King Bear
League Member
(FADE IN: Once again we find ourselves in the office of Steve Zestewicz, wrestling agent extraordinaire. One of his newer clients, David Tui – NFW Rookie & Fijian Phenom – is flanked by his entourage and is sitting forward in his seat. Zestewicz’ brow is furrowed, his hands in front of his speechless face, and his cheeks finally become relaxed as he locks eyes with Tui.)
ZESTY: You want to do… what?
TUI: (smiling brightly) Its genius, Stevey! Pure genius.
ZESTY: Did you think this whole plan up yourself?
TUI: Like, one-hundred and fifty percent my idea!
(SCENE: Steve sits up straight, calling attention to himself.)
TUI: Probably two percent Steve’s.
STEVE: (smiling) Its foolproof, bra.
TUA: Come on, suit. Help a bra out, bra.
ZESTY: This will not end well for you. Do you understand that, David?
TUI: Not end well? (standing up, glancing to his posse) Look, Mr. Zestywich; I’ve come a long way to make sure that it does end well for me. I’m going to make damn sure it does end well, for me and nobody else. I think that’s the first thing you need to take into consideration when we’re discussing just exactly how much money you want to make.
ZESTY: How much I want to make? What are you-
TUI: The more I win, the better I do. The better I do, the better NFW does. And when the NFW does better because I’ve sold tickets months ahead of time – I’ll get paid. When I get paid, Mr. Zesty; you’ll get paid. Now, that’s all based on the fact that you stop being a ***** and get with the program!
(SCENE: Zestewicz sits back, thinking to himself in his big, black leather chair. He looks up at all of them, Tui last.)
ZESTY: You’re sure?
TUI: This is the new NFW, with new faces and new rules. Old school wrestling and protocol are dead, Zesty. Dead with the horse they rode in on back in the Great Depression. It’s time to look to the future. Make it happen.
(CUTTO: Zestewicz, now holding a phone, sit in his chair and stares into Tui’s eyes as he leans over the desk. Kua, Tua, and Steve all sit in the comfortable furniture for guests.)
ZESTY: Hey, Barb. It’s Bill Zestewicz, is Mr. Miles around? (pause) Okay, thanks. (whispering to Tui) Lindsay Troy?
TUI: (whispering) **** yeah!
ZESTY: Jason Payne? Dan Ryan?
TUI: (whispering) C’mon, bra. I said anyone!
ZESTY: (back to the other end) Oh, darn. Just missed him, huh? Well… (pause) yeah, I guess I could leave a message. (looking at Tui, who nods) Just tell him that this comes from ‘The King’ David Tui:
TUI: (holding a piece of paper and taking the phone) “As one of the newest members of NFW, I felt it would not be proper to speak out of line, against the management; to let things go as is until told otherwise. However, after watching these past few weeks filled with off-camera garbage and statements that would make rocks look more intelligent than Roseanne, and seeing these so-called champions and legends making these empty threats; I’m not going to be keeping quiet anymore. In the spirit of the new system, I am laying out this challenge: anybody you want, Mr. Miles. Dan Ryan, Jason Payne, Hell; I’ll even teach the Queen a thing or two about royal pain, if you want, Boss. Go ahead; put me up against any of your ‘stars’, and then you can watch how fast they fall. And if you don’t want to lose your soon-to-be-old main attractions, give me a newcomer. A new, fresh face to vandalize and victimize. Either way, the fact remains the same: King Tui’s challenging you, CRAIG MILES – pick me a fight.”
(FADE OUT: Tui slams the phone down, looking at a panicked Bill Zestewicz.)
ZESTY: You want to do… what?
TUI: (smiling brightly) Its genius, Stevey! Pure genius.
ZESTY: Did you think this whole plan up yourself?
TUI: Like, one-hundred and fifty percent my idea!
(SCENE: Steve sits up straight, calling attention to himself.)
TUI: Probably two percent Steve’s.
STEVE: (smiling) Its foolproof, bra.
TUA: Come on, suit. Help a bra out, bra.
ZESTY: This will not end well for you. Do you understand that, David?
TUI: Not end well? (standing up, glancing to his posse) Look, Mr. Zestywich; I’ve come a long way to make sure that it does end well for me. I’m going to make damn sure it does end well, for me and nobody else. I think that’s the first thing you need to take into consideration when we’re discussing just exactly how much money you want to make.
ZESTY: How much I want to make? What are you-
TUI: The more I win, the better I do. The better I do, the better NFW does. And when the NFW does better because I’ve sold tickets months ahead of time – I’ll get paid. When I get paid, Mr. Zesty; you’ll get paid. Now, that’s all based on the fact that you stop being a ***** and get with the program!
(SCENE: Zestewicz sits back, thinking to himself in his big, black leather chair. He looks up at all of them, Tui last.)
ZESTY: You’re sure?
TUI: This is the new NFW, with new faces and new rules. Old school wrestling and protocol are dead, Zesty. Dead with the horse they rode in on back in the Great Depression. It’s time to look to the future. Make it happen.
(CUTTO: Zestewicz, now holding a phone, sit in his chair and stares into Tui’s eyes as he leans over the desk. Kua, Tua, and Steve all sit in the comfortable furniture for guests.)
ZESTY: Hey, Barb. It’s Bill Zestewicz, is Mr. Miles around? (pause) Okay, thanks. (whispering to Tui) Lindsay Troy?
TUI: (whispering) **** yeah!
ZESTY: Jason Payne? Dan Ryan?
TUI: (whispering) C’mon, bra. I said anyone!
ZESTY: (back to the other end) Oh, darn. Just missed him, huh? Well… (pause) yeah, I guess I could leave a message. (looking at Tui, who nods) Just tell him that this comes from ‘The King’ David Tui:
TUI: (holding a piece of paper and taking the phone) “As one of the newest members of NFW, I felt it would not be proper to speak out of line, against the management; to let things go as is until told otherwise. However, after watching these past few weeks filled with off-camera garbage and statements that would make rocks look more intelligent than Roseanne, and seeing these so-called champions and legends making these empty threats; I’m not going to be keeping quiet anymore. In the spirit of the new system, I am laying out this challenge: anybody you want, Mr. Miles. Dan Ryan, Jason Payne, Hell; I’ll even teach the Queen a thing or two about royal pain, if you want, Boss. Go ahead; put me up against any of your ‘stars’, and then you can watch how fast they fall. And if you don’t want to lose your soon-to-be-old main attractions, give me a newcomer. A new, fresh face to vandalize and victimize. Either way, the fact remains the same: King Tui’s challenging you, CRAIG MILES – pick me a fight.”
(FADE OUT: Tui slams the phone down, looking at a panicked Bill Zestewicz.)