Mercy, A Lot.

"Is that so?" Mercy said. "Well, I'm certainly glad a little bit of dignity could be saved for my sake. That I didn't..." Mercy wrinkled her nose and looked back and forth. 'With a ... bum!" She could say those words int he middle. Not aloud, whens he was speaking so freshly to Clyde. "Ughh!" She threw her hands sown as her spine shivered. She furrowed her brow at Clyde some more as he went on.

"Not just me... anyone!" Mercy chastised as Clyde turned away. "How could you expect me to like you if you aren't even decent to yourself!?" Mercy shook her head and threw Taylor a look.. As Clyde began to try and slink off, Mercy took a wide step and grabbed his shoulders. "I don't think so, buddy. Maybe you think you can slink away from me, but you aren't off the clock yet. I am not going to just let you slink away without even getting a decent picture. Maybe you don't care about what the bosses have to say, but I'm a little tired of getting reemed out." Not that she was, she was a good little gopher, but Clyde didn't need to know that.

Mercy grabbed Clyde by the hand and marched him back to where the photographer was. "What is that belt anyway? Are you the Friction champ or something? Is it even real?' She doubted as she pushed a wrestler out of the way and brought Clyde back into the light of the photographer's area.

"Taylor, could you please come stand here again?" She said sweetly. 'We're getting a picture." She said back to Clyde as she inspected him.She then let out a sigh and pulled out a handkerchief. "Honestly. We don't have time to get you into make up. It would be a miracle anyway." Mercy spit on her handkerchief and began to rub Clyde's cheek like a doting mother. "And, I really don't care if you ARE the Friction champ. No one cares about that show. You'll be getting much better publicity posing with a Friction hot shot like Taylor." Mercy turned and looked at Taylor. "Sorry... I hope this doesn't sink your career." She said, teasing as she took a step back and inspected Clyde one last time. "This time act like you can actually do something aside from make a scene, ok? You're a wrestler... look.. I dunno, fierce. Pretend like You and Taylor are just about to have the match of the century or something."

Mercy looked at the camera man. "That's good motivation, right?" She asked a little sheepishly.

Clyde wasn't quite sure how he felt about Mercy. He liked her enough to WANT to try and clean his act up in order to impress her. But another part of him though felt it was kind of pointless, that he was just wasting his time and only making himself look dumb and desperate. Maybe he'd think about it more when he got home. Clyde didn't know, but it became clear he wasn't going home just yet when he felt a pair of hands grab his shoulders.

"Crud." Thought Clyde, sighing as Mercy declared they weren't through yet. Clyde could have easily forced himself out of Mercy's grasp and just walk out the door if he really wanted to but Mercy's words gave Clyde the impression that she was going to get reemed out by her bosses if he didn't do this promo thing. Needed a decent picture apparently. Clyde guessed the higher ups arranged this because he was a major player in the league and didn't have a single promotional picture after being with the company for for so long. He certainty did not want her to get in trouble because of him and decided to bite the bullet and comply for Mercy's sake.

High Ranked, Semi-Famous Wrestler or Not, Mercy clearly didn't know much if not Anything about the company she worked for. And she was in charge of this promo thing? "Good Grief!" Clyde thought as he looked at her with his mouth hung open and his eyebrow raised in surprise at her questions.

"Friction Cham-...Hah. Naaww, girl. I ain't Sarah Fatt." Clyde let out with an amused chuckle. "Friction is for ladies and hoes. Mostly hoes." He mused. Not really caring that Taylor was there and hoping she took it the wrong way or assumed wrong. He didn't even consider her to be a slut anyway. She was a lady in his eyes... A bitchy lady.

"I work for Tension and this is the 24/7 Title... Yes it's real... I defend it anywhere at anytime." Clyde stated proudly. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't dissapointed that people didn't chase him for the damn thing and within a room full of wrestlers he didn't mind a brawl.

Still, Clyde was pulled up to the photograph area, he wondered what he had to do to earn Mercy's favor, clearly Taylor had it by how nice Mercy was to her. Whatever he thought, nothing he could do about that and would just stand there and let Mercy take that wet handkerchief to his cheek, blushing at the act that made him feel like a little kid. "Damn right it'd be a miracle! Clyde Gastin ain't ever gon' wear makeup." He replied to Mercy on the spot, not realizing that he actually said his name to her finally instead of introducing himself earlier when Mercy did.

"You mean Tension. Tension is the show nobody cares 'bout and I ain't lookin' to have no publicity! Or Pose. 'Specially with this girl who won't stop stalkin' me... Said Clyde as he tried to get all this across to Mercy but the chances of that were most likely not very good. He shot Mercy a dull gaze upon hearing her jabbing instructions about not making a scene. "Weren't you just... Ugh... Nevermind." He was already getting his headache back. The sooner this was done the better.

