The camera pans backstage where there is something happening as the commotion gets louder and louder as the camera pans closer and closer.

We see OCW World Heavyweight Champion Paul Pugh and his FAME colleague Tiberius Octavian Dupree.

The two Hall of Famers taunt as rookie Pep Diaz attempts to make it to the locker room passed two brawny OCW staff members. Pugh and Dupree laugh as his goons constantly knock down young Pep’s gym bag and shove him back.

Pep spews broken Spanish knowing he could lose his dream job if he threw hands right now. Pugh and Dupree ignore the jeers from the onlookers as they converse.

Dupree: Doesn’t he know he’s supposed to lace up in the parking lot where he belongs?

Pugh: Lace up what exactly, he’s not a wrestler, I thought he was just some stage hand you were having a run at.

Dupree: No he’s some useless rookie, you ain’t hear him? Didn’t you wrestle his people in Mexico, you no speak no Espanol?

Pugh: No I speak no rookie, just look at him, fucking pathetic.

Dupree cracks his classic half smile when Pugh grabs the popcorn from someone dumb enough to pay for it. The camera pans down the corridor to show two un-hazed rookies making their way towards the locker room.

Those two rookies being Doc Green and Antonio Everrett of Uncrowned. The two immediately approach the OCW World Champion and Golden Hall of Famer obviously not supportive of the rookie hazing of Pep Diaz.

Everrett: Oi! I’m so sorry to interrupt all the fun boys, but does there seem to be a problem here?

Doc takes a look around at the scene behind Pugh and Dupree, observing Pep still trying to gather his things while muttering to himself in Spanish.

Doc: Huh, didn’t realise new employees got the dirt treatment these days. I don’t suppose you two would’ve had anything to do with it? Because Ant and I didn’t work our arses off to get to the position we’re in to be shoved around by some washed-up, delusional, old men trying to relive their glory days.

The OCW staff take their attention off Pep Diaz and start looking towards the direction of Uncrowned. They slowly move towards the two but Dupree waves them off with the flick of his wrist. Pep Diaz gathers his bag and hurries by the officials towards his locker.

Dupree: Excuse me?! Are you standing on the welcoming mat telling me how to run my damn house?!

Dupree: Kid the reason you have a position to get to in this profession is because of us, you don’t know how hard we worked our “arses” off to get to this point. So run along, this here is grown folk business. 

Everrett: With all due respect mate, I really don’t care about what you’ve achieved in this company, this little god complex you two have going on is complete bollocks.

Everrett: You two love to act like you’re saviours to this company, but let’s be honest lads, you’re both praying that we don’t take your spot.

Pugh: You’re right… but I have an interest in you knowing your place… and your place right now is where I tell you it is… got it?

Doc: How’s about you stick that place of yours where the sun don’t shine, mate. Or get your golden lover over there to do it for you, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.

Doc: As long as we work for this company, we control our own destiny. And if you get us fired, believe me, that won’t be the last you see of us.

Pugh: I don’t want your back talk. Do you understand that I can click my fingers and send you two boys back to your 8 bucks an hour gig at McDonalds- I can shitcan the both of you from here to the Maritimes - neither of you will ever wrestle anywhere again...

Pugh: I mean look at you… you don’t even have shoes. Do you want me to spot you some money for boots? Pay me back if I ever let you make it…

Dupree: A man with no socks is a man with no honor!

Pugh puts his hand into his pocket and dumps a couple of scrunched up hundred dollar bills on the floor in front of The Uncrowned.

After a quick glance, Everrett picks the bills up and aggressively throws them back into Pugh’s face, before squaring up to the world champion.

Everrett: Don’t patronise me, you old prick. Maybe you two will wipe away those ridiculous smirks of yours when we slap you sideways. Who knows, maybe I’ll try and get a nice footprint on your face when I knock your deluded head off.

Dupree quickly interjects, poking Everrett in the chest as he speaks.

Dupree: Who in god’s name do you think your talking to like that?! I have phreaking pairs of socks with longer careers than you both combined. You two apparently need to get taught a serious lesson in respect.

