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The Complaint Box; I, Battlelines
Topic Started: May 19 2016, 02:34 PM (28 Views)
Azrael Goeren
The MegaStar
Stacy Vandervort exhales loudly as she ducks out of the conference room, pushing a few strands of her blonde hair back behind her ears. Juggling an armful of folders and a late night espresso, she skillfully weaves her way through the narrow hallways and towards her office at the Combat Zone in Boston, Massachusetts.

Since becoming the Dravens’ new Executive Assistant, Stacy’s day-to-day role in the running of EWA has expanded dramatically. She has fully embraced the new assignment and has dove in head first. She just wished she knew about all of the mundane tasks in advance that now fill her day.

Meetings with sponsorships, arena bookings, travel schedules...all vitally important to the longerm stability of EWA but all dreadfully boring.

Still, she’s tackled them all with zeal and gusto. She’s already spearheaded a few new house show tours in the upcoming months, going places that EWA has never been before. Revenue is up. Attendance is skyrocketing. Network subscriptions are through the roof.

She’s humble enough to know that this is not her doing, but she’ll contribute any way she can to keep EWA going strong.

Even if it means making the tough, unpopular decisions like she made at Battlelines.

Such is life.

Stacy almost loses a group of folders but manages to catch them before they slip to the floor. She finally turns a corner and makes her way towards her office which is still being renovated after Gates’ unceremonious departure. She bites down on the coffee cup with her teeth and digs into her pockets for her office keys.

It’s late and it doesn’t look like she’s getting out of here any time soon. Another night of going over budgets, watching new talent videos over day-old Chow Mein and crashing on the office couch. That’ll make it the third day in a row.

She manages to finagle the keys into the lock and give the door a hard push with her shoulder. The door sticks a bit but swings open as she tosses her keys and folders down onto the nearby couch and removes the precariously placed coffee cup from her mouth. Her fingers dance across the wall, blindly groping for the lightswitch she knows is there.

That’s when she hears him.


Excuse me Miss Vandervort but I think I’d like to file a formal complaint.

Stacy freezes at the voice emanating from the darkness. She’s not scared or surprised that an unknown voice called out to her in her own office in the middle of the night. She’s been in this business long enough to expect the unexpected.

No, she remains still as death because of the exact opposite feeling. She instantly recognizes the voice. The confidently twisted German accent is a dead giveaway.

She knows who it is.

And, even more terrifyingly, she knows why he is here. She’s been dreading this encounter since Battlelines. She knew it was coming, a looming dark shadow over her daily routine for the past few days.

That doesn’t make this moment any easier to take in.


Meine liebste, please feel free to turn on the lights. I don’t want this to be uncomfortable for you.

Hesitantly, Stacy continues running her free hand against the wall and finally finds the switch, brightly illuminating the room with fluorescent glory. Sitting at the edge of her desk is Azrael Goeren, his hands folded politely in his lap. He wears a warm smile, one he has perfected over the years to convey ease and relaxation before he brutally strikes.

Goeren is dressed in a royal blue tailored Versace wool suit with matching suede shoes. His blonde hair is pulled back in a neat ponytail and his face still has a handful of butterfly bandages holding back gashes from the Main Event.


Please, let me give you a hand.

Goeren, ever-so-daintily, removes the coffee cup from Stacy’s hand and places it on a coaster on her desk. He politely moves behind the oak desk and pulls her chair out for her, motioning for her to take a seat.

No thank you. I’d rather stand.

Oh come now. I promise I won’t bite.

I’ve heard otherwise.

Fair enough. I just want you to be comfortable.

There is tension in the air. A sticky, nervous cloud that Stacy desperately wants to escape from but defiantely stands her ground. Goeren makes his way back over to the front of the desk and leans up against it, crossing his legs. He does not say a word, he simply continues smiling and staring back at her like a cat toying with a cornered mouse. She keeps her eyes locked on his, knowing that the next move is hers.

Just to let you know Goeren, I can have security up here in no time. So don’t do anything you are going to regret.

Azrael lets out a small laugh, shaking his head.

No, no, no. Starting off with a threat? Miss Vandervort, you have a lot to learn if you want to stay in this position of power for any period of time.

I want you to leave, now. We can have this conversation tomorrow.

