept the scene around him with unforgiving disdain, then suddenly zeroed in on the figure entering the Rusty Nail through it’s heavy iron door.
The new customer seemed entirely out of place, dressed in his finely pressed imported suit. Sneering just slightly, the man removed his blazer and hung it on his arm, eyes immediately finding Max across the bar.
Max stood with his drink, eyes meeting with the man at the door. With his head, Blackshire gestured towards a booth against the backwall – and the man nodded his head before angling his way in that direction.
Max got there first, sliding in and quickly claiming the table’s ash tray as his own before downing a heavy swig of his scotch. The unmistakable businessman sat down across from Max, raising a hand to garner the attention of one of the establishment’s haggard waitresses before turning to the man who had summoned him so uncerimoniously.
“Interesting choice of a meeting place”, Simon Leone noted.
Max smiled at the lawyer, then tiled his head slightly. “Thought you’d like it.”
The waitress appeared at the table suddenly and Leone curtly ordered a Gin and Tonic, “heavy on the gin”.
“Listen, Blackshire. I don’t appreciate being summoned. I certainly don’t appreciate being summoned half way across the city to meet with a man of questionable integrity and mental stability, a man whom I have had next to NO business relationship with, and whom I have no desire to forge a personal relationship with.” Leone folded his hands on the table before him, eyes steel-cold and alert. “I came out of curiosity... so tell me, Mr.Blackshire. Why am I here?”
The waitress literally “dropped” Leone’s drink off at the table before trucking off to another. Leone glanced at her before leaning across the table towards Max.
“...what could I possibly have to offer a man ... like you?”
Max smiled from behind his veil of smoke. “You underestimate yourself, Leone. You led the Obsidian Group’s takeover of Superior Championship Wrestling –“
Leone interjected in mid sip of his drink. “You don’t know all of the facts, Mr.Blackshire. And when it comes to the Obsidian Group and Superior Championship Wrestling ... speaking as a practicing lawyer ... it would be against my best interests to speak about a case still pending judgement.” Leone got to his feet, smoothing his tie. “If you called me to reminesce about hostile takeover’s of old, I’m going to have to–“
Now it was Max who interjected, a hand pointed back at Simon’s seat ... and one word.
“Sit”, Max said.
And Simon did.
“I didn’t call you to rehash a past I don’t care about, Leone. On the contrary. I’m looking to the future.” Max slowly took a drag, then exhaled out of the corner of his mouth. “And I need your help. Your ... support.”
Leone shook his head incredulously. “And what’s in it for me, exactly?”
Max shrugged his shoulders almost unnoticeably. “Perhaps I’ll owe you one”, Max suggested.
Leone dismissed it for the moment. “Forget that. What, exactly, do you want me to do?”
Max nodded his head, a sly grin stretched across his face.
“I need you to make a few phone calls. Grease a few wheels, get things moving for me. I’m ... looking to get back into ... action ... and–“, again Max was interrupted.
“Where?”, Leone asked, eyes calculating.
The words left his lips like he enjoyed saying them. “Global X-Treme Wrestling.”
Leone’s right eyebrow quickly arched. “You’re serious? ... you do realize that’s going to be nearly impossible.”
Max looked back down at what was left of his drink, unable now to find his reflection.
“The odds are COMPLETELY stacked against you”, Leone continued. “And given the company’s recent staff additions I SERIOUSLY doubt I’ll have any sway on GXW’s decisions.”
Max frowned, looking back up at Leone. “...what ‘staff additions’?”
Leone nearly did a spit-take with his last gulp of gin and tonic, wiping a trickle from his chin with the back of his hand, slightly embarrased.
“You’re kidding me ... aren’t you?”, Leone asked in disbelief.
Max shook his head, eyes growing dark and anxious.
“They just brought Edward Brown in as Commissioner”, Leone informed him. “...haven’t you been watching the shows?”
Max froze for a split-second. Brown. This was not good.
“No”, Max croaked. “No, I haven’t.” Another blasted set back. Another obstacle that would have to be over come. Max shook his head. There was no way he was going to allow Edward Brown or any other GXW bureaucrat keep him from what belonged to him – what was rightfully his.
Leone chuckled, tossing a twenty dollar bill on the table. “I suggest you catch up before walking into their Main Offices.”
Leone rose from the table and hovered above Max, a hand on his shoulder. Max didn’t acknowledge him – eyes turned to his glass.
“Good to see you, Blackshire. Now, do me a favor...”, Simon Leone asked. “Never call my offices again.”
Leone walked off, leaving Max alone with his drink. His fruitless encounter with Cassidy Stewart just days earlier still rang true in his mind:
”No promotion in North America would willingly sign you to a contract”, he had told him. And now, knowing that Brown had a firm foothold already in place in GXW, Max realized that getting inside Global’s walls might be harder than he had planned.
Downing his scotch, Max silently pledged to himself that, no matter what, he WOULD get inside. He would get as close as he needed to get. He’d take his shot. And he’d walk with what was owed to him.
It was only a matter of time.
http://www.paulbrisbin.com
-----------------------------
original music, opinion, nonsense.
