TAKE WHAT YOU CAN GET
As we come back from commercial, we’re greeted with the smiling face of Matt Mills. He’s standing in front of a backdrop with the Great American logo, microphone in hand.
Matt Mills: Welcome, PRIMEates! In just a moment, I’ll be joined by Ria Nightshade for a backstage exclusive!
Seconds later, Ria Nightshade wanders onto the scene. She cautiously scans the area, as if some unknown source has filled her with paranoia. Same finally locks her sight onto Matt, her gaze full of distrust.
Ria Nightshade: Who the hell are you?
Matt is initially taken aback by the inquiry. He quickly recovers, chuckling in a good natured manner before answering her.
Matt Mills: Come on, Ria. You know who I am.
Ria crosses her arms on her chest. It’s apparent in short order that she won’t be answering any questions without a satisfactory explanation from the interviewer. Matt sighs heavily, doing his best to mask his annoyance.
Matt Mills: I’m Matt Mills, I conduct-
Ria interrupts Matt’s answer by shooting a hand up.
Ria Nightshade: Yeah, I don’t actually care. I was told you have a question for me, so get on with. It better not be stupid!
Mills stares at Ria for a moment. He closes his eyes, composing himself before pushing through with the best smile he can muster.
Matt Mills: There’s a rumor going around that you might debut a new finisher tonight! Is there any truth to that?
Ria cocks her head to the left, raising her right eyebrow. Her hands move to her hips, still skeptical of this whole situation.
Ria Nightshade: Not sure where you heard that, but it’s true.
Matt nods in response. He pushes forward, his body language more excited after this small bit of progress.
Matt Mills: Can you tell us more?
Ria looks back and forth. It’s as if she’s concerned with spies, ignoring the fact that the camera in front of her is broadcasting this message to millions.
Ria Nightshade: Well Mick-
Matt timidly holds up a finger, quick to correct the Toxic Queen.
Matt Mills: Matt.
Ria glares at the veteran staff member. The look says she won’t stand for any more interruptions from him. His shoulders sag, resigned to let her speak her mind.
Ria Nightshade: Bob. Well Bob, I don’t feel in a particularly talkative mood. You want something? Fine. The name is Toxic Shock Syndrome. I’m not gonna tell you what it is. If I happen to break it out tonight, you’ll know when you see it. That good enough for you?
While he seems to want to press further, Matt takes a half step back. The look Ria wears on her face is that of pressure. One misstep could set her off. This information will have to do, lest he want to see what the consequences of prying might be.
Matt Mills: Thanks for your time, Ria!
Ria Nightshade: You’re welcome, Fancy Microphone Stand.
Matt frustratedly throws his arms in the air, a look of exasperation on his face. Ria walks off, darting her head back and forth, weary of any information leaks.