June 6, 2016
103 days to go.
Ever since the WWE made the announcement that Smackdown would be going live on Tuesday nights, Eleanor's mind had been in overdrive mode – it was almost as if her wedding, the most important day of her life, was taking second fiddle. There was no clear indication on anything regarding the move to Tuesdays being live. Would the writers be split? Would the producers work both shows or only one? How would the talent be split? What about the titles? She kept thinking back to a conversation she had with Paul in confidence just a day after the announcement…
"Something is obviously bothering you about this announcement since you keep bringing it up. Either you tell me or I'm going to start guessing," Paul said. "And you know how long I like to guess for."
Eleanor pursed her lips. "Paul…I've never pulled my weight around here, ever. I've always done what you've asked me. And now I need to tell you something."
"What?"
Eleanor paused. "He stays on Raw, Paul."
There was a silence between the two, Paul realizing what Eleanor meant. "Nothing's set in stone, but I'll see wh-"
"NO, Paul. He stays on Raw. He stays on the flagship show."
"Don't put this all on me. You're gonna be in the decision room too. You're gonna be in those meetings."
Eleanor was taken aback by what Paul was saying. "I am?"
Paul let out an exasperated sigh. "Of course you are, Eleanor! You're a producer now! You contribute to the show!"
"But you always get the final say."
"Vince always gets the final say. Impress him enough at the meeting and he'll listen to you."
She had the date written in her calendar. July 16, at the Stamford offices, would be the meeting with all the writers, producers, and Vince McMahon. That's when they were going to make the decisions. She shuddered just thinking about it.
And now, she was shuddering about Monday Night Raw. It was her first official night as a producer. She felt like she was going to throw up since that morning. In the production meeting before the show, she was given the responsibility of producing the AJ Styles/John Cena promo for that night. Adam and Sara had championed for her to do it. She thanked them profusely, but on the inside she was more scared than she'd ever been in her life. If she fucked this up, if it all went tits up, she knew she'd be gone; relegated back to an assistant or another position. Rami tried his best to calm her nerves, but even at his best and most caring, nothing could help.
When she read over the script the writers gave her, she not only became nervous, she became angry. The words printed on the page had been said millions of times before, in promos for Randy Orton, The Rock, and any other champion or "top guy" throughout the decades. It was nothing new. She hated it, and she knew the fans would hate it. She felt like ripping it up, throwing it in the garbage, and re-writing it herself. She knew only the seasoned and most trusted producers were allowed to do that, but part of her wanted to do it anyway. All she needed was the push…
Before her thoughts could go any further, a towering figure approached her – none other than John Cena. "I heard I have the new girl producing me tonight," he smiled at her. Allen was following close behind, obviously wanting in on the conversation. "Did you write for us, too?" John asked.
Eleanor shook her head. "No. And that's the problem. I'm going to kill the writers."
"Why's that?" Allen asked.
"Listen…they've written something for you guys, but it's hot garbage," Eleanor began. "It's been seen 100 times before, and I'll be damned if my first segment has been done 100 times before."
"So what does this mean?" Allen asked.
She looked both men in the eye before proceeding. "How do you guys feel about re-writing? We have to come up with something together and execute it well so it gets people talking."
Allen and John looked at each other, smirking, knowing exactly where this was going. "Well I'm up for anything," John said. "What were you thinking?"
Eleanor took a deep breath. "This match is a big deal to a lot of people, so I want us to go full meta. Allen talks about you burying people. John can mention the Bullet Club, but don't actually say Bullet Club."
Eleanor watched as Allen and John's grins turned into full-out smiles. "Oh, this is gonna be good," Allen commented.
"Just remember to keep it within WWE perametres," she cautioned. "Bottom line is, I trust you guys. You've both been doing this for the better part of 15 years."
"You think the old boys will be okay with this?" John asked. "I don't want to get you in trouble on your first night."
The thought ran through Eleanor's mind, but she quickly rationalized that she was willing to take the risk. "Don't worry about it. I'm a big girl, I can handle it," she said.
"You sure?"
"I don't want you to take this the wrong way," Eleanor began, "but you're John Cena. You can kill a nun on a heap of dead puppies and Vince will still love you. So I think unless you really, really fuck up, which is highly unlikely, we'll all be fine."
John and Allen couldn't help but laugh at her comment. "We've got this, Eleanor," John assured her. "You've got nothing to worry about."
Eleanor nodded her head in understanding. She knew she could give advice on what to say, but they were professionals; they knew what they were doing. Plus, John knew how to work the crowd and come up with things on the fly based on their attitude and reactions. Anything too over-produced would kill the momentum going into the match. "I'll leave you guys to it, but I'll be back in about 10 or 15 minutes to get some notes and points."
"We'll see you soon, Eleanor," Allen waved.
XXXXXXXXXX
Eleanor felt like all eyes were on her during the segment. She was probably sweating through her clothes because she was so stressed. Allen began the promo, and Eleanor started calling out to the cameras.
"You insult me John Cena. You're great on the mic, that's what you do, you're great on your little morning shows, and your late night shows, your movies…not necessarily the ones you star in but your cameos are very entertaining…But you insult me…every time that bell rings. And I know it burns you up inside that even on your best day, you can't beat me," he waved his hands in front of his face in a mock you-can't-see-me motion. "Hey, I'll tell you the same things I tell me kids when they ask 'Dad, why haven't you ever wrestled John Cena?' It's simple. John doesn't want to be in the ring with me because I would run circles around him."
