Post by sasso on Jan 24, 2017 13:11:33 GMT -5
Having learned not to question things by now—and also feeling that this was one of the tamest situations her subject had dragged her into—Amanda Johnson looked less unsettled than usual as she stood in an old Hollywood studio lot alongside Gabi Beltran. Having her wits about her, she was able to stay focused on maintaining some semblance of professionalism as the raven-haired Beltran paced back and forth, “I’m standing by with Ga—“
“Not trying to be a dick, but I think they know who I am by now,” Beltran interrupted, stopping in place, but not looking up to make eye contact, “Can we just do the asking questions thing.”
“Fair enough,” Johnson clears her throat, “So Gabi, you seemed fairly disconsolate when we last heard from you. What’s your state of mind like now following your time limit draw like Mercy Williams?”
“Better,” She flatly responded, “Finally got to test myself, have a long fight—lots of action. That’s part of what I’ve been wanting. I’ve got a tougher fight now, that’s good; being stuck fighting Susan Kent again would’ve kinda sucked. ”
The interviewer nodded, “That said, you might not have won, but still came up short. Is there anything you can take away from that match that you need to change going forward?”
“I need to pin or tap out my opponent.”
Silence hangs in the air for a moment following that deadpan response, “Touché, I suppose; now, your next opponent is Dooder3G. You and he went back and forth a bit on social media a bit, leading up to the Red Carpet Rumble.
“Yep,” Sensing that she should perhaps elaborate, Gabi continues, “Are you going to ask a question; that wasn’t a question.”
Observing Beltran shift uncomfortably in place, Amanda tries to spell things out a little more clearly for her, “Well, given that you too appear to have had some animosity when interacting, how does that affect your mindset? He didn’t seem to have much respect for you.”
“Yeah, so what,” Gabi starts pacing in place again, “He talked some shit, he talks shit to a lot of people. I can appreciate that about him, if I’m being honest. Too much drama with some wrestlers, stabbing each other in the back and acting like this is a teen drama. We’re here to fight, not make friends; let’s start stabbing each other in the front.”
“So, are you saying that I misread the dynamic?”
“No, I don’t like him; that seems pretty hard to misread.” Beltran quirks a brow, not seeming to understand how Amanda got that from what she said, “I’m just glad he lays it out on the table is all, liking each other isn’t part of the job description. There’s plenty I can appreciate about him. He’s been successful enough to get in the Paramount Title picture, he’s good enough to get endorsements from big name wrestlers, he lets you know where he stands—that’s the type of fight I want.” A shake of her head, “What I don’t appreciate is that he’s a crackpot that rants about aliens, one of those types who’s got something wrong in the head. It’s dangerous times now: we’ve got fake news, White House press secretaries talking about ‘alternative truth’, with the spotlight he’s made for himself there’s a chance people might actually believe all that alien conspiracy theory talk.”
“I see,” Amanda replies, looking a bit surprised that Gabi is sort of making sense, at least by her standards.
“The fact is there’s no such thing as aliens, just like there’s no such thing as space travel.”
And there was the proverbial record scratch moment, “Come again?”
“No such thing as space travel, so there can’t be aliens, NASA is a government scam to take taxpayer money. That’s why I brought you here; this is the studio where they faked the moon landing.” Motioning to Amanda to follow as she begins to walk towards the nearest building, she pulls a photo out of her pocket and holds it up while pointing to the nearby wall. “See the texture there, see the texture in this photo, you can’t dispute it. The moon landing is fake and so are aliens; I need to stand up for the truth.” Her eyes narrow, “And if I have to kill Dooder—if that’s his real name’s—brain cells out there until he forgets his crazy talk, that’s just what I’ll do.” A low intensity is present in her voice now, “There isn’t a lot to believe in right now, except for good old fashioned violence, like in John Wick 2. So what I need to do is take my fists, take my feet, use them as weapons of truth and make sure I can believe in them as well." A beat, "Or die trying.”
Fin.
“Not trying to be a dick, but I think they know who I am by now,” Beltran interrupted, stopping in place, but not looking up to make eye contact, “Can we just do the asking questions thing.”
“Fair enough,” Johnson clears her throat, “So Gabi, you seemed fairly disconsolate when we last heard from you. What’s your state of mind like now following your time limit draw like Mercy Williams?”
“Better,” She flatly responded, “Finally got to test myself, have a long fight—lots of action. That’s part of what I’ve been wanting. I’ve got a tougher fight now, that’s good; being stuck fighting Susan Kent again would’ve kinda sucked. ”
The interviewer nodded, “That said, you might not have won, but still came up short. Is there anything you can take away from that match that you need to change going forward?”
“I need to pin or tap out my opponent.”
Silence hangs in the air for a moment following that deadpan response, “Touché, I suppose; now, your next opponent is Dooder3G. You and he went back and forth a bit on social media a bit, leading up to the Red Carpet Rumble.
“Yep,” Sensing that she should perhaps elaborate, Gabi continues, “Are you going to ask a question; that wasn’t a question.”
Observing Beltran shift uncomfortably in place, Amanda tries to spell things out a little more clearly for her, “Well, given that you too appear to have had some animosity when interacting, how does that affect your mindset? He didn’t seem to have much respect for you.”
“Yeah, so what,” Gabi starts pacing in place again, “He talked some shit, he talks shit to a lot of people. I can appreciate that about him, if I’m being honest. Too much drama with some wrestlers, stabbing each other in the back and acting like this is a teen drama. We’re here to fight, not make friends; let’s start stabbing each other in the front.”
“So, are you saying that I misread the dynamic?”
“No, I don’t like him; that seems pretty hard to misread.” Beltran quirks a brow, not seeming to understand how Amanda got that from what she said, “I’m just glad he lays it out on the table is all, liking each other isn’t part of the job description. There’s plenty I can appreciate about him. He’s been successful enough to get in the Paramount Title picture, he’s good enough to get endorsements from big name wrestlers, he lets you know where he stands—that’s the type of fight I want.” A shake of her head, “What I don’t appreciate is that he’s a crackpot that rants about aliens, one of those types who’s got something wrong in the head. It’s dangerous times now: we’ve got fake news, White House press secretaries talking about ‘alternative truth’, with the spotlight he’s made for himself there’s a chance people might actually believe all that alien conspiracy theory talk.”
“I see,” Amanda replies, looking a bit surprised that Gabi is sort of making sense, at least by her standards.
“The fact is there’s no such thing as aliens, just like there’s no such thing as space travel.”
And there was the proverbial record scratch moment, “Come again?”
“No such thing as space travel, so there can’t be aliens, NASA is a government scam to take taxpayer money. That’s why I brought you here; this is the studio where they faked the moon landing.” Motioning to Amanda to follow as she begins to walk towards the nearest building, she pulls a photo out of her pocket and holds it up while pointing to the nearby wall. “See the texture there, see the texture in this photo, you can’t dispute it. The moon landing is fake and so are aliens; I need to stand up for the truth.” Her eyes narrow, “And if I have to kill Dooder—if that’s his real name’s—brain cells out there until he forgets his crazy talk, that’s just what I’ll do.” A low intensity is present in her voice now, “There isn’t a lot to believe in right now, except for good old fashioned violence, like in John Wick 2. So what I need to do is take my fists, take my feet, use them as weapons of truth and make sure I can believe in them as well." A beat, "Or die trying.”
Fin.