Melvin Beauregard
Melvin Beauregard’s portly pasty frame waltzes into view with nothing but a white hotel towel around his waist. He rustles through his hotel room closet and a pair of black pants, a white dress shirt, and a PWA orange tie all fly from the closet onto the coarse fibers of a hotel suite couch. Giddily, he walks over to his laptop that’s set up on the suite’s dining room table and navigates quickly on the Macbook Pro, pulling up a song on his Apple music. Gene Wilder’s rendition of ‘Pure Imagination’ begins to play throughout the suite as the PWA Liaison hums along. He rubs his hands together, warming up his delicate fingers before he opens his inbox. Thousands of unread messages from The Anglo Luchador and other Phoenix Wrestling Alliance contracted wrestlers are ignored for the “Compose” icon. He merrily types in the address field: ‘LT@PRIMEWRESTLING.COM’.
Melvin smirks as he runs his fingers across the touchpad, dragging his cursor up to the attachment field. He navigates through a myriad of files and folders, before finally landing on the one he was looking for. Melvin double clicks and attaches the file aptly named: ‘ReVival13-Security-Footage.” Then he opens the file for the hundredth time to make sure he’s attached the correct one. The dimly illuminated parking deck of the MGM Grand greets us as Melvin presses play.
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On the screen, Melvin can be seen walking to his mid-decade Toyota crossover. He stops at the door, setting his briefcase down and looks to be giving himself a TSA issued pat down. A much larger man approaches from behind, and Melvin turns around as the man presses him up against the SUV. A conversation occurs, back and forth for a few moments, the larger man backing away as Melvin is allowed to generate a little bit of space between himself and his driver’s side door.
The large man shoves the PWA Liaison, and Melvin flies backwards smacking into the car door. He goes down in a heap, his head whiplashing off of the ground. The larger man walks towards Melvin leering over him, pointing at him. Melvin pulls something from his inner jacket pocket and the large man turns around to clearly reveal the Head of Security for PRIME: Wade Elliot. The large man walks away briskly, shaking his head and smiling.
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Melvin’s pearly white teeth are on display as his grin stretches ear to ear. The song continues to play as he leaps up from the chair, throwing the towel to the side and sliding on a pair of white bikini fit underwear. He pulls on a plain white undershirt and slides his button-up overtop of it. The black dress slacks are next, and Melvin picks up the orange tie. He walks to the hallway mirror in the room, still humming along with “Pure Imagination.”
“I told them all. I told them all I would do what was best for this place, no matter the cost,” Melvin spoke to himself as he stared into the mirror. “I told them I wanted to make a world where PRIME was everywhere. I told Ria, I told them all. I wanted to be in Times Square, I wanted to be in Tokyo…”
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Ria Lockhart: Hi Melvin. Look, I’m having a really bad night. Can we keep this brief?
Ria’s request lacks energy. Melvin smiles, revealing a chip on his right canine.
Melvin Beauregard: Of course, where are you headed with that bag, girl? Off to see the lights of the city? To another wonderful PWA promotion to wrestle?
Melvin, finally sees the visual cues of the situation.
Melvin Beauregard: Oh no hon, here…
Melvin struggles to get into his suit jacket pocket through the metal of the crutches. He pulls out a package of Kleenex, and fumbles trying to open them before just handing them to Ria.
Melvin Beauregard: Chin up Ria; there’s great things planned. Great things to do. We have to keep fighting to make PRIME great!
Ria looks down at the Kleenex, opting to slip them in her pocket. She takes a deep breath.
Ria Lockhart: Melvin, I don’t think you and I hold the same opinion on what would make PRIME great. In fact, I think PRIME is great as is.
Melvin Beauregard: PRIME is already great Ria, but could you imagine?
Melvin wraps his arm around Ria’s shoulder, still maintaining usage of his crutches to stabilize himself. He waves his hand out in front of them.
Melvin Beauregard: The return to glory, Ria; the return to billboards and movies. The flashing lights of Hollywood, the thousands of screens of New York, the streets of Tokyo to the alleys of London… That’s my PRIME, Ria. That’s the future I see. The biggest wrestling company in the world, finally returns. That’s my PRIME, Ria, and we still have a lot of work to do to get there. But it all starts with the Phoenix Wrestling Alliance.
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“I wasn’t lying. I wasn’t fibbing.” Melvin adjusts the white dress shirt before stepping into the legs of his dress slacks. He pulls them up, some might say to a point that is too high. He slips the button in place on the inside of the pants before hooking their clasp. “The ones that have been with me from the beginning, they understand the vision. They understand the goals, but I need to get the others on board…”
“The negotiations between the MGM and PRIME might as well have never existed. Not with us being able to fill that same building over and over again. There was no need to be subservient to an organization that simply had a building. You were right, Melvin. You knew the way forward.” He smirked into the mirror and pointed his hairy knuckled finger at his reflection. “You dog, Melvin, you dog. You knew all along. But they didn’t want to hear it. They were comfortable, they were happy, they didn’t want to take another risk, they didn’t want to reach for the stars…”
“If you want to view paradise, Simply look around and view it,” Gene Wilder crooned in the background as Melvin smiled again, straightening the white shirt and draping the orange tie around his neck.
“Want to change the world?” Melvin joined in emphatically, spinning around on one leg like a ballerina to face the mirror on the opposite wall. He slipped one end of the tie over the other.
“There’s nothing to it!”
The PWA Liaison continued to murmur away as he finished tying his tie. He straightened everything in the mirror one last time before prancing back to his MacBook Pro. He clicked on the screen and began to frantically type.
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Ms. Troy,
The PWA, in conjunction with the MGM Grand Casino and Resort, has finished the investigation into the evening of August 12th, 2022. Security footage from the parking garage was obtained by the MGM and handed over to the Phoenix Wrestling Alliance, and our internal team has gone ahead and reviewed it. The footage, combined with the testimony of the victim, has painted a clear picture. The disagreement that Mr. Elliott and I had that evening can be seen plainly on the footage. You can also see Mr. Elliott assaulted me in an attempt to resolve the dispute. You can also see Mr. Elliott walked away from the scene, briskly, very pleased with himself.
I’ll be attending ReVival 20 this evening on behalf of the Phoenix Wrestling Alliance to facilitate the handover of Wade Elliott, the footage, and my testimony into the custody of the Las Vegas Police Department. I would like to make sure that my safety is guaranteed for the evening. I understand that you have had an uptick in assaults since my last appearance.
I would also like to revisit the meeting that you stormed out of. Please let me know when you are free to have discussions. I hope we can continue our fantastic working relationship going forward.
Thank You For Your Cooperation.
Sincerely,
Melvin Beauregard
PWA Liaison to PRIME
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Melvin sits staring at the screen, reading the email for the fourteenth time. Finally happy with the wording, he dances his finger across the trackpad and moves the cursor to the send icon. He slams down on the keyboard and smiles.
“There’s nothing to it.”