Presidents' Forum tonywrestles2

"Him and me. Right now."

Buzz's chin jutted out pugnaciously, and Scott rolled his eyes. The eight of them sat around a hastily-brought table; actually, six of them sat. Buzz was standing at one end, alternately gesturing angrily at Brian and pounding the table with his fist and Brian was pacing back and forth at the other end, trying to cool his body down. The rest of their frats were in the room, watching; by tradition and regs, they could offer quiet advice to their leader, but not involve themselves in the conversation in any other way.

"Hey, I just finished a match!" Brian protested. "I'm tired!"

Scott looked at Brian like he'd just as soon throw him into the ring with Buzz. "Relax, Brian," he muttered. "You're safe for tonight. Buzz, you know that Brian's right. He just had a match; it's up to him whether he wants to wrestle a second one. If he doesn't, there's nothing you can do about it."

Buzz thought fast--not something he was particularly adept at doing. "Fine," he said quickly. "Let me run around the campus or do some powerlifting. I'll tire myself out as much as you like, Brian, but I want you in that ring before the night's over."

"No way, Buzz," Blake interjected. "You promised Hart a title shot tonight, remember? If you don't keep that promise, I want you stripped of the title."Buzz was an inch away from telling Blake where to shove the title, but Alex grabbed his shoulder. Don't, he pleaded silently. Buzz looked around the table, trying to read the other presidents' expressions, to see how they'd go if it came down to a vote.

Brian and Blake, obviously, were against him, although for different reasons. Scott's face looked like he wanted to side with Buzz, but Buzz knew Scott, and knew tha he'd go with the rules. Garrison, who'd had to be summoned from the locker room and was sitting in his wrestling gear, just looked like he wanted to get this over with so he could get in the ring; he'd go with whatever side was winning. Rick looked like he was on Buzz's side, but John didn't. Surprisingly, a still-wet Damien looked sympathetic.

Five votes to three. Buzz had lost, and he knew it.

"Fine," he growled. "Brian, you want a shot at me so bad, you'll get one. Next week. The rest of you can figure out the bullshit, but whatever else happens, Brian," he locked eyes with the other man, "I'm going to make you my bitch."

Without another word, Buzz shoved his way past the crowd and into the locker room to prepare for his match.....and Brian began to wonder if this had all been a good idea afte all.