Nice. Now you’re getting the hang of it. Push off the confrontation. Give yourself more time to plan and adjust to my appearance here tonight. Have me come back tomorrow when there are more people here and you have a real shot at avoiding any violence.

What do you want from me, Goeren?

Who says I want anything? Maybe I was just in the neighborhood at 2AM and decided to pop in and say gute nacht. Maybe I wanted to drop by and give you some design advice on this office. I mean, pastel blue paint with an oak furniture color scheme? Maybe it's the elitist omnisexual in me talking but I’m pretty sure a color-blind monkey with Down’s Syndrome could have picked out a more interesting pallette.

How did you even get in here?

Gates’ old keys still unlock this office. I stole them from him when he was eating a Pakistani orphan and a McRib sandwich one afternoon at catering. I was sneaking in here and doing...uhm...things...in this office. You’ll probably want to get all of the carpet torn up and have this place fumigated. Some of the things I did in here were just…

Goeren shudders.

Well, let me put it this way. You ever see the movie Pink Flamingos? Ja, like waaaaaaay more disturbing than Pink Flamingos. Do you know how much it costs to bring a donkey over state lines by the way? We should look into giving me a donkey sex show budget. A happy workforce is a productive workforce, afterall. I’ll write that on your notepad so you can remember.

Goeren. Enough.

Vas?

If you’re going to do something...just do it and get it over with. I can take anything you dish out and I promise you I’ll have you on the unemployment line the second I’m out of the hospital. So make your damn move.

The EWA Executive Assistant has had enough of the games. She’s ready for the worst, knowing that it's been coming for days now. Goeren looks shocked, mockingly putting a hand to his chest like he’s deeply offended.

Stacy, what makes you think I would put a hand on you?

Because of what I...because of what happened at Battlelines.

Oh? And what might that be?

You know.

Refresh my memory, darling. All of those chair shots over the years has just completely destroyed my long term cognitive recollection.

Goeren playfully bats his eyes and holds a hand to his ear, clearly wanting to hear Stacy say it herself. To her credit, she does not take the bait and get angry at him. She very calmly and deliberately speaks, taking a step towards the demented German.

Because I had to make the extremely difficult decision to restart the match after you THOUGHT you won the EWA World Heavyweight Championship.

That’s one way of phrasing it. Another way to say it is that I won the EWA World Heavyweight Championship from Chris Kage fair and square until you decided to break out the pinball machine, bend me over the side of it and ass fuck me until it started flashing its lights and blinking HIGH FUCKING SCORE. I hope you popped in another quarter and got another crack at my beautiful buttocks when you stole my title away from me. I’d hate to think you didn’t get your money’s worth.

That’s not what happened and you know it! I…

Stacy takes a deep breath and looks into the steely blue eyes of Azrael Goeren who is seemingly taking a lot of delight out of this conversation.

The referee who counted the three in your match was not the officially assigned referee for that match. Senior Official Abjornson was. As he was incapacitated, the three count by Referee Iley was not legitimate and the match HAD to be restarted. I know it is an unpopular decision. I’ve gotten nothing but hate tweets and horrible emails since I made the call…

Some of that was from me. Signed you up for a LOT of fetish dating sites too. Those should be hitting your email box soon. Your real box too if you play your cards right with those Furry fandom people…

Henrik. Listen to me. No more jokes. I am being totally honest when I tell you that making that call was one of the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life. You earned that EWA World Heavyweight Championship. You’ve turned your entire life around and the fans absolutely adore you. You’ve stood up for EWA on countless occasions and without you we never would have gotten rid of Gates and his corrupt regime. But the truth of the matter is, the rules are the rules and I made the right call. I’m sorry. I really am.

Goeren goes quiet, lowering his head after hearing what Stacy has to say. He sits up from the desk and takes a step towards her, looming over her. He slowly lifts his head up...and gives her a smirk.

I know. I was just hoping you’d offer me a quick apologetic handjob or something to make things better.

Stacy exhales loudly, giving Azrael a quick shove as he tumbles back against the desk, laughing.

So you’re not angry over what happened?

Oh I’m beyond angry. I’m pissed off, irate, exacerbated and emancipated.

I don’t think that’s the right word you wanted to…

BUT I’m not mad at you Stacy, if that’s what you want to hear. I’m mad at myself for letting that son of a bitch Kage get the drop on me like that after you restarted the match. I’m mad at not being able to kick out of Haven’s pin in time. That’s on me. No excuses. I let my guard down and I paid for it. I lost not just the one thing that has eluded me in my career when I literally held it in my hands, but also the EWA Tag Team titles that X and I worked so fucking hard to get in the first place. That’s on me. I lost it all.

