Al!
League Member
"Mr. Sullivan will see you now.."
It was a long trip, nothing like the Garden State parkway in March. As always, when something had to be inconvenient, it also had to be as much a pain in the ass as possible.
Small elements of snow can be seen slowly drifting off of the shoulders of Campbell as he enters the room. His rather deliberate walk can be seen to falter as he takes one last look at the secretary before she saunters out of sight.
It doesn't take long for someone with the history of Sullivan to notice.. "Got something caught in your eye Aidan?"
"Just a memory. She reminds me of someone, that's all"
"Finally found a razor too eh, good man. If you ask me the neanderthal look went out in the 90s" Sullivan motions to Campbell in the direction of a sofa to the front left of his desk.
"Along with the commercial real estate market in Boston? Is everything alright Quentin? You look.. frankly like someone's stuck a pole up your ass."
Annoyance builds on Sullivan's face as while trying to regain his composure a glass of water is knocked clear off his desk and hits the floor.
"You're not here to have me comment on that are you?" Sullivan states.
"Glad I'm not the only one then.." retorts Campbell. "What I'm here for is answers. Fortunately for the both of us I'm not necessarily in one of my disruptive moods."
"Good, then the drive helped after all." "I'll have to stick you in a meat locker next time you get rambunctious."
"**** you Sullivan"
"No **** the both of us Aidan". "The bottom line here is I didn't sign your contract... Miles, as his last act in office did and did so without any of us in the office here knowing about it."
"Apparently for some reason you were Craig's last, dying wish for this company. Maybe he connected to the person you are. I've read the contracts, legally you can stay through the whole season. So **** me, **** you, whatever. Either way we're stuck with each other."
Aidan's size 11 workboots, well-trodden in snow find their way to the top of Sullivan's desk...
"Aidan, please don't do that"...
"So from your response I take it you received the letter from my attorney"..... What do we do about this?.... and, before you answer, if you haven't thought about this yet, do so.. very carefully.."
Campbell removes his boots from the desk, leans forward and looks very intently at Sullivan. Sullivan in return, seems slightly uncomfortable with the stare as he leans back into his chair, turns and looks out onto the Boston skyline....
"As for Merritt, I've got Ivy leading a team researching if anything he said holds any water..."
Seconds pass and a smile can almost be heard in Sullivan's voice.
"And it doesn't look like he's realized who he's dealing with."
"I've never liked the guy, he's like a nasty piece of gum you can't get off the bottom of your shoe. If Hornet doesn't show up, at this point -- I don't care...it's Hornet's issue if he wants to win the Ultratitle or not. Then again, maybe Craig sought you out cause he'd know how you'd react to a circumstance like this."
Campbell can't help but smile at this last comment, leans back into the sofa and allows himself a moment of peace...
"So now the question is Quentin, is Craig right? Am I the Aidan he knew or not? The only solace I have in this is you're no better off than I am.. damn it!"
"Sounds like you've got a decision kid. I can't help you there."
Aidan slowly stands. He reaches for and turns Sullivan's chair quickly and leans right into his face.. then speaks softly. So softly in fact that only he and Sullivan can hear...
"So this trip isn't wasted I want you to get where I'm coming from clear as the crystal in this window pane...
I didn't come back to be dicked around...
Hornet's the reason I got into wrestling in the first place....
It's likely I'm risking my life every time I get in the ring...
I'm not playing for second best anymore...
The contract's made.. Me vs the Icon...
I want him.. and I don't care what I have to do to get him...
I don't care anymore...
So either we're going to do this....
Or I'm going to take this into my own hands...
I'll make my own history...
I'll find him..
I'm going to make him tap.
Or I'll die in the ring trying..
I am not going to be dicked around by anyone, ever, again."
With that Campbell stands up slowly, with composure and turns to walk out of the office...
"Before you go Aidan, you may want to take your jacket, you left it here last time you came by... it's in the closet."
Sullivan turns back to the cityscape as Campbell opens the cedared closet and reveals something he hadn't seen in over four years...
Within the closet, alone and on a single hanger is found a leather motorcycle jacket. Emblazoned on the back is the Anarchy Cross logo which symbolized Aidan's first run in NFW...
"So what happens if Hornet no shows and I pay Mr. Merritt a visit in Happy Southern Wrestling land Quentin...?"
"I didn't hear that..."
