Wasn't the Right Time
Scene I: Saturday, June 19, 2004 -
condominium of Paulus Marcus, New
York City, NY
"You're doing what?"
Paulus was pissed as hell. Even idiots without PhD's could figure that out.
Thankfully I'm not one of them.
"I just...this isn't the right time Paulus...I can't come to do this to him." I looked down at my glass of wine, then back to him. "Not right now, at least."
Paulus sat there stunned, annoyed, angered. I was bailing out on his little scheme to, how shall I say, divert "borrowed" funds in a discreet manner from one bank to some of Robert's accounts in Switzerland.
"We've been waiting MONTHS for this, and the WEEKS since you called me to finalize arrangements. Things were ready to go, and you pull the goddamn rug out from under us. Fuck, Marissah...what's that bastard done to you."
He drank the last of his scotch and slammed his glass down rather perturbed like. I had had enough already of his whining and bitching.
"He may be a bastard Paulus, but he's my bastard. Besides, I don't need the money that badly," I offered. "I got a billionaire around my finger. I'm sorry you and Aryanna can't be as happy as we are with what little you have, but still."
Paulus cast a glare which he thought would penetrate me and incite guilt. No such luck, asshole.
"Alright, fuck it, whatever. You don't want in on it, I'll find someone else who wants to make easy money. Why don't you just get out now."
He stood up and began to walk towards his bedroom, leaving me to sit there and think.
I grinned wickedly. I stood up and began to walk to Paulus' bedroom, where he was changing his shirt. He wasn't as built as Robert but still...Aryanna was a lucky woman to have such a husband.
"Paulus...I'm sorry...I really don't want to upset you." I turned and shut his door. He sat on his bed, still shirtless, staring.
"What do you want Marissah."
I undid the first few buttons on my blouse and sat on his lap.
I made that son of a bitch feel better.
Scene II: Sunday, June 20, 2004 - MGM Grand, Silver - Las Vegas, NV
If you had told me those few months ago before Seamus, Thane and myself had entered the Big West Wrestling Alliance, and stated that I and my compatriots would hold three of the four BWWa championships between just two men - I would have thought you a fool.
I suppose the Dark Lord had enough of tormenting me...for now.
The Triumvirate was now at its most powerful, more so than it has ever been.
Robert Lancaster II and Seamus Finnegan, the Whiskey Devils: BWWa Tag Team Champions.
Robert Lancaster II BWWa Silver Dollar Champion.
And now.
The coup de gras: Seamus Finnegan.
BWWa Heavyweight Champion.
For seventeen years he awaited that moment. And the dream was realized at the cost of yet another member of Larger than Life, Apollo Carrington.
Earlier that evening Thane and I humbled SeX, yet again.
It was a good evening.
The look on Seamus' face after seeing the referee hit the mat for the third time is one that I will never forget. All the torment, the politics, the pain, injuries, personal troubles that had been buried in his soul for each and everyone of those seventeen years, evaporated completely.
The world was now the Triumvirate's.
We did exactly as we said we would the moment we entered into the BWWa.
Conquer.
Truly no more appropriate words could be spoken save these:
Veni. Vidi. Vici.
The future of the Triumvirate seemed brighter than any star.
Unless for some reason the Dark One decreed that this wasn't the right time.
Our time was here and now.
And the future was ours.
"You're doing what?"
Paulus was pissed as hell. Even idiots without PhD's could figure that out.
Thankfully I'm not one of them.
"I just...this isn't the right time Paulus...I can't come to do this to him." I looked down at my glass of wine, then back to him. "Not right now, at least."
Paulus sat there stunned, annoyed, angered. I was bailing out on his little scheme to, how shall I say, divert "borrowed" funds in a discreet manner from one bank to some of Robert's accounts in Switzerland.
"We've been waiting MONTHS for this, and the WEEKS since you called me to finalize arrangements. Things were ready to go, and you pull the goddamn rug out from under us. Fuck, Marissah...what's that bastard done to you."
He drank the last of his scotch and slammed his glass down rather perturbed like. I had had enough already of his whining and bitching.
"He may be a bastard Paulus, but he's my bastard. Besides, I don't need the money that badly," I offered. "I got a billionaire around my finger. I'm sorry you and Aryanna can't be as happy as we are with what little you have, but still."
Paulus cast a glare which he thought would penetrate me and incite guilt. No such luck, asshole.
"Alright, fuck it, whatever. You don't want in on it, I'll find someone else who wants to make easy money. Why don't you just get out now."
He stood up and began to walk towards his bedroom, leaving me to sit there and think.
I grinned wickedly. I stood up and began to walk to Paulus' bedroom, where he was changing his shirt. He wasn't as built as Robert but still...Aryanna was a lucky woman to have such a husband.
"Paulus...I'm sorry...I really don't want to upset you." I turned and shut his door. He sat on his bed, still shirtless, staring.
"What do you want Marissah."
I undid the first few buttons on my blouse and sat on his lap.
I made that son of a bitch feel better.
Scene II: Sunday, June 20, 2004 - MGM Grand, Silver - Las Vegas, NV
If you had told me those few months ago before Seamus, Thane and myself had entered the Big West Wrestling Alliance, and stated that I and my compatriots would hold three of the four BWWa championships between just two men - I would have thought you a fool.
I suppose the Dark Lord had enough of tormenting me...for now.
The Triumvirate was now at its most powerful, more so than it has ever been.
Robert Lancaster II and Seamus Finnegan, the Whiskey Devils: BWWa Tag Team Champions.
Robert Lancaster II BWWa Silver Dollar Champion.
And now.
The coup de gras: Seamus Finnegan.
BWWa Heavyweight Champion.
For seventeen years he awaited that moment. And the dream was realized at the cost of yet another member of Larger than Life, Apollo Carrington.
Earlier that evening Thane and I humbled SeX, yet again.
It was a good evening.
The look on Seamus' face after seeing the referee hit the mat for the third time is one that I will never forget. All the torment, the politics, the pain, injuries, personal troubles that had been buried in his soul for each and everyone of those seventeen years, evaporated completely.
The world was now the Triumvirate's.
We did exactly as we said we would the moment we entered into the BWWa.
Conquer.
Truly no more appropriate words could be spoken save these:
Veni. Vidi. Vici.
The future of the Triumvirate seemed brighter than any star.
Unless for some reason the Dark One decreed that this wasn't the right time.
Our time was here and now.
And the future was ours.