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Deja Vu (Fuck You); featuring Chris Kage and Corey Collins
Topic Started: May 25 2016, 07:50 PM (28 Views)
Haven
EWA CEO, Majority Owner
“reminders, they are not reluctant
so stop me if you’ve heard this one before…”


May 24th, 2016
HK Academy
Buffalo, NY


“You’re not gonna like this.”

Chris Kage burst into the office at HK Academy, where Alexander Haven had been sitting at the one and only desk they shared. Neither of them spent much time doing the type of work that would necessitate a desk, as they had lawyers and business managers for the mundane aspects of owning and running your own professional wrestling academy - so upon Haven’s return to being an active partner in the business, neither had seen it necessary to crowd the office further with another desk. More or less, the office was a private hangout for the two of them, and the ashtrays full of joints and empty Labatt Blue bottles scattered around the room reflected that.

Mounted on the wall in protective cases were titles both had one throughout their illustrious careers. World Championships, secondary titles from various organizations, and most recently of all - the EWA World Tag Team Championships. The belts sat in a case mounted on the wall, adjacent to the one and only EWA World Heavyweight Championship belonging to Chris Kage. The real belt - not the fraud Sinnocence carried around during her “reign” as champion.

Kage, clad in jeans and an HK Academy t-shirt, slapped an envelope down on the table in front of Haven as he took a seat in one of the chairs across the desk. Haven, also wearing a similar outfit of jeans and a the latest Youth t-shirt, barely acknowledged his presence as his attention remained focused on the flat screen TV mounted on the wall - currently displaying a match between himself and Grady Smith, for the NYSWF World Title. His feet up on the desk, he spoke without taking his eyes off the TV.

“Just a minute…”

Kage grabbed the remote from the desk and abruptly turned the TV off. Annoyed, Alex turned to Kage, who cut him off before he could speak.

“Take a trip down memory lane later. This is important.”

Alex grabbed the envelope from the desk, and removed a piece of paper from it. As he unfolded the document, that familiar grin came over his face.

“Is this what I think it is?”

Smirking, Kage nodded his head as he lit up a joint and exhaled.

“If you think it’s a list of the current EWA roster...and their salaries...then you’re fucking right it is.”

“Where did you get this?”

“That’s the thing. Went into the bar the other night, had a few drinks, came back out...and there’s this fucking envelope underneath my windshield wipers on my truck. I open it up...and I can hardly believe the fucking shit I’m seeing…”

“Any idea who left it there?”

“A few...but nothing concrete. That’s not the important part, though.”

Haven gazed down at the piece of paper once more, scanning it. Alphabetically organized, he found his own name first, followed closely by Kage’s - with an accurate number for both of their current salaries. A few names down, however, the grin on his face disappeared in an instant as he reached a familiar name on the list: Grady Smith.

“Those motherfuckers.”

Alexander Haven and Chris Kage had negotiated an unprecedented contract in the history of their business when they signed with the EWA. Michael Draven had given Duane Gates unlimited freedom to offer Haven and Kage whatever they liked in return for their names on a dotted line - and Gates, having no true allegiance to Michael, pushed back on very few clauses the men had insisted upon. No drug tests, right of refusal to matches, the list was endless - and each request more absurd than the last in many cases.

They had manipulated Michael Draven’s desperation for revenge by negotiating a contract with a man who wanted to see Draven fail just as much as they did, as history had proven. A contract that neither Haven or Kage truthfully expected the fledgling upstart promotion to be able to carry the weight of, but truth be told, Duane Gates had left the EWA in better financial standing than when Michael Draven still wielded power, and the EWA was flourishing once again, now under the control of D&D Investments.

Another clause was an automatic “bump” in salary if the EWA chose to pay another performer more than Haven and Kage’s already lucrative asking price. The Youth’s lawyers on retainer had made sure the details of the contract were iron clad - and Duane Gates, being a lawyer himself in a past life, had executed a solid contract on the EWA’s behalf. Whether it was also in the EWA’s best interest, was another story altogether. Their names on the list had been attached with accurate salary information - so Haven had little to doubt the document was genuine.

