Post by Deleted on Aug 7, 2019 3:53:21 GMT -5
Board Room of the Masuda Corporation, Yokohama, Japan
Opening shot of a piano black table so long that only a few faces appear in frame. Masuda Jubei sits at the head wearing a white satin shirt with a Mandarin collar. His initials appear in gold katakana cufflinks. He then presses “talk” on the intercom.
Jubei: Can you hear us, Allen?
Allen: Yea, I’m here.
Jubei: Good…. Welcome my board of advisors. Czars of executive operation. Being here is an honor few in this entire world have earned. Let me warn you now, esteemed members, this will not be a standard presentation. It will outline the plan I’ve formulated over the past two years. One that spans from the liquidation of New Blood Wrestling to my current momentum in Alpha Pro Wrestling. Get comfortable. This will take some explaining. Are you still with us, Allen?
Allen: I’m ready.
Interns distribute packets to consternated faces. Jubei could not look any more pleased albeit all the visible bruises and bandages from his last match. He gives the room time to peruse everything while sipping on cucumber water. Masuda then corrals his people for the big presentation.
Jubei: I’m not answering questions today. My time before flying back to America is limited.
Mitsuha: (in Japanese) Jubei-sama, if I must, we’re not convinced by your projected models.
Allen: What’d she say?
Jubei: I’ll tell you later, Allen. Keep your line quiet for now.
Allen: All right. I’ll be here.
Jubei: (Jpn) We’re embarking on a new horizon for the Masuda Corporation, Mitsuha. Options outside our original parameters that are now possible with my new promotion. You see, my new affiliation with Allen Anderson is the first of many pieces to join a new movement in Alpha Puroresu.
Nakeshima: (Jpn) And what about our investments?
Jubei: (Jpn) If you keep shouting, you’ll have to listen to the rest from the lobby.
Nakeshima: (Eng) You there, on the intercom. What has he promised you?
Allen: Everything.
Allen’s stark answer leaves the executive shaken. A few raps of the table regains order.
Jubei: Everyone, this meeting is not a fact-finding mission. You listen, you take these sheets home and I’ll tell you what parts pertain to each division of our company. I built it with my own hands. Don’t think that for a second I’m leveraging it for something that won’t be both enterprising and profitable. Now I need everyone to turn to page three so we can cover funds distribution.
The next two hours—plus a serving of coffee, tea and snacks—satisfies the board’s worries. Jubei then leaves their chatter for the refuge of his office. There awaits one of his oldest constituents, Amada Takeshi, in his most nervous posture yet. His windowed office makes the whole place look more like a Plexiglas exhibit than a place of business. Yokohama’s skyline looms omnipresent of their affairs.
Jubei: Takeshi, arrange for the worker’s permits of my top thirty agents.
Takeshi: Already underway, Jubei-sama. Our Consulate in Houston expects to finalize their permits in time for the Fort Worth show. Which I have to say, sir, your performances have been amazing!
Jubei: Is the line open for Allen?
Takeshi: Just hit the “call” button, Jubei-sama.
As promised, Allen’s voice comes through the intercom despite sounding exhausted.
Allen: Please, no more spreadsheets. You’re killing me, Jubei.
Jubei: We had to make our expenditures appear normal. While we’re not breaking laws, per say, it’ll buy us a few months without the board asking too many questions.
Allen: Do I need to keep pretending to be a suit?
Jubei: You’re off the hook. But I still want to plan our attacks for this week. I’m assuming you’ve had a chance to look at this drunken missive Ivanov released to the public.
Allen: I’ll get another crack at Jaice Wilds. You don’t have to convince me.
Jubei: Problem is, she’s trying to muck things up by bringing Wilds and the man who wants my title together. It’s a cheap move for the fans. Something simply for ticket sales. And because this entire roster wants to punch me in the face, fans want nothing more than to see us lose.
Allen: Isn’t that what you wanted?
They share a laugh. Takeshi laughs last and continues well after them both. The Master slips into his office chair and then kicks his wingtips up on his desk.
Jubei: What do we know about Jaice wilds? He’s hungry. He’s determined. And like you, Allen, his mouth is the biggest hole on his body.
Allen: Fuck you.
Jubei: Calling it as is, Allen. He’s the type to work towards a goal without knowing how to achieve it. I saw it in him from day one. He was never ready to fight as that Racer X persona—only that we had no reason to suspect he was Speed Racer’s brother from the start. Are you following?
Allen: Not really, but keep going.
Jubei twirls a pen while Takeshi sits beside himself.
Jubei: We need to bring the fight to him because he’s their weak link. Fans might be behind him at first, but they won’t be after we expose what little he brings to this amalgamation our overlord of Metal hopes will be cohesive. God, I’m starting to sound like those Canadians now.
Allen: Yeah.
