PRIME RULE BOOK: SECTION 4, CATEGORY B, “SUPLEXES”
We return backstage following the conclusion of Rezin’s war with Paxton Ray to find Coral Avalon in a locker room somewhere getting himself prepared for his big match later in the night against Nate Colton. Hanging conspicuously in the background is his big fur cloak that he wears for his entrances, and a furled battle standard set in a lean next to it.
He’s working on his pre-match stretches, loosening up before his match. There’s a look of grim determination on his face. The determination of a man who is planning to do everything he can to walk out of Kansas City with the extra heavy luggage.
He breaks out of his focus when he hears the sound of a door opening and closing off-camera, and when he looks to see who’s paying him a visit, he looks surprised.
Coral Avalon: …Cecilworth.
Standing across from Coral, Cecilworth presents a toothy grin that could generously be described as a smile, the false warmth doesn’t last long, as the smile slides slowly up his cheek.
Cecilworth Farthington: Coral! I’m glad I found you, we haven’t had a chance to meet, yet. I’m Cecilworth, you’re Coral, I get it, you get it. I don’t want to keep you long, I just wanted to wish you the best of luck…
Cecilworth looks at his left hand, which is hovering in the air, and decides against patting Avalon on the back.
Cecilworth Farthington: A lot more pressure, I’d guess. Providing for another mouth. Championship money, that’ll give you some breathing room. That reminds me…
Cecilworth tips his cap in the direction of Avalon. On would, if he owned a cap. He does not.
Cecilworth Farthington: Congratulations on the little sprog. I know we’re nothing more than new work colleagues, but something tells me that you will be a wonderful father. After all, we’ve seen your mentorship of the Winds…
The look of Cecilworth’s face could be best described as “smug satisfaction”
Cecilworth Farthington: How are those guys doing by the by? Sorry… I know you’re busy. Little time to chit chat about the children who found their wings… but pass on my well wishes to the lads. They’re what will make you a great father…
Coral rolls his eyes.
Coral Avalon: Glad to see that you’re wasting no time ingratiating yourself among PRIME’s roster. I know you’re a busy man, what with the, uh… Glue Point Oh thing you’ve got going on. So, I have to think that you didn’t really come here to talk about my becoming a father or whatever’s going on with Joe and Sid.
He hesitates, then offers a small smile
Coral Avalon: Oh, unless you want to talk about new products with one of the few customers of the Glue Factory on the roster. Let me tell you, arts and crafts when you’re wearing a silly blackberry mask? Not that easy. Just not a lot of peripheral vision to work with in that thing.
Cecilworth has the kind of half smile of his face where he is definitely completely lost, but doesn’t want to let on.
Cecilworth Farthington: Th… thanks? I… I’ll let the research department know…
Cecilworth begins to consider how to even approach the mask issue with his team and almost seems caught up in Coral’s world for a moment.
Cecilworth Farthington: Look, I don’t want to get into the gluemetrics right now. I just wanted to say that I’ll be cheering you on tonight. After all, you embraced The Founder. Bought his products. Used them on cable television, even! Colton, he rejected him, he rejected Mr. Atken…
For reasons not fully understood, Cecilworth looks up to the sky as he says the name “Mr. Atken”. I’d say he made the sign of the cross, but it was more his arm jiggling around to mimic something he probably saw on the teevee.
Cecilworth Farthington: Should the Colton Family decide to demonstrate one of the wide array of underhanded tactics they are renowned for, I will have your back! It’s good news, is it not? You saw what Nate pulled during Culture Shock.
Coral Avalon: It was a lot of suplexes, it’s true. Just an inordinate amount of suplexes. And just when you think the suplexes end, there are more suplexes.
Cecilworth Farthington: An illegal amount of suplexes. Trust me, I own a rule book.
Coral Avalon: Wait, you do?
Cecilworth digs into his inside jacket pocket and produces what could be best described as a “My Lil Police Lad” notepad and pen set, but the front page has been covered in masking tape, with “PRIME RULE BOOK” scribbled in sharpie. Cecilworth begins to flick through the pages, tapping his index finger against the book and nodding his head.
Cecilworth Farthington: Yup, says right here. Too many. Illegal. It’s best to accept my protection.
Coral Avalon: I mean, that is a tempting offer. But, I’m sorry to say, I’ll have to decline and worry about all of the illegal suplexes on my own.
Coral pauses, clearly thinking about all of the illegal suplexes that exist. There’s that one done by the balls, right? Yikes. Coral is snapped back into reality as Cecilworth flips the “PRIME RULE BOOK” closed and clasps his hands. The loudness of the clap frees Coral from his ball conundrum.
Cecilworth Farthington: Your loss! Well, I’ll still be waving the Avalon flag out there. Rooting and tooting you on. Well, more rooting than tooting. Too much tooting can be annoying to the senses. I just hope you’re right. I hope you get the Nate Colton you want.
Cecilworth attempts a pat on the back for a second time, it’s about as successful as attempt number one if I’m strictly honest.
Coral Avalon: The one that doesn’t beat me? Yeah. I hope that, too.
There is a pause, and a smile.
Coral Avalon: Because then, maybe I’d get to test myself against you. Won’t that be fun?
Cecilworth does that shaky head nod you do when you’re trying to think of a response. He holds up his index finger and curls it in Avalon’s direction as he slowly opens his mouth. After letting out an exasperated sigh, Cecilworth drops his head down and spins around on his heel, exiting the locker room.
Coral Avalon: Huh. Well, I think that’d be fun.
And we move on.