Everrett and Dupree are basically standing nose to nose.

Dupree: Whatever you two plebs had planned for tonight, cancel them. You will face me and YOUR World Heavyweight Champion in a tag match for your phreaking life. That’ll teach you to stick your nose in grown folk business, MATE.

Feeling overly confident and satisfied with themselves Pugh and Dupree strut away. The Uncrowned boys walk back to the parking lot angrily as the small crowd disperses and the camera fades to ringside. 

CORT MARSHALL vs TELOS

The camera pans across the fans sitting at ring-side, waiting for the next segment. The camera seems to hang on this shot for a few seconds too long when the crowd begins to buzz and murmur, all turning to face the ramp.

There is a camera cut, with the camera view facing the empty entrance way. After a few more seconds, the camera pans to the side of the entrance where the One Man Revolution, Bobby Minio is scaling the side of the stage, his Pride Championship title fastened around his waist with a microphone tucked into it against his side.

Once he is on the stage, he brings the microphone up to his face, his voice booming over the PA.

Bobby Minio: Apologies for the uhh, unconventional entrance here, people. I tried to address this situation backstage with a camera, they deny my requests. I try to take action into my own hands and go to the designated area to talk to you all, they shut me down.

Bobby Minio: I go backstage to the come out here and address the OCW fans in the ring, the way I made my own name, but they refused to play my music to let me walk out here to you all, so I said ENOUGH. I grabbed a microphone and I snuck out here to do this once and for all.

He begins to pace along the stage, shaking his head as he speaks into the microphone from the heart.

Bobby Minio: All of this has been orchestrated from behind the scenes. I’m being punished for finally finding success, and ain’t that about a bitch, right?

Bobby Minio: The only thing any opponent I’ve ever stepped in the ring with could throw in my face was the fact that I couldn’t get it done in the big matches, when the stakes were on the line.

Bobby Minio: I finally do that, and they hamstring me. They silence me. The do everything they can to keep me busy and prevent me from coming out here and speaking the same truths that kept me relevant year after year!

The crowd pops at that point, reacting to Minio’s intensity having ramped up on that last line.

Bobby Minio: The fact is, this title? This is great, and I’m proud that I have finally put something to my name here, and I’ll do everything possible to keep it for as long as I possibly can, but this title doesn’t open the doors that THESE PEOPLE can open.

Bobby Minio: It doesn’t hold the weight, it doesn’t hold the sway, it doesn’t hold the power that they get to wield because suckers like Sensation bend over backwards for any clown that waltzes in here off of the Hall of Fame wall.

Bobby Minio: Those of us who put the work in week after week, year after year, we’re second class citizens to them, because the moment these greedy, unrelenting egomaniacs feel like getting off of their high horses to earn a Lution payday, they suddenly show back up, except THIS TIME…

Bobby Minio: This time that jackass gave them the keys to the castle. THIS TIME, that DUMB, MOTHER FUC-

Minio’s mouth completes the profanity but only the sound of the crowd reacting echos through the arena. Minio taps on the microphone, realizing the microphone has been remotely shut off.

He turns around, looking towards the entrance and side to side as the crowd begins to rabble, which leads to booing in the general direction of the upper management.

Minio finally hurls the microphone off to the side, takes a deep breath and then begins to scream into the arena.

Bobby Minio: THIS TIME THAT DUMB MOTHER FU-

Though he was almost audible over the crowd, the PA fires up, blaring Minio’s entrance music at an 11 on the volume dial, drowning out any and all noise that is not the speakers.

Members of the audience begin to cover their ears, attempting to shout complaints over the noise but it is all being crushed by the oppressive volume of Minio’s own music.

Minio paces around, the agitation pouring off of his body language. He’s shouting inaudibly at the various crew members nearby, he’s shouting at a cameraman who is up close, but only the sound of his music transmits over the feed.

Minio finally grabs one of the staff members who was trying to organize the cables behind the cameraman and hucks him off of the stage, the man falling in a heap down on the ground. 

Minio points at the man, shouting what the audience could imagine are threats and obscenities, before angrily shouting into the general ether.

