Martin Karloff- Laundry Day

“Interested?” Mr. Daemon asks, we seem to have come in in the middle of a meeting.

“I mean, I’m not NOT interested.” Allen responds. ‘The Comedian’ Allen Chaney was one of the newest signees to SAP who had come out of retirement. 4-time World Champion. The Furious Funny Fat Fuck.

“Give it some thought. Sleep on it. I’m not asking for a new ‘worshipper’. I’m looking for a new and capable client.” Mr. Daemon says. He hands Allen his business card. Allen stuffs it in the pocket of his Dickies slacks.

“I gotta go. Got a date tonight. I’ll be in touch. Or I won’t. Gotta consult with some folks.” Allen says. He stands and Daniel offers his hand at the same time as Allen puts his hand out for a fist bump. They both try to adjust. It is….pretty astoundingly Caucasian. They both give up and Allen leaves. Mr. Daemon nods his acknowledgement to the cameraman. He stands and heads over to a shelf of spirits and glasses.

“Anton, this is going to end poorly for you.” Daniel Daemon says. He pours himself a glass of wine, humming a jaunty little tune to himself before taking the glass in his hand and sniffing the contents. He takes a sip and releases a content sigh.

“Forgive me for not introducing myself. My name is Daniel Daemon. I am the Chief Executive Officer of Crimson Incorporated and in my free time I manage and represent Wrestlers who I take a personal interest in due to my history in the Industry. Anton I know perhaps you were wishing to speak to my client Martin Karloff but unfortunately he is indisposed. One can assume he has found something more important to do with his time such as spending it with his lovely wife and children, training, or possibly reading a good book. I don’t believe he is eating paste or putting cats in small costumes but either of those would also likely be a better use of my client’s time.” Daniel Daemon says. There is an air of authority to the voice of ‘The Most Evil Man Who Ever Lived’. He is seated at his desk at Crimson Incorporated and even when he is seated there is an intimidating hugeness to him. A handsome gorilla in a business suit.

“As much as I empathize with the sentiment ‘I promise not to be terrible anymore’ that Anton Chase has provided I fail to see any evidence that would suggest such a monumental shift. Is there anyone really calling this a dream match, Anton? Do people often dream of seeing you violently massacred? I mean, I’m certainly starting to see the appeal of it.” Daniel says, taking another sip of wine.

“Do you know what I abhor? I violently abhor the attitude of ‘New Year, New Me’ as if the Earth moving in it’s orbit around the sun has somehow given you magical validation for your failures as an individual. An 8 replaced a 7, Anton. You can assign as much meaning to that as you want and my client will still beat you because my client is better than you. Likely at everything. Maybe he’s not as much of an ‘honest asshole’ as you are but that’s where I come in to smirk and sip my wine and ask you if the company made you pay for your own t-shirt you awkwardly hairstyled buffoon.” Daniel says. He takes out his phone and texts Martin.

“I love building up a broken man but honestly Anton? It is not worth my time to salvage you in the way I salvaged Martin. Martin is my greatest experiment. He has all of my ruthlessness, intellect, and violent tendencies in a body that hasn’t grown old and useless like mine has. My primary concern is the future of this industry and my legacy Anton and I wouldn’t attach my name to yours even if you begged me. Though if you do wish to beg please go ahead, I would very much enjoy seeing it.” Daniel says. His phone buzzes and he looks at the screen.

“I asked Martin if he had anything to say to you and he simply responded with the word ‘Laundry’. In the battle of ‘Clean socks vs. Talking about Anton Chase’ it seems like socks have won in a landslide.” Daniel says, sighing as he puts away his phone.

“And that just leaves me here. I’m done ridiculing Anton Chase. It bores me. His optimism in the face of his inevitable defeat was amusing for a moment but now I have grown weary of this discussion. So let’s move on to the lesson, then. I typically leave it to Martin to dictate the meanings of his sermons but unless he was just trying to tell me via text that his Sermon has a profound link to Fabric Softener then it seems I am on my own to offer up an interpretation.” Daniel says. He finishes his wine and sets the glass down, one of The Nothing shuffles in and takes the glass.

“Martin was not doing well for some time. After an unremarkable reign as New Gen Champion he felt beaten. I can tell you what he did not do. He did not stand idly by and look at his failure and silently hope that it would just ‘get better’. With my help he MADE himself better. He took a metaphorical scalpel to himself and cut out all of the bad parts. All of what made him weak and then? We made him strong. That’s called being proactive, Anton. That is called taking your destiny into your own hands. He still has his little quirks….I don’t really understand the body paint but it seems to be important to him. He has split himself into two seemingly disparate halves….The Phantom and The Manticore. Everyone thinks they know what that means but Anton shall serve as an example… because Mr. Chase… each half of my client is twice the wrestler you will ever be. THAT is the Sermon. Please try and keep up when it plays out in the ring. Wouldn’t want you to miss the lesson.” Daniel says. He smiles. It’s not a reassuring smile.

“Amen.”