Summary: Not everything is perfect among co-workers in the WWF.. but what does an outsider know about any of that? Or, will she even care at all with her apathetic attitude?
Rated: R for some really bad words (in later chapters) and some innuendo.
Disclaimer: Vince McMahon and WWFE owns AAAALMOST everything... but I have some claims! Myself and Mr. Schulze and his five or so lines are copyrighted to me, but Adia, Charlie and Ben own themselves. And also, because she asked, Adia's penname is Adia SB - go read her stuff! It's really good!
The Few, The Proud
by Dezzie-Chan ^.^
I arrived at work at about 7:10, according to my watch. My watch had a notorious reputation for being either five minutes early or five minutes late, so I could never fully trust it, but Mr. Schulze, my boss, really didn't care, I don't think. As I put my Civic into park, I took a look at the other cars to see who was here.
A red SUV signified Charlie Morgan was there. The resident "quiet, shy guy" was always there early. He was around my age, but I never really bothered to talk to him. It had crossed my mind to ask exactly how early he got to work, but I never did, because maybe I was a little scared to know. It wasn't healthy to show up early to a job like this. Other than that scary attribute, he was a pretty nice guy. I mean, he didn't talk a lot, he did his work, would take his lunch break and be back at work in a prompt half hour, and if you greeted him or asked what was up, he'd reply with a barely audible "hi".
There was also a black Jetta, belonging to Adia Silva. Adia was nice to talk to, and I'd like to think we had made pretty good friends. She was a year younger than me, and already doing sales pitches. She would usually come with one of our idea-makers and try to sell our would-be mad skillz, if you know what I mean. Her true dream was to be an actress, and I always hoped in the back of my mind she would get to do that. She had recited her own rendition of one scene out of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" for me, once. It was pretty good - better than my high school's rendition, anyway.
The last person I actually bothered to analyze, I never checked for. I didn't even know which car was his, or if he had a car; Ben Langham. He was a bit on the easy-going, almost lazy, side, but if he really wanted to do something, he could get it done. Unfortunately, I don't think logo design was in his best interest, and he was notorious for missed deadlines. Adia and I had gone to get coffee with him a few times, though, and he was a great guy to hang out with. He was lots of laughs, really.
I had no idea at the time how close we would all end up being.
I walked in, and waved to Adia from where she sat at her desk. At the moment she was typing on her computer, and she mouthed a "good morning, sunshine!" to me, with a big sarcastic grin. I contemplated flipping her off, but instead I just gave her a wry smile and rolled my eyes. I attempted to wave at Charlie, but he was absorbed in his own reflection, staring back at him from his coffee cup. Ben wasn't at his desk, and probably wasn't even at work yet, seeing as he was always late. Everyone else generally pissed me off, so I didn't bother waving or being pleasant with them. I sat down at my desk, still tired, and toyed with some of the leaves on my potted plant I had next to my computer. I must have stayed in that comatose state for a good half hour, flicking the rubber-like leaf back and forth, until I heard my boss's door open. I immediately sat up, snatched up my portfolio and grabbed out the papers, acting as if I had been studying every contour of Tiki Dan's face. It was funny; whenever that door opened, the quiet murmur of the half-asleep employees was replaced with the busy hussle and bustle of a full-swing workplace.
I did such a good job pretending to be interested in a little Tiki god-ish sketch, that I think I actually was able to tune out the rest of the workplace, and didn't notice Mr. Schulze looming over my desk. He wasn't a big man, but he was very tall, pushing 6'3" or so, which to a shortie like me was big. He was gaunt and haggard, and had these very small frosted-glass spectacles that made his eyes look beady. He was like the scary boss from hell, I swear to God. He never smiled, but would occasionally do this "How The Grinch Stole Christmas" grin.
"Ms. King."
His croak snapped me out of my careful studies, and I looked up at him meekly.
"I, uh, good morning, Mr. Schulze.. I was just trying to decide if Tiki Dan here was too... um... detail-oriented..." I slowly pieced together. I had very outgoing thoughts, but my verbalizations to people were usually pretty weak-willed.
"Forget that silly thing!" he snapped, snatching away my papers, and leaning further over my desk. "I have someone on line 2 who is willing to pay a lot of money for cheap work." He flashed that signature Grinchy grin. "You came first to mind. You turn out the best work for the least pay."
He started to laugh, but it sounded more like a donkey choking. Which reminded me how much I wished he would choke on a donkey's ... well, there's no need to get vulgar.
"You realize I'll get the credit as we are an agency--" He was always saying that. He can't give me individual credit, because we're an agency, we're a collective. My ideas are their ideas! Wonderful, eh? "--but I know how much you love your barbeque sauce ads."
