Long Island, New York

The cameras begin recording outside the Ladies Night arena, where hundreds of fans are crowding the back entrance to catch a glimpse of some of their favorite ladies. The theme song “Ladies Night" can be heard blasting from inside the building.

A few familiar faces have begun trickling in and out, including Madison Cox who instantly gets booed and various snacks tossed in her direction. She stops to pose for a selfie with an unwilling patron before shoving him back into the crowd, dismissing the fans with a wave and hair toss as she leaves. 

Sophia begins making her way in and stops to pose for some pictures and sign some autographs. 

Sophia: WEEEEPPPPAAAA LADIES NIGHT!!! Glad you all could make it!!! 

Sophia stops to hold up her Women’s Championship belt for all the awaiting fans to see before draping it over her shoulder. 

A businessman dressed in a suit attempts to reach out to Sophia from the crowd.

Businessman: Sophia! Sophia! We’d love to have you as a spokeswoman for our Child Literacy Campaign!! I’ll be in touch!!! (You can read, right?)

Sophia waves to the man and shoots a thumbs up. She stops to autograph an 8x10 glossy of her for a young fan, signing “To Betsy, with Love. WEEPPPPAAAAAA! Sophia.”

Just before she can give back the photo, a hand comes out of nowhere and slaps it out of her grasp. The young fan cries out “HEY!!” Sophia turns around to find her opponent Kat in her face. 

Kat: Well well well, here we are sugar. Whatcha gonna do bout that? It's finally goin’ down. This time I’m gonna be the one takin that sweet belt home. It's MY NIGHT!! 

Kat picks up the fallen picture and crumples it in Sophia’s and the fan’s face before chucking it in their direction. 

Sophia: Hmm.

Sophia pulls out her cell phone to look at it when she chuckles. She turns the screen toward Kat for her to see an encouraging text from KD.

Sophia: I guess your brotha from anotha motha doesn't feel the same way.

Kat looks at Sophia up and down in disgust.

Kat: He don't know any betta. He can't help hisself when it comes to snow bunnies.

Kat: See ya inside, ‘boo’. 

Kat blows a kiss and shoulder-checks Sophia as she passes her, before disappearing into the building.

	They are ready! We are ready! Welcome to Ladies Night II. The show that was such a big hit last year they had to bring it back.
	OCW has always been ahead of the curve. And boy will we see some curves tonight! Just kidding... Well we will but you know what I mean. We are going to see some great action.

 

Backstage, a cameraman takes a sneak peek through the doorway to Roxy's dressing room, catching a conversation between her and an older man who appears to be a manager of some kind...

Manager: … no, I'm not saying you should back out. Just be careful.

Roxy: I am careful. Sometimes. And it's not like I haven't had my fair share of fights before.

Manager: Not with the kind of person who wears a serial killer mask, you haven't. What if she starts, like, biting your face or something? We can't lose the face! We can't get you on MTV with half a nose.

Roxy: MTV sucks d*ck anyway, John, you know that. Nobody's cared since the literal 19th century.

John: I know... just looking out for the brand.

Roxy: I am the brand!

John: Exactly, and that's why I think this is a bad idea! Say some sick f*ck decides to take advantage and smashes your throat in with a chair, huh? That's your career gone. That's your life. That's everything your band has built. Gone. Because YOU wanted to play childhood hero. You are a guaranteed investment in the music industry. You have a future locked in. In this madhouse nothing is guaranteed. 

John throws his hands up.

John: See! I've been in the music industry, the f*cking crème de la crème of predators and pea counters and soulless husks exploiting dead people for money, for 19 years, and I'm calling THIS place a madhouse! That should be a warning sign, not encouragement.

Roxy sighs.

Roxy: Look, I know you care. And I know what I'm putting on the line. But I've never been someone to give up just because something seems unlikely. Would I be here if I made the safe, logical choices in life? No. I'd still be at that dead-end job, instead of meeting you at a shitty bar singing for last month's rent money. We either take it, or we don't make it. I gotta do this. I have to know if I'm up to it.

John: And if you're not?

Roxy: Queue up the Greatest Hits album, Jonathan.

John laughs a tired laugh.

John: You very well know a collection album is depressing when you only have two EP's. Don't be a Prism.

Roxy: But I love Prism!

