“They say the cream rises to the top...”

Alceo Dentari held a palm to his chest and gently patted the breast of his custom made suit jacket. It wasn’t some mass produced, off the rack number whose value was determined by the surname sewn into the lining. The surname, mind you, of a man that had never laid a finger on said garment.

No, it was a product of Eddie Salmeri, an old family friend and the Dentaris go to guy for most of their clothing for the last fifty years. Sure, Salmeri’s hands didn’t work quite as fast as they did when they were younger, but his results? Fuhgedaboudit.

“But so does pond scum.” He added as he turned up his nose, “Now I ain’t no gardener, an’ I sure as shit ain’t no botanist neither. So as far as I’m concerned, the best way to get rid any crap yous don’t want floatin’ around... is to remove it.”

Unusually for Alceo Dentari he wasn’t addressing the camera directly. Nor was he sat in his usual high backed, red velvet lined throne. Instead he sat behind a dark wooden desk, mahogany by the looks of it, and he spoke to two men stood directly opposite. The same to men that had helped him advance to the final stages of the Masters of Wrestling tournament, both of whom remained nameless.

“This comin’ week it’s gonna be yous twos jobs to make sure everythin’ goes down the way it’s supposed to.” Dentari said as his outstretched index finger flitted between men, “I ain’t spent all this time, all this money, all this effort... just to watch as someone else’s hand gets raised in victory.”

“It’s gonna be my hand gettin’ raised, an’ my name bein’ called out as the Master of Wrestlin’ Grand Champion at the end a’ the night, capiche?” He asked, “Everyone remembers number one. Ain’t nobody that gives two shits about who got second, third...”

“Fourth...” He said reluctantly, “They ain’t options! Yous got that? I ain’t takin’ no result but first!”

The nameless men nodded along like bobbleheads on a dashboard.

“Good.” Said Alceo sans emotion, “Now show our guest in.”

Dentari clearly motioned for the smaller of the two to get the door, but he simply looked sideways and raised his eyebrows at his taller counterpart. With a roll of the eyes the rotund, balding giant turned and waddled his way over to the heavy oak doors.

They swung open with a click and the big man gestured for whomever was outside to enter. Sheepishly a familiar face emerged from the light of the hallway into the dim light of Alceo’s office.

Defiance’s own, Lance Warner.

“Take a seat, Lance.” Said Alceo with a false smile as he waved his hand towards a chair across the desk from him, “Can I get yous a drink?”

Dentari clicked his fingers and in a flash the thinner man headed over to the drinks cabinet that stood against the wall and pulled out a decanter full of a brown, most likely extremely expensive, liquid.

“No, I’m fine thank you, Alceo.” Replied Lance nervously, he’d not been this close to Dentari since Evolution TV 05 when Dentari had him up against the wall with his hand wrapped around his throat, all because of a simple question.

“Please, I insist.” Alceo pressed. He looked over at the shorts of the two taller man and nodded. Without hesitation he dropped a couple of ice cubes into a glass and almost filled it with the brown liquid. He brought it over and set it down in front of Lance.

“Oh... ok then...” Lance said reluctantly, “Just a small one then.”

The heavy door slammed shut in the background, causing Lance to almost jump out of his skin, much to the amusement of Alceo. “Lance, relax!” He laughed, “We’re all friends here, right?”

The other two gentlemen grinned and returned to their places either side of Lance’s chair. Warner looked up at them and swallowed the large lump in his throat that had formed. “So, uhh, Alceo, how’s it goi-”

Dentari’s hand shot up cutting Lance off mid sentence, “Lance,” He said, “We ain’t gotta do the formalities. I’m good, your good, my boys are good. So what say we skip that bullshit, you ask me the questions yous really want the answers to, an’ we can all get back to doin’ what needs to be done?”

Lance didn’t need to be told twice, while he was as dedicated a journalist as you could find, he didn’t feel much like sitting in the presence of Alceo Dentari or the two gorillas that towered over him any longer than necessary. “Ok then.” he said, half smiling for the first time, “Well, first off, footage surfaced online last week featuring yourself and these two...”

Lance looked up at the men beside him and hesitated a little longer than he probably should have done over his next word.

“Gentlemen...” He finally said, which received a slight nod from Dentari, obviously the right thing to say, “The footage appeared to show the three of you running from the arena, looking over your shoulders. Care to fill us in on what was going on?”

Dentari smiled, but the joy that spread over his lips didn’t stretch to his eyes, they remained as intense as ever. “I seem to recall readin’ somethin’ online.” Alceo said, biting his lip to control his rising anger, “Some speculation over what we was ‘runnin’’ from.”

Air quotes and all.

“Lance, I’m a busy man. I got a lot goin’ on.” Dentari said as though he’d rehearsed that line time and time again, “It just so happened that I had some business to attend to that night so I had to leave the arena as soon as I’d beat Sam Turner Jr.”

Lance scribbled quickly onto his notepad and nodded along, after all, that was his job. Whether he was buying the story though, that was another matter. “You all appeared to be looking over your shoulders for something.” He said, “Were you looking for anything, or anyone, in particular?”

Dentari shifted uncomfortably in his seat and pursed his lips, “Like I said, I had business to attend to, important business that I had to get to.” He said through gritted teeth, “So if you must know, we was makin’ sure nobody was followin’ us.”

Lance opened his mouth to speak again.

“But!” Alceo quickly interjected, preventing Warner from moving on to his next question, “We wasn’t lookin’ for Mike Sloan, Sam Turner Jr. or any a’ them other schmucks like yous was so quick to report.”

“So who were you looking for?” Asked Lance, throroughly unconvinced by Dentari’s explaination.

Alceo didn’t want to answer, but he didn’t have much choice, he couldn’t have the world believe he felt threatened by anybody like Mike Sloan, “Yous remember WarGames?” He asked.

Lance responded with a nod.

“Then you’ll remember that masked freak, Ultra Raptor.” Said Dentari, still with gritted teeth.

Again, Lance nodded.

“He weren’t gonna jump me again.” Dentari said bluntly, “He’s lucky I had somewhere to be, cause nobody gets away with jumpin’ Alceo Dentari.”

Lance scribbled on his pad again. Dentari craned his neck as though to attempt to read what he was writing.

“Do me a favor,” Alceo said as though a fantastic idea had just come to him “Send a copy a’ that page to Heidi, will yous?”

“An’ underline nobody.”

To Be Continued...
 

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