Happy with the company he found himself in, Max sweetened the deal by pulling a pack of cigarettes out from inside his coat pocket. Quickly lighting up, he took an ironic, cleansing breathe. Tapping his ashes in the tray he found before him, reality snapped back into focus. Max wasn’t alone with his drink and a smoke. He was surrounded by lice. In the middle of a mass of swirling disease and false intentions. His eyes swept the scene around him with unforgiving disdain, then suddenly zeroed in on the figure entering the Rusty Nail through it’s heavy iron door.
The new customer seemed entirely out of place, dressed in his finely pressed imported suit. Sneering just slightly, the man removed his blazer and hung it on his arm, eyes immediately finding Max across the bar.
Max stood with his drink, eyes meeting with the man at the door. With his head, Blackshire gestured towards a booth against the backwall – and the man nodded his head before angling his way in that direction.
Max got there first, sliding in and quickly claiming the table’s ash tray as his own before downing a heavy swig of his scotch. The unmistakable businessman sat down across from Max, raising a hand to garner the attention of one of the establishment’s haggard waitresses before turning to the man who had summoned him so uncerimoniously.
“Interesting choice of a meeting place”, Simon Leone noted.
Max smiled at the lawyer, then tiled his head slightly. “Thought you’d like it.”
The waitress appeared at the table suddenly and Leone curtly ordered a Gin and Tonic, “heavy on the gin”.
“Listen, Blackshire. I don’t appreciate being summoned. I certainly don’t appreciate being summoned half way across the city to meet with a man of questionable integrity and mental stability, a man whom I have had next to NO business relationship with, and whom I have no desire to forge a personal relationship with.” Leone folded his hands on the table before him, eyes steel-cold and alert. “I came out of curiosity... so tell me, Mr.Blackshire. Why am I here?”
The waitress literally “dropped” Leone’s drink off at the table before trucking off to another. Leone glanced at her before leaning across the table towards Max.
“...what could I possibly have to offer a man ... like you?”
Max smiled from behind his veil of smoke. “You underestimate yourself, Leone. You led the Obsidian Group’s takeover of Superior Championship Wrestling –“
Leone interjected in mid sip of his drink. “You don’t know all of the facts, Mr.Blackshire. And when it comes to the Obsidian Group and Superior Championship Wrestling ... speaking as a practicing lawyer ... it would be against my best interests to speak about a case still pending judgement.” Leone got to his feet, smoothing his tie. “If you called me to reminesce about hostile takeover’s of old, I’m going to have to–“
Now it was Max who interjected, a hand pointed back at Simon’s seat ... and one word.
“Sit”, Max said.
And Simon did.
“I didn’t call you to rehash a past I don’t care about, Leone. On the contrary. I’m looking to the future.” Max slowly took a drag, then exhaled out of the corner of his mouth. “And I need your help. Your ... support.”
Leone shook his head incredulously. “And what’s in it for me, exactly?”
Max shrugged his shoulders almost unnoticeably. “Perhaps I’ll owe you one”, Max suggested.
Leone dismissed it for the moment. “Forget that. What, exactly, do you want me to do?”
Max nodded his head, a sly grin stretched across his face.
“I need you to make a few phone calls. Grease a few wheels, get things moving for me. I’m ... looking to get back into ... action ... and–“, again Max was interrupted.
“Where?”, Leone asked, eyes calculating.
The words left his lips like he enjoyed saying them. “Global X-Treme Wrestling.”
Leone’s right eyebrow quickly arched. “You’re serious? ... you do realize that’s going to be nearly impossible.”
Max looked back down at what was left of his drink, unable now to find his reflection.
“The odds are COMPLETELY stacked against you”, Leone continued. “And given the company’s recent staff additions I SERIOUSLY doubt I’ll have any sway on GXW’s decisions.”
Max frowned, looking back up at Leone. “...what ‘staff additions’?”
Leone nearly did a spit-take with his last gulp of gin and tonic, wiping a trickle from his chin with the back of his hand, slightly embarrased.
“You’re kidding me ... aren’t you?”, Leone asked in disbelief.
Max shook his head, eyes growing dark and anxious.
“They just brought Edward Brown in as Commissioner”, Leone informed him. “...haven’t you been watching the shows?”
Max froze for a split-second. Brown. This was not good.
“No”, Max croaked. “No, I haven’t.” Another blasted set back. Another obstacle that would have to be over come. Max shook his head. There was no way he was going to allow Edward Brown or any other GXW bureaucrat keep him from what belonged to him – what was rightfully his.
Leone chuckled, tossing a twenty dollar bill on the table. “I suggest you catch up before walking into their Main Offices.”
Leone rose from the table and hovered above Max, a hand on his shoulder. Max didn’t acknowledge him – eyes turned to his glass.
“Good to see you, Blackshire. Now, do me a favor...”, Simon Leone asked. “Never call my offices again.”
Leone walked off, leaving Max alone with his drink. His fruitless encounter with Cassidy Stewart just days earlier still rang true in his mind:
”No promotion in North America would willingly sign you to a contract”, he had told him. And now, knowing that Brown had a firm foothold already in place in GXW, Max realized that getting inside Global’s walls might be harder than he had planned.
Downing his scotch, Max silently pledged to himself that, no matter what, he WOULD get inside. He would get as close as he needed to get. He’d take his shot. And he’d walk with what was owed to him.
It was only a matter of time.
http://www.paulbrisbin.com
-----------------------------
original music, opinion, nonsense.