The Queen of Schemes (Fresh Faces vs The O.G.'s Multi Person

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Benson Estate
Sometime during the week of New Year’s
Atlantic City, New Jersey

Sonya strode alongside Giovanni as she continued to show off her extensive art collection. Although he is a professional wrestler and thus detestable, Sonya had found a common thread between them. She hated professional wrestling. Giovanni also hated professional wrestling. She wanted to watch professional wrestling burn. He wanted to save it through art. Benson could work with that. Who knows? If the plan she’s orchestrating for the multi-person match succeeds, she might be able to hoo-doo him into becoming her tag team partner. If he had enough experience in beating people up she’d even pitch the idea of him being her trainer. Too bad, so sad on that last part though.

”Well…”

Giovanni let his word hang without follow up and then with a thumb of the nose, he shrugged and nodded.

”It’s a decent collection. Some of it’s a bit garish for my taste, but I’ve seen worse.”

Sonya cursed him in her heart, but hid it behind the smile of a saint.

”Thank you, Mr. Giovanni. I’ve got a long way to go in collecting better pieces and broadening my horizons in this exquisite field. I will definitely need your council in the future. Perhaps I could commission you for some art someday also?”

That got his attention. He perked up, tossing her a smile.

”I don’t come cheap, so count your blessings about being so rich because you’ll need it for me to put brush to canvas.”

Giovanni’s muse, Calliope, rubbed on him excitedly at hearing the offer and her idol’s response. She’d had her trepidations about this meeting with the most reviled woman in professional wrestling, but so far so damn good! She couldn’t believe it.

”Money is no issue. Your talent is worth every cent. But, before all of that can happen, we do need to address the more pressing matter. Shall we?”

Sonya gestured toward the main foyer of the art wing and joined them at a masterfully crafted table. Her manager, Norris, was already seated with his nose in a newspaper. Her bodyguard, Smith, stood by silently, but spoke volumes with his presence and piercing gaze. After all parties were seated and Sonya treated them to all the finest wines and cheeses, they broached the topic weighing on them. Well, mainly on Sonya. She was the one who reached out to him for this meeting.

”So, here’s the deal. Last time I was on Project: Honor's goat rodeo I managed to work out a deal with my opponent, but our upcoming match has too many different variables for me to go about buying people off. Look at our opponents, Mr. Giovanni. Diana forgets to finish her promos. She carries around a bunny whom she can’t even take care of. The girl can’t even walk and chew bubble gum at the same time. Did you see her in that one match where she couldn’t find her way back into the ring? Lost by count out. I can’t count on her to take a dive for me.”

Giovanni delicately sipped his wine, pinky up, and nodded favorably as Sonya continued on.

”And John Blade? Ha! I can’t make heads or tails about him. He talks in circles. He’s 3-10 but one of those wins was made possible by Tara and another of those wins was against Guy, whom I beat in less than five seconds. It took everything Mr. Blade had, including the kitchen sink, to beat Guy.”

Benson belts a snobbish giggle and also sips delicately on her beverage.

”There’s no way I can trust him to take a dive. He probably wouldn’t even know what I’m talking about if I pitched him the same deal I did to Guy.”

Giovanni eased his wine glass onto the table with utmost grace and then thumbed his princely chin in thought.

”True. Hmm. I think the most applicable individual to be on-the-take is Officer Grayfield. He’s already a corrupt cop. Surely he would take your money and buy a new trailer and move out of the park his trailer trash self resides in. I know it must be taxing for him to constantly adjust the cinder blocks on his home. Throw that offer to him and toss in a lifetime supply of jelly donuts and he’d lay down for our team quicker than Malachite Minj gets his shoulders stapled to the mat.”

Sonya was caught off guard by the insult at their foe and let slip a genuine giggle.

”Ohhh. Good burn. Mr. Minj is going to need some ice to put on that one. That confused cat-person-thing is, like, 0-6 isn’t he/she/it? I entertained offering that stupid cat-boy lifetime supplies of cat-nip and furry convention tickets in exchange for taking a dive for me, but honestly I might call PETA and alert them to the animal abuse wrestlers are putting him through. He belongs in a rescue shelter. He needs to go to a good home. One full of love and tenderness. It’s horrible watching such a pretty kitty getting mauled every show, which is yet another reason I utterly despise this godforsaken sport.”

Giovanni cocked a brow with keen interest.

”That’s actually a very good way to eliminate one of our opponents. Malachite does, technically, self-identify as a feline; a cat… so, since those trans-options are openly accepted these days, I don’t see why you couldn’t use your money or influence to pressure PETA into stepping in and doing something about Malachite before our match.”

Sonya’s captivating sea-blue orbs lit up with hope. Snapping her head toward Norris, she chirped at him.

”Write that down! Write that down right meow! I don’t want to forget that. I’m honestly going to try it.”

Norris dutifully fished a handheld notepad from his attire and jotted down the info. Benson smiled big and wide as she met Giovanni’s eyes.

”My oh my, Mr. Giovanni. You are as brilliant a schemer as you are an artist. But I digress, back to Officer Grayfield. I know he’s on the take and could possibly be swayed, but he’s also the type of corrupt cop that would demand the money upfront before the match then do his own thing regardless. I can’t risk that. Sooooo, I’m having to take a plan B into effect here, just in case.”

