President Dean is Not Happy

[Marcus Welsh]

~President Dean is leaning back in a recliner situated within his luxurious sweet somewhere in Brazil. After a hard day's work of preparation for Revenge, Dean has procured the services of either the sexiest/whoriest looking single chick or, more likely, a high dollar prostitute. She is rubbing her hands all over Dean's chest with his designer shirt halfway unbuttoned. Dean sips on a Gin & Tonic as he watches some wrestling news on the giant flat screen television. He has imported some internet feeds via some form of technology I don't really feel like explaining or looking up. Some weirdo is talking about other federations when a late breaking news story flashes. The hooker hops on Dean's lap, straddling her legs around him. Dean moves his head to the side, interested in the broadcast. An image of OCWHQ in flames and disheveled with Smith's body flying through the air is shown...Dean spits his Gin and Tonic before hurling the hooker to the ground~

President Dean: Mother fucker!!!

Hooker: Oww...that really...

President Dean: Shut up, Hooker!

~Dean orders with his index finger over his mouth. He cranks up the volume~

Reporter: With President Dean nowhere to be found, The Lockwood Party rages on, continuing their impressive destruction of OCWHQ. When will this stop? We don't know...but one thing is for sure...with nearly a week to go until Revenge, things in OCW appear completely out of control. So, in other words, nothing is really new here.

~Dean jumps towards the flat screen TV and he tries to rip it from the wall. His efforts are futile as he looks behind it, seeing it bolted down pretty tightly~

President Dean: Impressive

Hooker: Yea, Dave is really good at mounting those things

~Dean snaps back into rage~

President Dean: MOTHER FUCKING SMITH CAN'T DO ANYTHING RIGHT!

~Dean whips out his phone~

Hooker: Who are you calling?

President Dean: The Ghostbusters

~Her face lights up~

Hooker: Really?? Ohmigosh!!!

~Dean scowls and hurls a benjamin at the stupid whore~

President Dean: Get out

~She takes her money and runs off~

President Dean: Hey, it's Dean...I don't care what you have to do, but those white trash, talentless mother fuckers are to be out of my office by this time tomorrow, you got me, sucka?

~Dean hangs up aggressively before taking a seat back on the recliner. A thought hits him~

President Dean: Ugh, I could really use a blow job right about now

~Maligned over paying a hooker for nothing, he picks up his phone~

President Dean: Yea, can you send Destiny or Trixie or Candy back up here...I don't remember her fucking name. Yes...yes...I know I already paid her...yes, yes, I realize I'd have to pay her again. JUST FUCKING SEND HER UP HERE!

~Dean hangs up~

President Dean: I hate Brazil

~We fade out~