John: I know you do, but you want more than one hit, don't you? You know I've got as much riding on this as you do. I hate to admit it, but if you do well... there's a hell of a lot of people in that audience. And they seem to have rather loose wallets...

Roxy: You could stand to be a bit less about the numbers, old man.

She says it like more of a compliment than an insult.

John smiles.

John: That's why I'm good at my job, Missy.

Roxy: I know. Look. I'll try and keep it together. 

John: No guitar smashing?

Roxy: No guitar smashing. Just heads.

John winces and chuckles.

John: If you must... go ahead and “square up,” as they say.

Roxy: Please don't try to use modern slang again. It's not a good look.

John shrugs, and the feed fades to black.

 

The Camera pans to the announce team!

	Well then.
	Our first showcase match is up next.

 

 

Lotus FloJo and Karissa Dawson vs

Cheryl Stixx and Ashley Blain

 

The Camera pans to the announce team!

	What a way to start the show.
	Up the hill we go Randy.

 

The spectre of failure still hung about the decayed, splintered ruins of the once proud “Roadhouse” bar and grill. An establishment that once housed the late night drinking antics of Austin Lee, Sid Harrison, B-17, Jacob Trance, Sophia, and others was a forgotten memory. Now it rested as another abandoned building, those that lived nearby didn’t understand why it had never been completely tore down, graffiti tagged it, drugs flowed through it, and teenagers, well they did what they did. 

Yet, there was one occupant. The former owner, Ashley Blain sitting at the one stool not ruined and weathered with a whiskey swirling in her hand. Her life had once been intertwined with this bar, before the lure of Turmoil management had corrupted her. She had not laid eyes on this place since her release from OCW eight months ago.

Yet, here she was. Returned to the place she once called home. And just down the street was her second home, Turmoil. She had been surprised to receive a phone call last week. They offered a chance to come home. A curtain jerk match to open ladies night, while they called it an opportunity, she knew what it was. She was called to job, to put over the new talent. They wanted to exploit her, like every barbie on the roster and every pretty face that couldn’t wrestle, she was expected to flaunt her ass and seduce the crowd. Maybe once she would have been ‘ok’ with it. “Sex kitten” was what she was called, but OCW was in for a surprise. Ashley Blain was not going to pass up her opportunity. A loss may have left a sour taste in her mouth, but the powers that be had offered her another match. 

Where and when, she asked. They didn’t have an answer, but they said soon. She would be ready. In the meantime, she looked at a bug scuttling out of sight, the “Roadhouse” could use a makeover. 

***

After her match, as Stixx walked along the corridor to the locker room, she couldn’t stop feeling some sort of discomfort. She was undeniably happy with her win that night, but it wasn’t enough. It was a tag match, what means that she couldn’t claim all the glory for herself and that was not how she envisioned to put Flojo where she really belongs.

Having to share the ring with someone she wasn’t familiar with was an odd experience, Cheryl felt that if she is going to fight her way to the top, proving her dominance and showcasing her abilities, she should never have to rely on anyone else again. She should’ve and could have beaten Flojo.

In the shower, still feeling sore from the match, an idea crossed Cheryl’s mind.

Cheryl: Yeah… It might work…

She quietly hummed as she covered herself in a towel with one hand and tried to reach for her phone with the other. Trying to dial with wet hands wasn’t exactly easy, but Cheryl was way too anxious to waste any time.

Cheryl: Hello, I’m going to be brief and I need you to pay attention: I need you here. My hair needs you here. And if you come, I’m sure you’re not going to regret… Shh! Shhhh! I know you miss me, so don’t take long. I’ll send you the address later, bye hoe...

She hung up and quickly dressed to go back to the hotel where everyone was staying. Nothing could cheer her up like dressing up and doing her makeup could, so that’s what she did before left not looking like was going to spend the rest of the night locked in her room.

As soon as Cheryl arrived at the hotel, she thought she should pay a visit to one of the few people who did not treat her badly at OCW, Dennis Black. She crossed the hall, walking with her characteristic confidence, and headed to the receptionist to ask which room Dennis was in. 

Usually a receptionist wouldn’t give this kind of information, especially if it was about someone like Dennis, but Cheryl's attitude was so incisive and imposing that all she had to do to convince her was to tap her long nails on the counter and ask again…

Cheryl: ...his room, please. I’m not inclined to spend my whole night here staring at you.

