Post by Zack Fantana on Jan 20, 2017 2:46:01 GMT -5
"Okay, Bobby, this is getting ridiculous. I'm pretty sure someone just threw ten dollars in my bag because they thought I was a living statue performer."
"Shut up and don't move."
"Are you sure that you set the timer?"
"Of course I did."
With one arm thrown over Bobby Franchise's shoulder and the other holding the Resilience Championship, Zack Fantana stared at the camera on the tripod with an unnatural grin plastered across his face. He dared not blink, lest Bobby would have to reset the camera all over again.
Moments passed.
"So how do I set the timer?"
Fantana spoke through gritted teeth.
"You're kidding me, right?"
Zack's eyes darted to the side. He figured it was a bad omen that all he could hear in the awkward silence was Bobby scratching his bald head.
"How do you not know how to work your own camera? Don't you have like seventeen grandchildren for tech support?"
Just as Fantana completed that thought, the camera flashed. Bobby smiled sheepishly as Fantana shook his head and walked over to the tripod to collect the camera.
"You want me to drop this off at Costco?"
"No, it's fine. I'll get it developed later."
Bobby attempted to rein the camera in but Zack wouldn't let go.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, it's no rush, really."
Bobby pulled the camera from Zack's grip and began to put it into his bag, only to look up to see Fantana staring at him.
"This is about the photo of Benny I have in my trophy room, isn't it?"
"Ha! Psshh! Nah. I don't care. That's whatever. Did I tell you about the meeting with the marketing firm? They want me to do some endorsements."
"You? You couldn't sell a warm bowl of soup to a man with hypothermia."
"Please. I'd have them eating out of the palm of my hand."
Bobby's face would suggest he claim was dubious at best.
"Look, I know that's not how soup works. But really, I could sell anything. People like me, Bobby."
"No, no. Trust is all in the eyes. There's something off about yours."
Zack furrowed his brow and slowly slid his sunglasses down.
"Look, Billy Mays was from Pittsburgh. You know, the greatest pitchman in the world. I could be his son for all you know."
"Try me."
Zack clasped his hands together and thought for a moment. Soon enough, he smiled confidently and clapped his hands.
"I've got it. Have you ever thought about venturing into real estate?"
Bobby clutched his gut with a hearty laugh.
"You don't actually expect me to buy Rico's Gym, do you? That place is a sty. Why don't you go to Austin Gale? He has money to throw around."
"We're on a break. Look, just hear me out. There's some perks here. For one, you'd get the opportunity to do your favorite thing which is boss people around."
"I'm listening..."
"Secondly, millennials will literally pay you to beat the piss out of them."
Bobby stroked his goatee and slowly nodded his head.
"And finally, in what may be the most important perk of all, Benny Stevens will no longer be packing his sleeping bag when he comes to train with you."
A glimmer danced through Bobby's eyes as if the world finally made sense to him.
"Mother of God."
Leaning against his car, Zack Fantana nonchalantly scrolled through his phone with his thumb. His eyes darted back and forth in an effort to keep up with his fingers. Without even looking up from the phone, he began to speak.
"Looks like there's been some rumblings lately that James Radford was involved in an altercation with his manager Bobby Benson."
The phone blooped before Zack stuffed it into his jeans pocket.
"It's all over the Internet. You really should hire a publicist to keep this kind of stuff out of the news, James."
He began to walk through the parking lot, only to see a familiar Weisman Global marketing firm bumper sticker. Zack pointed out the sticker to the camera.
"Just not them."
As Fantana slowed his gait, the camera moved in front of him.
"So tell me, Radford, am I supposed to believe that after five years of mediocrity, it took Hunter Storms cracking you across the skull with a steel chair for you to finally wake up and realize you're just a puppet on a string? All you are is a dressed-down version of The Franchinger. Sure, you've got a little more hair and a few less fingers up your asshole - you know, because Southern values - but you have a lot in common otherwise. Both of you dance when you're told to dance. The James Radford Show might just be the world's most elaborate ventriloquist act, but I'm afraid Bobby Benson was too ambitious for his own skill set, because I can still see his mouth moving when you speak."
Finally arriving at his destination, Fantana stopped in front of a shoddily constructed stand with a blue backdrop.
