[Fade up]
[Robert Marshall's office]
[Robert Marshall sits behind his desk scuffling through papers, well-dressed
as usual. In contrast to the man that just walked into his office,
Quinn Tate. Clad in his wrestling gear of black leather biker-style boots, a
pair of black cargo/combat pants and a clean beater he smirks and
lazily falls into one of the chairs in front of Marshall. The calm look on
Marshall's face is replaced with one of anger and possibly hatred.]
[TATE]: So you wanted to see me?
[MARSHALL]: Yes. I did. You see Mr. Tate, we have a problem.
[TATE]: Oh yeah and what's that?
[MARSHALL]: It has come to my attention that you have a rather nasty drinking
problem and not only that but a bad habit of winding up
incarcerated.
[TATE]: Well isn't that lovely.
[MARSHALL]: THIS IS NOT A JOKE TATE! [Marshall stands up and begins pacing as
he speaks] This is quite serious. You know I had to
pay a settlement to keep your last girlfriend's boyfriend from pressing
assault charges.
[Quinn's expression sours.]
[TATE]: What'd you do that for? He'd never have won the case, he attacked
me...
[MARSHALL]: You are a professional wrestler and as such you have
responsibilities to the public and to me.
[TATE]: My responsibility to the public ends when I leave the arena, I give my
all for the fans while I'm here and when it's over I go home to my
life. As for you...F**K YOU!
[Quinn stands up, nose to nose with Robert Marshall.]
[TATE]: What I do on my own time is my business and not your concern!
[MARSHALL]: [yelling back] WELL THEN, WHILE YOU'RE ON MY TIME, I GUESS THAT
MEANS YOU'RE MINE!
[TATE]: [smirking] Keep dreaming Marshall, I'm not your puppet. I do what I do
for the fans, I could care less about you and your ambitions.
Stay out of my way.
[With that Quinn turns and leaves the office, slamming the door on his way
out.]
[MARSHALL]: HEY! GET BACK HERE! I'M NOT THROUGH WITH YOU!
[Marshall slams his hands down on his desk.]
[MARSHALL]: So that's how you want to play it...
[A twisted grin appears on the boss's face.]
[fade]