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Trading It In


The Godfather
Staff member
Mar 17, 1988
(Hornet walks into his bedroom from the hallway beyond. His face betrays little emotion as he walks into the closet and turns the light on. He turns to the right, passing by a row of suits, and then a selection of shoes. He continues to walk towards the 'back' of the closet, past a collection of wrestling outfits on his right and memorabilia on his left. Right there, in the very back, is what's he looking for. He picks up a heavy steel box before retracing his steps and exiting the closet, without closing the mirrored doors.)

(He lays the steel box on the bed as he fumbles a set of keys from his pocket. The smallest one turns the lock, and after turning four inset dials to their appropriate combination, the box opens. Inside is a collection of documents. Hornet bypasses his birth certificate, grinning slightly as he reflects on the name listed, a secret to a few. He removes the Lloyd's of London insurance policy, the deed to the house, and other assorted policies, titles and deeds. Toward the bottom he picks up a small black box and a manila envelope. He lays these two items on the bed before packing up the rest and placing it back in the heavy box.)

(He grimaces as he opens the envelope and pulls out the contents. A large CSWA logo is emblazoned on the top of the first page, just above the words "Performance Contract." He really doesn't need to read any further, he knows most of it well, but he flips through it anyone. The dollar figure at the bottom, some of the perks, seem ridiculous to even him. But it was a chance to see how far he could push Merritt, at a time when his company seemed in dire straits. Now it seems so long ago...and so meaningless compared to how it seemed then. Hornet shoves the papers back inside the envelope, tucks the small box in his jacket pocket, and heads out the door.)

(His car ends up outside the Merritt Auditorium, which is conveniently attached to CS Enterprises Headquarters. Chad Merritt's office is in the penthouse; but that's not where Hornet's heading. He walks through the revolving door at the front of the tower, and is quickly noticed by security and the secretary. Before they can approach him, he speaks.)

"Hi Marsha. You can call off the dogs, I'm not here for him this time."

(He pulls a piece of paper from the envelope he's carrying and drops his it on the desk in front of her.)

"Send that up to Chad. It's a little reminder of Paragraph 22, Subsection C... don't worry, I've highlighted it."

(Paragraph what? Subsection who?)

"Just remind him that while I may have to appear on television for him a certain number of times this year, it doesn't say that I have to be at the event. If I want, I can 'appear' from home, or Hawaii, or Chad's office... all because he forgot two little words. So tell him either he backs off my agent, or I'll start 'appearing' at the most convenient places I can think of. Got that? Thanks Marsha."

(He spins around and starts to walk away, leaving a somewhat-stunned receptionist at her desk.)

"Oh, and Marsha?"

"Yes, Mr. Hornet?"

"It's no... it's good to see you again."

"You too, Mr. Hornet. Have a nice day."

(Hornet steps out of the car, apparently on a second errand. As he walks towards the doorway on State Street, the door is automatically opened by, of all things, a doorman. It's an uncommon site in Greensboro, North Carolina. Inside, the man behind the counter greets Hornet by name, with a smile. Hornet responds as he pulls the small box from his pocket.)

"Jacques, I need you to take this back for me.

"But, sir..."

"No. I don't need it anymore...not right now."

"But you understand, a customized...."

"It doesn't matter, just take it. Whatever you feel a fair price is, put it on credit for me here. Whatever you think, Jacques, I trust you."

"But sir, I don't...."

"Take your time. There's no rush. Except that you have to take it now."

(Hornet sets the box on top of the glass counter, smiles a weak smile at Jacques and quickly exits the store. As he hops in the car, he peels away, from the small shop with the sign in its window: Schiffman's Jewelers)

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