Jimmy Henry's theme music hits as he makes his entrance to the ring. He enters the ring and signals for a mic:
Jimmy: Hi fans, I came down to apologise for how Turmoil ended last week. I let my emotions get the better of me and I let myself down, when I hit Seb Abbott with that chair last week.
Not only did I let myself down, I let you guys down. One thing I've realised since joining the OCW is you have to respect the fans. And so fans, for last week's action I offer the sincerest apology.
I would also like to apologise to Seb Abbott. I know we have a big match at The Clash coming up, but there's no reason we can't be professional about it, and give you fans the match you deserve, rather than some over-hyped bar brawl.
So Seb, if you could come down to the ring, I'm offering to call a truce.
Seb Abbott's music hits, and he makes his way to the ring. He gets in the ring and is staring straight at Jimmy Henry...
Stacy Clark can't help but to feel curious about, Loki McGregor. She had seen him plenty of times over the past few months. She had even said “hi” on a few occasions. She was always treated politely as he would respond with a brief smile and a return “hi”. Still she never noticed him talking with anyone, and he seemed to prefer being alone as his locker was isolated in the corner. There was definitely an air of mystery about him, and, she sheepishly thought to herself, an odd sense of attraction to him. Although he wore face paint, he carried himself in manner of confidence that others often portrayed as arrogance, and his voice. Irish men always had that charming voice. Her determination to learn more about him had led to this interview. She had sent an intern to ask McGregor if he would be willing to speak, “T’be sure” was the response she received. And twenty minutes later she was now standing across from trying to keep herself composed.
McGregor: Tanks for takin’ de time to speak with me, wha is it you want, love?
Clark smiles before speaking: Well we don't really know much about you, you've been here for a a few months but for the most part you've kept quiet, why?
McGregor: All dees boys blather an’ I'd bloody not git involved in de cr’ahp.
Clark: Does that mean you are indifferent to OCW?
McGregor: Waat it means is dare are asses tee keck an’ birds to chase. Ya know? Just life to live.
Clark: But this is your job, are you suggesting that you don't take pride in it?
McGregor: Lassy oi take love in life. Dis is part of me life. Yer don’t spot Loki gettin’ ‘is arse kicked do ya?
Clark: Well that means that you are not making any waves, no impact.
McGregor looks at Clark is a frown: Las, sum fools are too damn fast runin’ up de mountain. You've got tear enjoy de journey. But, jus for you, love. Oi ‘ill go oyt are an’ make yer proud.
McGregor winks at Clark before walking away.
The camera pans to Lindsay Rothschild in her office, she's leaning against her desk on the phone.
LINDSAY: Alright and you made sure Betty Ford didn't get in tonight.
LINDSAY: It'll be fine, its like I told Odessa, without Betty Ford the other "Bombshells" will fall in line. Everything will be fine tonight.
Lindsay sits down at her desk and resumes filling out paperwork, as she does so a cat steps across her desk. Lindsay looks up confused and realizes the office has suddenly been filled with cats.
Several are lounging on the file cabinets across the office, two are stretching down from the edges of her desk and the cat that was just stepping across her paperwork is now sitting on it.
She gets up and shoos the cat off of her desk, as she opens the door to get rid of the cats she's hit by a wall of heat, music, and strobe lighting.
Outside of her office a rave of epic proportions is taking place, staff and rats are grinding together. Lindsay's jaw has dropped, her phone rings again, she answers it.
LINDSAY: Wait, slow down. What do you mean Bertha is assaulting other women?! I know this is a serious situation, but I'm trapped back here, there's some kind of party going on, I'll call you back.
As she hangs up the phone Kat, Molly and Jessica Jessie walk up to her with shit eating grins on their faces. Lindsay face shifts to horror as she turns right back around and barricades herself in the office.
She dials her cell phone one last time and speaks into it.
LINDSAY: Odessa, we have a problem.
With another disappointing finish to an otherwise entertaining match, Dennis Black sits in a chair outside of the male locker room and slowly removes tape from
his wrist. Madison walked right by him and knocked on the locker room door.
Dennis: Looking for someone?
Madison: Dennis Black.
Dennis: You've found him.
Madison: What? Really?
Dennis: ...Yes?
Madison looked the man up and down while he blinked up at her. Both looked confused.
Madison: I just thought you'd look a little different. I'm completely caught off guard here.
Dennis: look different? How different?
Madison: I just thought the leader of the Black Matches Matter movement would be...you know.
Dennis: what?
Madison: Nevermind. But! I'm glad I found you. I'm interested in helping you, in joining the movement. I've heard rumblings that you've had some in ring troubles since your debut. I mean, I've heard there is talent. But you've lost to people you have no business losing to, and I can help with that.
Dennis: You didn’t even know who I was by face, how can you help?
Madison: I'll watch your next match, and we can take it from there. Us newcomers have to stick together. If we don't, no one else is going to look out for us.
Madison was accidentally bumped into by a black haired woman, causing Madison to drop her drink. She turned to glare at Sophia, who had already started apologizing.
Sophia: Sorry! I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. Nervous about my first match. Running late! Let me make it up to you later, okay?
Sophia rushes off before Madison could answer. Madison glares at the woman's back as she ran off before looking back to Dennis.
Madison: Did you see that?! Looking down on me like that.
Dennis: She apologized?
Madison: Wasn’t heartfelt. She looked right through me...so arrogant. I bet she treats all the females that way.
Madison folds her arms.
Madison: I'll meet you at the next Turmoil show, Mr. Black. I need to spread the word about our arrogant friend.
Scene cuts to commercial.
