What Goes Up.. Must Come Down... Literally!

[Shianne Lovelace]

Chris is standing in front of John Carter, who is sitting down on a chair in front of him, white as a ghost. Chris, for the first time, looks crazily pissed off. Chris turns and points at a monitor, which is paused at the part of the Riot taping where John gets thrown off a semi-truck trailer.

 

Chris: Would you mind explaining that to me? At all?

 

John: Well uh… y’see…

 

Chris punches John in the shoulder as hard as he could. John winces a little.

 

Chris: It doesn’t matter what your explanation is! Why the hell did I see you falling twenty feet last night?! And not only that, but you didn’t SELL it either! What is wrong with you! All this ‘We’re wrestlers’ crap and you can’t even do it yourself?!

 

Chris steps back and covers his face with one hand, the other on his hip as he thinks. Surely there’d be no recovering from this. John may as well have taken their entire gimmick and credibility and tossed it out the goddamn window. So now he has to deal with this shitshow John created, and Tyler Walker coming after him next week.

 

John: Chris, I-

 

Chris: Shut up!

 

John sits in the corner, in his chair, looking down at the floor like a little kid being scolded for touching the stove again.

 

John: I… I really didn’t think he was going to follow me all the way up there… I told him not to…

 

Chris: Can it, Carter! I’m thinking… there’s got to be a way.. A way to salvage this. I simply can’t believe you, after all we’ve done in our careers and all we’re going to do? It was a backstage brawl, and you managed to throw yourself off of something really high. HOW?! HOW does that HAPPEN?!

 

Chris furiously paces back and forth trying to come up with a new take, a new angle… anything to salvage this mess. After about five minutes, he sighs, defeated.

 

Chris: Whatever. You’re buying me groceries for the next month, and you’re going to help me install a new lock on my apartment door so you can’t barge in like you did last week. I’ll figure something out… or you will, but we better make something out of this and spin it in a way to work for us… otherwise you may have killed us with that shit. You’re like a toddler, I can’t leave you alone for one week. I do that and you do something incredibly stupid! Now let’s get out of here, you disappointing bastard, before I keep thinking about it and punch you in the mouth.

 

They walk away. Chris ponders over what to do next, especially about Tyler. Whatever he was going to do, he had to use it to make a statement.. Or something like that. He just couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that John did any of that, especially since he’s the main face of Wrestling Club. Now Tyler and Derek are calling them Trash Club, too, and that didn’t jive well with Chris. Something had to be done.