Its funny, I used to blame everyone else for those type of fuck-ups in the past. I used to see imaginary conspiracies everywhere and think the world was out to get me. I lashed out and paid for it with wasted years and broken dreams. Now I realize that all those past failures were because I couldn’t accept responsibility for my own shortcomings. I could never get any better because it was never my fault.

I wasn’t ready to be champion then.

I don’t even think I was ready to be champion at Battlelines.

That’s not an easy pill to swallow but here’s the thing. I’m not a defeated man. When you poke and prod a hungry dog and then throw him a steak only to rip it away at the last second and laugh at him for biting the air, the dog doesn’t just lie down and die.

No.

That mangy mutt wants that fucking steak more passionately and violently than ever.

You honestly did me a favor by taking that title away from me, Stacy. You removed a reign that would have begun with a giant question mark and gave me a chance to start a new one the right way.

Defiantly.

Brutally.

Not with a question mark, but with a fucking bold exclamation point.

That’s what I want, Frau Vandervort. When I do win the World Title, I want to do so with absolutely zero confusion about who the best in the world is. I don’t want any asterisks or legitimacy questions. I’ll have that chance very soon, that is after Seton, Smith and I win our way into the Main Event at Path of the Warrior by smacking The Youth around like they owe us hooker money at Battlelines.

So no need to apologize for what you did. It was indeed the right call. And giving me another chance at wiping those smug smiles off the faces of Kage, Haven and Robertson at the next show? That’s the type of decision that gets you an erotic fruit basket sent to your office tomorrow morning. I got these huge 12 inch bananas that you’re going to LOVE. I’ll throw some kiwis in there too, a few slits down the center and we’ve got ourselves a fruit vagina. Best of all worlds.


With the tension in the room deflated, Stacy walks over to her desk and sits down. She gives a genuine laugh and takes a sip of her coffee.

I wish your tag-team partner felt the same way that you did. X-Calibur was not pleased at Battlelines or immediately after it.

Ja, I know. I’ve got the voicemails to prove it. Mein freund is definitely not happy with that fine you brought down on him either, if I were you I’d start wearing a moustache and a sombrero to hide your identity when you go out at night.

I’ll take that under consideration.

Really?

No.

Damn. I even had the fake moustache in my pocket and everything. Time to put it on the cat when I get home.

All joking aside, X is...well...he’s troubled as of late. I don’t know the full story, but he’s been keeping to himself a bit more than usual. I wish I could help him the way that he helped me, and I know I’ll find a way. Just know that he’ll be okay. He always is. He just needs some time to cool down. I don’t think X ever quite grasped the concept of trusting anyone other than me and himself. He’ll get over it, probably by spilling lots of blood. That’s what my pal does the best.


He’s definitely making life difficult for me. I never would have guessed you’d be the rational one out of The Hierarchy.

Azrael lets out a chuckle and sits up on Stacy’s desk, almost taking a provocative, seductive pose with one leg folded over the other in a classic pin-up style. Stacy rolls her eyes as Goeren continues to talk.

I’ve been where you sit and it’s not easy. Trust me when I tell you this, the hardest decisions you have to make are almost always the right ones. If they were easy decisions, you’d be like Gates. And I don’t mean eating handfuls of Miracle Whip while sitting on the toilet reading Catholic School Boys Monthly, I mean you’d be taking the easy way out to save your ass and your job at every turn.

You are nothing like Duane Gates, no matter what some angry or disappointed fans might say. If I can forgive you, so will they. In time. I see the things that Gates is doing to my daughter...to my Grace...and I know my life is going to get far worse before it gets any better. The hatred they both have for me is all-consuming, it's the only thing that gets either of them out of bed every morning.

Gates is feeding on my daughter’s depression, that's the type of disgusting, opportunistic abhorrent scumbag he is. He has the blinders on her. He’s got her listening to his lies at every turn and, honestly, how can she look away? I can’t blame her for thinking that the things he’s telling her are right. Look at what they accomplished together at Battlelines, he has her in line for an EWA Network Championship title shot already and she hasn’t even turned nineteen yet.