There were a lot of names on the list, but one stood out more than the rest.

Grady Smith.

Just another name on the active roster.

A name with a salary listed as being higher than both Haven and Kage - by a substantial amount.

“Should I call Cameron? Get legal on this?”

Haven stared at the paper with a look peppered with amusement, anger, and apathy all at once. As much as things were different this time around with the EWA, some things never changed.

Promoters would always be out to screw you.

And Grady Smith would always be there to hold you down.

It was how things worked back in the NYSWF, and Alexander Haven was starting to have a serious case of deja vu.




Albany NY
November 2001
The NYSWF Arena

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

A younger Alexander Haven, with longer hair but the same general physique and look, stared blankly across the desk at the man who had just finished addressing him. The man who signed his checks. The man who controlled his fate in the NYSWF. The man whose offices he sat in at this very moment.

Corey Collins. NYSWF president and self proclaimed “mastermind” of the whole operation.

Collins, dressed in a cheap suit as usual, had just finished informing him of the latest “development” in the ongoing feud between his faction, The Youth, and HATE, the faction led by Corey’s own twin brother, Prudence Collins, better known to the masses as NOTHING.

“So let me get this straight...you want me to pretend that my fiance’s father is actually my own father?”

“Our focus groups show that the fans want a family feud between you and Prudence, but they liked the idea of you being related to Serena more than Alyssa being her sister.”

Alyssa Marie was born the daughter of legendary wrestling announcer Jack Adonis, a man famous for his time spent calling various classic battles in the squared circle - and the voice of the NYSWF. A legendary womanizer back in his day, he fathered another daughter prior to marrying Alyssa’s mother - a girl by the name of Serena.

Through their father, both girls had fallen for wrestlers while visiting their old man backstage. Alyssa Marie initially falling for Michael Draven, before leaving him for Alexander Haven - and Serena, who eventually found herself married to NOTHING. With NOTHING and Haven attached to the sisters, the NYSWF braintrust had seen it necessary to attempt and create a “family feud” between the groups.

“The brother/sister connection tested more favorably in our studies.”

This had become a common occurrence in the day to day operations of the NYSWF. Overly complicated “plots”, manufactured rivalries, and a general distrust of the management. Business was still good, but not as good as it could be, Haven thought.

“This shit again? Look, I’ve told you time and time again - I don’t give a fuck what your focus group says. What your studies show. Tell me, Collins - how did I break out in this business?”

“Your feud with Michael Draven, of course...”

“And did you have to sit in this little office and make that up?”

“No, but…”

“And was it one of your biggest drawing rivalries?”

“It was, but…”

“No more, Collins. We’ve been playing this game for months. I played ball when you promised Grady the strap to get him back. You told me it was best for business, and we’d all benefit. So far, all I can see is that I gave up a record breaking World title run to placate your beloved Grady and now I’m stuck with one of your second rate titles. We both know I’m above that, but it’s not about what I want, is it? It’s about what Grady wants. It’s always been about what Grady wants..”

“Grady is a lege-”

“Don’t you tell me what Grady is. I know exactly who Grady Smith is. I played ball when you told me you wanted to start a faction war between HATE and The Youth. Look, I don’t love your brother all the time, but if the two of us can make it through Thanksgiving dinner together, then I’m pretty sure we can coexist in the same locker room.”

“The fans have been dying to see HATE and The Youth fig-”

“Honestly, Corey - you don’t have a fucking clue what the fans want. And quite frankly, I don’t give a shit what they want either anymore. This is about what I want now. I signed a rookie contract with you a year and a half ago, and in that time frame, I have become a Triple Crown champion - the quickest to ever achieve that goal. I have had record breaking title reigns with both the Television and World belt, holding it more days consecutively than any other man - including your Grady fucking Smith.”