"Look Fierce." He told himself and turned to Taylor before back at Mercy and the photographer, pulling the brim of his hat down over his face as it sunk in. He felt so out of place right now and didn't know really how to act for a camera. Wrestling for TV in front of a crowd wasn't so bad when all you cared about was keeping your crotch away from some crazy chick who wants to kick you there because there's no DQ. It felt weird to have to force a face and act for a camera that wouldn't stop staring at him, along with the pressure of not trying to fuck anything up while Mercy was there watching them.

Not wanting to be a total screw up and hoping that a job well done would get him out of there, Clyde turned to Taylor out of desperation. "Quick! Be a bitch and a make me mad! ...Or just be yourself..." Muttered Clyde.

Southern douche bags drove Taylor nuts, the way they postured and tried to act manly and thought that was a big deal. She couldn't stand it. Cowboy hats and belt buckles and boots and needlessly huge pickup trucks that had never been used as anything but a commuter, all of it was stupid. She supposed that maybe the tight jeans and belt and hat and stuff could actually look hot on Johnny, if they did it right... Then her mind started to wander.

She didn't appreciate Clyde's remark about Friction, weak though it was. She rolled her eyes. Taylor didn't need any help with the cameras, she was naturally photogenic and at ease in front of them, able to just be herself and command attention with her attitude and her looks. Clyde wasn't so lucky. She decided to make him pay for being an annoying southern douchebag.

"Gotcha covered, hot shot." She said, and stepped behind Clyde. She bent her knees and scooped the little guy up into her arms in a bridal carry. He was pretty heavy for her, but she was nothing if not conditioned and could probably carry him around in a back pack for miles if she had to. Like Yoda. She stood tall with her feet spread apart and gave the camera a wink and a devilish grin.

Mercy groaned at Clyde's correction. All this craziness had maybe her mess up her wording. Something that was forbidden in the courtroom. A slip up like that and any lawyer worth her salt would crack down on Mercy and end her. She clenched her fists and then huffed, crossing her arms under her chest. Clyde was being particularly ornery right now. purposefully so. She reassured herself in her own thoughts.

Still, it seemed like Taylor had the situation covered and when she scooped him up, Mercy smiled. "Ahhh, Ms. Parker! It looks like a little bouncing baby boy, congratulations!" She mused as the camera snapped away. He needs a good smack in his ass anyway, or maybe a boot. She added with a bemused smirk.

"I think..." She said cutely stifling her petite giggle with her hand in front of her mouth. "This is the best you've looked so far. I can't imagine there being any better publicity for ... well, both of you, probably!" Mercy turned her head. I just hope Ms. Sellers doesn't gut me for this. But I knowRally is going to love it. She smiled again.

"Ok, ok!" She said, waving her hand. "How about one actual serious pose. You know, stand face to face with your fists up. I think after that we can finish up." Mercy smiled.

Clyde asked for Taylor to make him mad and it was exactly what he got when he was taken up the punk from behind and lifted up bridal style into her arms. "Huh!?" Clyde let out as he was suddenly lifted up, unable to stop the inevitable snapshot that captured the moment on camera, along with Clyde's exasperated look and deep red cheeks that came with the embarrassment of being carried by Taylor so mockingly while Mercy giggled and played along to make it worse.

"Goddammit, let go of me!!" Clyde hollered out as he pushed away at Taylor and kicked up his feet in a scramble to get himself out of her grasp, pulling his cowboy hat down over his eyes to hide his face, sorely embarrassed, gritting his teeth and clinching his fists at the humiliating display. He should have known better than to show up here, especially if he wasn't getting paid.

He could have complained, but he didn't want to be called out for bitching by Taylor and in front of so many people. That would only make things worse. He growled angrily through his teeth and looked at Taylor before raising tightly fists in a fighting stance with a genuine scowl to initiate the damn pose.

"Hurry up and do it so I can get outta here..." He thought to himself. She had her fun and only made things trickier to fix with Mercy. He was gonna need a drink after this.

Taylor went through the ritual of facing her pretend opponent and forgetting all about the cameras. She locked her deep blue eyes on Clyde and he became the only other person in the room. She cocked her head to the side, her lips curled up into a punky sneer, like she knew he was hers for the taking and daring him to disagree. Her fierce eyes were partly obscured on one side by her bangs, and her posture was upright but loose, cocky, tough and relaxed. It was as if she could kick his ass or forget all about him in a moment, and it made no difference to her.

She lifted her hands, palms in, in a gesture beckoning him in while the photographer snapped his pictures.

"What are you gonna do, huh?" She said quietly, so that only Clyde could hear her. "Let me guess: drink. Be a man, you pussy."

