(Sample Thread) Approaching Hunter pre-show.

(This is a sample thread which will be up as an idea of what we'd like to see in this section of the board. We spoke to Vince and he thinks that the only way to do this is lead by example. So...here goes.)


Arena Location: Pre-show RAW, East Rutherford, NJ

Randy was frantic. "You seen Hunter?" he'd asked of no less than 6 Production Assistants and 3 of the front office guys. He'd even grabbed Arn Anderson by the forearm.

"Arn. Where's Hunter? I need to speak with him. NOW." Arn directed Randy to the makeshift office where Hunter was. On this day, the day after Mania, everybody was exhausted. While it was nice being in one place, more or less, for the extended stay, the Mania high was wearing off...

And the post-partying after Mania has left Randy in a bit of a bind.

Finally, he entered, without knocking. "I need to talk to you. And you're probably gonna be pissed, but it's not my fault. I swear to God." Hands were up almost like a surrender.

Hunter was sitting at his desk, still trying to work with an already busted arm. Too bad for him that the work didn't exactly stop with that match last night, and he was trying to work through the soreness he had from the night before. Brock was brutal, and while he could hold his own, people probably knew why he only did this once or twice a year now.

Hearing Randy before he saw him, he sighed, and stood up from his desk. Winced a little, but it was only from the slight flexing that happened in his bicep. He didn't know what to expect, because Randy could be a fairly unpredictable guy. He just hoped that he hadn't killed anyone. Other than that, he was willing to work with the worse people tonight if it meant keeping everyone at bay and out of his face while he waited for his painkillers to sink in.

He looked at Hunter with concern, seeing the expression on his long-time friend/mentor/now boss's face. He wanted to ask Hunter if he was alright, but now wasn't the time. Now was the time to do damage control. And only after that could he be the friend he should be and look after Hunter.

"Last night after Mania, a bunch of us went to this strip club over in Carlstadt, Stiletto's,and I think something got slipped in my drink."

Randy was being as brief and honest as possible. "If you're gonna do a Wellness Test, I'm telling you right now I might fail. And I swear to fuck, Hunter, you know I'm not gonna fuck up on my own. I think all of our drinks got spiked. You got guys in the back who are green, some puking, some dizzy. It was worse a few hours ago and my guess is, since my wallet's $200 lighter, that the girls who work there slipped Liquid X in our drinks. You know I never tested positive for shit like that and I'm -not- about to start now. They knew who we were and drinks were on the house. And I know I'm not the only guy who's wallet's lighter today."

You could see the freak-out in Randy's eyes. He knew this could be Strike 3. He's also not the only one not feeling so great. He's felt better as the day's gone by but is only about 75% of his usual self. He's also not naming names right now, of the others who might be affected.

"Please tell me you're not gonna test today. You know I'm honest with you."

Hunter rubbed the back of his head, where his ponytail use to be. Listening to the story was a bit reminiscent of the 90s, except that they would take the shit on their own back then. With those guys, Jesus. Hard to see how he made it to this sort of power position.

It was Randy's explanation that got him thinking about the past. He remember talking it over with a still buzzed Shawn, only to get screamed at by Vince later. Even some of management would get on their asses. These newer guys, even the early 00s guys could be naive. He didn't expect so many of them to get affected by it, but then again, with all of the boys there, he saw why.

Randy had saved plenty of careers tonight.

"You know what? Tell the damn locker room to stay out of those shady ass clubs. It'll be moved, but I don't know how long that shit stays in your system. You're gonna have to keep me updated on this if you want this to go well."

The way Hunter was looking at Randy was a familiar one. He would give it to him in the Evolution days. The reassuring look to cool his nerves. Sometimes, Orton needed it. Even now, apparently. Randy knew that he would be covered. No doubt about it.

Relief was evident when his shoulders drooped and he exhaled to a point where he even wobbled a bit. Nothing but gratitude was reflecting in his face as he met Hunter's eyes. Yes, throwback a decade, and it would've been Evolution, but they're older now. Wiser. Well, Hunter's wiser. Randy, sometimes, just seems older.

The need to say "thank you" wasn't something that even had to go verbal at this point; the facial and body expressions said it all. Oh, and the offer he made quietly...

"You want me to fuck Brock up for you?" Barely above a whisper, and deadly serious, he offered.

He chuckled a second, completely breaking his professional demeanor. He shook his head for a second, and looked at Randy.

"No, no. You just need to worry about kissin' babies and shaking hands. Save Brock someone else. Probably getting fed to someone, but I'm not allowed to tell you who."

That gave it away, but that program would probably be a mess altogether. Good thing Stephanie was over with creative and not him. "Go on and get ready for the show, I have something to finish, and you probably need to go stretch or something."

They said their goodbyes, and both went on with their night. Considering how crazy the crowd was in Jersey the night after Mania, it may have been a good night, depending on who you were.

(This is just an example of quality. There's no limit for how long a post has to be, nor do you have to make everything string together. That's all up to you as a writer.)