I could hear someone laugh, and I wanted to strangle them, but instead I just smiled as sweetly as possible. "Oh, yes, of course." Then, through clenched teeth, "It's my talent."
Someone else laughed in response to that, which didn't help my mood, but I didn't dare lash out at the source of the laugh, right now. Besides, I didn't know what I'd say to them, anyway.
"Well," Mr. Schulze placed the papers back on my desk lethargically. "I'll tell them they can go ahead and send down a representative to talk to you. It may involve some travelling, mind you..."
I blinked, and frowned slightly. I had never had to travel for something before. "Travel, Mr. Schulze?"
"The owner of the product can't be here to talk to you, directly, he has a very binding schedule. Luckily, he's very concerned with his product, and wishes to speak with you about it. You could call it his second hobby, from what he said on the phone."
I cleared my throat. "If I may ask, do I have to pay my own way there? And is it very far?"
Mr. Schulze rolled his eyes as if I were an idiot. "He's paying for you, and a few others from our agency. I wouldn't trust just you." Ouch. That really hurt. "And it's not too far. He's making an appearance in Anahiem this Monday, and will be in the area until early Wednesday."
I didn't bother asking how anyone who would call this agency would be important enough to make appearances, or be able to pay for multiple plane trips from San Francisco to Anahiem, but instead asked a more important question.
"Is this going to be a very long assignment?"
Mr. Schulze took that time to tactfully drop a large portfolio down on my desk. "Go home and pack. Take a look at these, and be ready to receive a phone call to tell you where to go at the airport. Apparently they have it all set up." I smiled, almost genuinely, and nodded as Mr. Schulze walked off, most likely to go collect the "few others" he had mentioned were coming along.
Goody goody. It was almost like a day off! Despite the fact I felt like I was in a very odd James Bond movie, this wasn't too bad. A trip to Anahiem, one very mysterious employer, no more Tiki Dan...
I gathered up my stuff, and flashed an almost too huge smile to Adia on the way out. She furrowed her brows, and adjusting her glasses, made a motion with her hand for me to call her. I nodded enthusiastically, and put a skip in my step as I heard the jingle of the door closing behind me. Wow, was I ever overexcited about this! So, I did what all overexcited people do - I went to go get some coffee so I wouldn't lose the feeling.
As I sat in the coffee shop, sipping at a mocha, I decided to look over the papers. It was, more than likely, some really rich entrepeneur in the world of barbeque sauce. It brought a smile to my face to think that. How funny would it be to see some rich snob attempting to market a condiment? And how silly to ask this agency. I knew we gave cheap service, but you'd think they could afford better! I opened the manilla envelope still silently laughing to myself about it, and began to browse the papers. The first thing in the stack was a letter, which kind of surprised me. Normally, the manufacturer, or owner, won't send you a personal letter. It even had a hand-written signature on it!
Wow, Mr. Schulze wasn't lying when he said the guy was concerned with his product! I thought to myself, slightly amused.
However, I was not amused by the end of the letter. I was in disbelief, and half-convinced I was the victim of a practical joke.
September 14, 2001
Hilton San Jose & Towers
300 Almaden Blvd.
San Jose, CA 95110
Room No. 264
Dear Sir or Madam,
First, let me thank you for your time spent on this personal project of mine. It means so much for me to have this sauce succeed, as it does for most owners.
I've been having lots of troubles getting it to catch on, despite the position I have in my business. It has a lot of free advertising, if you will. I want something very catchy for it, that will get people interested in different sorts of media will buy it. I'm sure you've already been informed that it's just a barbeque sauce, but it is so much more to me. Barbeque sauce is my second life, besides the one I have on the road and at home, that is. Plus, I could use the extra money, believe it or not. Daddy needs a new black resistol hat!
All joking aside, I much appreciate Schulze Advertising Agency's efforts to give me a more-than-reasonably priced chance at getting word out that my barbeque sauce is the best! I'm sure you are up to the task. I've had a flight and hotel stay arranged for you in Anahiem, so you need not venture out of state. I can thank my lucky stars our company is currently in the beautiful Golden State, and not too far from San Francisco. I also have a meeting arranged for us, and I caution you beforehand, it may be shaky, but we'll find a way through it.
I hope you find all the accomodations hospitable, and look forward to talking to you soon.
Until Next Time,
J.R.
Jim Ross
Author's Note: Okay, there it is, Chapter 2! I know, I know, I posted it before I had any reviews.. oh, wait, I did have a review! Yay! And it was a good review, double yay! So I hope at least one person is happy. I know I am, so far... it's a bit lengthy, and I know, I know, it's very corny... but it's hard to find any other way into the superstars' lives that won't be overdone. I'm trying to be original. You're still MORE than welcome to review! Next chapter, I guarantee there will be superstars involved... promise!
