Now that's entertainment

Location: Trey's Penthouse

In the beginning, there was TV. Everything that happened before that point? Irrelevant. Hell, everything that happened before March 23, 1976 is irrelevant. Why? Trey Vincent, the savior and icon of sports entertainment was born. And now? jOlt is the new federation he will take on his back and lead into a new era. A new era not based on that old style of sports entertainment (that dreaded 'w' word which is lower on the evolutionary scale), but a new entertaining product built around the future headliner and main event player. Trey Vincent....

And of course, there's that whole money thing. Money and TV exposure = power. Once Trey unleashes his great sports entertainment arsenal in the ring instead of just on the microphone, you will add in a new element: TALENT. Sure, Trey may be great, and if you don't believe him, just ask him, but he will back it up. After all, he possesses the most outrageous move in the business, the most overdone fist drop in history.

The Big Time Fist Drop.

It's all about style, not technicality. If people wanted to watch sports entertainment for technical masterpieces, well, people like Lance Knight would be main eventing. Luckily for all...he's not. Hell, who is main eventing in jOlt? Doesn't matter. Nobody but Trey matters. Live for Trey and you'll be OK....

But some, well, one, has strayed. Her name? Taylor Thompson. Taylor is an ex-model. Trey and Taylor became an item back in September. It developed quickly and intensely. Perhaps too intense. Trey knows it was too intense for Taylor. At times, she just couldn't understand the greatness of being Trey. Women everywhere wanting you. She was needy and paranoid once they became serious.

*************************

[Day.]

The bright sun filtered through the white blinds in Trey Vincent's new penthouse apartment, waking him. Trey rolled over and perked his head up to look at the red digital clock on the steel folding chair beside the bed. It read 11:13.

'Yeah right.'

Trey's head slammed back down on his pillow and he closed his eyes. Though most people were up and about by this time of day, most people hadn't been emptying out vodka bottles like they were bottled water. Not to mention....

'Trey, my head hurts,' a woman told him. She sat up. The beautiful blonde has often been described as Pamela Paulshock with a brain. In other words, the girl beside Trey was yet another nickel and dime hot blonde anybody with marginal deceptive skills could bag. Luckily for Trey, he's been bagging her since November. She was the last thing he took from his last federation, which is now out of business. Her name is April Donnelly.

April gets out of bed and stretches. She's wearing a tiny purple top, revealing her beautiful tanned and flat stomach, and a pair of purple panties.

'I think I had too much to drink. God, what time did we go to sleep?'

Trey growls and violently pulls the green blanket over his head.

April runs a hand through her long, straight hair. And again. She yawns and walks around the bed to where Trey lays. She kneels down beside him and begins massaging his side seductively.

'Trey....' she says with a hint of want.

'Don't make me come out from under this blanket.'

'What?'

'You heard me. Either lay down beside me or get out of here.'

'Trey,' she says with a whine.

The blanket is off. Trey's eyes are full of bad intentions. April quickly gets to her feet and gets some distance. Trey, dressed only in black sweatpants, slides out and puts his bare feet on the wood floor. He motions for her to come to him with his right index finger.

'Taylor NEVER consistently annoyed me. Why do you? I mean, all you're good for is about an hour each day. Besides that, you're really worthless to me, you know that? You may look hot as hell in purple, but do you know how many women look hot in purple?'

April's eyes go to the floor. Her head quivers and she turns away from him. She puts a shaky hand to her mouth and nervously bites on her thumb.

'You and I,' he says standing up, 'really aren't working anymore. I should say, you're not working for me. What, did you think we stayed together for the great conversation? Huh? Do you really think I was listening to you when you blabbered on and on after we fucked? Huh?'

'Stop!' April shouts as she stares a hole through Trey. She puts her right hand over her glassy eyes and collapses against the wall, sliding to the floor. At first, she fights back the tears, but soon the storm breaks and she is all out crying. Like a baby.

Trey looks down at her. He sniffs and wipes away sarcastic tears. He chuckles.

'A chick in bra and panties crying like a baby. Now that's entertainment.'

NEXT CHAPTER: And it begins... >>

©2001 John Leary