The camera switches to--where else--a vague, unspecified location in the multiversal network of lockerrooms that any OCW arena may contain at a given time.
Cort Marshall and Justin Jehst are going over their gameplan for the coming tag match, while Grimm sits back to them, studying a television showing his loss to the Lost Boys a few shows previous.
Jehst: Hey big guy, still moping over that loss?
Leo: Do not call me ‘big guy’. And I do NOT mope.
Jehst: Whoa there. Fine, “demonic Lou Ferrigno”?.
He cracks a smile, to which Grimm does not respond.
Jehst: We just gotta get you more acquainted with the rules. Like, say, you’re getting beat down pretty hard. What do you do?
Grimm: Take it. Let the rage build. When it is unleashed, the pain wrought upon your enemies will be twofold.
Jehst: … Poetic but not too useful in a fight. Cort?
Cort: Tag out, sneak under the ring, grab a kendo stick, distract the ref with a long story about my aunt, and then clobber the bugger?
Jehst: I should be disgusted, but I should also know better. No! Just… tag out. Wait a bit and when you’re fresh, you’re ready to head back in and keep on fightin’. I know it’s hard not to want to stay in, especially against those two, but trust a veteran of tag competition… teamwork is the one and only key to success. Without it, you’re…
???: Stuck in a lockerroom with Cort Marshall?
The camera pans to show upcoming opponent Tre Golden standing in the doorway. As he speaks, AC Cobra walks in as well.
Tre: I know you’re a good man, Jehst, but I warn you against trusting this hoo-rah slimeball. Take it from me. You think you’re good and then… pop! Baldie loses it.
AC: Seriously, gamer, this guy is the master of ragequits. Angry German Kid has NOTHIN’ on him.
Cort glowers.
Cort: Did you come to fight or did you come to rip pages out of your little sister’s middle school insults playbook?
Tre: I do my fighting in the ring. But what would you know about that, huh?
Cort has had enough and stands toe-to-toe with Tre, who doesn’t flinch. Jehst gets up as well, getting between the two.
Jehst: Whoa, whoa. I know you two have history… but we gotta keep it professional. Kasstianity has eyes and ears everywhere.
Jehst:
We start a wild brawl and you can bet they’ll swarm like wild dogs. You two do what you gotta do in your title match, but tonight’s got nothing on the line.
AC: Nothing but pride.
Tre pats the belt around his waist.
Tre: And that matters a lot to people like us. Plus, we win, CQC’s not gonna be able to ignore us any longer. So Jehst… Cort… better keep going over your moves. I already know all of his.
Tre fakes a punch at Cort, who flinches. Tre smirks and leaves the lockerroom, Cobra following… before he stops and turns around.
AC: Before I forget… Cort, you want a pie?
Cort stares, befuddled.
Cort… what?
He thinks for a moment, before flying into a rage at the thought of the past two times he's been assaulted by mystery baked goods.
Cort: THAT WAS YOU???
Cobra just waves.
AC: Eat healthy, gamer.
The camera fades out on Cort shouting expletives at the exiting A.C. Cobra.
We cut backstage to the halls of the Madison Square Garden’s arena to see Empress on the hunt for Ashley Moore. She grabs a member of the OCW stagehand by the shirt and starts yelling at him.
The staff member looking kind of shaken up from being approached by this tiny Asian woman points over to the women’s restroom.
Empress let’s go of the man’s shirt and storms over to the Restroom. As she enters the room she grabs a mop and a bucket filled with dirty water that was used to clean the floors from by the door.
She peers under the stall doors looking for Ashley’s shoes. Upon spotting Ashley’s feet Empress slides the mop handle between the handles of the stall stopping the door from opening.
Empress starts pounding on the stall door.
Empress: Ashurī o fakku! Tawagoto no kachinonai-bukuro.
Empress: That beating you received on Kassmoil was just the start. You think that Maple Flavored Idiot Dupree being back in charge and making me fight my best friend Valkyrie next week will stop me from making your life a living hell? Well, you’re wrong!