"It's kind of sad, if I'm being honest. Do you think I'd allow some old man named Bobby to lord over me during my promo time? Hell no. He's waiting all the way back in the car."
Jump cut to Fantana's MKZ where we find Bobby Franchise nestled into the back seat, swaddled in a blanket and sleeping like a baby. A note is posted on the door reading, "Please don't break the window. The air conditioning is on and he's listening to his favorite music."
We return to Zack at the stand, where the wind whips the backdrop around wildly.
"I've been binge-watching the James Radford Show lately and I've got to say that there's something I've gotten hung up. Something you said that before your bout with Lawson: 'Bobby Benson is my manager, and he’s going to do what he thinks is going to get me ahead, right or wrong, and I’m going to have to live with the consequences whether I want to or not.'"
Fantana ran his hand through his hair as he allowed Radford's words to marinate.
"Do you understand how pathetic that sounds, James? You may not win the Alpha Cup at the end of all of this, but if you call now, we'll send you the Beta Cuck trophy for absolutely free."
The words "Operators are standing by" splashed across the screen along with a scrolling 800 number. In the meantime, Zack leaned over and grabbed a silver-plated plastic trophy of a man hover-handing a woman, placing it on the counter top in front of him.
James Radford's name was engraved on the bottom under the heading "Beta Cuck 2017 Recipient".
"We've been through this all once before with Benson. You know what he's about. It's like you sold your soul to the devil and you were surprised when the check bounced. Last time around when Bobby interfered in your match with Kimitsu Zombie, you were all too willing to forgive and forget. Other people may believe that your altercation with Benson after Massacre will be the turning point in your career. They may think that it's just another in a long line of missteps by Bobby Benson that finally made you snap - the straw that broke the camel's back. I'm sure you'll say, 'This time it's different'. The problem is that's probably what you've been telling everyone for the past five years. I guess I have a hard time believing a guy like you, Radford. The history just doesn't add up. It seems to me that the straw could never break your back because you never had a backbone to begin with. And that's a damn shame because you've got a lot of untapped potential inside of you. You're a gifted athlete, but you've just got no fire in you.
Maybe this is the spark that you needed all along. Maybe Hunter Storms was the man who made it all click for you. Maybe the Alpha Cup is the fairy tale story that makes James Radford into a household name. Maybe you're that underdog story everybody can believe in after all. Maybe, maybe, maybe."
Zack touched his index finger to his lips as if in deep thought.
"Me, I don't believe in any of that. I don't think Cinderella's slippers come in your size, James Radford.
Do you want to know what I think?
I think old habits die hard. I think that bit of fire that saw you push Benson around a bit has already been extinguished, because if history is an indicator, you can't sustain that kind of passion. I think that just like a battered wife, you'll keep going back to Bobby Benson to the detriment of your own career. I know you don't like speaking out of turn, but as your colleague I want to ensure you feel safe, so when we step into that ring, just blink three times if you want me to call the police."
The number for a domestic abuse hotline scrolled across the screen.
"James, I'm sure that coming off of your DQ win, you feel you've got a lot of prove in the semi-finals. You probably feel like you can do this all on your own. You probably feel the need to prove that you belong.
Well, I've still got some shit left to prove in this tournament too, I'm afraid. You see, about seven weeks ago, I took it upon myself as the Resilience Champion to correct some misconceptions about the championship hierarchy in this company. This is my opportunity to prove impart that knowledge onto a Paramount competitor first hand. As the last remaining Resilience division competitor in the Alpha Cup tournament, I'm carrying the reputation of the division on my shoulders. At the end of the day, that's just a warm-up to Executive Action where I'll be carrying the weight of the entire company on my shoulders as I look to ensure that the right man remains at the helm. All in all, it's going to be a busy couple of weeks for me, but it should come as no surprise that the Resilience Champion is the hardest working man in this company. This hasn't changed during my campaign in the Alpha Cup tournament. And what is our beloved Paramount Champion Stoker doing at Massacre #6? Holding his dick waiting on the next contender, just as I said he would be.
Ultimately, that's the difference between you and me, Radford. I speak the truth, unafraid of the consequences, while you tiptoe around people because you're afraid that you'll hurt their feelings. I'm sure you and Benson will patch things up in no time at all and you'll be back to being everybody's favorite doormat soon enough. As for me, it's time for me to prove that not only am I the class of the Resilience division, I'm the class of this entire company."
