When Clancy McClean arrived at the GZW2K1 Coliseum this evening he was told (to his disgust) that the executive parking lot had been closed for renovations and that he would simply have to use the talent lot. His main concern, other than catching some infection or another from Red Dragon or Kid Kaos, was that his stretch, stretch, stretch limousine wouldn't even fit in a regular spot. He was right. His chauffeur of the evening, a butch French woman named Baguette, had struggled most valiantly to park the monstrous 82-foot long vehicle. Eventually she succeeded - taking up an entire floor and Clancy had even helped, having a grand total of three wrestlers' cars towed out of the ferocious woman's way. Clancy then left the luxurious car in her capable hands and went about his business.

Now, McClean emerges off the service elevator, shuddering to himself, and steps out into the dimly lit underground lot. He looks around a moment for the car and eventually spots it, a mere five feet away. He hasn't made it half-way when he bumps into none other than GZW2K1 Vice-President Angel Profit-Williams.

Angel: "Oh, excuse me!"

Clancy awkwardly and needlessly tugs at his tie.

McClean: "Oh, think nothing of it. Pain in the panties having to park down here, isn't it? Not your panties, now, but..."

Angel chuckles to herself, trying to picture a time that she witness a nervous Clancy McClean.

Angel: "It has its moments, Clancy. Fancy seeing you in these parts?"

McClean: "Well, business stuff. Marketing and streamlining and, y'know, business stuff. It's boring, but somebody's gotta do it!"

Angel: "So very true. I'm glad that GZW2K1 has someone as capable as yourself to helm projects such as that. We've been having a very productive year, not better than a few years ago, but good nonetheless."

The Director Of New Media inhales dramatically.

McClean: "Actually, yeah. About that..."

Angel: "Yes?"

Angel places her briefcase on the concrete floor and peers intently at Clancy.

McClean: "Well, the thing is, some people have been saying - and you know how some people can be - and it's not that I really think it or anything, but..."

Clancy trails off, for once in his life tongue-tied. He scowls in horror to himself.

McClean: "Alright. It's been productive. But take a minute to look at the actual product! Ratings are down, buyrates have plummeted...You don't really believe that this is 'good', do you? Seth Richards told you to say that, didn't he?

The wife of Ring of Honor Icon Nathan "T-Rex" Williams pulls a slight scowl.

Angel: "Though he's my boss, Clancy, I am no 'yes man' to Seth Richards. I honestly feel that the industry has evened off since the summer has come about and we are set to hit another boom period."

McClean: "With all due respect, Angel, there's only so much we can do with 'himself' still being in office. We need to spend big bucks and rattle even bigger cages in order to turn the big, fat heads of the general viewing public. Talk about a summer lull? This time last year GZW was having the time of its life! Richards is the problem, big ass that he is."

Angel: "So what do you propose the company do, Clancy?" 

Clancy ponders this for a moment, a pointless gesture considering that he's practiced this very routine a hundred times.

McClean: "First of all, we assemble the big boys..."

She scowls at him.

McClean: "...and big women."

Once again, he shudders.

McClean: "Anyway, we get the top dogs - bar Richards, of course - together in one room and I'll present my case. The man is lazy, ugly, not dedicated, stupid and entirely unfit to hold his own office. Not to mention his shady record that never seems to get mentioned around here. Reminding everybody of that is Plan B, actually. So here I'll be, painting for the Corzairs and Southerns of this world a harsh and crappy - that is, ACCURATE - portrait of our beloved commander in chief. I'll highlight his terrible decisions - allowing Pimp Bizkit and John Taylor out of their contracts, letting Jimmy Williams-"

Clancy suddenly becomes very aware of Angel's surname and shuts up.

Angel: "It's totally all right, Clancy. You can speak freely around me even if it deals with my brother-in-law."

McClean grins an entirely-too-satisfied-to-be-healthy grin.

McClean: "-anywhere NEAR a Pay-Per-View main event! What the hell is a Red Dragon and why is it headlining HEATWAVE?! Why was the World Heavyweight title given a rest while its holder competed for a hardcore belt? Why, Angel? Why was Red X let go? Why wasn't Jay Jameson hunted down and prosecuted after what he did to me? Why haven't we seen Monarch in so long? Why?!"

He looks right into her eyes.

McClean: "Seth Richards. That's why."

Angel merely shrugs her shoulders.

Angel: "So you've narrowed down 'the problem'. What about the answer? We call an emergency meeting to impeach Seth - mind you this has only been done once before when Tate and Kandi got my father out of office - but who do we offer up as his replacement?"

McClean scoffs to himself at what he sees as Angel's ignorance. He comes out singing an entirely different tune.

McClean: "Why, you're lookin' at him, ma'am!"

A sudden burst of laughter echoes throughout the parking lot as Angel looks at McClean.

Angel: "You've got to be kidding me, Clancy?"

McClean grins his world famous grin - so warm and healing that it's often referred to as the Lourdes of facial expressions.

McClean: "Do I ever kid, Angel?"

Angel: "Hold on. I know what this is about. This all a part of that pissing contest between you and Seth that started back in 2001. He somehow managed to get you fired back then and take over your company. There is no way you are about to get me mixed up in your shenanigans, Clancy."

Clancy looks away for a moment, then reaches into his bottomless breast pocket.

McClean: "You don't mind if I smoke a big fat cigar, I'm sure."

He retrieves possibly the longest, fattest cigar you've ever seen and sticks it between his teeth. Opting not to actually light it, he just obnoxiously talks through it, occasionally spitting flecks of sun-toasted tobacco at her.

McClean: "Angel, we're not kids here. We're reasonable, functioning adults...and that jerk simply isn't right for the job. I'm not a bitter man, honey. I acknowledge the fact that if he hadn't have gotten me fired back then, I'd already be president, but I'm not MAD about it."

A touch of true sincerity comes into his voice. He sounds as if he's almost close to tears.

McClean: "I mean it: This is nothing personal. I'm looking out for the good of the company here. I'm not trying to involve you in a little shenanigan here, Angel pie. I'm trying to clean up Richards' mess, and that'd be a hell of a lot easier if he wasn't here to further add to that mess. Do you hear what I'm saying?"

Angel crosses her arms over her chest as she taps her foot on the ground.

Angel: "I hear you, Clancy. I hear you loud and clear. If you are really serious about this call Ms.Taylor in the Command Suite and have her schedule you an appointment for Monday. We'll take whatever actions from there."

Clancy (really) badly covers up his excitement. He can withhold the urge to smile and giggle. He tries to sound nonchalant.

McClean: "Uh, yeah, that sounds...doable. I'm just gonna go ahead and light this up now, if that's alright with you."

He does just that. He exhales a thick cloud of Cuban smoke, conscious to keep it away from the Vice President, his new favourite person in the world. She picks up on his effort instantly.

Angel: "You must be forgetting who my father is, Clancy. I've been inhaling cigar smoke since I was on the tit."

Clancy grins, jumping at the opportunity for a witty remark.

McClean: "While your father's wife's 'tit' sounds good, I, uh..."

He curses himself.

Angel: "Remember to schedule the appointment for Monday. If not I'll know you're not serious."

She winks at him acknowledging the fact that he fumbled the chance for a perfect retort.

McClean: "'Serious' is my middle name, ma'am. Now if you'll excuse me..."

He turns and steps towards his ridiculous car. He turns back for a moment.

McClean: "You'll be hearing from me."

And that's that.