Jubei: Anyways, we must keep Smith Jones out for as long as possible. I don’t care if you knock him off the turnbuckle or low blow him. Just keep him from tagging into the match.
Allen: You’re not scared of him, are you?
Jubei: No… but we need to keep the people from rallying behind these two. Jaice won’t have the same effect on the crowd as will the top challenger to my title. They don’t respect Wilds the same as “Smitty”, and we should expect him to feel heroic before Alpha’s crowds. We’re better off not feeding that.
Takeshi, seemingly entranced, grabs the antique lantern flickering red light on Jubei’s desk.
Jubei: Put that down or I’ll have your arm.
Takeshi: Sorry, Jubei-sama.
Jubei: What did I say about touching my lantern?
Takeshi: That I—
Jubei: Get out before I throw you through one of those windows.
Takeshi bows.
Jubei: Get out!
Allen: Damn.
Jubei: Sorry, I don’t like people touching my stuff. Almost as much as I hate losing.
Allen: But we took out Nyeo. You got revenge on him for calling you out on Twitter.
Jubei: I had to crush him, Allen. If we didn’t, everyone with a goddamn phone could log on to that site and question my place as champion. They waste their days spamming memes that I then have to spend another hour trying to research and comprehend—all because I don’t time with a Reddit account.
Allen: You could just ask me.
Jubei: You know I’m too self-sufficient to do that. Which is what makes this loss to Nyeo Son so much more infuriating.
Allen: I lost too, Jubei. But aren’t you the one that said—
Jubei: That a loss is one battle in the war. Exactly. All we have to do is bounce back using these two as our punching bags. I hope you got a few more fists of fury left in those mits of yours?
Allen: Hell yeah, I was ready to kick their asses yesterday. You say the word and I’ll drop them!
The Master swivels his chair to face the heart of Yokohama. He leans back letting its midday light consume him in all its glory.
Jubei: When I assumed the head of this company, I knew there would be countless sacrifices. With every merger and new product came an equal share of setbacks. Yet we survived those dogdays to become one of the most dominant faces of Yokohama’s financial sector. When I think back to those early losses, I have to remember my rounded knuckles and baby fat cheeks. What it felt like to be nobody with an awesome, undying dream keeping me awake at night.
Allen: What’s it feel like to reach that high?
Jubei: I’ll tell you when I reach it.
Allen: But you’re World Champion. What else is there?
Jubei: First, we need to crush this tag match. You might not think a lot about Jones or Wilds, but they’re more than just obstacles. And before you plot how you’re going to break Jaice Wilds for a second time, I suggest we look into them further.
Allen: Okay, how about Wilds?
Jubei: Besides his publicity stunt, which backfired in Atlantic City, mind you, he acts just like Trent Page did all those weeks ago. He calls people out in the vain hope of reaching the highest plateau. Although his pursuit of gold blinds him—all the guy really wants is respect.
Allen: I can’t stand how thinks he can just call his shots.
Jubei: You know, there may be lessons in that for you too. Remember that our closest target is the one you hit first. Jaice distracts himself with his American dream. He works the job he’s given while dreaming of something out of his league. I know this because rumors swirl about him wanting to fight Odin Balfore. Funny how I once considered Odin a threat; instead, we should be throwing that giant ass a party.
Allen: Why?
Jubei: He took out the ASU, which puts us in position to become the force to police the locker room.
Allen: Damn straight.
Jubei: Smitty is more difficult to pin down… no pun intended. He’s made a name by being slingshot between matches. He wins and then he loses. Somewhere between these moments is a weakness we need to isolate and expose on national television. What Ivanov doesn’t realize is that she just ruined their next PPV by pitting us against one another. I get to find all the flaws in his game. What hurts and what works best on him. So what do you make of his demeanor?
Allen: People call him vanilla. They don’t even expect him to be a challenge for—
Jubei: That’s the kind of thinking that gets kings deposed. Once you reach this pinnacle, you don’t want to relinquish it. When deep down—deeper than the simple luster of platinum riveted to a leather strap—you begin to realize what it truly means to be champion of the world. You are the face and leading example. Yet as we demonstrated last week, when people step out of line… we put them back where they belong. Maybe that’s where we need to put ole Smitty. Right back where he belongs.
Jubei cracks open a Boss Coffee BLACK© and lets the afternoon shine back at him.
Jubei: The best part of being on the mountaintop is watching others try to climb it, Allen. I see that kid in a raggedy suit with business cards assembled from office stationary. How he broke the mold and became a master. They don’t want to understand the burden of being the king of APW. They just want to see the view from my window wearing my crown. A city of onlookers, jealous for a new life, thinking they have a plan to keep APW afloat. One loss didn’t keep me from taking this title from Braxton Locus’s hands. And one loss to Nyeo Son won’t derail us now. I’ll see you in Austin, Allen, because our era has just begun.