As the wind rippled the backdrop, Zack walked off back towards his car muttering something about "lousy production value".
"Shut up and don't move."
"Are you sure that you set the timer?"
"Of course I did."
With one arm thrown over Bobby Franchise's shoulder and the other holding the Resilience Championship, Zack Fantana stared at the camera on the tripod with an unnatural grin plastered across his face. He dared not blink, lest Bobby would have to reset the camera all over again.
Moments passed.
"So how do I set the timer?"
Fantana spoke through gritted teeth.
"You're kidding me, right?"
Zack's eyes darted to the side. He figured it was a bad omen that all he could hear in the awkward silence was Bobby scratching his bald head.
"How do you not know how to work your own camera? Don't you have like seventeen grandchildren for tech support?"
Just as Fantana completed that thought, the camera flashed. Bobby smiled sheepishly as Fantana shook his head and walked over to the tripod to collect the camera.
"You want me to drop this off at Costco?"
"No, it's fine. I'll get it developed later."
Bobby attempted to rein the camera in but Zack wouldn't let go.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, it's no rush, really."
Bobby pulled the camera from Zack's grip and began to put it into his bag, only to look up to see Fantana staring at him.
"This is about the photo of Benny I have in my trophy room, isn't it?"
"Ha! Psshh! Nah. I don't care. That's whatever. Did I tell you about the meeting with the marketing firm? They want me to do some endorsements."
"You? You couldn't sell a warm bowl of soup to a man with hypothermia."
"Please. I'd have them eating out of the palm of my hand."
Bobby's face would suggest he claim was dubious at best.
"Look, I know that's not how soup works. But really, I could sell anything. People like me, Bobby."
"No, no. Trust is all in the eyes. There's something off about yours."
Zack furrowed his brow and slowly slid his sunglasses down.
"Look, Billy Mays was from Pittsburgh. You know, the greatest pitchman in the world. I could be his son for all you know."
"Try me."
Zack clasped his hands together and thought for a moment. Soon enough, he smiled confidently and clapped his hands.
"I've got it. Have you ever thought about venturing into real estate?"
Bobby clutched his gut with a hearty laugh.
"You don't actually expect me to buy Rico's Gym, do you? That place is a sty. Why don't you go to Austin Gale? He has money to throw around."
"We're on a break. Look, just hear me out. There's some perks here. For one, you'd get the opportunity to do your favorite thing which is boss people around."
"I'm listening..."
"Secondly, millennials will literally pay you to beat the piss out of them."
Bobby stroked his goatee and slowly nodded his head.
"And finally, in what may be the most important perk of all, Benny Stevens will no longer be packing his sleeping bag when he comes to train with you."
A glimmer danced through Bobby's eyes as if the world finally made sense to him.
"Mother of God."
Leaning against his car, Zack Fantana nonchalantly scrolled through his phone with his thumb. His eyes darted back and forth in an effort to keep up with his fingers. Without even looking up from the phone, he began to speak.
"Looks like there's been some rumblings lately that James Radford was involved in an altercation with his manager Bobby Benson."
The phone blooped before Zack stuffed it into his jeans pocket.
"It's all over the Internet. You really should hire a publicist to keep this kind of stuff out of the news, James."
He began to walk through the parking lot, only to see a familiar Weisman Global marketing firm bumper sticker. Zack pointed out the sticker to the camera.
"Just not them."
As Fantana slowed his gait, the camera moved in front of him.
"So tell me, Radford, am I supposed to believe that after five years of mediocrity, it took Hunter Storms cracking you across the skull with a steel chair for you to finally wake up and realize you're just a puppet on a string? All you are is a dressed-down version of The Franchinger. Sure, you've got a little more hair and a few less fingers up your asshole - you know, because Southern values - but you have a lot in common otherwise. Both of you dance when you're told to dance. The James Radford Show might just be the world's most elaborate ventriloquist act, but I'm afraid Bobby Benson was too ambitious for his own skill set, because I can still see his mouth moving when you speak."
Finally arriving at his destination, Fantana stopped in front of a shoddily constructed stand with a blue backdrop.
"It's kind of sad, if I'm being honest. Do you think I'd allow some old man named Bobby to lord over me during my promo time? Hell no. He's waiting all the way back in the car."
