Post by Static on Dec 11, 2005 21:43:23 GMT -5
STATIC: Alright, where is he, Fleming...
(Open up, peel out, fade in. Static and Bill Fleming, together again. Both are properly dressed for the Edmonton winter in jeans, sweaters and jackets. Static's mask, which shows off a little bit of his lower cheek, cannot hide a little bit of facial hair growth, perhaps a result of depression thanks to his recent fall from grace. It's worth noting that Static didn't refer to Fleming as "the Mayor," he called him "Fleming." Static's pacing, a disturbed, impatient pace. Fleming's five feet away, dribbling a basketball on the floor of the airport terminal that they're waiting in.)
STATIC: You said he'd be here. Don't tell me this is another screwup.
FLEMING: What? He's coming in from Cleveland, it says there right on the screen. Cleveland, 6:15pm. And don't give me this about screwing up. (mumbling) I didn't get pinned by a rook last week.
STATIC: I'm sorry... the Mayor? I wouldn't have been pinned by the rook, if say, you had, y'know, done your job and came in when you got the signal. Or have you forgotten the signal now? What's more, I hadn't gotten pinned by a rook if you hadn't had be booked again three of 'em. I'm starting to thi--
FLEMING: There he goes!
(Through a crowd of people, Fleming's managed to point out the only one in the bunch who stands 6'3," weighs 245, with a shiny egghead, wearing a suit and tie. Indeed, it's NAPW's very own Rex Caliber, who's noticed Static but paid no mind to the Mayor, running away from Static and to the Nexus One like he's just seen a rockstar. As the two parties approach one another, Fleming tosses Caliber his basketball.)
CALIBER: (whips out a Sharpie, which he seems to keep all-too-handy, and quickly signs the ball for Fleming) Here ya go, kid. Stay in school. (turns to Static) What's up, man?
FLEMING: (looking at the ball with confusion) Hey, bud. I'm no kid, I'm the best public official this federation's got to offer. Manager of the former Provincial Champion here, the name's Bill Fleming, but you can call me--
STATIC: Caliber. What took you?
CALIBER: The times are a-changin', Static. Security gave me hell. I hate traveling by plane there days. (Caliber seems to notice the tension between Static and a currently fuming the Mayor, and tries to diffuse the situation.) So, what'll it be, anyway? Are we training, scouting, combing the airport lounge for some dames?
STATIC: I trudged my car through seven inches of Albertan snow to pick you up and train, bub. My car's in E lot, it's a long walk. Let's talk strategy on the way.
CALIBER: (grins) Sounds like a gameplan, cowboy. (motions to Fleming) Does he train?
STATIC: (acknowledging Fleming's presence for the first time in what seems like ages) When he wants to, I suppose. Seems like he likes getting his head knocked in by Ravager but can't remember when to interfere in matches against high-flying rookies. It's a shame, Caliber. You and I are two of the biggest stars this federation's got to offer, and we're facing De-crap. We'd be going for the tag belts if this guy knew how to manage.
(The Mayor's humiliated and speechless. Caliber's not exactly one to side with a guy like him under any circumstances, but even he's anxious to change the subject.)
CALIBER: Ah... alright. Let's get to your car.
(A few minutes later... Static and Caliber are walking side-by-side through the Edmonton International Airport, discussing strategy. Gone is the trademark Static animation that you would've expected from this type of discussion a month ago, the man's all business now. Fleming, munching on a Cinnabon, walks a step behind, trying to keep up with the rapid pace of the other two.)
CALIBER: Well, I understand that you aren't exactly undefeated against the little guy, Diamond. But, it was a four-way, so flukes can happen.
STATIC: (half to Fleming, half to Caliber) Damn right. I haven't seen much film of them myself, save for Black Thursday. What do you recommend?
CALIBER: Well, Monday ends their "fluke wins versus Static" streak at one. Ax has some amateur wrestling skills, but he isn't impressing me any. I've seen better stuff from Olympic rejects ten years past their prime. Diamond, I figure, is the weak link. Take out the legs, he can't do any hurracanranas, any top-rope moves. He sure as hell won't be able to get you with that Diamondsault like he did last week.
STATIC: Accidents happen. I don't get beaten by kids...