He turn turns, marching through the curtain into the backstage area. The camera holds on this angle for about 15 seconds, the music still blaring, before it finally stops when the coast is deemed clear.

Boos begin to rain down from the rafters, from the stands, from everywhere, booing the tactics, booing the abuse and booing the overall situation. The camera cuts down to the ringside area.

Jim Black catches up to Tyson Wagner backstage following his match with Quartz. 

Jim: Cyborg! Cyborg, wait!

Cyborg, who’s holding his head, begins to laugh as Jim Black looks at him puzzled. Jim cautiously ask Tyson his next question.

Jim: Excuse me, Cyborg you just lost. What’s funny? 

Cyborg tries to catch his breath and he quickly does. His mood changes to the other side of the spectrum as he becomes very serious.

Cyborg: What’s funny is that you think I’m supposed to be bothered that I lost to that Cowboy. Do you know anything about stalking your prey? 

Jim nervously shakes his head no.

Cyborg: Pfft...civilians. Predators biggest joy is the chase. Then when you catch them…..

Tyson catches Jim off guard by grabbing both of his arms. 

There’s an odd pause as they stare at each other for a few moments. 

Tyson let’s him go. Jim looks even more puzzled than he was at the interview.

Cyborg: You see that. I let you go. Now, I’ll watch you leave. Go! Make your next move. Go to another interview. I’ll watch you…..

Cyborg massive size creates an eclipse over Jim Blacks face.

Cyborg: ….and hunt you down like a dog if you ever come close to me without permission again! 

Jim Black runs away as Tyson looks on.

Cyborg: I had you! I could’ve ended you! But I let you go. I let you run away! 

Cyborg: Now I’m coming! 

Cyborg laughs hysterically. Quite possibly his PTSD is kicking in. 

We fade to black….quickly.

KASSIDY HAYES vs TRE GOLDEN

We turn to what looks to be a local New York jail. An officer is seen leading the recently arrested Light Heavyweight Champion Drago Cesar somewhere. The officer leads Drago to a phone. 

Officer: One call. Make it quick.

Drago quickly dials a number. 

Drago: Hello? Hey Johnny, how is everything? Ok…..

Drago throws his free arm up.

Drago: I’m trying! They were stunt cops, how I’m know it was for real??? Anything can happen on Bonanza!

After some chatter coming from the other end, Drago’s mouth is agape. 

Drago: Cell??? You serious??? NO! Sensation losing his mind! I’m need to stop this!

Officer: Thirty seconds.

Drago: Yeah I’m know, but you know what happen to me after last cell right? If she get hurt…..

Officer: You’re done.

The officer takes the phone away from Drago and slams it onto the receiver. 

Drago: You say thirty second!

Officer: I lied. Now get back to your cell.

Moments later….

Drago is sitting alone in his cell, with his face buried in his hands. He looks at the wall next to him, taking a glance at the various markings and crude drawings carved into the wall. Roman numerals are all over the wall as well.

Drago sighs and looks outside his cell to find a surprise; his best friend and the Lord of the Lariat waiting outside of the cell.

Drago: Mugen?

He quickly stands up and leans against the bars.

Bubba appears next to him wearing a bicycle helmet with a camera taped on top of it. 

Mugen faces the camera.

Mugen: Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to another episode of the P3 Bonanza! Our friend Drago is in a bit of a pickle. Luckily, with my knowledge of THE CUBE and other prison colonies around the globe, we are gonna be able to help free Drago tonight. 

He throws his arms up in the air.

Mugen: #FREEDRAGO!!!!!!

Bubba roars while throwing his paws up in the air.

Officer: Keep it down!

Mugen turns toward Drago and whispers to him.

Mugen: Okay old sport. I’ve got a brilliant plan. Watch this. 

He turns toward one of the officers.

Mugen: HEY COP!!!!

Moments later….

Mugen is seen sitting in the jail cell with Drago. Bubba is still outside filming this event. 

Mugen: Isn’t this WONDERFUL?!?!?!?

Drago stares at Mugen in shock.

