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Age:
26
Height:
5ft 11in
Weight:
196 lbs.
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(IN)CONVENIENCE

"What a big fleshy, sack of chemicals!" Marty "Loud Mouth" Ginsberg proclaims, standing in a full suit and cheesy grin on his face. "Karma is a bitch, that is for sure, Kolwalski. And that was what you were this week... one big, BITCH! Oh, yeah... I said it. You could not be any less creative than you were last week, when you decided to 'decapitate'...  yes, I believe that was the word you chose to use, my client, Aidan 'Crimson' Weisman. I get it, I really do. Weisman comes in cracks your skull and you weep like a little child.

And then, you decided, hey, let's give him a taste of his own medicine. But, the only thing you proved that night, was how uncreative you truly are. It couldn't have been a bat, a kendo stick, or a freaking trash can, but, a chair! Just had to be a chair, huh? Alright, great, your choice, buckaroo! I just figured that you are so 'strong' why would you ever even need a weapon? Yeah, I picture you as one of those guys that kisses his arms in the mirror, before you lube yourself up and walk sideways threw doors because, you know, your muscles are just so big!"

Ginsberg smiles to himself, making pauses, in-between, his grin seemingly growing wider and wider, almost like the Grinch, who stole Christmas. "And then you have to be joined by that bleach blonde, string bean, stoned out moron, and Rob Riot. Now, Riot is a man to be acknowledged, he is a man to be recognized. But, Blane will always be the wannabe, important sidekick, and you will always be the dumb muscle and don't try and be more than that, because there is no one that will buy that. Not now, and not a few months from now, when they inevitably turn on you."

The smile somehow grows even more and then he nods, rubbing his hands together. "That is right, Kolwalski, they will chew you up and spit you out, like you are last nights dinner leftovers. You are nothing to them and you will forever be nothing to them, nor here, for that matter. Sure, you got yourself a nice, shiny, little title right now, and my client is scheduled to face you again for that title. But, the big boys do not hold that title, and find themselves content with it."

A pause comes, the smile stays. "You are far too content, comfortable. People do not come into the wrestling industry begin happy with the smallest singles title in the company. They push themselves by trying for bigger, for better. See, if you join Riot and is waste of space buddy, you will only be hindering yourself. Why, because Riot is the current holder of the biggest title that this company has to offer and you are only cheating yourself. Take it from me, you can do better. And that is coming from a guy who finds you just as useful as Blane."

Another pause, as Ginsberg moves back a bit, so we can see the entire area that he is in, he is the only one present, with no Weisman, like we have seen the last few times. All we have is a shooting Ginsberg, who resembles that of a used cars salesman, but he is in a gym looking room. Punching bags, treadmills, stationary bikes, jump ropes, weights, etc. "In all of that situation, the smartest is, Riot. Aligning himself with two guys that pose no threat to his title. And even if they had won it, their reign would be forgettable."

The camera follows him, while we still see no sight of Weisman. "Yes, ladies and gentlemen, as much as I hate to tell you, the only two men in this entire company, that are worthy of that title, are Riot and Weisman. Riot and Weisman. Yes, that has a nice ring to it, don't you think? Rather they are destroying each other in the ring or teaming up, to create one hell of alliance, you know that could be a winner. Think about, it Mr. Jackson. You could have one of the biggest situations on your hands!"

It is obvious that Ginsberg really wants to drive this idea home. But, would anyone buy into it? And why was Weisman nowhere to be seen? Why was Ginsberg hiding this fact? Was there some grand scheme, a surprise that was in store for all the fans of PWA? Ginsberg had grown silent for a moment, as he moved forward, and pressed the camera down, convincing the camera man to turn it off. He says he does but, it keeps rolling. "Listen-" Ginsberg begins, with a sigh. "I have not seen Weisman in like three or four days."

He says, another sigh. "I called him and told him to meet me here but, as you can see, he never showed up. Do you know if any of your guys have heard from him?" He questions, forgetting his microphone is on, though the camera man speaks, it's harder to hear him. "Wha-what do you mean, you don't know? I mean, surely someone has heard from him. People just don't disappear. I am trying the best that I can but, obviously, if he doesn't show up, it looks bad on me. Hell, it looks bad on you guys. You get Weisman here!"

Ginsberg says, raising his voice a bit. The camera man must be young and/or new. He steps back a bit, as Ginsberg turns and swings his arm, as he sighs. The camera man seems to say something again, as Ginsberg turns back suddenly. "No, no! I didn't fucking do anything." He says, as he moves close to the camera man, gesturing. "You listen here, kid. I want you to find out where he is and then, you get back with me and he needs to decide, if he still wants my help, or I can just back off right now!"

One Week Ago...

