King of the Lavalava

[Cory]

*click.*

*click.*

Roman Reigns had a permanent look of incredulousness as he flicked through pages of Twitter posts on his phone, using his unpublished Twitter account as the vehicle to do so. Occasionally he would tap on a message to see the full thing, shake his head, and go back to skimming the full list. The entire thing was a circus. How people chose to communicate this way was beyond him.

"Done playing Angry Birds? They're almost ready for us."

Roman looked up from his seat near catering to see Paul Heyman, who had a diet coke and a plate of celery and carrots with him. Roman smirked up at him.

Roman Reigns: You done watching your girlish figure?

Paul repeated Roman's words in a nasal, mocking tone. He then sat down across from him.

Paul Heyman: For your information, every big tree starts as a seed. This is a work in progress. Soon I'm going to look like you.

Roman Reigns: You do that, and I'll make you my tag team partner instead of my manager.

Paul Heyman: What are you working on there?

Paul gestured at Roman's phone.

Roman Reigns: Man, you people and your Twitter. It's a damn freak show out there.

Paul Heyman: You really ought to get yourself an EBWF twitter account. Good way to promote yourself.

Roman Reigns: Paul, my timeline is one of two things. Chumps that don't think I should have a job, and my co-workers who think its still real.

Heyman chuckled a little.

Paul Heyman: You're going to have to start investing in Roman Reigns capital, buddy. Promoting yourself on Twitter is one way to do that, despite the fact that you've got guys like Kevin Owens who tweet in kayfabe.

Roman Reigns: I've thought about it, but I don't know. Maybe. Every time I think about setting up an account I realize the Wes Ikeda has to communicate with people who are in character, and I think they don't pay him enough to put up with that bullshit.

Heyman scoffed.

Paul Heyman: Believe me Joe, I've seen Wes' house. He gets paid enough. No one's stopping you from ignoring any kayfabe potshots that get sent your way. It's just another chance to turn some heads in your direction. With the King of the Ring tournament here, that never hurts.

Roman nodded a little and put his phone to sleep, stuffing it in one of the pockets of his black cargo pants that made up his wrestling attire. Heyman ate a couple more sticks of celery and finished his soda before throwing his plate away.

Paul Heyman: Let's head over to Renee.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Renee Young smiled brightly, centered in the middle of a Death Before Dishonor themed backdrop.

Renee Young: Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we will have a very exciting lineup for you as Death Before Dishonor gets underway! In addition to some exciting title matches tonight, we will also see the continuation of the King of the Ring tournament. The Miz takes on Dean Ambrose. Cesaro takes on the Rock. We also have...

Renee stopped as Roman Reigns stepped into the picture, a smile on his face.

Roman Reigns: Hey girl, you forgot one.

Renee Young: Well, it appears that I'm going to be joined by--

Roman Reigns: Renee. Renee. It's all good. It's hard to concentrate when you see me around. I get it. But the truth is that there's only one person that needs to be focused on the match I have against Bully Ray. And that's me. It's all I've been thinking about all week. When I was in the gym attacking the bag, I was thinking about fighting Bully Ray. When I was hitting the weights, I was thinking about powerbombing Bully Ray into oblivion. I'm--

"Excuse me!"

Paul Heyman arrived from behind Roman and snatched the microphone from Renee. Roman rolled his eyes at his "advocate".

Paul Heyman: What gives you the right to interview my client without my supervision or approval, Renee? Roman Reigns, the most impressive athlete that the EBWF has ever seen, has spent a lot of money retaining me as his advocate. Every message he sends, every interview he conducts is to be tightly controlled and filtered through me. This is summertime now, Renee! The time of the King of the Ring tournament! Every wrestler worth his salt is spending his days and nights focusing on the long tradition of going through the tournament bracket and becoming King, which shoots you to the top of the ladder. So you'll understand if I don't allow you to pepper my client with distracting questions. He needs to focus on--

Roman reached out and cupped the mic with his hand, slowly lowering it and removing it from Paul's hands. He shook his head silently before bringing the mic back up to his lips and turning to face Renee.

Roman Reigns: See what I have to deal with, Renee? I'm just tryin' to be out here, ready to give you an interview and then go beat Bully Ray's ass, but this bag of snacks has gotta come and make things complicated. Let me make it real simple for you, Renee.

Roman produced a large piece of cloth from one of the rear pockets of his cargo pants. he unfolded it and displayed it to the camera. It was a long and wide piece of green and brown cloth, which looked slightly wrinkled from being tied off in the front.

Roman Reigns: This here? It's a lavalava. A traditional samoan skirt. Yeah, it's a skirt. Some people might laugh at that, but those people wouldn't be laughin' if I was standing in front of them. These are worn by my family, and my people in American Samoa. I'm proud of it, and anytime I got back to visit my family, you can bet your ass you'll see me in one of these. Like the image, do you Renee?

He winked at her before continuing.

Roman Reigns: Back when I worked for... that other company, that was their great idea for me. Stick me in a lavalava and march me out there to do samoan stuff before I beat people up. Like that kind of stupid crap ain't been done before to my uncles and my cousins before me. I came to EBWF because I'm not here to do samoan dances and yell samoan battle cries. I'm here to kick some ass, and be a champion. So that's what I'm going to do when Bully Ray comes knocking. I'm going to send him back to his new friend Tyler Breeze in a box, and then I'm going to become King... of the Ring.

Reigns smirked and walked off, Paul Heyman in tow.