Rated: R for some really bad words (in later chapters) and some innuendo.
Disclaimer: Vince McMahon and WWFE owns AAAALMOST everything... but I have some claims! Myself and Mr. Schulze and his five or so lines are copyrighted to me, but Adia, Charlie and Ben own themselves. And also, because she asked, Adia's penname is Adia SB - go read her stuff! It's really good!
The Few, The Proud
by Dezzie-Chan ^.^
I arrived at work at about 7:10, according to my watch. My watch had a notorious reputation for being either five minutes early or five minutes late, so I could never fully trust it, but Mr. Schulze, my boss, really didn't care, I don't think. As I put my Civic into park, I took a look at the other cars to see who was here.
A red SUV signified Charlie Morgan was there. The resident "quiet, shy guy" was always there early. He was around my age, but I never really bothered to talk to him. It had crossed my mind to ask exactly how early he got to work, but I never did, because maybe I was a little scared to know. It wasn't healthy to show up early to a job like this. Other than that scary attribute, he was a pretty nice guy. I mean, he didn't talk a lot, he did his work, would take his lunch break and be back at work in a prompt half hour, and if you greeted him or asked what was up, he'd reply with a barely audible "hi".
There was also a black Jetta, belonging to Adia Silva. Adia was nice to talk to, and I'd like to think we had made pretty good friends. She was a year younger than me, and already doing sales pitches. She would usually come with one of our idea-makers and try to sell our would-be mad skillz, if you know what I mean. Her true dream was to be an actress, and I always hoped in the back of my mind she would get to do that. She had recited her own rendition of one scene out of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" for me, once. It was pretty good - better than my high school's rendition, anyway.
The last person I actually bothered to analyze, I never checked for. I didn't even know which car was his, or if he had a car; Ben Langham. He was a bit on the easy-going, almost lazy, side, but if he really wanted to do something, he could get it done. Unfortunately, I don't think logo design was in his best interest, and he was notorious for missed deadlines. Adia and I had gone to get coffee with him a few times, though, and he was a great guy to hang out with. He was lots of laughs, really.
I had no idea at the time how close we would all end up being.
I walked in, and waved to Adia from where she sat at her desk. At the moment she was typing on her computer, and she mouthed a "good morning, sunshine!" to me, with a big sarcastic grin. I contemplated flipping her off, but instead I just gave her a wry smile and rolled my eyes. I attempted to wave at Charlie, but he was absorbed in his own reflection, staring back at him from his coffee cup. Ben wasn't at his desk, and probably wasn't even at work yet, seeing as he was always late. Everyone else generally pissed me off, so I didn't bother waving or being pleasant with them. I sat down at my desk, still tired, and toyed with some of the leaves on my potted plant I had next to my computer. I must have stayed in that comatose state for a good half hour, flicking the rubber-like leaf back and forth, until I heard my boss's door open. I immediately sat up, snatched up my portfolio and grabbed out the papers, acting as if I had been studying every contour of Tiki Dan's face. It was funny; whenever that door opened, the quiet murmur of the half-asleep employees was replaced with the busy hussle and bustle of a full-swing workplace.
I did such a good job pretending to be interested in a little Tiki god-ish sketch, that I think I actually was able to tune out the rest of the workplace, and didn't notice Mr. Schulze looming over my desk. He wasn't a big man, but he was very tall, pushing 6'3" or so, which to a shortie like me was big. He was gaunt and haggard, and had these very small frosted-glass spectacles that made his eyes look beady. He was like the scary boss from hell, I swear to God. He never smiled, but would occasionally do this "How The Grinch Stole Christmas" grin.
"Ms. King."
His croak snapped me out of my careful studies, and I looked up at him meekly.
"I, uh, good morning, Mr. Schulze.. I was just trying to decide if Tiki Dan here was too... um... detail-oriented..." I slowly pieced together. I had very outgoing thoughts, but my verbalizations to people were usually pretty weak-willed.
"Forget that silly thing!" he snapped, snatching away my papers, and leaning further over my desk. "I have someone on line 2 who is willing to pay a lot of money for cheap work." He flashed that signature Grinchy grin. "You came first to mind. You turn out the best work for the least pay."
He started to laugh, but it sounded more like a donkey choking. Which reminded me how much I wished he would choke on a donkey's ... well, there's no need to get vulgar.
"You realize I'll get the credit as we are an agency--" He was always saying that. He can't give me individual credit, because we're an agency, we're a collective. My ideas are their ideas! Wonderful, eh? "--but I know how much you love your barbeque sauce ads."
I could hear someone laugh, and I wanted to strangle them, but instead I just smiled as sweetly as possible. "Oh, yes, of course." Then, through clenched teeth, "It's my talent."