Jump cut to Fantana's MKZ where we find Bobby Franchise nestled into the back seat, swaddled in a blanket and sleeping like a baby. A note is posted on the door reading, "Please don't break the window. The air conditioning is on and he's listening to his favorite music."
We return to Zack at the stand, where the wind whips the backdrop around wildly.
"I've been binge-watching the James Radford Show lately and I've got to say that there's something I've gotten hung up. Something you said that before your bout with Lawson: 'Bobby Benson is my manager, and he’s going to do what he thinks is going to get me ahead, right or wrong, and I’m going to have to live with the consequences whether I want to or not.'"
Fantana ran his hand through his hair as he allowed Radford's words to marinate.
"Do you understand how pathetic that sounds, James? You may not win the Alpha Cup at the end of all of this, but if you call now, we'll send you the Beta Cuck trophy for absolutely free."
The words "Operators are standing by" splashed across the screen along with a scrolling 800 number. In the meantime, Zack leaned over and grabbed a silver-plated plastic trophy of a man hover-handing a woman, placing it on the counter top in front of him.
James Radford's name was engraved on the bottom under the heading "Beta Cuck 2017 Recipient".
"We've been through this all once before with Benson. You know what he's about. It's like you sold your soul to the devil and you were surprised when the check bounced. Last time around when Bobby interfered in your match with Kimitsu Zombie, you were all too willing to forgive and forget. Other people may believe that your altercation with Benson after Massacre will be the turning point in your career. They may think that it's just another in a long line of missteps by Bobby Benson that finally made you snap - the straw that broke the camel's back. I'm sure you'll say, 'This time it's different'. The problem is that's probably what you've been telling everyone for the past five years. I guess I have a hard time believing a guy like you, Radford. The history just doesn't add up. It seems to me that the straw could never break your back because you never had a backbone to begin with. And that's a damn shame because you've got a lot of untapped potential inside of you. You're a gifted athlete, but you've just got no fire in you.
Maybe this is the spark that you needed all along. Maybe Hunter Storms was the man who made it all click for you. Maybe the Alpha Cup is the fairy tale story that makes James Radford into a household name. Maybe you're that underdog story everybody can believe in after all. Maybe, maybe, maybe."
Zack touched his index finger to his lips as if in deep thought.
"Me, I don't believe in any of that. I don't think Cinderella's slippers come in your size, James Radford.
Do you want to know what I think?
I think old habits die hard. I think that bit of fire that saw you push Benson around a bit has already been extinguished, because if history is an indicator, you can't sustain that kind of passion. I think that just like a battered wife, you'll keep going back to Bobby Benson to the detriment of your own career. I know you don't like speaking out of turn, but as your colleague I want to ensure you feel safe, so when we step into that ring, just blink three times if you want me to call the police."
The number for a domestic abuse hotline scrolled across the screen.
"James, I'm sure that coming off of your DQ win, you feel you've got a lot of prove in the semi-finals. You probably feel like you can do this all on your own. You probably feel the need to prove that you belong.
Well, I've still got some shit left to prove in this tournament too, I'm afraid. You see, about seven weeks ago, I took it upon myself as the Resilience Champion to correct some misconceptions about the championship hierarchy in this company. This is my opportunity to prove impart that knowledge onto a Paramount competitor first hand. As the last remaining Resilience division competitor in the Alpha Cup tournament, I'm carrying the reputation of the division on my shoulders. At the end of the day, that's just a warm-up to Executive Action where I'll be carrying the weight of the entire company on my shoulders as I look to ensure that the right man remains at the helm. All in all, it's going to be a busy couple of weeks for me, but it should come as no surprise that the Resilience Champion is the hardest working man in this company. This hasn't changed during my campaign in the Alpha Cup tournament. And what is our beloved Paramount Champion Stoker doing at Massacre #6? Holding his dick waiting on the next contender, just as I said he would be.
Ultimately, that's the difference between you and me, Radford. I speak the truth, unafraid of the consequences, while you tiptoe around people because you're afraid that you'll hurt their feelings. I'm sure you and Benson will patch things up in no time at all and you'll be back to being everybody's favorite doormat soon enough. As for me, it's time for me to prove that not only am I the class of the Resilience division, I'm the class of this entire company."
As the wind rippled the backdrop, Zack walked off back towards his car muttering something about "lousy production value".