Doors close and all is quiet in the office..
FTB
It was a long trip, nothing like the Garden State parkway in March. As always, when something had to be inconvenient, it also had to be as much a pain in the ass as possible.
Small elements of snow can be seen slowly drifting off of the shoulders of Campbell as he enters the room. His rather deliberate walk can be seen to falter as he takes one last look at the secretary before she saunters out of sight.
It doesn't take long for someone with the history of Sullivan to notice.. "Got something caught in your eye Aidan?"
"Just a memory. She reminds me of someone, that's all"
"Finally found a razor too eh, good man. If you ask me the neanderthal look went out in the 90s" Sullivan motions to Campbell in the direction of a sofa to the front left of his desk.
"Along with the commercial real estate market in Boston? Is everything alright Quentin? You look.. frankly like someone's stuck a pole up your ass."
Annoyance builds on Sullivan's face as while trying to regain his composure a glass of water is knocked clear off his desk and hits the floor.
"You're not here to have me comment on that are you?" Sullivan states.
"Glad I'm not the only one then.." retorts Campbell. "What I'm here for is answers. Fortunately for the both of us I'm not necessarily in one of my disruptive moods."
"Good, then the drive helped after all." "I'll have to stick you in a meat locker next time you get rambunctious."
"**** you Sullivan"
"No **** the both of us Aidan". "The bottom line here is I didn't sign your contract... Miles, as his last act in office did and did so without any of us in the office here knowing about it."
"Apparently for some reason you were Craig's last, dying wish for this company. Maybe he connected to the person you are. I've read the contracts, legally you can stay through the whole season. So **** me, **** you, whatever. Either way we're stuck with each other."
Aidan's size 11 workboots, well-trodden in snow find their way to the top of Sullivan's desk...
"Aidan, please don't do that"...
"So from your response I take it you received the letter from my attorney"..... What do we do about this?.... and, before you answer, if you haven't thought about this yet, do so.. very carefully.."
Campbell removes his boots from the desk, leans forward and looks very intently at Sullivan. Sullivan in return, seems slightly uncomfortable with the stare as he leans back into his chair, turns and looks out onto the Boston skyline....
"As for Merritt, I've got Ivy leading a team researching if anything he said holds any water..."
Seconds pass and a smile can almost be heard in Sullivan's voice.
"And it doesn't look like he's realized who he's dealing with."
"I've never liked the guy, he's like a nasty piece of gum you can't get off the bottom of your shoe. If Hornet doesn't show up, at this point -- I don't care...it's Hornet's issue if he wants to win the Ultratitle or not. Then again, maybe Craig sought you out cause he'd know how you'd react to a circumstance like this."
Campbell can't help but smile at this last comment, leans back into the sofa and allows himself a moment of peace...
"So now the question is Quentin, is Craig right? Am I the Aidan he knew or not? The only solace I have in this is you're no better off than I am.. damn it!"
"Sounds like you've got a decision kid. I can't help you there."
Aidan slowly stands. He reaches for and turns Sullivan's chair quickly and leans right into his face.. then speaks softly. So softly in fact that only he and Sullivan can hear...
"So this trip isn't wasted I want you to get where I'm coming from clear as the crystal in this window pane...
I didn't come back to be dicked around...
Hornet's the reason I got into wrestling in the first place....
It's likely I'm risking my life every time I get in the ring...
I'm not playing for second best anymore...
The contract's made.. Me vs the Icon...
I want him.. and I don't care what I have to do to get him...
I don't care anymore...
So either we're going to do this....
Or I'm going to take this into my own hands...
I'll make my own history...
I'll find him..
I'm going to make him tap.
Or I'll die in the ring trying..
I am not going to be dicked around by anyone, ever, again."
With that Campbell stands up slowly, with composure and turns to walk out of the office...
"Before you go Aidan, you may want to take your jacket, you left it here last time you came by... it's in the closet."
Sullivan turns back to the cityscape as Campbell opens the cedared closet and reveals something he hadn't seen in over four years...
Within the closet, alone and on a single hanger is found a leather motorcycle jacket. Emblazoned on the back is the Anarchy Cross logo which symbolized Aidan's first run in NFW...
"So what happens if Hornet no shows and I pay Mr. Merritt a visit in Happy Southern Wrestling land Quentin...?"
"I didn't hear that..."
Doors close and all is quiet in the office..
FTB