Post by Almost Like Flacco on Apr 3, 2008 20:01:25 GMT -5
Inside of a very, very swanky downtown restaraunt, people are enjoying dinners of Chicken Cordon-Bleu and T-Bone Steaks. The walls, covered in red velvet wallpaper, are vibrating to the mixed sounds of constant chatter and waiters and waitresses bringing out the people's dishes. Shields and his manager, Yvonne, are sitting in an exclusive booth in the back corner of the room. With empty plates in front of them, one assumes that they just finished their meal. Yvonne is relaxing, sipping on a glass of red wine while Shields is hunched over the table, staring down at it.
Yvonne: What is wrong with you, Christian? You've hardly said a thing all night.
Shields: I just can't believe that the House Shows are getting discarded. The place that I dominated, gone. In the blink of an eye.
Yvonne: So, what will you do after this next show?
Shields: Well, I suppose I'll move up to the main show and start there. But it's all up in the air right now.
Yvonne: Wait, are you questioning continueing your career?
Shields: Whoa, Yvonne. Don't be putting words in my mouth like that. I never said I might quit. I just said that I may be moving up, I may not. It's all up to the new owners.
Yvonne: Oh, right.
Shields is visibly growing more upset with every word he speaks.
Shields: It's just sort of unsettling that, well, my home in WFWF basically, is getting shut down. What kind of a nickname is "Mr. House Show" when there are no House Shows? And what is to become of the legacy that the Independent Scene left? Is that just going to be blinked out of existance like it never happened? We were the first Tag Team Heritage Cup owners for God's sake!
Yvonne: I'm sure it will all still be there in the record books. WFWF Management isn't going to let all of it go away. Just some of the... boring parts will be left out. Now will you calm yourself down? You're causing a scene!
He begins to collect himself.
Shields: Alright. You're right. They can't strike it from the records.
His cell phone rings. He looks to see who is calling.
Shields: Excuse me for just one second.
He opens the phone and before the other person can even say a word, he shouts...
Shields: STOP CALLING ME! I'm tired of your constant interruptions! Just leave me the hell alone!
He slams the phone shut and does his best to calm down.
Yvonne: Would you get a hold of yourself?
Shields: I'm sorry, but all of these situations I'm in are making me come unglued. I've got all of this stuff hanging over my head and I just need some clarity right now.
Yvonne: Well here a slice of it for you: This is your last House Show match, ever. Now, I don't know if you have ever even seen this guy, but his name is Trace Demon.
She hands him a profile of his opponent. He begins thumbing through it.
Shields: The name sounds familiar, but, I don't really recall the two of us even meeting face to face.
Yvonne: Well, from what I've gathered, this guy seems to be a real heavy hitter. Do you have a game plan in line for this guy?
He sets down the profile and re-assumes the hunched over position.
Shields: No.
Yvonne: What?! What do you mean no? You're just going to go in blindly and hope everything comes out ok? What the hell are you thinking?
Shields sits up, looking as if he just had an epiphony.
Shields: I'm thinking clearly. For the first time in a long, long time... I'm thinking clearly.
By this point, Yvonne is staring at him like he's going crazy.
Shields: I'm just going to step between the ropes and do what I do best. That is work on the fly and get the victory by any means necessary.
Shields stands up out of the booth, Yvonne is very surprised that Shields has snapped into this new mood. She stands up after him. A waiter comes up to them holding the bill.
Waiter: Here is your bill, sir.
Shields gives him a glare, then grabs the waiter by the vest and throws him aside. He starts marching towards the door.
Shields: Out of my way. Come on, Yvonne!
Yvonne runs after Shields. She stops him right outside the doors.
Yvonne: What are you doing? Where are you going?
Shields: I'm going to the arena to get ready. Are you coming or not?
Yvonne: Well of course I'm coming but...
He interrupts her.
Shields: Well then get in the car.
He turns to go to the car, but she grabs him on the shoulder and turns him around.
Yvonne: But what if this guy seriously hurts you?
Shields: Don't worry. They don't call me Mr. House Show for nothing.
He grabs her hand and they hurry to the car. They climb into Shields' black Porsche and drive off down the road.
Yvonne: What is wrong with you, Christian? You've hardly said a thing all night.
Shields: I just can't believe that the House Shows are getting discarded. The place that I dominated, gone. In the blink of an eye.
Yvonne: So, what will you do after this next show?
Shields: Well, I suppose I'll move up to the main show and start there. But it's all up in the air right now.
Yvonne: Wait, are you questioning continueing your career?
Shields: Whoa, Yvonne. Don't be putting words in my mouth like that. I never said I might quit. I just said that I may be moving up, I may not. It's all up to the new owners.
Yvonne: Oh, right.
Shields is visibly growing more upset with every word he speaks.
Shields: It's just sort of unsettling that, well, my home in WFWF basically, is getting shut down. What kind of a nickname is "Mr. House Show" when there are no House Shows? And what is to become of the legacy that the Independent Scene left? Is that just going to be blinked out of existance like it never happened? We were the first Tag Team Heritage Cup owners for God's sake!
Yvonne: I'm sure it will all still be there in the record books. WFWF Management isn't going to let all of it go away. Just some of the... boring parts will be left out. Now will you calm yourself down? You're causing a scene!
He begins to collect himself.
Shields: Alright. You're right. They can't strike it from the records.
His cell phone rings. He looks to see who is calling.
Shields: Excuse me for just one second.
He opens the phone and before the other person can even say a word, he shouts...
Shields: STOP CALLING ME! I'm tired of your constant interruptions! Just leave me the hell alone!
He slams the phone shut and does his best to calm down.
Yvonne: Would you get a hold of yourself?
Shields: I'm sorry, but all of these situations I'm in are making me come unglued. I've got all of this stuff hanging over my head and I just need some clarity right now.
Yvonne: Well here a slice of it for you: This is your last House Show match, ever. Now, I don't know if you have ever even seen this guy, but his name is Trace Demon.
She hands him a profile of his opponent. He begins thumbing through it.
Shields: The name sounds familiar, but, I don't really recall the two of us even meeting face to face.
Yvonne: Well, from what I've gathered, this guy seems to be a real heavy hitter. Do you have a game plan in line for this guy?
He sets down the profile and re-assumes the hunched over position.
Shields: No.
Yvonne: What?! What do you mean no? You're just going to go in blindly and hope everything comes out ok? What the hell are you thinking?
Shields sits up, looking as if he just had an epiphony.
Shields: I'm thinking clearly. For the first time in a long, long time... I'm thinking clearly.
By this point, Yvonne is staring at him like he's going crazy.
Shields: I'm just going to step between the ropes and do what I do best. That is work on the fly and get the victory by any means necessary.
Shields stands up out of the booth, Yvonne is very surprised that Shields has snapped into this new mood. She stands up after him. A waiter comes up to them holding the bill.
Waiter: Here is your bill, sir.
Shields gives him a glare, then grabs the waiter by the vest and throws him aside. He starts marching towards the door.
Shields: Out of my way. Come on, Yvonne!
Yvonne runs after Shields. She stops him right outside the doors.
Yvonne: What are you doing? Where are you going?
Shields: I'm going to the arena to get ready. Are you coming or not?
Yvonne: Well of course I'm coming but...
He interrupts her.
Shields: Well then get in the car.
He turns to go to the car, but she grabs him on the shoulder and turns him around.
Yvonne: But what if this guy seriously hurts you?
Shields: Don't worry. They don't call me Mr. House Show for nothing.
He grabs her hand and they hurry to the car. They climb into Shields' black Porsche and drive off down the road.
