The cameras move in on Tank and Bradley sitting at the GM's desk. The appear to be talking, though Bradley does wave Tank to come behind the desk. They seem to be looking over something on the computer. It's then when the cameras are close enough to hear what they are saying.
Bradley: What do you think about him?
Tank: Too drunk.
Bradley: Him?
Tank: Those stains on his shirt make him smell like shit. I don't wanna deal with that fat f**k.
Bradley: Language!!! Okay... How about him?
Tank thinks for a minute and grins a bit with a nod.
Tank: Yea... Him...
Bradley: But how do you suggest going forward? He's not your biggest fan.
Tank: No... but he's hungry.. Give him something to eat and I'm sure he'll see it our way.
Tank moves from behind the desk and moves to head out of the office.
Bradley: Where are you going? We have another choice to make!
Tank: Yea we'll get there.. But I shouldn't be here while you're politicking. Especially if it's him.
Tank reaches into his jacket and takes out his smokes, he puts one in his mouth and walks out, leaving Bradley in his chair. Without hesitation, he picks up the phone and begins dialing.
As the music dies down, the boos in the arena increase in volume as Bray S. Spur stands in the ring with a scowl on his face. He looks around the arena in disgust and anger as the crowd begins a soft “Asshole” chant.
Bray S. Spur: Yea go ahead, start your chants. You think I give a damn! START CHANTING! COME ON! I DON’T GIVE A F-
Bray removes the microphone from his mouth before uttering the last word. Like he said, the crowd continues to engage in a now ear deafening “Asshole” chant.
Crowd: ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE!
Bray S. Spur: You know what? You’re right, I am an asshole. I’m an asshole! I’m an asshole because I waste my time trying to appeal to you. I’m an asshole because I waste my time trying to prove myself to you! I’m an asshole because...
After seconds of ranting and raving, Bray S. Spur stops himself. He lowers the microphone and looks down on the ring. At this point, the “Asshole” chants have died down and the crowd is sitting in ominous silence. An occasional scream can be heard here and there. After standing frozen for what seems like a minute, Bray exits the ring and grabs a chair. He returns to the ring, unfolds it, and sits down.
Bray S. Spur: [chuckling] Matter of fact, I don’t know why I waste my time talking to you hacks when I have something I need to get off my shoulder. [taking a breath] Last week, our idiot lard ass of a champion Tank was stripped of the Turmoil Championship.
The crowd cheers at hearing this, knowing finally that the reign of Tank has come to an end. Bray S. Spur smirks at this.
Bray S. Spur: Ever since the vacancy of the Turmoil World Heavyweight Championship, or whatever it’s called, I saw this as a chance to finally get what’s coming to me. I saw this as a chance to finally get my just deserts. To finally achieve my goal of being Turmoil Champion! But, alas, what did I see?....
I see I’m NOT IN THE MAIN EVENT!
The crowd cheers loudly, quickly angering the superstar. He holds back a jerk and continues to speak.
Bray S. Spur: Who in the hell runs this damn place? Who do they think I am? I’m not a mid-card crisis parasite like Dennis Black. Who in the hell is he? I’ll tell you what he’s not!... He’s not the Broken Spirit of OCW. He’s not undefeated in OCW. That’s right! 3-0 bitches, get used to it! Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth right now!?
The boos in the arena take over as Bray S. Spur crosses his leg with a firm frown on his face.
Bray S. Spur: That’s right. I said it! I am BETTER than Dennis Black. You heard it here first!
The arena erupts into a mixed reaction as the dynamic duo walk from the stage to the top of the ramp. With a mic in hand, Dennis frowned in Bray’s direction. Behind him, Madison was holding on the title with both arms for dear life. Dennis paced back and forth as the mic was lifted to his lips.
Dennis: We were fans of yours until about two minutes ago, just wanted to start with that.
The crowd jeered.
Dennis: I find myself in a similar position, Bray. Though not undefeated, I think I've done pretty well for myself. I've got the two prettiest things in OCW right behind me. But here I am, feeling rather insulted…
Madison looks over her shoulder as an intern approaches her from behind, crouched so they wouldn't be seen on camera. They whisper to get her attention while Dennis continues speaking. The intern handed Madison a cell phone.
Dennis: Not only insulted, but overlooked. Not only was I not considered for the interim Turmoil Championship, but I'm to believe that four others are more deserving of a chance to at least compete for it? Granted...one is a former champion and a Hall of Famer, but still!
Madison looked rather upset after news was delivered and she dismissed the OCW intern. She returned her attention to Dennis’s rant.
Dennis: I've lost count at how many times opportunities are thrown in the same direction, and I haven’t even been here that long. I feel bad for myself, these people, hell...even you, Bray. A man unblemished certainly deserves to be in tonight’s contendership match. I completely agree that you or I is probably more deserving than one or two of the men in tonight’s main event. But…
Dennis: You too, have disrespected me while overlooking something crucial.
Dennis pointed to Bray while Madison raised the title high above her head with both hands. The fans began to cheer. For what, they did not know.
Dennis: I'm box office, Bray! I am a Diamond in the rough that is Turmoil. This match isn't some consolation prize for you. You are facing the best damn performer on Turmoil, who just so happens to hold the most important title on Turmoil. Every time i walk through that curtain i intend to put on a spectacle, and tonight, ‘we’ are the main event. Come prepared to wrestle like it is.
Dennis turns and walks toward the curtain, Madison following closely behind.
Corey was back at Terminal 5, he looked around when a guy with a clipboard approached.
GwaC: Hello and welcome to Terminal 5, how can I help you?