Weisman looks stern, as he stands up and moves toward Ginsberg, who he towers over. "You mean, you knew about this money out here, buried in the desert?!" Weisman questioned, as he looked to Ginsberg, who raised his hands, as if to surrender. Weisman brushed past him, pacing. "Hey, listen, kid. I knew about your father, yes. But, I had no idea, he had all this. he said some cash. I figured a few hundred. Not a fell thousand." Ginsberg said, a nervous chuckle under his breath, as Weisman approached. "Try, millions!" He yells, as he moves back to the barrels, more and Ginsberg seemingly shudders.

"Heh-heh... millions?" Ginsberg questions, his voice shallow. Weisman approaches again. "yes, MILLIONS!" Weisman yells as Ginsberg approaches, hesitantly. "How much are we talking, exactly?" He wonders, as Weisman let's out a yell of anger. He then sits down on the sandy, desert, landscape and closes his eyes, trying to think it threw. Ginsberg begins to approach slowly. "How long have you known about this? How long have you known my father?" Weisman questions, though uncertain as to if he really wanted to know the answer. "Days... weeks... months..."

Weisman looked up to him, stern. "Ginsberg..." He said, as Ginsberg sat down beside Weisman, making himself comfortable. He sighed to himself. "I have known your father for about eh... let's see..." Ginsberg said, stalling. "Just tell me, Marty." Weisman said, as Ginsberg looked to him, cocking an eyebrow. He could tell that Weisman was not messing around then. "Five years." Ginsberg said, finally, as Weisman looked to him, he wasn't at all happy. "My father was diagnosed with cancer five years ago, a little more than that. Which means, he met you soon after. What is all this Marty?"

Weisman wondered, as he stood up and looked down to Ginsberg. Ginsberg looked up to him, the sun just behind him, Weisman looked like a giant. Weisman was tired of this, he leaned down and grabbed Ginsberg by the collar. "Tell me what this is all about, Marty? Or I swear, I will break you into, right over my knee!" He yelled, as Ginsberg nervously chuckled. "Hey, who says you need a mouth piece in PWA, that is pretty good, kid!" He exclaims, as Weisman lets out a primal like yell and tosses him into the now ditch, containing the money.

Ginsberg squirms awkwardly on top of the barrels as Weisman disappears for a moment. Ginsberg calls from down in the pit, for Weisman There is silence and Ginsberg assumes he has left, despite there being no sound of a moving car. He calls once more, as Weisman appears and nonchalantly begins to toss dirt on Ginsberg, shovel in hand. "Hey!" He yells, as the dirt continues to be tossed. "Hey!!" He yells again, as Weisman tosses the shovel to him and moves to his car, starting the engine again. Ginsberg gets out of the pit and runs to Weisman.

Weisman roars off, as Ginsberg tries to track him down, by foot. "Oh, come on!" Ginsberg yells, looking defeated. Inside the car, Weisman roars back into the city and as his phone gains reception again, messages begin to flood his cell phone, text and otherwise. Upon arriving home, he runs up to the house and pushes open the door. His mother greets him in worry, as Weisman brushes past her and goes into his room. He begins to pack a bag and tells his brother to do the same. He wonders what is going on, the mother does the same.

After a bit heckling from his mother, Weisman pops up and looks to her, stern. "Did you know?" He wonders, as she shakes her head, tears in her eyes. "Did I know what?" She wonders, as Weisman looks to her, as if looking for an answer, his brother comes into the room. "Aidan?" He wonders, his voice is small. "Yes?" He wonders. "What should I pack?" He wonders, as Weisman looks to him. "Pack five of your favorite everything, okay?" Weisman says questions. "Okay." He says, and goes back to his room. "Did you know anything?" He questions again, as his mother looks to him clueless.

Hours before the event...

Weisman, in a suit and tie, a duffel bag in hand, walks through the parking lot and eventually bursts threw double doors and then another set, until he is in the main building, he rounds the halls, as PWA staff look to him, thankful for his arrival because, of the uncertainty and lack of communication over the last few days. He had been around more in the past before an event and now he was just showing up, and he ignored everyone. Usually much more friendly and personable, despite his in-ring demeanor.

He quickly passes a nervous and pacing, Ginsberg, who was talking to a PWA worker. Ginsberg pushes past him and runs over to Weisman, he begins to speak but, is ignored by Weisman, who goes into his locker room, slamming the door behind him and in front of Ginsberg. Though, the nerve of Ginsberg could never be dulled, he pushed open the door and approached the stripping Weisman. He continued to yammer and thank Weisman for showing up. Soon, Weisman grew sick of this and intensly grabbed Ginsberg by the throat and pushed him to the wall. Ginsberg winced.

"The fact that you are still alive, Ginsberg, is purely out of convenience. If it wasn't illegal to kill people, I would have done it already. Besides, you have a story to tell and I have not even heard the beginning of it. So, here is what is going to happen, we will continue this facade. And through it all, you will tell me everything I don't know, that happened in the last five years. And I don't care how many, seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks it takes, you will tell me! Now, let's go beat Kolwalski's ass, you son of a bitch!"