TV Just Got Entertaining

Menace 1
Nov. 10, 2003
Starring: Trey Vincent

The back door opened to silence. Outside, a man stood in the shadows. A creepy supervillain? A depressed freak? A murderous psycho?

Then she emerged. In a tight white top and short, short pink skirt.

Who the hell is that?

Then another lady walked through. A black backless top and leather pants.

The Godfather better not be behind all these, uh, women. About six more came through, all sexy as hell, before a man walked in behind them. Staring at the last girl's ass all the way.

A former member of such federations as jOlt, PIW and Action. A superstar in waiting. The self-proclaimed Sports Entertainment Icon and Franchise Player.

Trey Vincent.

'Ladies, look for the door with the biggest. Um. Star. Heh. Just think back to when you were looking for a man with something really big. You found me. I have one of the biggest in the business. And I ain't talking about my ego.'

As the ho-train headed straight ahead, Trey stopped dead in front of a security guard who asked.

'And what do you think you're looking at? Who do I look like to you?'

The man started to speak but.

'Shut up. You talk too much. Listen. I need you to carry my bags to my room. And I'm not talking about the girls, get it? Huh? OK then. Go check out my wheels, buddy.'

'Mr. Vincent?' a man asked from behind Trey, who spun around to find a shorter fellow with his hand extended. 'I'm-'

'Do I look like I care who you are? Ask me how much I care. Actually, don't, because the answer is not enough to brake if you were on the street in front of me and I was doing 60. Come with me, jerkass.'

That's whey Trey grabbed the man by the shirt and pulled him towards the entrance, which was now an exit. Outside, Trey led him, despite some undistinguishable protests.

'Look at this. It's a brand fucking new 2004 Nissan Pathfinder, the SUV of Champions, and Trey Vincent. Open the back,' Trey said as he unlocked it via remote.

'God damn. I am in New York,' Trey yelled, pausing for the usual pop. 'The only place worse than New Jersey on the planet,' Trey bellowed out, just as equally as before, now getting cheap heat. 'What, you wanted with? Grab that, give me that, give me that, get your hands off my stuff.'

The two headed back toward the entrance with Trey telling the man to shut up every time he opened his mouth. Back inside, Trey commanded the man to stop. Trey spied a couple of developmental wrestlers, or what he called sports entertainers, who were now chatting at the hallway heading towards his room.

'The hell is this?' Trey asked. The man beside him started to answer, but, 'shut up. Hey you two. Scrubs. Yeah, you jobbers. Trey tossed one of them a bag. 'If these don't pin you, bring them down the hall to my room.' He gave the other man a bag as well. 'I'm the biggest star here. You don't do it, you'll be blackballed from WWC. And from a foot straight between your legs. MOVE IT.'

Reluctantly, the two nondescript fellows who were no doubt desperate to get into the World Wrestling Corporation, did his bidding.

'Listen up, whoever you are, the World Sports Entertainment Corporation belongs to me. You're just lucky I'm letting you share a moment in the spotlight. Because, believe me, tomorrow when you wake up in that tiny apartment, at least you'll have the memory of being near the greatest sports entertainer this world has ever seen.

'I don't need you to love me, I only need you to watch me,' Trey said, suddenly spinning around to face the camera. 'That's right, Trey Vincent is the name. Learn it, you're gonna be screaming it later. And ladies, it's true. I'm naked underneath my clothes.'

Vincent spun around and they continued down the hallway. 'Did I give you permission to speak? You're lucky I'm letting you touch anything of mine. Move it you skinny assed microphone stand. Oh, wait, stop, a vending machine. Get me a soda, scrub.'

The man put down Vincent's duffel bag on the floor.

'Whoa whoa, what the hell is this? Huh? You DARE put the Sports Entertainment Icon's luggage on the floor of Madison Square Garden. You know how dirty this town is. Pick it up or I'll jam you up that little hole where the soda comes out. Move. Move. Do it.'

'I don't have any change,' the man just managed to squeak out before being cut off.

'Well that's, just,' Trey began, before grabbing the man by the skull and ramming it into the vending machine.

A soda rolled out.

Vincent smiled and tossed the man aside, picking up his can of Coca-Cola and turning to the camera. 'Drink Coke. Snort it. Whatever you want. Just pay me money for sharing the spotlight with your silly drink. Until they have beer vending machines, I'll deal with this.. How's THAT for advertising, huh? Trey Vincent drinking your soda.' Trey chuckled and then headed into his room, slamming the door in the man's face as he tried to follow.

Wonder what he had to say. Oh well. We'll never know.

NEXT CHAPTER: This is SPORTS ENTERTAINMENT...not Wrestling >>

©2003 John Leary