“You’ve been very successful, I kn-”

“We’ve been going back and forth on a contract for months, because you and I both know that my value to this organization is much greater than the number on the meager paychecks that end up in my mailbox with your signature on them.”

“And we’ve offered you a very generous contr-”

“I don’t want a very generous contract, Collins. Generous isn’t going to cut it anymore. If you want me to stick around and put up with your bullshit of ‘focus groups’ and ‘contractually guaranteed title reigns’ that come at my expense - then you better make me an offer way better than the one sitting on my lawyer’s desk right now.”

“What do you want, Haven? The only person who would make more money than you under the terms of your new deal would be Grady.”

Haven smirked. Finally, Collins was starting to get it.

“Then I guess you’d better pay me more than Grady.”

He'd never forget the look on the NYSWF President's face.

MORE than Grady? I can’t. I just can’t. If I pay you, then I have to renegotiate with him. It’s a clause he has in his contract. Something his new hotshot agent came up with.”

Haven shook his head slowly. Grady Smith was an asshole, but he knew what he was doing. Promoters always watch out for promoters, he had discovered in his short time in the business. If you want something guaranteed, you damn well better have it in a contract.

“Then I guess you better start rolling some change and taking some bottles and cans back, Collins - because unless I receive a better deal than Grady, I’m out.”

“What do you mean you’re ‘out’? Where are you going to go? The EWA is closed, don’t even get me started on the NWF, and…”

“Don’t you worry about me, Corey. I’m gonna be just fine. Worry about you. It's time to start deciding if you want to build this company on the back of the next generation of legends, like Chris and I - or continue to drag the dead weight of past glory.”

“You’re walking out on me? That’s it? Negotiations over unless I can pay you the same as Grady Smith - a man who is arguably the most successful superstar in all of wrestling history?”

“I’m not walking out. I’ll finish my contract - because unlike you, I’m a man of my word.”

“You want a title shot? I can get you a title shot.”

No more. He’d managed to remain calm for the entirety of the ongoing negotiations thus far, but a man can only be pushed so far. He stood from the desk slowly, and placed both hands on the top as he leaned over to get closer to Collins, who wheeled back in his chair with alarm. It took every fiber of his being not to strangle Collins with his shitty tie.

“Hey, no need to get ups-”

“I have listened to your empty promises for long enough. My terms are my terms. I don’t need contractually obligated title reigns. I don’t need manufactured rivalries. I need a ring, and an opponent to fight - and I’ll do the rest. But until you compensate me fairly for all the bullshit I’ve had to put up with here - I will work out the remainder of my days, and then I’m done.”

“Please, Alex...listen to reason...you’re leaving a lot of money on the table here...”

“No, YOU’RE leaving a lot of money on the table. Don’t come crawling back to me when Grady inevitably flakes and walks out on you again for the seven hundred and twelfth time. I have been nothing but loyal to this organization from the day I signed that bullshit you call a contract, yet you choose to allocate your resources towards a greedy, manipulative, son of a bitch like Grady Smith, whose only goal is to make sure he stays at the top - not anybody else. They say the cream always rises, but around here, it sure seems like the shit floats to me.”

“Let’s take a breather. Think it over, and we’ll meet again next week.”

Haven laughed, as he turn towards the door to the office to make his exit. There was nothing more to talk about. Nothing more to debate. As much as he hated the man, he for the first time in his life found a measure of admiration for Grady Smith. The next time he found himself in a position to negotiate, he would not make the same mistakes again.




“Alex? Did you hear me? The lawyers? You want me to get Cameron on this?”

The sound of Kage’s voice snapped him back into reality. He shook his head, clearing the cobwebs of the memory, before glancing down once more at the piece of paper.

“Not this time. I think we’ll handle this one ourselves.”

“How so?”

“Feel like a road trip?”

“Sure, Josh can man the Academy. Where we going?”

“Boston. If Michael wants to be in charge of the EWA again, let’s show him what a headache we can really be.”


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