Post by The Iguana on Mar 13, 2009 18:20:37 GMT -6
(OOC: This would have been a locker room post... but I don't have a locker room yet! Oh well!)
So this was the place…
I’d relied on my PA to scout out the facilities, and we’d discussed what I’d need added to the apparently quite basic and generic locker room provided. Oh well, if I’m honest, it’s nice to have a base… somewhere I can keep up to date with all the goings on, close to the company’s business ventures. You know what this seems like? It seems like a BUSINESS. All I can say is, it’s about bloody time. I’ve worked for complete morons in the past… perhaps this is what I’ve been searching for. I headed in through the main entrance, arriving at a reception desk, alongside my “assistant”, simply known as “Ironfist”. He’s a greedy sod who’ll do anything if you pay him enough… and as a fully-trained wrestler and medical practitioner, I have a bodyguard, doctor, chauffer and dogsbody all in one paycheque. What can I say? I’m a freakin’ genius.
The man behind the desk looked at us with a smile.
Man: Are you a new talent, sir? Is this your wife?
Um… EXCUSE ME?!
Stacey: WHAT?! No… I am the new talent! And this man is… he’s my manager. Okay?
Man: Oh, sorry… I thought…
Stacey (interrupting): Let me guess… that the big muscular man was a wrestler, and I was a frail little tramp on the side? Damn chauvinist…
He looked at me with a “goldfish-esque” expression. I just glared daggers at him, failing to see why I should waste anymore time on this moron. Luckily, Ironfist took the hint... scaring the man with his thick and fierce Ukranian accent.
Ironfist: Look here, IMBECILE… this woman is Stacey Allen, and you’d better show her a bit more respect and acknowledgement… unless you want us to report you for gross incompetence She should be on the room list, so give us our keys and directions… PLEASE!
I kept up my glare on the outside, but chuckled inside to myself, while flashing my backstage pass to the moron. Ironfist, while he was completely eccentric, knew how to get things done. And his voice always amused me, particularly when he called people imbeciles! Hurriedly, the man scrambled for keys and information.
Man: Ah… there’s the keys… it’s down the hall, take a right and then the second left… it should be the fourth door… sorry for the trouble…
Ironfist shook his head.
Ironfist: Imbecile. Erm… Miss Allen, can you take the keys? I don’t really have a free hand…
I chuckled at the sight of him with my bags and suitcases draped all over him and nodded, snatching the keys from the reception man and glaring at him once more, just for good measure. We made our way to my locker room, following the directions he'd given us, and opened it on arrival. And MAN, did it look amazing! I'd contacted my PA to get the place sorted as per my instructions, and DAMN... she had! Beautiful black leather furniture, a 32" plasma TV, Nintendo Wii, Hole posters all over the wall and a BIG-ASSED stereo system... this room was the SHIT, baby! Even a bed in the corner, useful until I got my own place! Ironfist dumped my bags in the corner, and grinned at me.
Ironfist: You like it, Miss Allen?
Stacey: It is PERFECT! Just give me one sec, I have to call Laura...
Laura was my PA. I got out my mobile, and hit speed dial 3.
*ring ring*
Laura: Hello?
Stacey: Hey! Laura! It's Stacey here. Great job with the place!
Laura: Thank you, Miss Allen, I do my best.
Stacey: Yeah, I know! Now listen babe, I'm gonna need to you to get on to the SNW merch salesmen. I want those Dream Killer posters in the stores by just after the pay per view. Oh, and I totally LOVE antagonising the bloody hell out of people, so make sure they sell a set of darts half price with every poster, will make them all sell like hot cakes. I should have enough time to piss people off by then!
Laura: Will do, Miss Allen! Will there be anything else?
Stacey: Yeah, set me up an interview with one of the grunts here. Fairly informal I reckon. Can't be arsed with a big fancy thing... true superstars don't need all that glitz. Anyhow, I'll catch ya later babe. Everything set?
Laura: Yes, very much so.
Stacey: Sick. Later!
I hung up the phone, before looking around the room. So this was my new home? The basecamp where I would plan strategic warfare on all those adamant enough to quell my route to superstardom?
