Time To Usher In Your Future

[Deleted]

The camera crew walks up to an motel. The camera roams down the elevated walkway, and with every step the wood creaks beneath them. The camera stops and a moment of suspense fills the air, and it's finally broken with the New England accent of Richard Schwartz. 

"Listen Jacky. Kid, stop pacing it freaks me out."

A pause fills the gap between his sentences. 

"JACKSON! GOD DAMMIT! WHY DON'T YOU TALK TO ME!? CAN'T YOU SEE THIS IS HUUUUGE!"

As the exaggerated huge lingers in the air, we hear footsteps inside the room suddenly come to a slow halt. A deep sigh is heard from within the room, and a low gravelly voice speaks. 

"Ricky. I know. I do, trust me. Bob Cena, one of the top dogs. A debut fitting for a man of my potential. You've said everything already."

The New England accent speaks again this time calm and calculated. 

"Jacky. Bob Cena is huge. I get it, you threw out drunken idiots and hooligans from my clubs every night. Myles, you just gotta understa-"


"No. Ricky. Bob Cena isn't going to be a problem. You say he's a top dog. Sure, maybe he is, but I promise you. I'm going to toss his ass down to the bottom rung of this ladder and sit on his dusty throne."


"Ok kiddo, I get it. You got something to prove. So, go ahead. Tell me the master plan of how you plan on doing that."

The heavy footsteps return and stop when closest to the door. 

"In the same fashion I plan on using for everybody in my way"

The New England accent, at which this point we assume is "Ricky", gulps and begins to shakily speak. 

"Jack, you are one scary sonuva bitch. Listen, I put a lot of money into making you and you can't get cocky and blow this"

Suddenly we see a hand knock on the door. After a brief pause the door swings open and the camera enters the room focusing on Richard Schwartz. 

"What is this?"


"I hired a cameraman. Cutting a promo, get some attention. Shine a big ole' spotlight on the future jewel of THY WWE. Ok, Kid, Are you rolling? Good!"

From off camera we hear the gravelly voice of Jackson Myles. 

"Is this necessary"

Ricky looks at Jackson off-screen with a face that's easily read as "Of course". 

"Would I blow money on it if it wasn't?"

Jackson leans back on a wall and Ricky walks over to join him and the camera finally sees both men in the same shot. Jackson towers over the older Richard Schwartz, and leans against the wall, arms crossed and blank expression on his face. Richard then speaks up in a stronger tone than before. 

"Hello THY WWE! I am Richard Schwartz, and you should jot that name down because you'll be thanking me for the rest of your history. You'll be remembering me as the man who brought you the future crown jewel of your entertainment. A man, NO!"

Richard pauses as a crooked smile fills his thin lips. 

"A warrior."

Richard only seems to be smirking at this point. 

"I know what you may be thinking. We heard similar words said time in and time out. But I'm not a man who paved his life out of bullshit. I am a man who found innovation and brilliance and pure potential and molded those into the finest of diamonds. And my client is no different. Feast your eyes upon Jackson Myles. Because the next time you see him he's going to-"

Jackson steps off of the wall and looks ahead at the camera. 

"The next time you see me, I'll be ripping your precious Bob Cena into pieces."

Richard chuckles and speaks up and Jackson returns to his leaning position. 

"Jacky-boy, I couldn't say it better myself. You see, Jackson Myles here. He's the name you're going to thank me for. He's the name you're going to thank for removing Bob Cena's boring, talent-less name from the books. He's the name... The man... The warrior... That you are going to tune in to see, week after week after week. The storm that will tear down the foundation of this pitiful excuse of talent. He's going to set your bar ten miles higher ever single time you see him. I've seen this man crack ribs with a single punch. I've seen Jackson toss out two men, one in each arm, without so much as a sweat beating off his beautiful forehead. And frankly, this Bob Cena. He's no better than the trash Jackson would crush every night. He's nothing. He's just a stepping stone, and with god as our witness, you can bet your top dollar that Jackson wont just step on him. He'll stomp on him. He'll stomp on that stone you call Bob Cena, until that stone is turned into a pile of dust and pebbles. When it's all said and done I'm going to watch, smiling as I am now, and spit in his face. He's a so called, "top dog". Well, Mr. Cena. Prepare for your nose to be shoved in shit, because your master is here. It's time you behaved yourself and sit your ass in a kennel."


"Bob. I'm not one for fancy stories or gussied up threats. So take these words. I'm going to see you in that ring, I'm going to break you inside that ring, and then, I'm leaving your body curled up in a mess in that ring."

Jackson Myles leaves the motel and the door slams with a powerful thud, echoing inside the room. The ceiling fixture giving off the light begins to shake and move, and the light crosses back and forth of Richard's face. 

"THY WWE. It's time you see true talent. It's time you welcome your precious gem..."

Richard smirks with utmost confidence. 

"Jackson Myles."

The camera begins to fade out as the light continues to swing across Richard ugly, horrific grin. As the camera finally fades to black, we hear Richard snickering, followed by the sound of silence.