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+---- Thread: Shots! (/showthread.php?tid=2601)
Shots! - John Samuels - 05-04-2013
This is so...
Fitting?
Embarrassing.
The scene opens with an agitated Fairchild pacing back and forth in an outfit that could be deemed gaudy by even the most tacky-looking of prostitutes. She occasionally stumbles on her massive high heels, much to the delight of Samuels. Through several layers of caked-on makeup, Fairchild’s face becomes increasingly concerned with each step until her ankle finally caves and she falls to the floor with a loud ‘thud.’ Samuels jumps up, clapping loudly and laughing heartily.
Fairchild: Is this really necessary?
Samuels: Of course it’s not, but my gosh is it entertaining.
Fairchild: I don’t get how this could possibly help you in your match. This whole thing is just... foul.
Samuels: Come now! Caramel is new to the roster, I barely know a thing about her, so by doing this I can study her type of behavior.
Fairchild: But I’m not some Jersey slut!
Samuels: Well you certainly look the part! I don’t know if your pea brain can remember far enough back, but it wasn’t too long ago that a relatively unknown rookie named John Samuels exploited the European champion’s lack of preparation to capture the title. I know that I’m vastly more talented than Neonero, but I’ll be damned if I let his mistakes become my own. Caramel is not a threat to me. I know it, you know it, she knows it and Paul Heyman knows it... and that’s why she’s here. She’s a tiny, feeder fish in a tank with great white shark. Is she going to be a full meal? No. Just a light snack until something bigger comes along. It’s rough at the top of the food chain, I tell ya. I somewhat envy you Ann, you’ll never have to worry about being the absolute best thing that a company has to offer. The pressure can be overwhelming. Yup, I envy you.
Fairchild bats her eyelashes.
Fairchild: Who, mo’i?
Samuels: That’s the spirit! Are you ready to do this?
Fairchild: Not in the least. Let’s just get this over with. My parents aren’t going to be happy about this.
The camera cuts to two podiums directly across from each other on a large stage, hundreds of onlookers are seated in the bleachers directly behind a desk which a portly, red-faced old man is seated at.
Old man: Ladies and gentleman, I would like to welcome you all to tonight’s debate. A debate outside our normal spectrum, but I assure you it will be just as riveting. Please welcome tonight’s guests, the esteemed senator from Texas, John Samuels!
Light clapping proceeds John Samuels stepping out on the stage, grinning ear-to-ear and waving to the collection of onlookers.
Samuels: Thank you! Thank you! It is my pleasure to be here.
Samuels takes his place behind the podium and takes a sip from a glass of water. As he straightens out his tie a crew member fits him with a microphone. The camera pans back to the moderator who nods to the camera.
Old man: And now let’s bring out our second guest. Hailing from... Oh my, this can’t be right.
Panicked, the old man holds up a small index card, looking towards the producers. Before anyone can react Fairchild bursts from the curtain in her hideous get-up, a cheap bottle of vodka dangles from one hand as she takes a drag from a cigarette with the other.
Fairchild: That’s right, bitch! I’m from your mom’s box! And moi’s name would be CARAMEL. Like the candy.
Old man: Is this some kind of sick joke? I thought we were here to have a serious discussion about the issues that society faces today.
Fairchild stumbles to the podium and slouches over it, snoring loudly as the crew member attaches a microphone to her top.
Samuels: Indeed! I didn’t realize that this was a New Jersey junior prom!
Fairchild stirs and barely manages to bring her head above the podium.
Fairchild: Stick it up your asses. Let’s do this thing!
Flustered, the old man shuffles some papers and turns his attention to the still smiling John Samuels.
Old man: Mr. Samuels, our first question is for you. It appears that since you began your foray into the world of sports entertainment, that you’ve spent little-to-no time in Texas, where you’ve been elected to serve the people. Your detractors are claiming that you should be forced to resign from your senate seat or give up your position in the XWF, permanently. How would you like to answer these claims?
Samuels: Simply: They are untrue. What my ‘detractors’ fail to realize is that my tenure in the XWF is a direct result of my dream to make it, along with the rest of the country, a better place than we could have imagined it. I have come to unite the people of our great land, using a popular platform to spread the truths of exactly how our government is selling America short, piece-by-piece, to our enemies. Furthermore, how can you critique a strategy in it’s infancy, which has never been attempted? I don’t like to use nicknames given to me by others, but numerous times I’ve heard the term ‘trailblazer’ mentioned when my name has been brought up. Can such high praise really be judged so soon? I think America would be selling itself short if it did.
The crowd briefly begins to clap and whisper amongst themselves. After a short while, the old man begins to speak again.
Old man: Ms... Caramel... The floor is yours for a rebuttal.
Fairchild: I’m not putting my butt on the floor unless you’re paying, big boy. Ten dollars and I’ll show you stuff that’s illegal in six countries.
Old man: Please, Caramel. This is a professional setting. Do you agree, or disagree with Mr. Samuels’ detractors?
Fairchild: You idiot! You can’t agree with a tractor! Nerpppp. Can’t be done.
Old man: Moving right along. The next question is for you, Caramel.
Fairchild: Bring it on, fat-boy. Boy, if I had a nickel for everytime--
Old man: Ahem. You have risen through the ranks quickly. After losing a battle royal and winning only one solo match, against an equally untested commodity, you have been placed in the main event of Monday Night Madness with a title shot on the line. Do you feel like there’s any added pressure to perform at such a young stage in your career?
Fairchild: The only thing I feel pressure to perform is... SHOTS!
Fairchild brings the bottle of cheap vodka to her lips and begins to chug until she falls down backwards, falling fast asleep once more. The camera flashes back to the moderator who throws his stack of papers into the air while shaking his head. He looks directly at Samuels and extends his hand towards him.
Old man: Sir, I appreciate your professionalism here tonight. In all my years of moderating debates, I have never seen such a disgusting spectacle as the one we’ve seen here tonight. I see no point, the winner is clear here, but Mr. Samuels the floor is yours if you would like to add anything to the topic.
Samuels: Certainly. And I thank you for the kind words, sir. As to the pressure of performing to the best of your abilities on the biggest stage of your career so early, I agree that there is an extra bit of effort needed. I can tell you first hand, I was not in the XWF for long when I was thrust into the main event of Monday Night Madness against then champion Neonero. Was I nervous? Sure. But I was confident. Confident that my skills would prove too much for Nero. Much like I’m confident that my skills are going to overwhelm Ms. Caramel this coming monday night. I applaud her willingness to join us here tonight, despite not being of sound mind to hold an intellectual debate. I only hope that she can get her act together before this coming Monday. A match against the most dominant champion in the company in such a stupor could lead to serious humiliation and possible injury. I know that I will go home and say a prayer for her well-being, as I hope you all will.
Old man: Spoken with true class, and grace. That’s all the time we have tonight, folks. Please join us again, when Senator Samuels returns with his thoughts on his next opponent. Until then, it’s been a pleasure.
The camera fades as Samuels walks up the moderator, offering a handshake. Behind them, two crew members are hauling off the snoring Fairchild.