Post by Trey Bouchet on Nov 10, 2020 8:44:32 GMT -5
One Sided Plexchanges
Trey's on his couch with a box of Raising Cane’s chicken fingers cold-calling his co-workers.
“Kyle! Hey-hey, it’s Trey Bouchet.”
“Yeah. That’s me.”
“I got it off of Teo’s phone.”
“I found it in his bag when I shit in it the way he shat all over my gimmick.”
“You can say it's bitter, I prefer to see it as a bit of ‘Plex Talionis’. Anyhoo, the reason I called: I’m looking to join a stable! It’s obvious I need to be more than the funny suplex guy if I’m going to have any kind of traction here in Action, so I’m offering you first dibs on my talents. I could be a real asset to the Following.”
“Well, there’s my suplexing. And my boo Fabunni! She’s a Godsend! Literally! That’s what her name means!”
“No girls allowed at the Compound, huh? Well, that’s a dealbreaker. Sorry. Best of luck ladling out the Kyle Kemp Kool Aid on Cruiser Clash. Bye!”
***********
“Corey! How are you, Champ? It’s Trey Bouchet!”
“I got your number from Corso De Classe. I don’t know how he got it. Anyhoo, the reason I called: factions are the in-thing in Action, and I want in. It’s a natural fit: Man Made Gods meets ‘Deus Plex Machina’! Put it on a tee-shirt and sell it at High Spots!”
“Yeah, I know you all do, but my suplexes are nicer. Plus, let’s be honest, Corey, you guys need to lighten up some. MMGs gotten all dark ever since Frank’s given up talking about pink robots and vaginas.”
“Oh, crap! No, I didn’t mean it that way! I know- it’s not- some of my best friends are- Sir? Sir? Sir? Yes, I’m sorry. For that and wasting your time. Yes, I will lose your number. Good day.”
************
“Mr. Mayor! Trey Bouchet. How are you?”
“I got it off of JC Keeton’s phone.”
“When I shat in his bag.”
“For pinning me two weeks ago in that Number One Contender’s match.”
“Yeah, I’m bitter, which means I’ll fit right in as the Lost Breed’s newest recruit!”
“Why not? I mean, if NATE can join, I- oh. Well, I could still be a valued member of the team. I’m even willing to plexplore the darker side of my persona.”
“The most evil? I’m no-selling my opponent for next week’s show; that’s pretty vile, right?”
“Ok, what would you suggest?”
“Oh. I see. Uh, what kind of puppy? Dalmatians are pretty nasty. All that in-breeding. I don’t know about eating one though.”
“About Alex Trebeck?! No, I don’t know any. No, I don’t want to ----
“That’s horrible! Alex Trebeck was a national treasure! Mr. Mayor, stop laughing! It’s not-- I’m hanging up now.”
**************
“Ash! Ashley? Ash. Ok. It’s Trey Bouchet. I got your number off the bulletin board in the training room. Thanks for not making it a cryptogram or something. Puzzles really aren’t my thing, you know? Unless it’s puzzling out how to suplex a body three times my size, in which case I’m frigging Jigsaw!”
“The Riddler? Why? Hm. I suppose on some level my monomaniacal obsession with all things suplex related does mirror his need to leave solvable clues to the various crimes he commits. Both could be construed as acts of self-handicapping born from a fear of failure despite genuine effort. That’s a pretty cogent analysis. Wish I had thought of it.”
“Anyhoo, the reason I called: I’m looking to freshen up my game some! Things are pretty dire in the Cajun Catapult’s camp right now, and I need to do something about it, even if that means wearing the brand of a rapacious multinational only interested in the bottom line. So I’d like to apply for sponsorship.”
“Really? I’ll text you my email! Thanks!”
************
The Philidor Holdings’s application is encrypted. Trey runs it through several online ciphers and gets bupkis. Fabunni wisely points out if the company wanted Trey they wouldn’t be making him jump through hoops. Embarrassed at being so easily ribbed, Bouchet deletes the app and plexhorts that if no Action stable will have him he will make his own!
Wanna join, Tsukiko?