ONE MAN’S ATTEMPT AT CIVILITY
Melvin Beauregard sits at his desk, fumbling through the mountain of paperwork before him. His brow is furrowed and his face looks complex, which is quite fair considering most people would describe him as a complex person. Though, probably not for the same reasons that Melvin might consider himself complex.
He thinks his night has been pretty bad thus far.
His night is about to get a whole lot worse.
Melvin Beauregard: Who is it?!
There is no answer though. Instead, the door flies open and standing there is a handsome gentleman that fills the frame of the doorway quite well. He is dressed in a pair of baby blue slacks, with a baby blue jacket to boot, and a linen white button-down shirt. His hair is perfectly coifed, smoke somehow seems to be billowing at his feet from an unseen smoke machine that has no business being outside of Melvin’s office, and he looks surprisingly like David Lynch.
That’s right, this man is none other than the Lost Soul himself, Dusk.
Cue the fans going crazy.
Is this all the fans have?
DUSK! DUSK! DUSK! DUSK! DUSK! DUSK!
That’s better and only fitting for a man that is considered one of the most over superstars (super-stah!) in PRIME today.
Melvin Beauregard: Oh Jesus-Christ-on-a-fucking-pogo-stick…
Dusk simply smiles at Melvin and proceeds to sit in a chair directly across from him.
Dusk: Thank you for inviting me in.
Melvin Beauregard: I most definitely did not.
Dusk: I must say, this is a pretty comfy chair. How comfy is your chair?
Melvin looks around.
Melvin Beauregard: It’s comfy.
Dusk: Mind if I try it out?
Melvin Beauregard: What, yes I mind if you try out my chair! It’s my chair.
Dusk: Wow, never seen someone so territorial over a chair before.
Melvin Beauregard: But, it’s my chair!
Dusk holds his hands up, acquiescing to Melvin.
Dusk: Fine, fine. It’s your chair.
Melvin Beauregard: Anyways, what can I do for you, Mr. Dusk?
Dusk: You know, I would think this would be a friendlier conversation. Have I come and harass you like so many of my colleagues do? I think not. Have I come and destroyed your office like so many of my colleagues have? I think not.
Melvin Beauregard: This is quite true–
Dusk: Have I come in here and defiled your chair by pulling a Cleveland Steamer while bringing three, ahem, girls off the street to do God-knows-what in here? I think not.
Melvin Beauregard: Wait, who did that?
Dusk: My point, Melvin, is that I think I’ve operated myself to be a fine citizen, designed to not give you too much trouble when my history would suggest otherwise. I’m usually a person that likes a little bit of mayhem and destruction. Take a look at my match with Wade Elliott some years ago and you’ll find that to be the case.
Melvin Beauregard: That’s quite true, I do appreciate that. Now, can we go back to the mention of someone doing some quite heinous things in my office–
Dusk: I don’t have time for that. Anyways, I want to know what you’re going to be doing to address the elephant in the room.
Melvin looks around wildly.
Melvin Beauregard: What did King Blueberry do now?!
Dusk: Metaphorical elephant, Melvin. Keep up with me, alright?
Melvin looks back at Dusk, bewildered.
Melvin Beauregard: Then, what are you talking about?
Dusk: I’m talking about Phil Atken and his walking, mute, brain oozing out of his skull, security agent, Hank.
Melvin Beauregard: Oh, that.
Dusk: That? You said it like it was an accident. A mistake. I can assure you that Phil and Hank knew exactly what they were doing when they slammed me multiple times into the mat and gave me a concussion.
Melvin Beauregard: Well, didn’t you take care of things last week?
Dusk: Do you even watch the show? No, I did not. Not even close. I got Gary. Not Phil. Not Hank. Though, I do wonder about the number of people around here with only four letters in their name.
Dusk then looks into the camera and gives a knowing wink.
Dusk: Look, I think I’ve been patient. I can gladly walk around the MGM Grand Arena, the hotel, the casino, the penthouse suites, you name it, and drag Phil and Hank around, reminding them exactly what pain is. I could easily do that and my nature is to go down that path. I’m trying to not. Instead, I’m coming to you, to work your magic, and make a match happen.
Melvin Beauregard: Well, I would say that’s more in the Lindsay Troy camp, wouldn’t you?
Dusk: I’m pretty positive you know the history of Troy and me–
Melvin Beauregard: Yeah, what is it with you two?
Dusk: Long story, no time to discuss it.
Melvin Beauregard: Because I heard that someone impersonated Lindsay Troy–
Dusk: We are NOT going to talk about that any further today, do you understand? We need to focus on the matter at hand.
Melvin Beauregard: I completely understand and respect where you’re coming from, but the truth of the matter is that I can’t just make this happen.
Dusk: I had a feeling you might say that.
Dusk then reaches into his inner jacket pocket and pulls out a lead pipe.
Melvin Beauregard: What the fuck? You just keep that in your jacket pocket?!
Dusk: Like I said, my true nature is to just knock them the fuck out. I thought I would let you try option one first, but you didn’t like option one so I figure I might as well do option two and save us all a bit of time.
Melvin Beauregard: Now, listen here–
Melvin is now standing, but so is Dusk. He’s turned on the spot and begins to walk out of Melvin’s office.
Dusk: Nice meeting you, Melvin. Hope your insurance pay-out has been upped. [chuckles] Actually, I imagine no insurance company will touch this place after the last few months. I’ll send you the bill!
Melvin, red in the face, watches as Dusk saunters down the hall and then looks at the cameraman.
Melvin Beauregard: Why are you still in here with me?! What are you doing here?! Go and follow him, now!
The camera then begins to bounce rapidly as the cameraman chases after Dusk, turning the corner just in time to see Dusk walking down another hallway. He begins to smack the lead pipe against his open palm, creating a large echo in the hallways.
Dusk: Oh Phil! Oh Hank! Come out, come out, wherever you are!
Dusk turns another corner, only to run into The Anglo Luchador. He looks visibly flustered and upset. As Dusk looks at him, he seems to be a bit on edge.
Dusk: You okay?
TAL: Well, the angry lady whom carries a switchblade wants to flay me like she’s a member of House Bolton, and my campaign to be in the Intense Championship match might have gone up in Rezin-ignited smoke. Not my best.
Dusk: Sorry to hear that, buddy. Now, I need to go take out Phil and Hank.
As Dusk starts to walk away, TAL grabs Dusk by the arm.
TAL: You know, I do have a match with them, shortly. Let me handle them for you. I’m in a foul mood, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I want to see people I genuinely care about in this fed get themselves in trouble, alright?
Dusk ponders this for a moment.
Dusk: I wouldn’t be opposed to it. [beat] I will be watching though. They pull any funny stuff and I’ll be out there, ready to crack them upside the head with this pipe.
TAL: That would be great, actually. Aim for the mute guy’s head. I don’t think he knows how to feel feelings.
Dusk looks at the lead pipe and places it back inside of his jacket pocket. He then looks at TAL.
Dusk: Whatever happens out there, just know they’re going to get their justice sooner or later. They can’t run forever.
Dusk then pats TAL on the back and walks away, while TAL looks on and nods his head.