The chorus of “That’s Entertainment” by The Jam plays
out from a set of Bose speakers of one of Clancy McClean’s numerous
offices. The long-absent Director of New
Media for GroundZero Wrestlign
2K1, however is nowhere to be seen. Paul Weller’s distinctive voice precedes the
obvious, crappy pun to start things off.
“…And that’s it? That’s
entertainment in the
McClean can only be described as disgusted. He is in the middle of a phone call with a
spineless little member of the executive committee named Steve Bosch. McClean had been hoping to talk directly to
Vice President Angel-Profit Williams after seeing Heatwave
III, but evidently she didn’t want to see him.
She has instead had this character call up Clancy and hear
him out. Although technically McClean’s superior, Bosch is clearly not stupid
enough to try to wave his seniority around.
Clancy: “I have no problem with little miss ladyboy closing the show, but for crying out loud…this is
HEATWAVE we’re talking about!”
Bosch: “Sir, with all due respect the match was
a critical success.”
Clancy: “I’ve never listened to critics,
young man. Critics don’t put money in
the bank!”
Bosch: “I’m sorry, Mr. McClean, but they pay
for a seat just like everybody-”
Clancy: “Shhh. This company has always prided itself on
five-star wrestling and we haven’t quite lost that, but facts are
facts. Ratings are way down. Entertainment value’s virtually
non-existent. When your top man is Jon
Kellar, you know you’re in trouble. And another thing…Could you tell me please
exactly what the hell is a NEOGZW?!”
Bosch: “It’s-”
Clancy: “Enough! I don’t want to hear another word about it.”
Bosch: “O-Kay…”
McClean: “I think those unfortunate enough to
depend on you would rather you didn’t talk down to the director like
that, young man.”
Bosch: “Mr. McClean, I’m not even in your
department. And I’m three years older
than you.”
McClean: “Stop being so damn unreasonable and
just listen, will you? You might just
learn a lesson in good business here.
I’ll admit that I’ve been out of the office a little while at this
point…”
Bosch (Under his breath): “Six
months…”
McClean: “Whatever you say. Now… In my absence the company has slipped. Considerably. UJW’s getting more
publicity than us. U-J-absofuckin’-W,
kid. Allowing that to happen was
a cardinal sin.”
Bosch: “Mr. McClean, you can’t blame yourself
for everything that’s happened here.”
McClean: “Are you joking
me? I’ve done nothing to cause any of
this crap. I’m the last person
I’d lay the blame on here. If they’d
made me president years ago like I’d suggested and then I’d taken a
holiday, THEN, maybe, you could put some of that on
me. But for now, I laugh at that
suggestion. I’m the only hope this
sinking ship has, and the sooner your snooty executives cut away this red tape
and-”
McClean, no stranger to irony, catches a glimpse of his sellotape dispenser – the tape coloured red – and shifts
his direction a little.
McClean: “Look: The way the company’s being
run, Maxx Pain will be World Champion in six
months. We’ve already had one president
run out because of that. Richards
should’ve been impeached the second that young Kellar
was allowed even aspire anywhere above the hardcore division… GZW needs to be rebuilt from the bottom up,
or else we’re all in for one dull ride to snoozeville,
with possible stops at bankruptcy and one or two E! True
Bosch snickers to himself.
McClean: “Excuse you?”
Bosch: “I’m sorry, sir, but to imply that
Samuel Knight – an ROH Icon – was run out of the company is just
ludicrous. That man kept GZW strong
through a pretty low period in it’s existence.”
McClean: “Strong?”
Bosch: “Yessir.”
McClean: “The words ‘Maxx
Pain’ and ‘Champion’ mean nothing to you?
Actually, forget it. That was
then and this now. What we have is a
potentially disastrous direction for the company. Heatwave III was
among our lowest rated Pay-Per-View events ever.”
Bosch: “From where are you getting this
McClean: “It just was, okay? I nearly had a heart attack when I saw the
card. In fact, I’m pretty sure I had a
minor one. Jimmy Williams in the main
event of one of the BIG annual events does not a good omen
constitute. And not even mentioning that
our World Heavyweight Championship wasn’t even nearly defended? I can’t allow this.”
Bosch: “I have a conference with Ms.
Profit-Williams later this afternoon, and I know she’s going to want to know
what this was about. Right now all I can
tell her is that you’re not pissed. What
exactly, if anything, are you suggesting?”
