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Mac · 10-14-2018, 02:16 AM

(1124 Words)

Dean strolled into the dark office, it was a weird feeling, almost Supernatural in nature to be doing this, but as he took a seat, a voice was heard from behind the dark marble desk, hidden in the shadows, and sitting back in a rather uncomfortable looking steel and iron chair, complete with spikes and blades and a demonic skull looming overhead.

The horrific looking creature known as Mac, leaned forward,revealing part of his face, and welcomed the young player, who looked slightly unnerved looking at the man whom controlled him.

"So what brings you here, Dean" the voice said with the hint of a scottish accent.
"A truce, so to speak" Dean replied.
"A truce you say, whatever do you mean"
"Well, Mac, when you were dealing with my grandfather, you tended to cause a lot of trouble around the league, drama, bullshit, and getting yourself suspended at least once. Seeing as now you hold my career as your creation, I would very much like to not have to deal with the fallout of your actions in the way that my father did"

Mac leaned back in his chair, drinking from the glass of Johnny Walker Blue he had poured himself prior to Deans arrival.

"Interesting."

Dean looked rather apprehensively at the black clothed figure, one who gained a rather distasteful reputation within the SHL throughout the years, for good reason, as one of the oldest, and definitely one of the most hotheaded creators of simulation league players, many a member tended to shy away from interactions with him.

Dean swallowed his fear, and continued

"Your ahem, reputation, precedes you, and with it, I am affected. Your last creation,Badum Tuch was seen as a bit of a joke, and was passed over by every SHL team, causing his early retirement and return to North Korea, which brought great shame to his glorious leader, whom punished him severely. He is now shoveling pig shit in the royal farm for a living, as his shot and skill was that of a shit shoveler controlled by a shit disturber according to them.:

Mac chuckled to himself.

"Yes, I have been a bit of a prick, haven't I. Well, it sort of goes with the terriority around here."

Dean sighed

"See that is exactly the attitude that caused so much trouble for you in the past and will continue to do so in the future, unless you change your ways, and I would rather my career not end up like Tuch, I want to play in the SHL, and with you, I may not get a chance.

Right from the start, you created a bit of drama. You stated I would only play with Brock Nuck and nowhere else should draft me, what do you think that did? That would make some GMs hesitant to draft me as they expect drama if Nuck and myself are not drafted together, so first of all, I want to be released from that bond.

While I love Nuck, I don't want anything holding me back from an SHL career, and you saying that may hinder that hope. I will play for just about anyone in the league, I have a lot of records I wish to chase and a goal to surpass them all. It is going to take many many seasons to do so, with a lot of work involved, I am going after all my grandfathers records, the goal scoring record and want to add some personal hardware along with at least two challenge cups, but regardless of all that, I plan on having the longest career in SHL history.

I am looking at probably thirty seasons at this point and I don't think that will turn out as well, if I am not drafted into the SHL and have to spend another season as a junior, with the limitations that it brings in training and progression.

Mac stared deeply at the young player.

"You realize, it was I who pushed your grandfather to be the best he could be? I used my anger and frustration and channeled it into one of the best two way forwards this game has ever seen? He was strong, he was was powerful, he at his request was made the faceoff king of the SHL. His goal was to prove his dominance on the ice and I fed that mad dog."

Dean felt a spark of courage

"A dog is only as good as his master, and you were a bitter angry man, he was a good dog so to speak, whipped by his master, who in a bit of tirade at his kennel master, decided to put him down out of spite, is that what is in store for me? A childish end to what could have been a hall of fame career? Are you going to force me into retirement the same way you did my grandfather when someone pisses you off this time around?"

Mac bit his lip at this

"Look here, you little maggot, I control you, and what happens to you, is solely my decision. If I want to cause some shit, I will cause some shit, and there is nothing you can do about it. If I want to beat you like a badly behaved dog, I will. If I want to set my mad dog off on another creator, I will do that as well, you have no power here, Dean the Third."

Dean looked around the room, behind him at the door, to his right, a brick fireplace burned brightly, to his left, the entirety of the wall was a window, looking out over the western sea off Vancouver, and lastly he looked behind Mac, at the fourth wall.

"Oh, but that is where you are wrong, Mac." Dean stated, before pulling the gun from inside his coat, the Colt Single Action Army, he aimed it at Macs heart, as his eyes grew wide.

"Where did you get that" He stammered.

"It doesn't matter how, or where, now, you will first release me from any control from the demon inside you, and send that evil bastard to where he belongs, Gibbys Cage. Secondly, you will make me the Lord of The Dot in the SHL, far more powerful and far better than my grandfather ever was, and lastly, if I ever see that demon back around the league again, so help me fuck, I will end you."

And with that, Dean turned and walked out of the office...but turned just before closing the door, strode over to the desk, looked Mac dead in the eye, and said, "oh, I forgot something"

Picked up the bottle of Johnny Blue, and exited the room.