Giovanni was intrigued and motioned for her to continue as his muse fed him a small piece of cheese.

”Well, that's why I asked you here. I need twenty-one more wins to get out of this prison sentence in professional wrestling. That’s my primary objective obviously. However, my health and welfare comes above that. Since this match is a crapshoot where most of the participants have lost in these types of mindless melees, I need to insure my safety. I’m willing to offer you a very generous amount of money to make sure none of our teammates tag me in.”

Giovanni and his muse eyed one another, surprised at first, then suspicious.

”I take it you’ve already made such an offer to our other teammates or will be doing so after our meeting?”

Sonya shook her head no.

”Unfortunately no. Betsy is too brainwashed into the honor code of professional wrestling. It’s a ridiculous code to have in such a cesspool of a so-called sport, but she has it because her stupid funny tongued family drilled it into her gigantic head. She’s the type of pig headed hero who’d demand I carry my fair share in the match even if it cost us the win. She’d probably give me some spiel about how losses aren’t losses, they're lessons, or some white bread horse-dookie like that. Have you seen her vignettes, Giovanni? It’s the same thing each time. Same location. Same words. She’s a bot. If I toss her something outside the code she’s been programmed with, it wouldn’t compute. If I told her to not tag me into the match, she’d look at me like I have a third eye, no matter how much money I waved in her face.”

It was a good point, Giovanni had to admit that.

”Fair. There’s always Stella Jade, right?”

Sonya snapped her head to Norris.

”Did you ever dig anything up on her?”

The portly manager chuckled and eased more into his chair, hands comfortably behind his head.

”She fell out of the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down. She got up from the ground and found herself like minded uglies in some bullshit-ass cult of witches or something like that. Now she gets high in the forest with her witch friends, eating candle wax and drinking witch juice. She probably spends hours talking to leaves and tree bark, thinking they’re ancient spirits. The bitch probably paper-cuts herself with her tarot cards just for shits and giggles. She’s a real weirdo. Definitely not the type of gal we need to work a deal with, because by match time she’s likely going to be too high or excitable to remember to not tag you in.”

Benson nods and turns her attention back to Giovanni.

”See? You’re our only hope. You’re the only one on our team who has shown intelligence and reasonability. Dare I say you’re the best combatant out of all of us? I mean, you did create an artful masterpiece against the Spice King. I also loved how you bravely stood up to the powers-that-be and bailed on your partner, Malachite, in that ludacris pig-pen match. I would have done the same thing. How dare they besmirch a man of your taste and beauty by subjecting you to that potential! Reprehensible!”

Giovanni visibly shuddered upon reliving how close he came to being slam dunked into that pen of pig doo-doo.

”I’ll never forgive the bookers for saddling me with that repugnant ankle weight. He smelled like a litter box that hadn’t been cleaned out in eons. I was forced to fight my own vomit trying to come up as well as my opponents. It was virtually a handicap match. I don’t know what they were thinking when they put us as a team; it’s like they put a bunch of names in a hat and drew them at random. My only regret isn’t bailing on him sooner, it’s that I wasn’t the one who slammed him into the pig pooh. That miserable little toe-rag. Ugh!”

In the back of his mind there was also the thought that Malachite might try to take him out in the match, given how he betrayed him recently. Hopefully Sonya’s PETA tactic will work. And luckily his muse was there to comfort him out of the PTSD episode.

”Agreed. It’s egregious that you had to go through a nightmarish thing like that. Tell you what, I’ll sweeten the pot. I’ll give you a handsome amount of money to ensure I don’t get tagged in, and in addition if our team wins I’ll forfeit my shot at that stupid fake gold on cheap leather to you. That way you’ll have not one but TWO cracks at the title in the future, at your majestic whim. “

Now THAT got his eyes wide and excited. Not one but two chances to save wrestling through artistry on a championship level? Who could possibly refuse a deal like that?

”I’m open to this deal. I just need to know how you plan on me implementing this? I know not to tag you in if I’m in the ring and somehow find myself in *scoffs* trouble, but how do I prevent the other two from tagging you in. I can’t control them.”

The most stunning woman in the world wagged her finger all-knowingly.

”Easy. If they try to tag me, you steal the tag. Throw your hand over mine. Body shield me. Do what you have to do. I don’t care if you’re fresh as a daisy or beaten to a pulp. You will take the tag in my stead. That’s just a sacrifice you’ll potentially have to make. But honestly? Between you and Betsy-Bot alone, I think we’ve got this. Our opponents have a combined record of 7-23 after all. So, do we have a deal?”

Giovanni and his muse excused themselves from the table to discuss the matter in private. Sonya respected their distance and observed the increasing excitement in the pair's whispers. It didn’t take long before they resumed their seats at the table. With grins, they nodded.

”Ms. Benson, you most certainly have a deal. Now, how about we discuss the money? I will need a portion of it upfront as a deposit.”

Sonya’s eyes flared with relief and joy, and a Cheshire cat grin swam across her captivating facial features.

”Oh, Mr. Giovanni, money is no issue. Let us talk over dessert.”

And that, my friends, is where we’ll end this vignette.

END RP I OOC: I had Giovanni’s permission to include him in this promo.