Life continues to derail me from my writing. I continue to get gentle prods emailed to me, asking me about when the next match will be posted in the Secretarial Pool audition tournament. I have a little time to work on it this weekend, but I don’t know if it will be enough to finish it off. I don’t know how much time you think it takes me write up a match, but it takes considerable time. I’ve also found that it’s crucial that I have some time away from a completed draft, in order to come back with fresh eyes. For your patience, though, I’ll let you know that next up to face off for a shot at greatness will be Sean Sullivan…
and Rafael Verga.
I was first introduced to both of these boys through the nominations process for the tournament. I was excited that both of them made the cut to compete. They’re both already fun to write for. Rafael is a Brazilian sex pot that, one has to imagine, is a little frustrated to draw one of the biggest fitness models in the competition for his first round face-off. Everyone has been hoping to get their hands on doe-eyed Ellis McCreadie, but that privilege has clearly fallen to the last man in the wings, Kerry Degman. Rafael, on the other hand, will face off with the massive muscles and quick temper of full-on side of beef, Sean.
Sean, for his part, has had his eyes set on Nick Auger from the start. Sure, Sean would have liked to break Ellis into several pieces to establish his position in the tournament, but Sean has seen these auditions as marching inevitably to the point of muscle vs. muscle, power vs. power, brute force vs. brute force. Runway models like Rafael typically don’t carry around the muscle of someone like Sean or Nick, so when push comes to shove, Sean is determined to push and shove the little fashion boys to their knees. So the question that the bookies need to ask themselves, is whether Rafael, or any of the other fashion boys, will have the smarts to assemble a strategy that can blunt Sean’s (or Nick’s) dominating power, deflect his testosterone-laden rage, and in turn make a muscle god scream out, “I submit!”