Empress: That blond bimbo, tricking me into signing that stupid no contact clause on Turmoil last week just means I need to get a little more creative when kicking your moon cratered ass for the next few weeks until I can destroy you at The Clash and take my Title!
Ashley Moore: Is this one of your many attacks? Because if so, just do it and get yourself fired. I will gladly take this bullet for the rest of this company.
Empress: It’s just us here, so good luck getting anyone to believe you.
Empress goes into the neighboring stall, Climbs on top of the toilet seat with the bucket of dirty water and dumps it over the wall onto Ashley Moore.
Ashley lets out a blood-curdling scream as the disgusting water soaks her to the bone. Empress jumps off the Toilet and leaves the stall as Ashley continues to scream while banging on the stall door. Empress starts mocking Ashley’s scream.
Empress: Ahh... Ahhh..Ahhhhhh...
Members of the staff come running into the Restroom after hearing the screams to see what's going on. Empress pushes her way past the staff and leaves the Restroom.
The camera fades out as Staff is removing the mop from the door and helping Ashley out of the stall.
THE MAN THEY CALL JOOPITER
vs.
JACKSON MONTGOMERY
Dennis Dillinger swings around in his office. The same building that overlooks the Barclay’s center in Brooklyn. His office phone clicks.
Secretary: Mr. Dillinger, Jett Draven is here to see you.
Dillinger: Yes he is! Yes he is. Send hi-
Before he can finish, Draven swings the door open, closing it behind him.
Dillinger: Come on in, Jett. Make yourself at home.
Draven greets Dillinger with a head nod and stands in the center of the room with his hands in his pockets, as he looked around the office.
Dillinger: So I’m sure you saw the big news on the card next week, eh?
Draven: Yeah, I seen.
Dillinger stands from his desk, grabbing at his lapels.
Dillinger: So whad’ya think?!
Draven: I think it's about damn time! It took em damn near four years to finally make it happen! How you gone have ME on your roster and I'm not holding ANY championship!? I haven't had ANY opportunities!? I should've been champion by now!
Dillinger: Exactly. Since Dillinger Productions acquired your contract almost a year ago, I’ve been waiting and resting on my heels a bit too much. I thought the impact you’ve made so far would have brought in a ton of money.
Dillinger steps over and looks over the Barclay’s Center through his office window.
Dillinger: ...but I guess you’ll have to continue to decimate these amateurs to prove you are the biggest International Icon in the business.
Draven throws his hands out of his pockets and into the air.
Draven: That's what I been doin' since day one! I'm the only one in this match who's beat Archer! The Main Event at 242 should be "Jett Draven vs Thomas Archer III" for the International Championship! You know it, I know it, and they know it! That's your Main Event! That's your headliner!
Draven: You got me stuck with 3 other nobodies!
Dillinger: In good time, my friend. In good time. All it takes is this one opportunity and these so called “businessmen” in the head offices of OCW will have no choice but to comply…
Dillinger: Dillinger Productions presents... Jett Draven, OCW International Champion.
CORT MARSHALL & JUSTIN JEHST
vs.
GOLDEN COBRA
A nurse at a private doctor's office is heading down a hallway with medical supplies.
She pushes a cart filled with bandages, gauze, ointments and many other things. She comes to a door and knocks it first.
She hears her patient talking to someone on the phone.
Nurse: Ms. Angelo, I’m here to patch you up.
Heather looks over towards the nurse and nods her head as she continues her conversation on the phone.
Heather: Hey, hey listen. Remember when we last talked I gave you a plan to think about?
Heather sighs at the response from the other person on the other end of the phone gave her.
Nurse: Ms. Angelo please sit still. I don’t want to hurt you.
Heather covers the phone with her hand.
Heather: My soul has been in flames for many years. These burns compares to a scratch some kid gets when he falls off a bike. It doesn’t hurt one bit.
