Post by Donnie Harris on Nov 2, 2023 20:22:31 GMT -5
)Donnie Harris(
Where the fuck were you? Where the fuck was security!?
-To open the scene, Donnie Harris was fuming. Not only was he written wrong, but security let some fan into the ring. It served as a distraction, giving a chance for Damian Calaway to clinch victory from the jaws of defeat, letting him retain his Rebellion title.
All because of a false 3-count that took Donnie away from the actual victory: it was beyond anger. It was something that could get the security company wrapped up in a civil legal case that would bankrupt them.-
(Head of Security)
I’m sorry, sir, but...
)Donnie Harris(
But what, you inept fuckwit? But...
-Donnie wheeled back and slapped the man in the face without any restraint. The uniformed security crumpled into a heap, hitting the floor in a daze. It looked like a reporter going down with the same slap many decades before.-
)Donnie Harris(
But what!? But MOTHER FUCKING WHAT!? Was the job too fucking hard for you or for your poxy little guards? Do you employ the dumbest of the dumb? Do you even hire licensed, trained guards? What’s your excuse!? WHAT’S YOUR FUCKING EXCUSE!?
-As the security supervisor tries to get to his feet, a thunderous kick to the ribs puts him right back down again, as legitimate security, not just the wrestlers in security shirts, rush in to protect their boss. Donnie almost levels a female guard with a backhand, but then a familiar voice echoes out from the distance.-
(Britlyn Baylor)
Donnie, you cut that out. You stop, right now.
[/font]Where the fuck were you? Where the fuck was security!?
-To open the scene, Donnie Harris was fuming. Not only was he written wrong, but security let some fan into the ring. It served as a distraction, giving a chance for Damian Calaway to clinch victory from the jaws of defeat, letting him retain his Rebellion title.
All because of a false 3-count that took Donnie away from the actual victory: it was beyond anger. It was something that could get the security company wrapped up in a civil legal case that would bankrupt them.-
(Head of Security)
I’m sorry, sir, but...
)Donnie Harris(
But what, you inept fuckwit? But...
-Donnie wheeled back and slapped the man in the face without any restraint. The uniformed security crumpled into a heap, hitting the floor in a daze. It looked like a reporter going down with the same slap many decades before.-
)Donnie Harris(
But what!? But MOTHER FUCKING WHAT!? Was the job too fucking hard for you or for your poxy little guards? Do you employ the dumbest of the dumb? Do you even hire licensed, trained guards? What’s your excuse!? WHAT’S YOUR FUCKING EXCUSE!?
-As the security supervisor tries to get to his feet, a thunderous kick to the ribs puts him right back down again, as legitimate security, not just the wrestlers in security shirts, rush in to protect their boss. Donnie almost levels a female guard with a backhand, but then a familiar voice echoes out from the distance.-
(Britlyn Baylor)
Donnie, you cut that out. You stop, right now.
-In her best and most authoritative power walk ever, the owner of OCW Blue, Britlyn Baylor, charges in the direction of Donnie and the security guards. She is flanked by a couple police officers as well, a pair of Salem’s finest, their hands on their tasers.-
(Britlyn Baylor)
Stop. Stop right now. Donnie, just... back off, alright?[/font]
-The officers assist the security guards restraining Donnie, as Donnie’s skin radiates with tangible heat as it turns red from the welts on his body. As the adrenaline starts to wear off, he clutches the side of his head where Damian got the luckiest Laid to Rest of his career.
As for Baylor, she helps the supervisor up, only to push him down herself.-
(Britlyn Baylor)
You failed big time. You and your guards are fired and you won’t be working for OCW next time we’re in Salem. You’ll be getting a call from our lawyers too, as your inability to control the crowd changed the finish of a very close match. Now leave.[/font]
-Donnie’s eyes almost seem to glow with the rage he was feeling.-
(Head of Security)
Alright, alright. Just... let’s go, guys. Leave him.
-Donnie is barely able to restrain himself as the security guards leave the site, keeping his control enough out of respect for the police officers. Britlyn approaches Donnie, her face softened, but she was still livid.-
(Britlyn Baylor)
You had no right to...[/font]
)Donnie Harris(
I had no right? I had no right!? The clown college dropouts the arena hired ruined my chance to win a title here in OCW, and you have the audacity to tell ME that I’m out of line? Is that it?
-Britlyn gently brushes the officers to either side, and her gaze, like steel, cuts Donnie down.-
(Britlyn Baylor)
Yeah, that’s what I said. I said that YOU, Donnie Harris, were out of line. You assaulted that man, and you should be considered fortunate that these two officers don’t arrest you for that assault. However, given the circumstances, the assault YOU perpetrated is being considered self-defense. After all, a fan did jump the barricade, counted the pinfall, and awarded you Damian’s title.[/font]
-Donnie goes to say something, but Britlyn raises a finger in his face, cutting him off right then and there.-
(Britlyn Baylor)
Yes, you heard me very clearly: DAMIAN’S title. He won; you lost. The fan interference is something that you can’t just ward away, and you know that you won’t just write it off. You are going to accept it. You ARE going to accept it.[/font]
-Donnie glares down at her, his gaze hardening.-
)Donnie Harris(
You... Owe... ME.
(Britlyn Baylor)
I owe you? I owe you what?[/font]
)Donnie Harris(
Even without a damn title around my waist, I am still the biggest name you’ve got on your damn roster. I am currently the PWA Streaming Service champion. Next to BRADDOCK and SYNN, even Colossus, I am one of the most dominant forces here that signed your contract. You owe me. You owe me for that unjust loss out there tonight, and you already admitted that it was an injustice that occurred out there.
-Britlyn holds up both hands, pressing them to his chest and gently pushing off to make distance.-
(Britlyn Baylor)
You’re right. You’re right. You’re fucking right and I can’t help that right now, but you owe me right back. Your last performance against BRADDOCK was abysmal. It was not the Donnie Harris I hired! But all the same, you’re right about tonight. A fan, dressed in costume as a damn OCW referee, messed up the whole match; whether or not he was put up to it by the Calaways or not, we can’t know for sure, but you are right.[/font]
-Britlyn takes a deep breath and sighs, turning to walk away from him, still flustered about the situation.-
(Britlyn Baylor)
I’ll let you know. You’re on the card for the next Battleground; just keep that in mind, alright?[/font]
-Donnie’s breathing was still heavy, his head still throbbing as Britlyn walked away. One of the officers turned Donnie to face them, giving him a quick once-over.-
(SPD Officer)
You’re alright, man. We did end up arresting the guy; blew a 0.1 on the breathalyzer. At least we got him. Hit the showers and go sleep it off. Even if you don’t sleep it off, work it out, alright? We don’t want to take you in too; you’ve already had a rough night.
-Donnie stays silent, his emotions visibly getting to him as his eyes water.-
(SPD Officer)
Go, dude. Go on.
-Beaten, defeated, Donnie solemnly walks away to the locker room, hoping that he’s the only one there by the time he arrives.-
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