McClean: “Isn’t it clear? A structural re-haul is the only thing that
can salvage this operation. We start by
grabbing Seth “Incompetent” Richards by the scruff of the neck and shooing him
away…”
Bosch: “I thought you were suggesting that we
start from the bottom up, Mr. McClean?”
This clearly irritates Clancy.
McClean: “Hmmm…So
you were listening after all. Whatever way you want to do it. Axe Richards and axe him now. The rustier the better. Get that title off Jon Kellar
and the earliest possible moment and bring back some real
champions. Where the hell is Monarch?”
Bosch: “Mr.
Corbin is tied up overseas at the moment, sir.”
McClean: “Pimp
Bizkit?”
Bosch: “He
retired.”
McClean sighs.
McClean: “Who
the hell have we got? Where’s
John Taylor?”
Bosch: “He went dark, sir. Cashed his last paycheck
and we haven’t seen him since…”
McClean: “And have you looked for
him?”
Bosch: “No, sir. Richards says that he’s not worth what we
were paying him anyway. If he’s looking
for work, he knows where to find us.”
McClean: “That’s just great. I can assume that we’ve seen the back of
Sincere, Raide, Magic and the rest of them?”
Bosch: “Pretty much. We’re really pushing hard on developing big
names out of the talent we have, sir.”
McClean: “Oh yes. Burny Freezer and Red Dragon and the like?”
Bosch: “That’s right. We’ve got a lot of
potential on that roster.”
McClean: “Marvellous. Maybe if the company’s still liquid in a
month one of them might actually get over.”
Bosch (genuinely): “Sir, on the
executive committee we’re privy to the financial statistics and we’re not in as
bad a shape as you’re making out. It’s a
lull period alright, but we’ve come out of it before and we’ll come out of it
again. I can appreciate what you’re
trying to do here, I really do. I’d be
happy to pass your ideas on to the board, but between you and me I have to say
that they’re going to say the same thing…
And not put it as nicely as I have.”
McClean considers the man’s open and honest words for a
moment and clears his throat.
McClean: “You…”
Bosch, sensing that the notoriously stubborn McClean has
actually taken on board his advice remains quiet. The excitement brews within him.
McClean: “…are IMPOSSIBLE to deal with!”
Bosch curses to himself for being so naïve.
McClean (bitter and condescending as ever): “Look
here, Box: Where do you get off talking to me like that? I’ll tell you where – Getting fired. I have a mission to save this company and I’m
going to carry it out to the full. If
that means firing fifty-million-hundred people just like you, flipping desks,
breaking homes, stealing families, then so be it. In fact, I won’t stop until 90% of this
company is below the poverty line. But
that’s just an added bonus. If you’re
not going to give me – ME - the time of day-”
Bosch cuts in neatly.
Bosch: “Sir, I was giving-”
McClean: “Give it up you stubborn little stub
of a man, nobody’s going to get in my way, certainly not someone like you. I’m going over your head and that’s
that. Straight to
Angel. No, straight to Richards…”
He pauses.
McClean: “As I said, straight to
Angel. I won’t let bossy loud-mouthed
bags of hot gas like you and your co-worker next door get all
the spotlight anymore. Finally
Clancy McClean – The Selfless One – is going to step out of the shadows and be
heard. You can consider Richards out of
office. Consider Kellar’s
days numbered. Consider NEOGZW and our
army of unknowns to either be put straight or to be put out of employment very,
very soon. This place has gone to the
dogs. Think of me as the dog-keeper…”
Clancy shuts up, desperately trying to think of a better
analogy. Not having his trusty Thesaurus.com
loaded on his laptop, he can’t.
McClean: “Here, now. I’ve had enough of your sass. You know my intentions and you’ve got two
choices. Get fired or shut the hell up
and stop bothering me.”
Bosch: “Mr. McClean, you called me, I-”
McClean: “Ugh, you’re just wasting my
time. Enjoy your little conference with
Angel, Stevie.
It’ll be among your last if I’ve got anything to do with it…”
Bosch keeps quiet, giving up on the infuriating little man
on the other end of the phone line entirely.
McClean: “…And as you’ll soon find out, I always
do. Relay the message, piglet.”
Chuffed with himself, Clancy hangs
up his state-of-the-art phone just by thinking about it. It’s only really now that we realise that “That’s
Entertainment” has been playing on repeat the entire time. As it kicks into the chorus for perhaps the
fiftieth time, Clancy lights up a very Cuban cigar and that’s that.