(Static looks at the Mayor, who's staring at him. Both realize the hypocrisy of Static mentioning that "accidents happen." Static's expression, though, doesn't seem to change for more than a second.)
STATIC: Yeah. I don't get beaten by kids on consecutive weeks, Caliber.
CALIBER: Heh. Yeah. (uncomfortable) So, I figure that in the event that we're like, the most dominating tag team in NAPW history on Monday, I figure we'll need a kick-ass name to go along with it. So try this on for size, huh: Static Electricity. What about that, huh? I bet you wish you'd thought that up. If there's one thing the Nexus One can do besides win wrestling matches, it's selling out the arena... damn right.
STATIC: (cocked eyebrow. that's the kind of thing Static would've annoyed someone with a month ago) Yeah... IF we're dominating. I've never been much of a tag-teamer, Caliber.
FLEMING: (mumbling) Try to take on two guys at once...
CALIBER: Neither have I. Can't really trust anyone here, especially, being new and all. Plus, that bye in the TV Title tournament I've got going. And hey, just cos you fell from the Provincial Rankings, don't be eyeballing that TV Title. It's mine. My time's here, I need some gold around this waist.
STATIC: Huh, don't worry, bub. You, or that belt, aren't close to my level yet. And you might want to hold off on that Static Electricity stuff; I don't really get in the mood too often to carry kids like you.
(Static and Caliber stop for a second, and stand face-to-face. Could they be coming to blows, right here in the airport? How will that impact the chemistry on Monday? Finally, we remember that the Mayor's here, too, and he certainly doesn't want any of this. He steps between the two.)
FLEMING: Hey, guys! Guys! Decap, remember? Hold off on that for later, there's a match to win on Monday.
(Static pays no mind to the Mayor, still staring at the Nexus One. Rex, using better judgment over testosterone, wisely backs off.)
CALIBER: Good call, Fleming. Static, let's get to steppin'. E lot's right outside. (remembering) Oh, damn, man! We left Ronny at the gate! He's going to be so pissed. Let me go get him, I'll be back in a bit...
FLEMING: Rex! Hey!
(Too late. The Nexus One is long gone, leaving the formerly harmonious partnership of the Mayor and Static staring uncomfortably at each other again.)
With permission and the big help of Rex Caliber.
(Open up, peel out, fade in. Static and Bill Fleming, together again. Both are properly dressed for the Edmonton winter in jeans, sweaters and jackets. Static's mask, which shows off a little bit of his lower cheek, cannot hide a little bit of facial hair growth, perhaps a result of depression thanks to his recent fall from grace. It's worth noting that Static didn't refer to Fleming as "the Mayor," he called him "Fleming." Static's pacing, a disturbed, impatient pace. Fleming's five feet away, dribbling a basketball on the floor of the airport terminal that they're waiting in.)
STATIC: You said he'd be here. Don't tell me this is another screwup.
FLEMING: What? He's coming in from Cleveland, it says there right on the screen. Cleveland, 6:15pm. And don't give me this about screwing up. (mumbling) I didn't get pinned by a rook last week.
STATIC: I'm sorry... the Mayor? I wouldn't have been pinned by the rook, if say, you had, y'know, done your job and came in when you got the signal. Or have you forgotten the signal now? What's more, I hadn't gotten pinned by a rook if you hadn't had be booked again three of 'em. I'm starting to thi--
FLEMING: There he goes!
(Through a crowd of people, Fleming's managed to point out the only one in the bunch who stands 6'3," weighs 245, with a shiny egghead, wearing a suit and tie. Indeed, it's NAPW's very own Rex Caliber, who's noticed Static but paid no mind to the Mayor, running away from Static and to the Nexus One like he's just seen a rockstar. As the two parties approach one another, Fleming tosses Caliber his basketball.)
CALIBER: (whips out a Sharpie, which he seems to keep all-too-handy, and quickly signs the ball for Fleming) Here ya go, kid. Stay in school. (turns to Static) What's up, man?
FLEMING: (looking at the ball with confusion) Hey, bud. I'm no kid, I'm the best public official this federation's got to offer. Manager of the former Provincial Champion here, the name's Bill Fleming, but you can call me--
STATIC: Caliber. What took you?