Someone else laughed in response to that, which didn't help my mood, but I didn't dare lash out at the source of the laugh, right now. Besides, I didn't know what I'd say to them, anyway.
"Well," Mr. Schulze placed the papers back on my desk lethargically. "I'll tell them they can go ahead and send down a representative to talk to you. It may involve some travelling, mind you..."
I blinked, and frowned slightly. I had never had to travel for something before. "Travel, Mr. Schulze?"
"The owner of the product can't be here to talk to you, directly, he has a very binding schedule. Luckily, he's very concerned with his product, and wishes to speak with you about it. You could call it his second hobby, from what he said on the phone."
I cleared my throat. "If I may ask, do I have to pay my own way there? And is it very far?"
Mr. Schulze rolled his eyes as if I were an idiot. "He's paying for you, and a few others from our agency. I wouldn't trust just you." Ouch. That really hurt. "And it's not too far. He's making an appearance in Anahiem this Monday, and will be in the area until early Wednesday."
I didn't bother asking how anyone who would call this agency would be important enough to make appearances, or be able to pay for multiple plane trips from San Francisco to Anahiem, but instead asked a more important question.
"Is this going to be a very long assignment?"
Mr. Schulze took that time to tactfully drop a large portfolio down on my desk. "Go home and pack. Take a look at these, and be ready to receive a phone call to tell you where to go at the airport. Apparently they have it all set up." I smiled, almost genuinely, and nodded as Mr. Schulze walked off, most likely to go collect the "few others" he had mentioned were coming along.
Goody goody. It was almost like a day off! Despite the fact I felt like I was in a very odd James Bond movie, this wasn't too bad. A trip to Anahiem, one very mysterious employer, no more Tiki Dan...
I gathered up my stuff, and flashed an almost too huge smile to Adia on the way out. She furrowed her brows, and adjusting her glasses, made a motion with her hand for me to call her. I nodded enthusiastically, and put a skip in my step as I heard the jingle of the door closing behind me. Wow, was I ever overexcited about this! So, I did what all overexcited people do - I went to go get some coffee so I wouldn't lose the feeling.
As I sat in the coffee shop, sipping at a mocha, I decided to look over the papers. It was, more than likely, some really rich entrepeneur in the world of barbeque sauce. It brought a smile to my face to think that. How funny would it be to see some rich snob attempting to market a condiment? And how silly to ask this agency. I knew we gave cheap service, but you'd think they could afford better! I opened the manilla envelope still silently laughing to myself about it, and began to browse the papers. The first thing in the stack was a letter, which kind of surprised me. Normally, the manufacturer, or owner, won't send you a personal letter. It even had a hand-written signature on it!
Wow, Mr. Schulze wasn't lying when he said the guy was concerned with his product! I thought to myself, slightly amused.
However, I was not amused by the end of the letter. I was in disbelief, and half-convinced I was the victim of a practical joke.
September 14, 2001
Hilton San Jose & Towers
300 Almaden Blvd.
San Jose, CA 95110
Room No. 264
Dear Sir or Madam,
First, let me thank you for your time spent on this personal project of mine. It means so much for me to have this sauce succeed, as it does for most owners.
I've been having lots of troubles getting it to catch on, despite the position I have in my business. It has a lot of free advertising, if you will. I want something very catchy for it, that will get people interested in different sorts of media will buy it. I'm sure you've already been informed that it's just a barbeque sauce, but it is so much more to me. Barbeque sauce is my second life, besides the one I have on the road and at home, that is. Plus, I could use the extra money, believe it or not. Daddy needs a new black resistol hat!
All joking aside, I much appreciate Schulze Advertising Agency's efforts to give me a more-than-reasonably priced chance at getting word out that my barbeque sauce is the best! I'm sure you are up to the task. I've had a flight and hotel stay arranged for you in Anahiem, so you need not venture out of state. I can thank my lucky stars our company is currently in the beautiful Golden State, and not too far from San Francisco. I also have a meeting arranged for us, and I caution you beforehand, it may be shaky, but we'll find a way through it.
I hope you find all the accomodations hospitable, and look forward to talking to you soon.
Until Next Time,
J.R.
Jim Ross
Author's Note: Okay, there it is, Chapter 2! I know, I know, I posted it before I had any reviews.. oh, wait, I did have a review! Yay! And it was a good review, double yay! So I hope at least one person is happy. I know I am, so far... it's a bit lengthy, and I know, I know, it's very corny... but it's hard to find any other way into the superstars' lives that won't be overdone. I'm trying to be original. You're still MORE than welcome to review! Next chapter, I guarantee there will be superstars involved... promise!