On the day before the upcoming IRW event, Vince arrived at the arena and was greeted with the usual pre-show atmosphere: an employee preparing the ring, sound testing the lights, and Lance yelling commands at the technicians as they slumbered away. However, Vince discovered Lance standing in the middle of the backstage area, looking very tense and pale. He had the appearance of a man who just experienced a ghost sighting, or maybe was just about to find out that ACW was receiving higher ratings than IRW.
Vince didn't hesitate to approach him, stopping a few feet in front of him. Vince asked, "What's wrong? Did something happen with the lineup? Did Eddie say something? Did he leave?"
Vince realized that he had asked too many questions in a row and regretted his urgency.
Still, Lance answered with a weary voice, "It's not about Eddie. It's... about Red TV. Two people are here from Red TV."
Vince felt instant relief. He had feared for a second that Eddie had left for ACW, which would be a disaster before this event.
Vince asked, "Why the long face?" and "Are you not thrilled that the renewal talks started so quickly? It is indicative of how impressed they clearly are."
Lance's face revealed no emotion. In fact, he appeared to get worse with each passing minute. "The terms... they are nothing like what we anticipated. Come along; they are expecting us."
They proceeded down the hallway and into Vince's office, where two gentlemen in dark suits awaited them. The atmosphere was void of personality, filled with corporate sterility. Upon seeing Lance and Vince, the younger gentleman stood immediately.
He had an attractive, youthful face with sharp features and a friendly and courteous smile, whereas the second gentleman remained seated, with a very cocky aura, both physically and mentally. He had an overweight stomach protruding out of the buttons of his suit.
Stepping away from the table, the younger gentleman stepped forward. "Mister Dawson and Mister Maston; Ross Berkley from the Broadcasting Division of RedTV. This is my partner, Mister Benson." Benson did not stand but looked at both men over his glasses, like a teacher looking at bad students.
Vince sat behind his desk and received the contract from Lance without saying anything to him and proceeded to read it. After a fast, extremely surprised look, he replaced it on the table and returned to his previous state of emotionless focus, leaning back in his chair.
Ross was about to speak, but before he could do so, Benson raised his hand, indicating that he should hold his tongue while they awaited Vince's response.
Lance, obviously familiar with how this dance was going to play out, was the first to speak: "Vince, is this open to negotiation?"
Lance watched as Vince's head turned to face him, and he could clearly see the fire of anger in Vince's eyes. Lance internally groaned at how bad this was going to get.
Vince started off by addressing Ross, but as Vince spoke, his gaze was already darting toward Benson, "Let me ask you a question: do you think we're that stupid?"
Ross was very surprised with Vince's question, while Benson became guarded and narrowed his eyes.
Vince tapped his finger on the contract. "This says you'll pay us two million dollars over a six-month period?" Vince's voice was almost like a laser beam, cold but with a lot of pressure behind it. "And the contract has clauses where half of what you receive has total control over our production and rerun rights? After all the great ratings we have given IRW and you offer us something like this?"
Finally, it was Benson's turn to speak.
"Mr. Maston," he said in a calm, condescending tone, "If you feel you cannot meet the proposed terms, simply let us know."
"I'm letting you know," Vince shot back passionately. "I'm stating my opinion very clearly: The offer you've presented is not only disgracefully low, but actually disrespectful as well."
Ross's expression changed with discomfort. Benson's expression grew colder.
"You're judging us based on one month of results," Benson stated. "One month does not override all previous months of history. Before you took ownership of it, IRW Continued to perform at or below our expectations and within one month of termination from our network."
Lance lowered his head and clenched his fist tightly.
Vince leaned forward. "And who gave you your record ratings? We did it. You're discounting the numbers that we provided to you. IRW did it."
The smile on Benson's face was faint and sharp.
"For the sake of your… contribution to wrestling, Mr. Maston, we can adjust."
Clearing his throat, he stated, "4 million dollars, for 8 months."
Ross leans in, assuming this was an extremely generous compromise, whereas Vince only smiles slowly and dangerously, a very unsettling smile. Ross shudders.
"4 million dollars?" Vince repeated. "You want to receive this amount of money for a company that is breaking records? What do you expect us to do next? Pay you for broadcasting our shows? Do you think that IRW is just a machine that can be used until it breaks? Something that can be taken from for ratings but given nothing to in return?"
He didn't use the terms "cows" and "slaves", but the implication is there.
Benson has a tight jaw.
Once again he leans forward, "If IRW isn't satisfied with what RedTV is offering... there is nothing that would prevent you from making a deal with one of our competitors."
Lance eyes were wide, "Mr. Benson..." but he cuts Lance off.
"Ross, listen closely, learn from this, some people believe that they are invincible because of their time in the limelight, but that fame doesn't mean that they are irreplaceable; it just gives them a loud voice."
Vince felt the sting of the insult slightly after hearing it.
A small muscle in Vince's jaw began to twitch. "I understand." Vince said quietly. "Now let me yell as well Mr. Benson".
Benson rose to the occasion and finally stood up.
"If you want to withdraw from the partnership, Mr. Maston, do so. We do not plead for partnerships here."
"We also do not plead," Vince said through gritted teeth. "If Red TV does not see the value in us, we will find someone who does."
The tension reached its breaking point and Benson whipped around and left the room. Ross stopped a moment to look at Benson and Vince with regret.
"I'm... I'm sorry," Ross said softly. "I was trying to tell him to be more flexible--"
"It doesn't matter," Vince said. "Thank you for your time."
Ross nodded his head and hurried off after Benson.
As soon as the door closed, it was clear through the hallway that people were talking about what happened. The crew had positioned themselves near a corner and acted like they weren't eavesdropping. Some of the younger wrestlers stared wide eyed.
Maya Hart was one of those younger wrestlers, she was covered in sweat from training with Evelyn Sharma.
She caught the eye of a light technician who said "Big boss just fought with Red TV".
As Maya realized this was all happening because RedTV was the only way they could survive at all, if they lost that connection, they were going to fail.
She knew she should go to Vince's office and find out exactly what was happening, but instead, she chose to wait until he cooled off.
Lance sat down in his office and lay back on the couch with his eyes closed while rubbing his temples.
"Well…" he groaned, "now we need a new broadcaster."
Vince sighed, finally cooling off a bit, "You know there's probably some network out there that's interested in working with us on something cutting edge."
Lance perked his head and lifted an eyebrow. "I was thinking maybe we could try RedTV again; perhaps they will see it differently."
As Vince pushed a button on the shredder, the RedTV contract turned into paper confetti.
Lance flinched and looked down.
"Well...that's out of consideration."
Vince rose from his chair, straightened his suit coat, and said, "We've got a month till they can cut us off." He then looked at Lance. "Find out as many potential networks that would support this new idea as possible, and put a list together by this evening."
Lance nodded slowly. "I'll see what I can do."
As Vince left the office and moved through a crowd of wrestlers pretending not to watch him and the production team gossiping, he sensed the tension in the air.
He stepped outside into the cool air and hailed a taxi.
As it pulled up, he muttered, "Really need to buy a car…"
And as he rode toward Maston Holdings, his mind raced with possibilities.