He ends the call yet remains focused on the cityscape, holding that patented Jubei smirk.
Opening shot of a piano black table so long that only a few faces appear in frame. Masuda Jubei sits at the head wearing a white satin shirt with a Mandarin collar. His initials appear in gold katakana cufflinks. He then presses “talk” on the intercom.
Jubei: Can you hear us, Allen?
Allen: Yea, I’m here.
Jubei: Good…. Welcome my board of advisors. Czars of executive operation. Being here is an honor few in this entire world have earned. Let me warn you now, esteemed members, this will not be a standard presentation. It will outline the plan I’ve formulated over the past two years. One that spans from the liquidation of New Blood Wrestling to my current momentum in Alpha Pro Wrestling. Get comfortable. This will take some explaining. Are you still with us, Allen?
Allen: I’m ready.
Interns distribute packets to consternated faces. Jubei could not look any more pleased albeit all the visible bruises and bandages from his last match. He gives the room time to peruse everything while sipping on cucumber water. Masuda then corrals his people for the big presentation.
Jubei: I’m not answering questions today. My time before flying back to America is limited.
Mitsuha: (in Japanese) Jubei-sama, if I must, we’re not convinced by your projected models.
Allen: What’d she say?
Jubei: I’ll tell you later, Allen. Keep your line quiet for now.
Allen: All right. I’ll be here.
Jubei: (Jpn) We’re embarking on a new horizon for the Masuda Corporation, Mitsuha. Options outside our original parameters that are now possible with my new promotion. You see, my new affiliation with Allen Anderson is the first of many pieces to join a new movement in Alpha Puroresu.
Nakeshima: (Jpn) And what about our investments?
Jubei: (Jpn) If you keep shouting, you’ll have to listen to the rest from the lobby.
Nakeshima: (Eng) You there, on the intercom. What has he promised you?
Allen: Everything.
Allen’s stark answer leaves the executive shaken. A few raps of the table regains order.
Jubei: Everyone, this meeting is not a fact-finding mission. You listen, you take these sheets home and I’ll tell you what parts pertain to each division of our company. I built it with my own hands. Don’t think that for a second I’m leveraging it for something that won’t be both enterprising and profitable. Now I need everyone to turn to page three so we can cover funds distribution.
The next two hours—plus a serving of coffee, tea and snacks—satisfies the board’s worries. Jubei then leaves their chatter for the refuge of his office. There awaits one of his oldest constituents, Amada Takeshi, in his most nervous posture yet. His windowed office makes the whole place look more like a Plexiglas exhibit than a place of business. Yokohama’s skyline looms omnipresent of their affairs.
Jubei: Takeshi, arrange for the worker’s permits of my top thirty agents.
Takeshi: Already underway, Jubei-sama. Our Consulate in Houston expects to finalize their permits in time for the Fort Worth show. Which I have to say, sir, your performances have been amazing!
Jubei: Is the line open for Allen?
Takeshi: Just hit the “call” button, Jubei-sama.
As promised, Allen’s voice comes through the intercom despite sounding exhausted.
Allen: Please, no more spreadsheets. You’re killing me, Jubei.
Jubei: We had to make our expenditures appear normal. While we’re not breaking laws, per say, it’ll buy us a few months without the board asking too many questions.
Allen: Do I need to keep pretending to be a suit?
Jubei: You’re off the hook. But I still want to plan our attacks for this week. I’m assuming you’ve had a chance to look at this drunken missive Ivanov released to the public.
Allen: I’ll get another crack at Jaice Wilds. You don’t have to convince me.
Jubei: Problem is, she’s trying to muck things up by bringing Wilds and the man who wants my title together. It’s a cheap move for the fans. Something simply for ticket sales. And because this entire roster wants to punch me in the face, fans want nothing more than to see us lose.
Allen: Isn’t that what you wanted?
They share a laugh. Takeshi laughs last and continues well after them both. The Master slips into his office chair and then kicks his wingtips up on his desk.
Jubei: What do we know about Jaice wilds? He’s hungry. He’s determined. And like you, Allen, his mouth is the biggest hole on his body.
Allen: Fuck you.
Jubei: Calling it as is, Allen. He’s the type to work towards a goal without knowing how to achieve it. I saw it in him from day one. He was never ready to fight as that Racer X persona—only that we had no reason to suspect he was Speed Racer’s brother from the start. Are you following?
Allen: Not really, but keep going.
Jubei twirls a pen while Takeshi sits beside himself.
Jubei: We need to bring the fight to him because he’s their weak link. Fans might be behind him at first, but they won’t be after we expose what little he brings to this amalgamation our overlord of Metal hopes will be cohesive. God, I’m starting to sound like those Canadians now.
Allen: Yeah.
Jubei: Anyways, we must keep Smith Jones out for as long as possible. I don’t care if you knock him off the turnbuckle or low blow him. Just keep him from tagging into the match.