I can’t do anything about that, Goeren. Gates has a legitimate manager’s license and unfortunately he had every right to help your daughter during…

I know. I’m not asking you to reverse any other decisions. All I’m saying is that Gates only sees Grace as something to use to get to me. That poor girl has been through...horrible things...and she has no idea that associating with Gates is the worst decision of them all. Do you know how hard it is for me as a parent to sit and watch that? I can’t do it any longer. Gates hates me as much as she does...and I know they won’t stop until I take care of them. Both of them.

Somehow.


Goeren shakes his head despondently.

But I’m not giving up on Grace. No matter what I have to do, my goal is the same. I will save my daughter from this business before she ends up like...me...

It would be easy to walk away right now and let her destroy her life under Gates’ sick influence. Let her make her own mistakes, you know? But I can’t. That goes back to what I said about making the hard decisions. I know what’s right. I made a promise to someone very near to me that I won’t give up on Grace. And I never will.

If I can be saved, so can she.


Stacy leans back in her chair and nods her head in agreement.

Watching what Gates has done to your daughter makes me wonder just what type of toll running a company like this does to a person.

Frau Vandervort, don’t even start down that road. That’s not you. You’ll never end up like that pig. You’re better than that and you proved it at Battlelines. You didn’t have to give me or Seton or Smith another chance at the World Title but you made it right with us after the Main Event. That showed me a lot, and that’s something I am going to take full advantage of.

Kage, Haven and Robertson might think they hold all of the cards going into this one because they think their titles protect them. Its an easy trap to fall into and buy into your own hype. I did that for a majority of my career and all it got me was countless enemies and a false sense of superiority. I look at The Youth and I see them swimming through the same mistakes I made. Maybe that means their salvageable. Maybe that means they’ll have a similar epiphany like I did at some point in their careers.

But it won't be before Battlelines.

It won't be before I grab Haven by his slimy, weasley, loudmouth throat and brainbust him through the steel ring steps.

It won't be before I lock Robertson in the Iron Cross and hear his femur shatter like a broken baseball bat.

And it certainly won't be before I look down and see those glazed over eyes of Chris Kage looking up at me, pleading with me to let him go right before I crash my patent leather boot into the side of his skull for the FIFTH time and knock that greasy Buffalo trash into Coma City on West Chippewa Street.

I might not be able to get along with Seton and Smith for more than an hour before trying to prison shank them both, but that’s all the time we are going to need to get ourselves into the World Championship Match at Path of the Warrior.


The EWA Executive Assistant can only smile. This man, this irredeemable deviant who found acceptance at this late stage of his career, seems as confident and determined as anyone she has ever met in this business. Goeren swings his legs down and hops of the desk, solemnly glancing out the window. He internally reflects upon something, before speaking again in a more quiet tone.

Are you familiar with the idea of Limbo, Fraulein Vandervort?

Church school every Sunday until I was 12.

Ja, I had a very similar upbringing, if you can believe that. I always thought that concept was particularly horrendous. Even though you were a good person at heart, the sins you committed kept you from achieving salvation.

Only recently did I start to understand what that particular religious belief really symbolizes. It’s not about damnation or unjust penance.

It’s about hope.

It shows that everyone can be saved. It just takes time and patience. Maybe that’s what is happening to me right now. Maybe being so close to my dream so many times only to fall short is just God or Fate or the Universe’s way of balancing out the scales for everything I’ve done in the past. Maybe I’m getting closer now than I ever have before because the scales are finally starting to even out.

Maybe after Battlelines, my debt is paid and I’ll be able to leave Limbo.

Then I’ll be ready.

After all of these years and everything I’ve been through, I’ll finally be ready to be the World Heavyweight Champion.

Guten nacht, fraulein. And keep up the good work.


Azrael starts to make his way towards the door, only to be called back almost instantaneously.

Henrik?

Ja?

Why did you come here tonight? I mean, why did you really want to talk to me?

He turns and lets out a deep sigh. He’s fighting something. Something that he doesn’t want to bring out in the open. Perhaps out of fear that it’ll be taken as weakness. Perhaps because he doesn’t want to burden anyone else with what he knows and what it means for those who care about her.

But Stacy Vandervort is different. She has a personal stake in this, a connection that goes far deeper than most. She needs to know. She has a right to know.

No matter how painful it may be for both of them.


I need to talk to you about Jada.
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