Middle Man

[Cory]

OOC: This turned out to be more of a character development RP for Heyman than it did a Brock match RP. Sorry for the poor turn out, Raza. Loved your RP, sir!

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"Family Night Out @ The Melting Pot on Delmar!" From: Gloria Montanarelli <gloria.montanarelli@ebwf.net>

Heyman, glossy eyed, stared as his phone's e-mail client as he almost robotically swiped left. He wasn't exactly in the mood to RSVP to some dinner party that the girls on the 24th floor were putting together. He had a hard enough time keeping track of even the mandatory social events.

Message deleted.

"Yo" From: Vince Russo <vince@pyroandballyhoo.com>

Without even bothering to look at the first few lines of the email's contents, Heyman swiped left. Nope, not today and not ever.

Message deleted.

"I need a manager! And a job!" From: Braden Walker <knockurbrainsout2012@gmail.com>

Heyman's eyes widened. He was almost tempted to tap on the email and see what was going on there. Finally, after brief deliberation, he swiped left. Reading that e-mail just seemed like it was a bag of hurt waiting to happen.

Message deleted.

Heyman sighed, looking for something of substance to read in his inbox, as he waited for Brock Lesnar to arrive. Tonight, Brock Lesnar would be going up against Sami Zayn, a young, hungry superstar who was delighting the upper echelon of the Administration with his work ethic and his skill set. It was seemingly a wash as to which of them would go on in the King of the Ring tournament this year, considering Brock Lesnar's part-time contract deal. The argument for Lesnar would come down to his drawing power, and bona fide star status. Typically, Paul would receive communications about the finish prior to most others, since most people were ostensibly disinterested in letting Brock Lesnar know who he needed to do the honors for. As he continued to scan his email, his eyes fell upon a most interesting topic.

"Re: Plans for Adam" From: Joanie Helmsley <joanie.helmsley@ebwf.net>

Heyman quickly tapped onto the waiting message with his index finger, having been eagerly awaiting some correspondence from Joanie regarding Edge and where they could fit him in with a program on television. He had taken it on as a side project of sorts, since the management of Brock Lesnar backstage required very little maintenance. Just as he was going over the contents of the email on his smartphone, he heard a commotion outside his room. The voices were one male and one very distinctly irritated female. The voices got louder, and when he realized that he could tell who it was, he quickly went to the door and opened it to survey the scene. Just as he had feared, he saw Adam Cropland, known to the world of wrestling as Edge, who was chest to nose with a tiny, Canadian ball of fire by the name of Trish Stratus. Before Heyman could react, Trish had already reared back her hand, and cracked Adam across the face with a slap that echoed through the hallway of the Mizzou Arena. Paul immediately opted to take action. There was already enough tension for the night. Heyman exited the doorway from his room and inserted himself between the two.

Paul Heyman: Woah, woah, hang on here. Trish, Adam... why don't you two take a minute to cool off, eh? Come on, you're making a scene.

Trish stormed off as Adam looked after her, lightly rubbing his chin. Adam's gaze fell back on the former owner of ECW, who cocked an eyebrow at him.

Paul Heyman: Well, that was special.

Adam Copeland: Hey Paul.

Paul Heyman: Let's talk, you and I.

Heyman put his hand on Copeland's shoulder blade and gestured towards the room he had set up. Lesnar had not arrived yet, and so the room had the privacy he needed. He closed the door when Adam walked through.

Adam Copeland: So, get me in the main event yet?

Paul leaned on the table that had been set up for him, and folded his arms. He looked down at the floor as he chose his words, his hands pressed together as if in prayer.

Paul Heyman: Adam, the thing I like about Brock, and one of the reasons we get along so well, is that he is a very deceptively smart man. He's detail oriented, he has a high business acumen, and he's extremely knowledgable about the things he's passionate about, and can actually speak about them quite eloquently. If he really wanted to, he could come out here on his own, cut his own promos, and still be as big as he is today.

Adam looked at Paul with a bizarre look of incredulousness.

Adam Copeland: And I'm supposed to care because...

Paul Heyman: You're supposed to care, because that's you. The reasons that Brock Lesnar is a success in this business are the same reasons that you're a success in this business. You are every bit as smart as he is, and then some. There's no question in my mind. So the question that rolls around in my brain is, why then would Adam Copeland make decisions that a stupid man would make? Clearly he's not, so why would he do that?

Adam stiffened up, partially irritated because of the lasting sting on his jaw, and also Paul's choice of words.

Adam Copeland: What the fuck is your point, Paulie? My business with Trish is none of yours.

Paul Heyman: I certainly appreciate that. My business, Adam, is you. You are my business because you asked me to make you my business. I am communicating with Joanie on a regular basis about you, and trying to get you out of this creative rut they've put you in. I'm trying my hardest, but when you cause a ruckus like the one you just caused, you make my job harder.

Adam scoffed, folding his arms in defiance.

Adam Copeland: I don't need you to get featured, Paul. I've been in the EBWF a lot longer than you have. I can go to Wes at any time and get whatever I want. All I need you for is creative ideas.

Heyman's head recoiled back a little, finding that statement puzzling. His sarcasm continued.

Paul Heyman: That's strange. If you have Wes' ear, and you can get on TV whenever you want, well why aren't you ? Why aren't you on TV? What good are my "creative ideas" if you're never on the show to make them happen?

Adam paused. He pointed at Heyman and opened up his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. After a brief second, he turned toward the door.

Adam Copeland: Just make it happen, Paul.

As Adam reached for the door knob, the door opened and in walked Brock Lesnar, in a t-shirt and basketball shorts. Lesnar cocked an eyebrow at Adam, who looked right back at him.

Adam Copeland: Nice to see you could make it. How's the farm?

Adam rolled his eyes and brushed past the behemoth of a man, making his exit. Lesnar looked after him and smirked silently. He spoke his response rather plainly.

Brock Lesnar: Great.

Lesnar closed the door and turned to face Paul.

Brock Lesnar: They ready for me, yet?

Paul Heyman: Why can't main eventers be more like you, Brock? I forgot what it's like to work with such fragile egos.

Brock Lesnar: They can't all be me. Matter of fact...

Lesnar shrugged and grinned.

Brock Lesnar: No one can.

Paul and Brock headed out the room and off to cut their EBWF.net exclusive promo for Warfare.