COLORADO SPRINGS, COLORADO
IT'S THURSDAY NIGHT CRISIS!
Good evening and welcome to another Thursday Night Crisis! I am Geoffrey Osbourne and I'm joined to the hip with the man with a fake tan Travis Morgan.
This isn't a fake tan Geoff the product I bought was genuine.
You look like an oompa loompa.
I look like Vic Vimes the Riot General Manager?
Oh Travis you silly orange bastard.
*both laugh like old rich Lords*
Time we did the run down now, Hammer.
Ok tonight we have the dancing queen Michael Heaton taking on the best around The Air.
Is he really the best around?
He could be. Katinzo Hatachi issued a challenge to any heavyweight in the locker room, Revan choose one and the 2 will meet in the ring tonight.
Why do all the EX guys think they can beat heavyweights?
Our main event sees former CCW Champion Seth Irving will face Otomo Musashi who had a great outing against Versus last week.
Seth was robbed at Summercide by that former burnout who wouldn't let me into his Bar.
And up first former Team Xerox competitors were set to make their debut tonight but it seems one of them decided to jump ship right back to his former fed so instead we were going to have Paul Pugh vs The Steve and Michael Morrison but sadly The Mad one was called into Mr. Revans office just moments ago, we have the footage.
The scene opens with Morrison sitting in a ravaged leather chair inside the ToP locker room. His fingers laced together, inches from his face, which is masked by dark threads of hair. He remains motionless, even when a knock is heard at the door.
STAFF MEMBER: Excuse me… Mr. Morrison? The general manager wishes to speak to you.
There is a moment of pause before the staff member attempts to get a response.
STAFF MEMBER: Morrison… can you hear me?
Morrison finally breaks his silence but remains motionless.
MORRISON: I suppose he wants gloat about the events that occurred at Summercide.
STAFF MEMBER: I… I wouldn’t know, sir. I was simply told to inform you that…
MORRISON: Yeah, yeah… he requests my presence. Tell him I’m on my way.
STAFF MEMBER: Very well.
Morrison begins to chuckle to himself.
MORRISON: Enjoy it while you can, Revan… enjoy it while you can.
We cut back to Travis and Geoffrey.
So now what's happening?
Well I guess it will be The Steve versus Paul Pugh.
Paul Pugh VS The Steve
That was suprising.
A slow knock plays like a melodic song on Revan’s door, letting the general manager of Crisis know that his guest has finally arrived.
REVAN: Come on in, Morrison… the door is open.
The door pops open and Morrison enters the office without a trace of emotion on his face.
REVAN: Please, take a seat.
Morrison sits in one of the chairs stationed in front of Revan’s desk and avoids making eye contact with the general manager.
REVAN: What’s the matter, Morrison? Nothing smart to say?
MORRISON: Just say what you have to say and let me be on my way.
REVAN: I never thought I’d live to see the day that Mad Mike, The Method Man himself, would be without a smartass comment or sarcastic, undermining sense of humor. You think I called you hear to gloat, don’t you? You think I had you walk down to my office because I wanted to savor this moment?
MORRISON: I could care less why you called me here…
REVAN: Well you’re damn right I called you here to gloat. You see, Morrison… for all your talk about methods and madness, I always knew you couldn’t hang with the big dogs. That’s why your mouth is so big and does so much yapping. It has grown to compensate for your lack of actual talent.
Revan stands from his chair and leans over his desk.
REVAN: You think that being clever and witty is all you need to get by in this business and that fact always hit a nerve with me. It’s people like you that manipulate your way to the top while taking a nice Cleveland Steamer on people who earned their place here. People like Chris Ryder and Nate Ortiz. People who fought their way to the top with heart and determination… who gave everything they had to be the best in this business. Quite frankly, Morrison… you sicken me, but I'm sure you hear that quite often.
Morrison begins to chuckle. Soon enough, the chuckle turns into a laugh. The gesture only angers Revan, who wears an expression that perfectly displays the disgust he feels for the man sitting in front of him.
REVAN: Did I say something amusing, Mr. Morrison?
MORRISON: Amusing, no. Sad and pathetic, yes.
Morrison begins to hold back his laughter and finally locks his eyes on Revan. Morrison's eyes widen and although he’s no longer laughing, the smile on his face lets us know that he’s still laughter continues inside his head.
MORRISON: That was one hell of a speech… and it took everything for me to play the part of "wounded dog", but I just had to make sure you felt victorious for this to work.
MORRISON: Ya see, Revan… I know it takes more than a silver tongue and devious planning to make it to the top. It also depends on what you know and most importantly… who you know.
Morrison relieves himself from the comfort of the chair in favor of a vertical base.
MORRISON: And boy, Revan… do I know someone that has the power to override your sorry ass. In case you haven’t noticed, Fausto’s little ingenious plan may have backfired on him, but it put true members of ToP in a very favorable position.
Revan turns his head to the side, once he realizes where Morrison is going with this.
MORRISON: That’s right, Revan… ToP may have lost the Cowardly Mastermind known as Guybrush, but we gained a Force of Nature that understands the rules of the jungle. A man that understands how cruelty and the misfortune of others… well, it’s what makes the world go round, isn’t it?
MORRISON: How does he put it? Oh yes… it’s my world and you’re just paying rent. I like that… it’s catchy.
Morrison notices a chess board on the corner of Revan’s desk and maneuvers his hand over the perfectly placed chess pieces. His hand hovers over the pawns and various characters.
MORRISON: From pawn… to knight… and eventually… King.
Morrison picks up the black marble chess piece that represents the King and holds it in front of his enamored face. He glares at it, as if lost in his own world.
MORRISON: And have no doubt, Revan… I will be King.
Morrison shifts his eyes in Revan’s direction.
MORRISON: One way… or another.
Revan’s face has become so contorted with anger that he's hardly recognizable.
REVAN: Maybe you’re right, Morrison. Just know that in my eyes, you will always be nothing more than a court jester. Now get the hell out of my office.
MORRISON: It stings, doesn’t it? I understand. It’s a feeling that people like you experience very often… while people like me never quite have the opportunity to feel.
Morrison makes his way to the door and before exiting, he holds up the black marble King.
MORRISON: Mind if I keep this? I want something to remind me of this special moment of clarity we just shared.
REVAN: I said get the hell out!
Morrison laughs and shuts the door behind him. Revan falls into his chair in a way that would have us believe he is physically exhausted. He lowers his head, ever so slightly, as his fingers lace together, inches from his face.