Freakin' BADASS!
I’d relied on my PA to scout out the facilities, and we’d discussed what I’d need added to the apparently quite basic and generic locker room provided. Oh well, if I’m honest, it’s nice to have a base… somewhere I can keep up to date with all the goings on, close to the company’s business ventures. You know what this seems like? It seems like a BUSINESS. All I can say is, it’s about bloody time. I’ve worked for complete morons in the past… perhaps this is what I’ve been searching for. I headed in through the main entrance, arriving at a reception desk, alongside my “assistant”, simply known as “Ironfist”. He’s a greedy sod who’ll do anything if you pay him enough… and as a fully-trained wrestler and medical practitioner, I have a bodyguard, doctor, chauffer and dogsbody all in one paycheque. What can I say? I’m a freakin’ genius.
The man behind the desk looked at us with a smile.
Man: Are you a new talent, sir? Is this your wife?
Um… EXCUSE ME?!
Stacey: WHAT?! No… I am the new talent! And this man is… he’s my manager. Okay?
Man: Oh, sorry… I thought…
Stacey (interrupting): Let me guess… that the big muscular man was a wrestler, and I was a frail little tramp on the side? Damn chauvinist…
He looked at me with a “goldfish-esque” expression. I just glared daggers at him, failing to see why I should waste anymore time on this moron. Luckily, Ironfist took the hint... scaring the man with his thick and fierce Ukranian accent.
Ironfist: Look here, IMBECILE… this woman is Stacey Allen, and you’d better show her a bit more respect and acknowledgement… unless you want us to report you for gross incompetence She should be on the room list, so give us our keys and directions… PLEASE!
I kept up my glare on the outside, but chuckled inside to myself, while flashing my backstage pass to the moron. Ironfist, while he was completely eccentric, knew how to get things done. And his voice always amused me, particularly when he called people imbeciles! Hurriedly, the man scrambled for keys and information.
Man: Ah… there’s the keys… it’s down the hall, take a right and then the second left… it should be the fourth door… sorry for the trouble…
Ironfist shook his head.
Ironfist: Imbecile. Erm… Miss Allen, can you take the keys? I don’t really have a free hand…
I chuckled at the sight of him with my bags and suitcases draped all over him and nodded, snatching the keys from the reception man and glaring at him once more, just for good measure. We made our way to my locker room, following the directions he'd given us, and opened it on arrival. And MAN, did it look amazing! I'd contacted my PA to get the place sorted as per my instructions, and DAMN... she had! Beautiful black leather furniture, a 32" plasma TV, Nintendo Wii, Hole posters all over the wall and a BIG-ASSED stereo system... this room was the SHIT, baby! Even a bed in the corner, useful until I got my own place! Ironfist dumped my bags in the corner, and grinned at me.
Ironfist: You like it, Miss Allen?
Stacey: It is PERFECT! Just give me one sec, I have to call Laura...
Laura was my PA. I got out my mobile, and hit speed dial 3.
*ring ring*
Laura: Hello?
Stacey: Hey! Laura! It's Stacey here. Great job with the place!
Laura: Thank you, Miss Allen, I do my best.
Stacey: Yeah, I know! Now listen babe, I'm gonna need to you to get on to the SNW merch salesmen. I want those Dream Killer posters in the stores by just after the pay per view. Oh, and I totally LOVE antagonising the bloody hell out of people, so make sure they sell a set of darts half price with every poster, will make them all sell like hot cakes. I should have enough time to piss people off by then!
Laura: Will do, Miss Allen! Will there be anything else?
Stacey: Yeah, set me up an interview with one of the grunts here. Fairly informal I reckon. Can't be arsed with a big fancy thing... true superstars don't need all that glitz. Anyhow, I'll catch ya later babe. Everything set?
Laura: Yes, very much so.
Stacey: Sick. Later!
I hung up the phone, before looking around the room. So this was my new home? The basecamp where I would plan strategic warfare on all those adamant enough to quell my route to superstardom?
Freakin' BADASS!