Allen: You’re not scared of him, are you?
Jubei: No… but we need to keep the people from rallying behind these two. Jaice won’t have the same effect on the crowd as will the top challenger to my title. They don’t respect Wilds the same as “Smitty”, and we should expect him to feel heroic before Alpha’s crowds. We’re better off not feeding that.
Takeshi, seemingly entranced, grabs the antique lantern flickering red light on Jubei’s desk.
Jubei: Put that down or I’ll have your arm.
Takeshi: Sorry, Jubei-sama.
Jubei: What did I say about touching my lantern?
Takeshi: That I—
Jubei: Get out before I throw you through one of those windows.
Takeshi bows.
Jubei: Get out!
Allen: Damn.
Jubei: Sorry, I don’t like people touching my stuff. Almost as much as I hate losing.
Allen: But we took out Nyeo. You got revenge on him for calling you out on Twitter.
Jubei: I had to crush him, Allen. If we didn’t, everyone with a goddamn phone could log on to that site and question my place as champion. They waste their days spamming memes that I then have to spend another hour trying to research and comprehend—all because I don’t time with a Reddit account.
Allen: You could just ask me.
Jubei: You know I’m too self-sufficient to do that. Which is what makes this loss to Nyeo Son so much more infuriating.
Allen: I lost too, Jubei. But aren’t you the one that said—
Jubei: That a loss is one battle in the war. Exactly. All we have to do is bounce back using these two as our punching bags. I hope you got a few more fists of fury left in those mits of yours?
Allen: Hell yeah, I was ready to kick their asses yesterday. You say the word and I’ll drop them!
The Master swivels his chair to face the heart of Yokohama. He leans back letting its midday light consume him in all its glory.
Jubei: When I assumed the head of this company, I knew there would be countless sacrifices. With every merger and new product came an equal share of setbacks. Yet we survived those dogdays to become one of the most dominant faces of Yokohama’s financial sector. When I think back to those early losses, I have to remember my rounded knuckles and baby fat cheeks. What it felt like to be nobody with an awesome, undying dream keeping me awake at night.
Allen: What’s it feel like to reach that high?
Jubei: I’ll tell you when I reach it.
Allen: But you’re World Champion. What else is there?
Jubei: First, we need to crush this tag match. You might not think a lot about Jones or Wilds, but they’re more than just obstacles. And before you plot how you’re going to break Jaice Wilds for a second time, I suggest we look into them further.
Allen: Okay, how about Wilds?
Jubei: Besides his publicity stunt, which backfired in Atlantic City, mind you, he acts just like Trent Page did all those weeks ago. He calls people out in the vain hope of reaching the highest plateau. Although his pursuit of gold blinds him—all the guy really wants is respect.
Allen: I can’t stand how thinks he can just call his shots.
Jubei: You know, there may be lessons in that for you too. Remember that our closest target is the one you hit first. Jaice distracts himself with his American dream. He works the job he’s given while dreaming of something out of his league. I know this because rumors swirl about him wanting to fight Odin Balfore. Funny how I once considered Odin a threat; instead, we should be throwing that giant ass a party.
Allen: Why?
Jubei: He took out the ASU, which puts us in position to become the force to police the locker room.
Allen: Damn straight.
Jubei: Smitty is more difficult to pin down… no pun intended. He’s made a name by being slingshot between matches. He wins and then he loses. Somewhere between these moments is a weakness we need to isolate and expose on national television. What Ivanov doesn’t realize is that she just ruined their next PPV by pitting us against one another. I get to find all the flaws in his game. What hurts and what works best on him. So what do you make of his demeanor?
Allen: People call him vanilla. They don’t even expect him to be a challenge for—
Jubei: That’s the kind of thinking that gets kings deposed. Once you reach this pinnacle, you don’t want to relinquish it. When deep down—deeper than the simple luster of platinum riveted to a leather strap—you begin to realize what it truly means to be champion of the world. You are the face and leading example. Yet as we demonstrated last week, when people step out of line… we put them back where they belong. Maybe that’s where we need to put ole Smitty. Right back where he belongs.
Jubei cracks open a Boss Coffee BLACK© and lets the afternoon shine back at him.
Jubei: The best part of being on the mountaintop is watching others try to climb it, Allen. I see that kid in a raggedy suit with business cards assembled from office stationary. How he broke the mold and became a master. They don’t want to understand the burden of being the king of APW. They just want to see the view from my window wearing my crown. A city of onlookers, jealous for a new life, thinking they have a plan to keep APW afloat. One loss didn’t keep me from taking this title from Braxton Locus’s hands. And one loss to Nyeo Son won’t derail us now. I’ll see you in Austin, Allen, because our era has just begun.
He ends the call yet remains focused on the cityscape, holding that patented Jubei smirk.