The scene opens within what appears to be Daryl Bradley's office. An old fashioned wireless radio plays some music that, let's be honest, you've probably never heard of as the man in question sits upright, hands folded in his lap, eyes closed and an appreciative smile across his face. The door swings open announced causing him to jolt awake just as B-17 enters. His ribs are taped up, his movements are gingerly.
B-17: What was that all about?
Bradley: Whatever so you mean my dear boy?
Bradley plays with his mustache.
B-17: Last week, between not being paid and those two men ambushing me. What... Happened?
Bradley pauses to prepare his answer.
Bradley: Oh yes, that. I am ever so glad you're here actually, I was planning to discuss that with you. In regards to the assault I'm afraid I've been left with no choice but to take immediate action.
B-17: So... Those two will get what they deserve?
Bradley: Of course, of course. Compensation payments will be made out...
Before Bradley can finish B-17 smashes his fist into the desk, causing a porcelain sheep to fall over. He grimaces in pain, clutching his chest as he takes a deep breath to steady himself.
B-17: Money? You think this is about money Bradley? I want them in the ring... Tonight!
Bradley clears his throat after righting the porcelain sheep.
Bradley: Made out to both individuals involved in your heinous attack on their health. They were over excited members of the audience, you should not have attempted to savage them with your torso like a wild animal.
B-17 shakes his head in disbelief before attempting to make his case.
Bradley: Ah, no. No more talking, else I will suspend you indefinitely for insubordination. Leave, go.
B-17 chokes down his anger.
B-17: I'll deal with it myself...
Bradley: I'm afraid I can't let you do that, you're rather obviously injured and to let you compete... Well... That would make this company liable for your physical wellbeing and we can't afford that...
As the man leaves Bradley shouts a parting message.
Bradley: This was the action advised by the Disciplinary Task Force! I'm sorry but it's nothing personal! And whilst you can hear me let that meat stick Tank know he has been fined for repetitive swearing, also handed out by the DTF... Toodles!
The door slams and Bradley leans back in his chair, going back to listening to his music.
The cameras start rolling facing the gold handle on a oak wood door. The camera moves up to reveal the tag on the door stating "Duayne Hobbs, Vice President, Head Agent". As the camera zooms out a young busty blond secretary walks into the room with a large basket full of flowers and fruit. We follow her into the room where we see the Head Agent of C4 Sports Agency, Duayne Hobbs at his desk.
Secretary: You wanted me to bring you one of these?
Duayne Hobbs: Yeah, if you could just place that at the other end of this desk, I'll take care of a few personalizations for this gift basket. I'll buzz you when I need you.
The secretary nods and walks out of the room. Duayne takes a good look at the basket thinking about his next move.
Duayne: Hm.....I know what this basket needs.
Duayne goes towards the basket and rips some of the flowers out of the arrangement. He tosses them into the trash and goes into a cabinet to the left of his large desk. He opens the cabinet, revealing its contents as numerous bottles of liquor, some open and some unopened. He takes a moment to look at what is in there and picks out something from the second to last shelf. The label reads Macallan 25. Duayne walks back to his desk and plops the bottle inside the basket next to the remaining flowers and fruit.
Duayne: This needs something else....
Duayne takes out a piece of paper bearing the C4 Sports Agency letter head and begins to write a small note:
"B-17, just to let you know kid. I have the means to provide you with help. Anything you need, let me know kid. -DH"
Duayne: Short and simple. He will know what to do.
Duayne hits the a button on his phone and buzzes for the busty blond secretary to come back into his office and pick up the basket. The scene fades out.
After Jackson's match ends, Tank can be seen on the Xtron. He is grinning and once again in a parking lot. He snaps his fingers a few times, trying to grab Jackson's attention, obviously mocking the way Jackson tried to catch his last week.
Tank: Hey Jackson, hey buddy, up here. I wanted you to see this, cause we're out here on a lovely night and I decided that a night like this is a night anyone would love to go camping on. So I haven't set up the tent yet, but it's kinda brisk... Figured I'll start a campfire first.
The man walked over to a small can of gasoline and then a few more steps to his left to reveal Jackson's motorcycle.
Tank: Oh look at this! Kindling! Damn! It's such a nice place for a fire too!
The man said laughing, opening up the can of gas, pouring it all over Jackson' bike. Jackson climbs on the second rope facing the Xtron and begins to yell obscenities, the OCW officials quick with the censor button. Tank throws the can next to the bike and takes out some wooden matches. He looks back to the camera as he strikes the match.
Tank: Remember kids, only you can prevent forest fires.
Tank laughs out again before tossing the match on the gas soaked motorcycle, the bike bursting into flames as Tank stands there laughing. He walks off screen and comes back with metal sticks and a bag of marshmallows. He opens them up and places a few on the sticks before holding the marshmallows over the fire. Jackson has now jumped out of the ring and is halfway up the ramp SCREAMING at the top of his lungs like Tank might be able to hear him.
Tank: Woo! Would ya look at the baby burn! It makes me hungry! Good thing I have these marshmallows huh Jackson? Aww don't be mad, I brought enough for ya, why not come and join me by the fire Jackson? Afraid of getting a little crispy?
Tank's laughter filled the arena, the man throwing the stick of marshmallows onto the burning motorcycle and walking away from the fire and into his car, driving off quickly from the arena. Jackson tears up the ramp and through the curtain to the back in hopes to salvage his beloved.
Scene opens as Morrison is sitting near his locker, getting ready for his semi finals match with kassady as Austin Lee comes walking in sipping on his drink with kassie Jacobs following behind him.