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Stormblessed Media - Stormblessed - 05-31-2017
Prologue
Stormblessed woke up in a hotel room with a ridiculous headache. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he surveys his surroundings. He quickly sees underwear on the floor, pink suitcases in the closet and a half eaten pizza on the table.
He groans and rolls to his left. He checks the clock. 11:31 am. F***. Oh well, just another workout missed. That’s never hurt him before.
He rolls to his right and sees …someone next to him in bed, covered in the sheets. Please be a girl, he thinks. Please be a girl.
He coughs and she turns over. Success! It’s a she. But..who? Sitting up at the edge of the bed he clears his head before noticing some Advil and a glass of water on the nightstand. He’s woken up in this state so often, it appears he’s started to plan for the morning. Smart. Pounding the Advil and the water, he stands up and grabs a slice of pizza before almost puking. Nope, not happening right now.
He sees her wallet on the couch and quietly walks over. Making sure she’s still sleeping in the opposite direction, he opens it and checks her ID. Sumiko, huh? Storm always did have a thing for Asians.
He grabs the twenty dollar bill from her wallet with a smile – he needs all the money he can get for the oppressive weekly training prices.
This isn’t his room, and he doesn’t really want to make conversation right now, so he grabs his clothes and the rest of his belongings, dresses and leaves.
With absolutely no idea where he is, he hails an uber. Quickly, it arrives and Stormblessed directs him to his hotel. On the ride he gets an message from his agent, Dilly.
“Not mad about you missing training, you have a drug test scheduled for today at the hotel. Will you pass?”
Storm laughs. Will he pass? Dumb question. He always passes.
“Come on man, you know me.”
“Let me know how it goes. Draft tomorrow night, don’t forget.”
“Ok.”
Chapter 1 – Stormblessed
Cautiously sliding into the crowded lobby of the lavish hotel, I see two guys who are clearly from the league office. Idiots. Might as well be wearing referee outfits. They probably saw my post on Instagram last night and decided to “randomly” drug test me. Fine. I’ve been “randomly” drug tested many times in the past. Not hard to beat such a test. I just need to find a way past them without them noticing me.
I survey the lobby. An old couple lounging on the chairs, a family arriving for vacation, honeymooners making out. Not much I can use. Wait, is that a fire alarm? Nope, cameras pointed right at it.
Thinking quickly I focus on the pitcher of fruit water by the league officials. Perfect. I motion one of the kids from the family over. They are busy checking in. He comes over and I pull out the $20 from …whatever her name was this morning.
“Hey kid, want to make $20?”
“Duh”
I whisper some instructions to him and give him the money. He smiles and moves towards the pitcher. He grabs a glass and stumbles into it, knocking it over. Right on to the league agents. Good job kid!
In the commotion, I easily slip to the stairs and slowly walk up to my room. Thankfully the Advil is working and I barely feel my headache.
Knowing this day was probably going to happen, I brought my emergency pass kit. The key to passing drug tests was making the guy watching you piss so uncomfortable he doesn’t pay much attention.
Pulling out the kit, I open it and laugh. Every time I see this damn thing I can’t help but laugh. Vial of clean urine attached to a prosthetic dick. But not just any dick, no. A two inch micro. Guys being guys, I’ll just have to ask him to look away because I’m ashamed and he’ll smirk and look away. Easy.
I fasten the device after putting on a new change of clothes and take the elevators to the lobby. I pretend I don’t know what’s going on as I get greeted by them. They escort me to my own room, can you believe that shit?
They set up in my bathroom and I go ahead and give them the whole act and do my business. They leave and I take off the device.
I grab my phone and text Dilly.
“All good.”
Chapter 2 – Dilly Jackson
Feeling the phone buzzing in my pocket as I drive my Range Rover to the office, I check it. Message from Storm. “All good.” Breathing a little sigh of relief, I slide the phone back into my pocket.
Arriving at my office, I settle in to the computer and check my emails. A bunch of nice to knows, with nothing terribly pressing at the moment. The draft is tomorrow night, and that takes all priority.
I forward a couple off to my secretary, Sue. Mostly signature requests for some clients currently playing in the NFL. I sink into my chair slightly and sigh. F**king Storm. I told him to go play in the NFL but he was convinced by this NSFL. He would have made more money, gotten more exposure but no. He believes in the project.
I’ve done my absolute best to try and quell some of the rumors surrounding his off-field exploits but there is too much smoke for me to put it all out. Damage control is done, now to try and manage my clients expectations. I need to find out where he’s going to go, and in what range. There are only six teams in the upstart league, so he doesn’t have a wide range of outcomes.
Might as well start alphabetically. Dialing the number for the Arizona front office, I get patched through to the GM – someone named Bogdan. I roll my eyes. Where are they getting these people from? I quickly chat with Bogdan – or Bog as I call him – and make some notes.
Next up, Baltimore and their GM, Ray. I repeat the process through the rest of the six franchises. Colorado, Orange County, San Jose and Yellowknife. F**king Yellowknife? Canada? Get the f**k out of here with that. There is no way Storm is going to YELLOWKNIFE. I tell their GM to suck it and move the franchise to a better place.
For whatever reason it looks like Storm is currently considered a mid-round prospect. Most teams have a similar grade on him, and it stems from how unreliable he is off the field. It’s probably fair, but I’m not going to let them know that. As far as they’re concerned, Storm is a model citizen.
I call Storm to tell him the news.
Chapter 3 – Stormblessed
Storm is at the hotel holding his phone as it rings.
“Hey DJ, what’s up?”
“Storm, I just got off the phone with the five franchises that I’m ok with you going to.”
“Wait, five?”
“Yeah I’m not sending you to Yellowknife.”
“Where the f**k is Yellowknife?”
“Canada. But like Artic.”
“Yeah forget that – good looking out, DJ.”
“It’s what I do, boss. Ok so you’re probably a middle round pick. Not sure where, teams are being intentionally vague about that. They like you, but think you present a little risk.”
“Risk?”
“Yeah…they don’t like players missing workouts and stuff like that.”
“Ok, no worries. So probably middle rounds?”
“Yeah that’s what I’m currently hearing.”
“Keep me posted. Later.”
I hang up the phone and consider what DJ just told me. Middle rounds. I’m not playing for a middle round contract, that’s for sure. But, it may be a good thing if we get our QB drafted high. I don’t want to play with some donkey throwing me the ball.
Smiling, I get up and leave my room – I need to look fly for draft night. I call an Uber and head to the nearest Rolex dealer.
Stormblessed Media - Stormblessed - 05-31-2017
1339 words. 1 million
Stormblessed Media - timeconsumer - 05-31-2017
This man is going places, fast.
Stormblessed Media - JBLAZE_THE_BOSS - 06-05-2017
Grade
Word Count: 1339
Payout: 1 MIL
Commentary: This was nicely done. An interesting route to take with medias, it was ballsy but you pulled it off. You didn't ramble on for too long and I actually enjoyed this. Hope there's more down the line.