John cut in. "I see a man who worked two decades to try and make it on the grandest stage of them all, and then finally was a surprise entrant in the Royal Rumble, and did nothing," John said, to which the crowd 'oooooohhh'ed. "A man that was gifted an opportunity at the WWE championship and failed. And then, failed again. And instead of being a real man, shaking it off, dusting it off and getting right back into the action, you started to second-guess yourself. Because those little cronies you've been surrounding yourself with over the past 20 years have been saying your God's gift to sports entertainment…but you get here and you're a bust," garnering another 'oooooooh' from the crowd. "So you look to the one guy, the one guy…you think you can take me out is gonna save your ass. You can walk around these halls with your head held high and say 'I belong here'…Dude, that's not phenomenal, that's freakin' desperate. I wanna make something clear with you right now. You couldn't get past Roman Reigns, and now you pickin' a fight with John Cena? You do not know who you're dealing with."
John waited as the crowd cheered. Eleanor knew things were about to get good. "So Mr. Phenomenal," John continued, "Let me ask you one question. Why on Earth is it not AJ Styles versus John Cena, why is it now John Cena versus the Club?"
Eleanor took a deep breath. "Cause everybody who knows this place, knows that once you wrestle John Cena and lose, it's time to get out the shovels," Allen said. Then, of course, came the line, "Cause guys like you BURY guys like me!" from Allen. What seemed like everyone in the crowd let out an audible gasp. Eleanor quickly glanced over at Paul, who was trying to hide his smile with his hand. Vince still had his poker face on. The promo continued, with John bringing up the goons of the "Pull It Club". At this point, even Adam and Sara were visibly smiling; Paul, Eleanor could tell, was still smirking.
When the segment ended and they cut to commercial, Sara turned to Eleanor giving her a high five, while Adam patted her on the back. Finlay turned around and congratulated her.
Vince suddenly turned around, staring at Eleanor. "You were responsible for that?" he asked.
Eleanor gulped. "Yes sir."
"Hm," he nodded his head once, turning back in his seat, his poker face still in full effect. Eleanor didn't know what to make of the brief interaction. Was he happy? Upset? Disappointed?
As Eleanor settled back in, her phone buzzed from beside her and she noticed Paul's name flash across the screen. She looked at him and he was inconspicuous, not even holding his phone.
If he asks who is responsible, that generally means he liked it.
A wave of relief passed over her. Though it wasn't confirmation by any means, it eased her up a bit at least. Now all she had to do was survive the rest of Raw, and she'd be alright.
XXXXXXXXXX
By the time Raw was finished, Eleanor had managed to stop being so nervous and actually enjoy the moment. She hadn't gotten any feedback from Vince, but she half expected that. Paul, Adam, Sara, and most of her other new co-workers had congratulated her on her successful first night and a job well done. They gathered in for a group photo, making Eleanor promise she'd frame it and hang it somewhere, as a memento of her first night as a producer of Monday Night Raw. In some ways, that gesture meant the world to Eleanor, much more than feedback (or lack thereof) from Vince McMahon.
As she prepared to leave, she found Rami lingering in the hallways, having a conversation with Claudio before noticing her. They were all traveling together to Tulsa, Oklahoma for Smackdown. When he noticed her, his face lit up. "Hey," he smiled at her. "Ready to go?"
"Yeah, let's get going," she said, tugging her small suitcase behind her.
"How was your night?" Claudio asked her as the three made their way towards the parking lot.
Eleanor thought of the right words to say to such a question. "The most nerve-wracking but rewarding experience I've had with the company," she said.
Claudio and Rami couldn't help but smile at her choice of words. "What were you responsible for tonight?" Claudio asked again.
"The Cena and AJ Styles promo," Eleanor revealed.
Rami stopped walking for a brief second in disbelief. "You did that?" he asked, clearly shocked she would get something so important on her first night. "Eleanor, that segment was amazing."
She couldn't help but blush. "Yeah, we had to re-write it all, too. What I got from the writers was hot garbage, so I went to Allen and John and came up with…well, that."
"Great job," Claudio offered his congratulations. The men loaded the suitcases into the trunk of the car, Rami assuming the driving responsibility. Rami let Eleanor take the front seat while he occupied the back, stretching out his legs. Eleanor punched the address of their hotel in Tulsa into the GPS and, in no time, they were on the road.
As the three settled into casual conversation, Eleanor felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She saw Paul's name flash across the screen.
-Are you alone or with people? Can I call you?-
Eleanor thought that to be an odd request. Usually he just called – hell, he had no problem calling her in the middle of the night sometimes.
*I'm in a car with Rami and Claudio. What's up?*
Paul didn't respond for what felt like ages. He always dropped bombs and then waited for people to squirm. Eleanor was convinced it was his favourite type of punishment.
-Vince isn't too pleased that you did a re-write without consulting someone about it first.-
Eleanor gulped, the hairs on the back of her neck rising in fear.
*I thought you said he liked it*
"Everything okay?" she heard Claudio ask, glancing at her briefly from the driver's seat.
"Yeah, it's just Paul," she said, brushing him off.
"Tell him you're not his assistant anymore. He can't keep calling you at asinine hours," Rami piped in from the back.
Eleanor laughed absent-mindedly as another text came through.
-He did like it. He just isn't pleased that a new producer wouldn't consult someone who's been doing this for years, esp for a promo with the company's top stars.-
*So I over-asserted my position*
-Basically-
*What's my punishment?*
-That's for him to decide.-
