Post by The Edgecrusher on Aug 9, 2009 19:51:55 GMT -5
The job of FCW janitor wasn't easy, long hours filled with hard and dirty work, all for the reward of a minimum wage paycheck. This definitely wasn't his glory days of the AWF, hell this wasn't even the glory days as assistant to the assistant sporting goods manager of Wal-Mart. Sure he pretty much did the same thing, but at least Wal-Mart gave him an awesome blue vest. Here he was reduced to wearing ragged coveralls with an incorrect name tag sown into the breast pocket.
He dazes in and out of a day dream as he blindly mops a mess that had been clean for several minutes now. A tall man dressed in an expensive suit rushes past Marc knocking him into the mop bucket. Almost in slow motion The Edgecrusher watches the bright yellow bucket spill onto the floor directly in front of the man. In Marc's head he sees the possibility, the man's leg slipping from under him and sending him flying across the room. From there was a hospital visit for the the man, a lawsuit against the FCW and The Edgecrushers final nail in the coffin.
Instead the man steps over and to his right avoiding the spill, he glances back with an angry scowl at Marc. It's a look blaming the janitor with a deep I'll kill your grandma style rancor. Right as the man turns his head back he walks directly into a wall and falls flat on his ass. Marc chuckles to himself but gets cut off by a shrill scream from behind.
Almost instantly he is a small frightened child, trembling hidden under a pile of his fathers gym shorts. Lighting strikes randomly light up the room, quickly followed by the ominous crash of the rolling thunder. In between them the gentle patter of raindrops beating against the window panes. Little Marc Simmons had to control his breathing, his father was drunk and angry again, looking for him with murder in his eyes. If he moved to much his father may stumble by and notice his dirty laundry moving.
"DAMN IT! I SAID HEY YOU JANITOR! GET OVER HERE!" the scream cuts Marc back into reality like a watermelon through a keyhole. Marc snaps his head back, straining the muscles in his upper shoulder. He let's loose a tiny yelp under his breath and jogs over to yet another man in high class garb.
"How can I help you sir?" Marc mumbles as he rubs his sore tendons. The Man wearing his finest Grey suit and about a ton of hair gel peered up at Marc giving him the once over. "God this guy must use like ultra mega super hold #69 or something. " Marc thinks to himself, "i can see my reflection in his hair for Christ sakes!" The man chimes in snapping the Edgecrusher out of his world once again.
"Tell me..." He looks down at Marc's name tag, "Abu...?" He looks Marc up and down again then shrugs his shoulders. "I do booking for the FCW and I'm really desperate. We just had a guy back out of a triple threat match for this weeks Anarchy. Nobody is available so how would you like to wrestle a match?"
"Me? You want me to wrestle? To become a full fledged FCW Wrestler?" Marc sputter out as he struggles to control his breathing.
"Yeah sure, why not? So you'll do it?" The FCW official stares at Marc intensely awaiting an answer.
"Do I get more more money?" Marc's question is answered with a quick and stern response.
"NO!" The FWC booker pauses himself, he must keep the fish on the line. Like a lamb to the slaughter he must get Abu to put his John Hancock on the dotted line. "We just need you to sign this and we're all set!" He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a contract and a pen, he hands it to the giddy as a school girl Edgecrusher.
"Can I at least keep the pen?" He asks.
"Umm... yeah sure, whatever kid." The booker let's loose a sigh of relief as Marc signs the Contract. He snatches the contract from Marc the minute he is finished and stuffs it in his pants pocket.
"No more scrubbing floors for me!" Marc proudly declares with a triumphant and dashing pose.
"Um no actually you still have to do the Janitor stuff as well." The bookers words spark an instant chance from victorious super hero to gang raped death row inmate in Marc's demeanor. "Which reminds me I was just in the stall next to Vince Osborn. I think your gonna have to take care of that." The suit walks away leaving Marc to duty at hand. He turns and heads toward the restroom and enters leaving us behind. A few seconds pass and we hear Marc screaming from inside the restroom.
"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD HOW CAN A HUMAN MAKE THIS MESS?"
He dazes in and out of a day dream as he blindly mops a mess that had been clean for several minutes now. A tall man dressed in an expensive suit rushes past Marc knocking him into the mop bucket. Almost in slow motion The Edgecrusher watches the bright yellow bucket spill onto the floor directly in front of the man. In Marc's head he sees the possibility, the man's leg slipping from under him and sending him flying across the room. From there was a hospital visit for the the man, a lawsuit against the FCW and The Edgecrushers final nail in the coffin.
Instead the man steps over and to his right avoiding the spill, he glances back with an angry scowl at Marc. It's a look blaming the janitor with a deep I'll kill your grandma style rancor. Right as the man turns his head back he walks directly into a wall and falls flat on his ass. Marc chuckles to himself but gets cut off by a shrill scream from behind.
Almost instantly he is a small frightened child, trembling hidden under a pile of his fathers gym shorts. Lighting strikes randomly light up the room, quickly followed by the ominous crash of the rolling thunder. In between them the gentle patter of raindrops beating against the window panes. Little Marc Simmons had to control his breathing, his father was drunk and angry again, looking for him with murder in his eyes. If he moved to much his father may stumble by and notice his dirty laundry moving.
"DAMN IT! I SAID HEY YOU JANITOR! GET OVER HERE!" the scream cuts Marc back into reality like a watermelon through a keyhole. Marc snaps his head back, straining the muscles in his upper shoulder. He let's loose a tiny yelp under his breath and jogs over to yet another man in high class garb.
"How can I help you sir?" Marc mumbles as he rubs his sore tendons. The Man wearing his finest Grey suit and about a ton of hair gel peered up at Marc giving him the once over. "God this guy must use like ultra mega super hold #69 or something. " Marc thinks to himself, "i can see my reflection in his hair for Christ sakes!" The man chimes in snapping the Edgecrusher out of his world once again.
"Tell me..." He looks down at Marc's name tag, "Abu...?" He looks Marc up and down again then shrugs his shoulders. "I do booking for the FCW and I'm really desperate. We just had a guy back out of a triple threat match for this weeks Anarchy. Nobody is available so how would you like to wrestle a match?"
"Me? You want me to wrestle? To become a full fledged FCW Wrestler?" Marc sputter out as he struggles to control his breathing.
"Yeah sure, why not? So you'll do it?" The FCW official stares at Marc intensely awaiting an answer.
"Do I get more more money?" Marc's question is answered with a quick and stern response.
"NO!" The FWC booker pauses himself, he must keep the fish on the line. Like a lamb to the slaughter he must get Abu to put his John Hancock on the dotted line. "We just need you to sign this and we're all set!" He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a contract and a pen, he hands it to the giddy as a school girl Edgecrusher.
"Can I at least keep the pen?" He asks.
"Umm... yeah sure, whatever kid." The booker let's loose a sigh of relief as Marc signs the Contract. He snatches the contract from Marc the minute he is finished and stuffs it in his pants pocket.
"No more scrubbing floors for me!" Marc proudly declares with a triumphant and dashing pose.
"Um no actually you still have to do the Janitor stuff as well." The bookers words spark an instant chance from victorious super hero to gang raped death row inmate in Marc's demeanor. "Which reminds me I was just in the stall next to Vince Osborn. I think your gonna have to take care of that." The suit walks away leaving Marc to duty at hand. He turns and heads toward the restroom and enters leaving us behind. A few seconds pass and we hear Marc screaming from inside the restroom.
"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD HOW CAN A HUMAN MAKE THIS MESS?"