CALIBER: The times are a-changin', Static. Security gave me hell. I hate traveling by plane there days. (Caliber seems to notice the tension between Static and a currently fuming the Mayor, and tries to diffuse the situation.) So, what'll it be, anyway? Are we training, scouting, combing the airport lounge for some dames?
STATIC: I trudged my car through seven inches of Albertan snow to pick you up and train, bub. My car's in E lot, it's a long walk. Let's talk strategy on the way.
CALIBER: (grins) Sounds like a gameplan, cowboy. (motions to Fleming) Does he train?
STATIC: (acknowledging Fleming's presence for the first time in what seems like ages) When he wants to, I suppose. Seems like he likes getting his head knocked in by Ravager but can't remember when to interfere in matches against high-flying rookies. It's a shame, Caliber. You and I are two of the biggest stars this federation's got to offer, and we're facing De-crap. We'd be going for the tag belts if this guy knew how to manage.
(The Mayor's humiliated and speechless. Caliber's not exactly one to side with a guy like him under any circumstances, but even he's anxious to change the subject.)
CALIBER: Ah... alright. Let's get to your car.
(A few minutes later... Static and Caliber are walking side-by-side through the Edmonton International Airport, discussing strategy. Gone is the trademark Static animation that you would've expected from this type of discussion a month ago, the man's all business now. Fleming, munching on a Cinnabon, walks a step behind, trying to keep up with the rapid pace of the other two.)
CALIBER: Well, I understand that you aren't exactly undefeated against the little guy, Diamond. But, it was a four-way, so flukes can happen.
STATIC: (half to Fleming, half to Caliber) Damn right. I haven't seen much film of them myself, save for Black Thursday. What do you recommend?
CALIBER: Well, Monday ends their "fluke wins versus Static" streak at one. Ax has some amateur wrestling skills, but he isn't impressing me any. I've seen better stuff from Olympic rejects ten years past their prime. Diamond, I figure, is the weak link. Take out the legs, he can't do any hurracanranas, any top-rope moves. He sure as hell won't be able to get you with that Diamondsault like he did last week.
STATIC: Accidents happen. I don't get beaten by kids...
(Static looks at the Mayor, who's staring at him. Both realize the hypocrisy of Static mentioning that "accidents happen." Static's expression, though, doesn't seem to change for more than a second.)
STATIC: Yeah. I don't get beaten by kids on consecutive weeks, Caliber.
CALIBER: Heh. Yeah. (uncomfortable) So, I figure that in the event that we're like, the most dominating tag team in NAPW history on Monday, I figure we'll need a kick-ass name to go along with it. So try this on for size, huh: Static Electricity. What about that, huh? I bet you wish you'd thought that up. If there's one thing the Nexus One can do besides win wrestling matches, it's selling out the arena... damn right.
STATIC: (cocked eyebrow. that's the kind of thing Static would've annoyed someone with a month ago) Yeah... IF we're dominating. I've never been much of a tag-teamer, Caliber.
FLEMING: (mumbling) Try to take on two guys at once...
CALIBER: Neither have I. Can't really trust anyone here, especially, being new and all. Plus, that bye in the TV Title tournament I've got going. And hey, just cos you fell from the Provincial Rankings, don't be eyeballing that TV Title. It's mine. My time's here, I need some gold around this waist.
STATIC: Huh, don't worry, bub. You, or that belt, aren't close to my level yet. And you might want to hold off on that Static Electricity stuff; I don't really get in the mood too often to carry kids like you.
(Static and Caliber stop for a second, and stand face-to-face. Could they be coming to blows, right here in the airport? How will that impact the chemistry on Monday? Finally, we remember that the Mayor's here, too, and he certainly doesn't want any of this. He steps between the two.)
FLEMING: Hey, guys! Guys! Decap, remember? Hold off on that for later, there's a match to win on Monday.
(Static pays no mind to the Mayor, still staring at the Nexus One. Rex, using better judgment over testosterone, wisely backs off.)
CALIBER: Good call, Fleming. Static, let's get to steppin'. E lot's right outside. (remembering) Oh, damn, man! We left Ronny at the gate! He's going to be so pissed. Let me go get him, I'll be back in a bit...
FLEMING: Rex! Hey!
(Too late. The Nexus One is long gone, leaving the formerly harmonious partnership of the Mayor and Static staring uncomfortably at each other again.)
With permission and the big help of Rex Caliber.