Drago: …..HOW YOU SUPPOSED TO HELP ME GET OUT BY GETTING YOURSELF IN THE JAIL?!?!?!?

Mugen puts on his thinking emoji face.

Mugen: Because I have to get in jail to do this.

Mugen reaches into his pants and reaches around before pulling out a cube looking item. Mugen taps the cube and starts to glow.

Mugen: Bubba!

A growl is heard on the other side of the wall as we see Bubba placing a glowing cube on his side of the wall.

Mugen holds Drago back as they start backing away from the glowing cube which is starting to glow faster in intensity.

Mugen: Hold on comrade. 

They watch as a hole opens up in the wall where the two cubes were. We see Bubba growling in happiness as he sees Drago and Mugen.

Mugen motions for his friend to go first and escape the jail cell.

Mugen is ready to escape as well as we hear a commotion behind him. The security guards have noticed the problem and try to stop Mugen.

Mugen: Farewell, old sports! See you on the other side!

Mugen waves as he jumps through the portal and takes both of the cubes with him. We watch the wall reform back to normal. A running Mugen continues the Bonanza.

Mugen: What we have learned today……………

Mugen, Drago and Bubba squeeze under a hole created in a fence at the perimeter. The trio continue to run as Mugen continues his speech.

Mugen: Is that, even when life gives you lemons. 

Drago: You make lemonade.

Mugen: Right, but you can also make vodka lemonade.

As Mugen and Drago are running past a wrestling memorabilia store, he sees a Matsuda cardboard cutout and starts seeing red.

Drago: MatSuDaAaAaa

Mugen: NO WAIT THAT’S ACTUALLY A CRIME!

Drago throws himself into the window to go after the cutout.

We cut to Cort Marshall making his way to the lockeroom, still sweating after his loss to Telos. Towel in hand, he wipes his face before casually tossing it onto a bench.

???: Pick that towel up.

A voice interrupts him, and Cort looks up to see its source, leaning on the wall and staring at him.

Pugh: That rag you used to clean up your mediocrity… get it off my bench.

Pugh nods his head towards the towel. The legend’s lined face is full of contempt, but Cort is undeterred.

Cort: I’m not an errand boy.

Pugh: Well son, you sure as shit ain't a wrestler judging by what I just saw. You know, you're a prime example of what we've been cracking down on around here… all talk. No ability.

Cort shrugs, unbothered.

Cort: Yes, yes, heard it all before, the company is dying and only the wrestling gods themselves can save it… I think you need to accept that times change. Let it go! OCW doesn’t need you anymore. You want it to, but it doesn’t. We’re fine.

Cort throws his arms wide sarcastically, while Pugh continues his venomous stare.

Pugh: You can believe it's fine if you want, but trust me when I say I'm the reality check you need. See, I look at you- a guy people are telling me is supposed to be somebody.

Pugh: You're losing in ten minutes to dopes with fake snakeskin jackets. So clearly you're nothing more than a ham-and-egger, and you're going to pick that up or you're going to end up like your redneck cousin Quartz.

Cort: Sorry, Paul. But it’s been years since I’ve taken orders from anyone. And even if I did… they wouldn’t be from you.

Pugh steps off the wall, only one step--not getting in Cort’s face just yet.

Pugh: Do you know who I am? Do you know what I mean to this company? Do you know what I can do to you?

Cort smirks.

Cort: Oh, I know. I know all I need to know. But you forget, you’re not talking to a rookie desperate for a paycheck and a pop. I’m not someone whose entire life is devoted to wrestling.

Cort: I’ve been around the block a couple of times, Paul. I’m 37 years old. I’ve been through shit you wouldn’t believe. I’ve been to war… killed people. Saw friends die, for nothing. And here you are threatening me. I think you should reconsider your position.

Pugh stands still for a second, seeming to cede the point. But anyone who’s been paying attention knows that’s never the case. Instead, he takes another step forward and speaks.

Pugh: I don’t do threats, kid. I do promises. And I promise… you’ve just made a mistake.

He walks off, leaving the patriotic powerhouse to stare daggers at him as he goes.

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