"How about we build Goldberg as the beer-chugging, finger-flipping, boss-hating working class kind of man who embarks on a long feud with Bischoff?"
"Oh, yeah, that'll really stop the Goldberg-Austin comparisons!"
"Well, then, what if we do this angle where Stacy and Steiner break up, and Steiner gets Victoria as his valet, but as he's fighting Steven Richards and subsequently loses, Victoria turns on him and starts beating him down, causing all his steroid-pumped muscles to jiggle rather unattractively and prompting Stacy to run in from the crowds and miraculously beat up Victoria and chase her and Richards away, and she then turns to Steiner and they exchange emotional looks before embracing, and we have this lovely tear-jerking moment, and--"
"And won't that be just a fabulous mid-card rehash of the Miss Elizabeth/Randy Savage storyline?"
"All right, how about this: we forget about good storylines or feuds, and gun straight for the publicity jugular? A massive, over-hyped, gimmick-driven WWE extravaganza of some sort, one that will draw a lot of cheap media attention and sucker in thousands of new fans?"
Vince
straightened up at this new suggestion, tapping his chin thoughtfully and
murmuring to himself, "Hmm, that just might work." The writer who'd made
the suggestion smirked triumphantly at his boss's approval, but one little
sentence from Jim Ross happily propelled the entire WWE creative team back
to Square One.
"Only
problem is," good old J.R. pointed out, "what kind of extravaganza will
generate so much good publicity?" At that, the writers and creative consultants
all leaned back in their chairs to brainstorm, but Vince wasn't too worried
by such a minor setback--after all, this was the same creative team that
had come up with such groundbreaking ideas as the Katie Vick necrophilia
angle, Dawn Marie humping Torrie's father to death, and giving Billy Gunn
his 17897378909th failed push. They were sure to come up with at least
one
innovative idea for a publicity-sucking WWE extravaganza.
Five Long Hours Later...
"How
about a WWE jingle-writing contest...?"
"A
soap opera starring our best-established Superstars, with Sable and a re-signed
Hulk Hogan as the female and male leads. We can call it The Old And
The Useless."
"A
partnership with Hershey's--I can see the slogan now: Bite Into Your Favorite
Wrestler."
"What
do you think of a WWE amusement park--WrestleMania Land, The Crappiest
Place On Earth!"
"Hey,
we can always go for another gay wedding, you know..."
Vince,
meanwhile, stood in a corner, vigorously tying the last knot on his noose
and preparing to hang the first of his writers, when a sudden loud snore
caught his attention, and he crossed the conference room to slam the door
wide open. Chris Jericho's body promptly spilled forward, the first in
a long line of WWE Superstars who'd been eavesdropping on the meeting from
behind the door but had all fallen asleep as one lousy and/or boring idea
was tossed out after another.
"Ahem."
Vince crossed his arms and impatiently tapped his foot until Jericho gave
one last loud snore and finally woke up, gulping nervously when he found
himself staring right into the boss's face.
"Care
to explain yourself?" Vince demanded pointedly, causing the blonde Canadian
to nervously pull at his collar while mumbling, "Sure of course. We were,
uh, we were all just, you know...Here, Christian'll be able to explain
this much better than I ever can!" And he quickly grabbed his fellow Canadian
and shoved him forward, still asleep. Christian gave a loud snort, right
into Vince's face, causing him to step back in disgust and Jericho to mumble,
"Or maybe he won't."
"Is
that Chris Jericho by the door?" Pat Patterson's voice floated over from
somewhere in the conference room. "Tell him I said hi, Vinnie, while I
go and change into something that's more flattering to give him a very
special welcome!" Jericho gulped in dismay when he heard those words, before
quickly ranting, "I've gotta go, but, uh, the little green-haired comic
book geek behind me can tell you all about it, kay, see you around, Vince!"
And he scampered away from the room like a blonde bat out of Hell, kicking
up a makeshift little dust trail behind him.
Vince
now turned his attention to the luckless Shane Helms, who'd unfortunately
just woken up from his superheroic nap and now stood ready for questioning.
"We
were, uh," he stammered so very intelligently, "we were...Tell him, Matt!"
"We
were...Shannon, why don't you tell him all about it?" Matt Hardy quickly
unloaded all the responsibilities onto shoulders of his little MF'r.
"We
were eavesdropping on your executive meeting, sir, but all fell asleep
because your ideas were boring beyond belief," the fair-haired cruiserweight
answered truthfully, causing his fellow North Carolina natives to simultaneously
smack their foreheads in exasperation.
"Well,
at least I can admire your honesty there, young man," Vince muttered darkly,
causing Matt to gulp and pipe up in an effort to repair some of Shannon's
honest damage, "And now we've woken up to present you with a great idea
for the publicity extravaganza!"
"We
have?" Shane none too subtly elbowed him in the ribs, hissing in a lower
voice, "You'd better make this good, Hardy."
"Shut
up, you SHIT-master," Matt hissed back from the corner of his mouth, plastering
on a great big phony smile for Vince while fumbling around, "Of course
we have, Your Majesty. It's, uh...You see, summer music festivals are all
the rage these days, and they have such a great publicity-drawing history,
like Woodstock and Ozzfest. At least that's what I think, Jeff tends to
exaggerate when he gives his reports, especially if he's giving them right
after Skittles Time."
"So
what you're saying, Hardy," Vince murmured thoughtfully, beginning to catch
on, "is that the WWE's big publicity extravaganza should be our very own
summer festival?"
"That's
right," Matt nodded enthusiastically, while Shannon piped in, "Hey, you
can even call it a combination of Woodstock and Ozzfest, like Woodfest!"
"Not
a good idea, Shan," the Innovator of Mattitude (Version 1) quickly shushed
his sidekick.
"WWE
Does Beverly Hillbillies!" a writer called out his suggestion, and
Vince cringed at the crappiness of the idea, before turning back to his
wrestlers and saying brusquely, "All right, Hardy, we'll do your festival.
Anything's got to be better than a jingle contest or another gay wedding!"
Matt brightened up.
"Great.
Does that mean I get a raise?" he ventured hopefully.
"No,"
came the equally bright response, as Vince looked at his watch and frowned.
"Now all we need is to recruit the bands that will play in this summer
festival alongside the WWE Superstars."
