|Posted by "THE" Richard Purcell on November 26, 2014 at 5:25 PM|
The camera turns on(crap quality, I might add) as a man, heavily panting, sprints down a hall towards a room. He reaches the room, opening the door. Richard Purcell is watching the latest Storm, DVR recorded. He turns, sets down the glass of alcohol he was sipping on, and stands, turning off the television as he does.
Richard: You're late. I told you to be punctual. No matter. We can still get this done.
Richard fixes his tie, which is a bit askew, and buttons two buttons on his suit jacket. He clears his throat.
Richard: I'm assuming you started recording already? Amateur. I told Gerry to hire some actual talent. He's slipping. Looks like he might be cut loose after all. Look. Here's how it's going to go down. I cut this, I pay you the measly amount you asked for, then you post this on whatever shit service you have. Got it?
Cameraman: Yes, I got it.
Richard: Good. Now. I can't help but notice that I've gone yet another week without an appearance. Unbelievable. Just insane. They must really be pushing the envelope here. I don't mean to push it, but seriously, they must be blind if they can't see my potential. Then again, my potential hasn't been visually expressed as of yet. But the point is, it CAN'T be visually expressed if I'm not on a show! Do you see the paradox here?!
Richard picks up the glass, downs the rest of the alcohol, and sets it back down with a quizzical look on his face.
Richard: Fucking Gerry. Definitely not the best brand. Actually, like most people here. I am like a fine wine. I am not something that is going to be looked down upon. I am the greatest material there is, you see! I could bring a show up or down, depending on my mood that week. I don't want you all to 'kiss my ass', as was mentioned. Because I don't want, I receive. You see, I can't even fathom why I wouldn't have been given a match yet. I'm here! I exist, as all of you MUST know. If I didn't exist, it would be a terrible tragedy that would rock the world, I'm sure. I won't disappoint, if you just put me in a damn match already. You're missing out, I promise. I'm not just some rookie who will nearly disappear after maybe one good match. I AM RICHARD PURCELL. And I'm here because I know I can reach the top.
Richard turns and turns the TV back on, right back to Storm. He turns back around.
Richard: Well? Can't you see that's all I had to say? Oh- Right, your payment.
Richard stands and walks over. The cameraman holds out his hand, expecting something, when Richard hands him fifty dollars.
Cameraman: Our deal was for two hundred...
Richard: Ah, but, you were late. LATE. I am not paying the full amount if you're late, you imbecile. You're lucky you're getting anything. You know what- Here.
Richard takes the fifty, and hands the cameraman twenty five back.
Richard: For being a whiny little bitch.
Richard smiles and claps the cameraman on the shoulder. The cameraman sighs, exasperated, and turns to leave as the camera drops and is shut off.