Receptionist: I'm afraid I have to let him know that you're coming up, ma’am… and I need your name...

Cheryl: Can I just have the room number? I don’t have all night.

Cheryl could almost cut the receptionist only with her gaze as the poor woman hurried to call Dennis's room.

Receptionist: Good evening Mr. Black, sorry to disturb your rest, but there is a ...blonde woman at the front desk saying that she would like to pay you a visit. Do you authorize me to tell her which is your room?

The Receptionist looks Cheryl up and down as she listened to responses on the other end of the call. She sets the phone aside and writes the room number down for Cheryl.

The Camera pans to the announce team!

	Next up we have the sister of the champ against a new face.
	The only champ that matters tonight is the Ortiz we'll see in the Main Event.

 

 

Alexa Hayes vs Roxy Rose

 

The Camera pans to the announce team!

	Good night.
	What an effort.

 

Why in the blue hell was Madison knocking on his hotel room door? Why did she call in the first place? She had a key! Dennis cursed under his breath and tried to go back to sleep in the dark room. It didn’t take long for the Turmoil Champion to fall asleep with his injuries. 

Cheryl tapped on the door and waited for Dennis to answer. But no one stirred inside the hotel room. She knocked on the door again, this time with her fist.

Dennis: Seriously? You’re either trolling or have the wrong room.

Dennis’s voice was being muffled by the door. Cheryl knocked once more and waited, trying to fight the urge to NOT break down the door.

Dennis: No autographs! Go away! Some people are trying to sleep here!

Cheryl: Dennis, it's me, Cheryle…

Cheryl: Cheryl Stixx?

A few seconds later, the door swung open and Dennis stood in the doorway, dressed in a Wrestlution twelve T-shirt with Parker Stevens standing across from Nate Ortiz (Available on OCWShop.com). He squinted down at the woman and pushed his hair from his eyes. 

The cold air from the hallway blew in around him and his teeth started to chatter, but he still continued to look at Cheryl with confusion.

Dennis: ...The pay per view is still going on? Is Madison with you? Cheryl, what are you -

Cheryl: Are you going to let me in or not?

Cheryl held up a basket of flowers addressed to Dennis. Dennis tilted his head, rubbing his arms with his hands. 

Cheryl: My plans got changed. Can I come inside though? It's freezing and I don't need you catching a cold because of me, on top of the head trauma you already have. 

Dennis looked down both ends of the hall before he stepped aside and let Cheryl pass, then swung the door shut behind her. With a pained grown, Dennis hurried over to the bed and crawled beneath the covers, pulling them up to his chin. 

Cheryl looked around the room, trying to find a place to place the flowers. With the flowers still in her hands, Cheryl stood next to the bed with a smile on her face. 

Cheryl: You’re looking better than the last time I saw you. That Jackson guy is an animal. How are you feeling?

Dennis: My head is mush. 

Cheryl sets the basket down at the foot of his bed. 

Cheryl: A bed this big for one person seems like such a waste. 

Dennis: This is sort of a vacation for me. Madison got me my own room since I need my rest. Concussion, and all.

Cheryl: But shouldn’t she be here, Dennis? What happens in the middle of the night and you find yourself in need?

Cheryl sits on the edge of the bed and pats Dennis’s leg. 

Dennis: In need of -

Cheryl: You know...anything. Whatever it is a man finds himself needing in the middle of the night. 

Dennis: I … i’m not sure. I’ve been doing nothing but sleeping. How did your match go?

Cheryl: It was good, but my partner was dead weight. So we didn't win. I blame her. Not my fault at all. But I still want to beat Flojo on my own, you know? Having a tag team can be fun at times, but I prefer to do things one-on-one... Specially being in the position that I am right now, it’s just a more effective way to showcase my talents. Don’t you agree?

Cheryl: But I didn’t come here to talk about my preferences in the ring. I was really worried about you and wanted to make sure that you’re alright. So… if you need anything, I’m at your disposal... All you have to do is ask.

Cheryl glanced at the clock on the wall before looking back to him.

Cheryl: Well, for the next hour or so. I wouldn’t want to impose, being here ‘if’ Madison comes to visit you and all. That could be awkward, no?

 

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