Heather motions her hand to the nurse to hurry and continue.
Heather: I know the plan is a bit altered. But did you see what Empress did to Ashley in the bathroom? I wouldn’t even have done such a petty thing. Ashley needs redemption immediately!
Heather looks back towards her nurse. She’s unsure to say what she really wants to say in front of her.
The nurse lifts her eyes up to meet with Heather’s. Heather slowly turns away from looking at her.
Heather: Others will seek redemption soon. It’s a marathon, not a sprint; Some immortal words from a friend of mine.. Hope to see you soon.
Heather ends the call on her cellphone and notices a text notification from The OCW Women’s Champion Ashley Moore.
She reads it and as she finishes reading Ashley’s text, she leans over towards a chair to grab her jacket quickly.
The nurse jumps back with the gauze in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other.
Heather: We’re done here.
Nurse: Ms. Angelo, I’m not done patching you up yet.
Heather flings her jacket on with a bit of a grimace on her face.
Heather: I’m sorry. You must be brand new in these parts.
Heather puts on a fake smile.
Heather: Hi! I’m Heather Angelo! And I’m done…
Heather puts back on her beautiful resting bitchface.
Heather: Whenever I say I’m done.
Heather turns away and leaves the room in a hurry leaving the nurse alone in a state of confusion.
Quartz is walking backstage, seeming out of his element. He's staggering, almost bouncing off of the walls, unable to get his balance. An OCW backstage hand tries to offer his support.
???: Hey man, you okay?
Quartz shakes his head before snatching the man and pulling him close to his face, speaking to him in a more up-tempo, higher pitched, raspy voice... Almost like...
Ijitu Quartz: Who are you to grab the future world champion, gah' dammit?!
He pushes the man away and wipes his eyes. Quartz shakes his head for a moment, slowly raises it and looks around, as if nothing had changed. He speaks deep and clear.
Intell Quartz: Hm. It's certainly colder for the body on this side.
After a few more blinks, he begins to stammer again, leaning back on a door. He swings the door open and slams it shut in one fluid motion.
The entire view is black, only illuminating eventually from the sitting Inness Quartz.
He's leaning back on solid darkness. Walking up behind him is Ijitu Quartz himself, signaling that they're once again in the mind. Inness is breathing heavily, trying to keep it together.
Inness: You're not going to take control.
Ijitu scoffs and leans down into view, over the shoulder of Inness.
Ijitu: C'mon, big guy. You know it should be me, am I right?
Ijitu stands back up and points just out of view.
Ijitu: I mean?! Am I right!? This is Kassidy Hayes we're talking about, whatever history you think you have with him just ain't it, bowser.
Intell is revealed as the one Ijitu was pointing at, phasing into existence within the mind.
Inness: You joined in on his cult. You agreed to lead Rustin astray. You'd do it again, too.
Ijitu: Heh. Even NOW you still feel the need to bring up that French carry-on?
Ijitu: You're in the driver's seat now, muscle-head. You're the one after his destiny. You're the one that can hold Isaiah up.
Inness eyes slowly open as the name is spoken.
Ijitu: Pfft. You won't, though. I guess you don't really care about him after all.
Ijitu steps away, phasing out as his voice begins to echo through the mind.
Ijitu: Well I do. Enough not to put your weak ass "morality" and "friendships" in front of that. Keep trying to be everyone's hero and I'll be there to pick up the pieces when you eventually fail.
A pause comes over the mind before Intell follows up, leaning down into Inness face.
Intell: This exhaustion all goes away when you relinquish control. You're in pain. Do not let your stubbornness define all of us.
Intell: If you plan on facing Kassidy Hayes, you better get it together. It could all be out of your hands... Just... Like...
Before Intell snaps his fingers, the light from the door cracking open breaks him out of the Mind and takes him back to reality, where several OCW officials are peering into the maintenance closet he's held himself up in. He stares back at the light and stands to his feet.
He walks past the OCW officials and keeps his head down as he continues down the hall.