Though Clyde would likely not take it as such, she meant it to be the closest thing she could manage to encouragement. Maybe Clyde wouldn't be so bad for Mercy, but Taylor would never wish that on her. The guy was probably two seconds away from crying about his old girlfriend again. How the fuck was she worth all that? The guy had issues.

Clyde's eyes narrowed at Taylor as she taunted him in front of the cameras. His whitening knuckles, earned from tightly clinched fists would shake with agitation before he let his shoulder lower to let his title slide down his arm, catching it in his hand and lowering to the floor before, grabbing his treasured cowboy hat and dropping it to the floor beside his belt, re-clinching tight fists at his sides as he stood up straight in front of Taylor defiantly, to get right into Taylor's face at a close proximity with sneering a fuming scorn and glaring into her deep blue eyes, huffing out angrily in a hot blooded demeanor contrasting Taylor's loose and relaxed attitude.

He knew he was a Chihuahua in the eyes of a lot of people. Small and harmless. Part of him was. But he couldn't deny that he'd give almost anything to be seen as a Pit Bull. Especially now in front of Taylor. Her cocky, relaxed demeanor felt like an even bigger taunt that went along with her words that dared him to try something.

He felt like he was back in school again. Having to deal with jackasses who thought they could push him around just because he was small, pushing him until he lashed out. But never before had Clyde ever been pushed around like this by anyone his size, or a woman for that matter. Maybe Clyde had some of this coming when he opened his big mouth but Taylor seemed to get a kick out of breaking his balls. He had been putting up with Taylor to try to get on Mercy's good side but there was only so much Clyde could take before he boiled over and forgot she was there when being 'forced' to defend his honor.

Her last couple of words did strike a chord though, but in an odd unexpected way. He would have normally been pissed off that she dare jab his masculinity and call him a pussy. Those were fighting words after all. But they left the cowboy curious. Why was drinking such a big deal and why was he considered unmanly for doing so? It was his life and he wanted to run it his way, regardless of how bad it was supposedly. He didn't know why she held his drinking so low and told him to be a man. What did she know about being a man anyway? What did she even know or care about the kind of person he really was under this trashy exterior? After all, Taylor actually thought he would get physical with Mercy. He would never hurt her or any woman like that.

Taylor on the other hand was a different story. His beef with her had nothing to do with gender.

"The hell does me drinkin' have to do with that? What would you know 'bout bein' a man anyway?" He muttered close to her, not as quiet but only loud enough for people close enough like Mercy and the Photographer to hear.

Taylor stood her ground and held eye contact. She didn't give Clyde an inch, even standing inches from him.

"Drinking's what you do when you don't have the sack to do what you really want." She explained. "If you've got a problem, fuckin' do something about it instead of acting like a little bitch. That must be why Heather kept you around, eh? That chick needs to feel superior to someone." She said, drilling Clyde with every word, pushing him. Testing him.

The photographers could see they were talking, but heard nothing over the commotion from the rest of the room. They snapped picture after picture, happy to get something useable out of the moment.

"That ain't true! You don't know what the hell you talkin' 'bout!" Clyde tried to deny and defend himself out of pride. Her words struck him hard because while some were true others felt like they were anything but and far from the truth. He couldn't even decide if her words regarding Heather were probably true or false, he didn't know anything that was real regarding her anymore. He didn't bother wanting to know.

"I don't even care about her anymore! All I'm tryin' to do is forget about her to try and move on! So if you think using her to bring me down is gon' work again, ya got another thing comin'!" Clyde declared loud enough for everyone to hear now, feeling Taylor was just trying to get under his skin.

"I drink 'cause I wanna! And I'm doin' all I can to bust my ass to get rid of this stupid debt so I can start makin' a real livin' for myself! But don't you talk to me like you know the shit I've been through or what the hell I'm dealin' with! Don't tell me to do something about my problems when I've tried to fix things here TODAY while you just run your mouth about me! Makin' me look like a fool and a scumbag... That I'd hurt Mercy... Stop actin' like you know me and get your facts straight! I ain't actin' like no bitch! I'm tryin' to fix my life!" Clyde hollered back at Taylor.

Mercy watched as the scene began to unfold. At first she encouraged the photographer to take as many pictures as she could while the tense atmosphere was so real. But then it changed and the rest of the party slowly began to focus on the two as well. Mercy watched quietly from her position. He wasn't sure if she should butt in or not. Not for Taylor's sake, of course. She wasn't worried that Clyde might do something. But maybe Taylor would? She doubted that was well. As much as the situation looked like a powder keg, the young paralegal didn't really think it was going to explode. She continued to stare on in slight awe at what might come next.