Corey: Hey buddy, I came by a few weeks ago and applied to become a wrestler. Just wondering if I could do a try out or something next week?
GwaC: Ah it's not up to me to decide that. You'll need to speak with our management.
Corey: Where can I find them?
The guy pointed to a door that said Daryl Bradley in cursive. Corey walked over to it and knocked.
???: Come in.
Corey entered and saw a nicely carved desk a high backed chair was situated behind it, turned the opposite way.
Corey: I take it you're Mr. Bradley?
The chair spun around and in it was a well dressed gentleman, the man put his phone down then looked up at Corey.
Bradley: Of course I am, look at my deliciously glorious moustache! You'll not find a single one like it in all of the world. Freddie Mercury recently said from beyond the grave that mines is the greatest of moustaches.
Corey looked taken aback but reeled in his shock and nerves before speaking.
Corey: Oh ah it's a fine moustache indeed. I was wondering if you had seen my application to wrestle for your compa-
Bradley: I have a suit like that, you obviously have good taste... So what is it that you require?
Corey: All I want is a try out, what happens after is up to you. Also if you don't like my look I can change it up.
Bradley: A try out... There is a spot on 116 actually, I will see what I can do.
Corey: Oh wow, thank you sir. I'll try not to let you down.
Bradley waved Corey away and the young man walked away, pulling out his phone and dialling his nan.
Corey: Nan! It's me Corey. Hello? No I'm not a telemarketer from Delhi. It's your grandson. For the love of Christ, I'll call you back later nan.
Hanging up Corey looked downtrodden, wine induced dementia had set in early it seemed. He perked up however when he remembered he had a tryout next week.
Corey mused aloud: Now do I go as plain Corey or HardCorey?
As he walked to the parking lot the scene fades.
Axton Bravo was loud. Benching 400 was no easy task and he let the weight room know it by yelling loudly as he moved the bar no more than five inches down and back up again. When he had finished with his 10 inch lift he jumped up screaming loudly.
Axton: Yeah, baby!
Axton: Give me skin, bro. A passing by male obliged with a bemused look on his face. A passing by female was not spared by his jubilation either: Hey, baby, you like? She continued walking past.
Feeling a tap on his shoulder Axton turned around.
Loki: Does the loud man not realize he is annoying?
Axton: Hey, Leprechaun! Who you talking about? Axton looks around confused: You mean that bald dude over there?
Loki’s eyes get wide: Oi! Punta! That be me girl!
Axton: Oh, bro. My bad!
Stacy Clark hearing the commotion comes over.
Clark: Mr. Bravo….I owe you an interview.
Axton: Do….you like work here?
Stacy looks at him with disdain: Why yes I do, perhaps you should get to know the people you work with.
Axton: Oh what! I do! Like Link here. Axton motions at Loki who looks as if he might strangle Bravo: Yeah, last week I was mad about him crashing my car, but then I remembered how short he is. Obviously he couldn't see over the steering wheel. My bad. Sorry, Lincoln.
Clark: You mean Loki.
Axton: Who?
Loki: Me, yer over compensatin', muscle noggin.
Axton: Oh dude. I’m really sorry. Like totally foot in mouth. How about we just shake and start over.
Stacy Clark extends her hand: I’m Stacy Clark, interviewer here at OCW. Loki extends his hand: A man’s name is Loki McGregor.
Axton: Cool. My name is Bravo...Axton Bravo, baby!
Loki looks at Stacy and shakes his head. Both walk away.
Axton: See you later, bro and brosietta.
Turmoil Tag Match
The camera fading back into the underground layer of the #Marvelous/Classy Duo of #Austin Lee and Sid Harrison, the underground layer looking almost identical to the boiler room from last week except from what appears to be a hover board charging station.
Sid Harrison walking around the locker room in his fluffy bathrobe which appears to be even shorter then his short shorts on riot, which we are all thankfully as he seems to be wearing them underneath. The door to the underground layer, not the boiler room, opens as Austin comes rolling in on his hoverboar
#Austin Lee: #Dear lord why are you wearing Kassie robe?
Sid Harrison: You are just jealous you don’t have the legs to pull this off, wait where has she been at?
#Austin Lee: Something about training for a secret underground #Kumate…No idea what that means tho.
#Austin riding his hoverboard over to his charger and hooking it up before making his way over to Sid and greeting him with a fist bump, which turns into at least 30 seconds of a secret hand shake and ending with them both hitting imaginary jump shots telling Kobe…..
Sid Harrison: I actually been curious what her job is actually, other then keeping you under control after Riot.
#Austin Lee: Ha, #Please….. Plus you can’t blame me for Riot how was I suppose to know I was already on probation for the fluffy comment…
Sid Harrison: #Really you didn’t see that coming? How did sensitivity training go?
#Austin Lee: I mean sure it may have been wrong for me to hire someone who looked exactly like Xander Rane just a lot bigger and try to fight him. I thought they would have enjoyed me trying to reach out to his “community ” as he is the first official openly “different but still normal” wrestler….
Sid walks to the other side of the underground layer to change for his match as #Austin continues..
#Austin Lee: But no I find out after they didn’t air my part because I was to offensive which is why I had to graduate sensitivity training but yet still on double secret probation.
Sid Harrison returns just wearing a kilt.
Sid Harrison: Well if it makes you feel better I think you finally pushed Rane over the edge…
#Austin Lee: #I am not even going to ask where you got that or why….
Sid Harrison: #Distraction Kilt Activate…..
#Austin Lee: You ready for your match with Jimmy I am guessing?
Sid Harrison: #The real question is he ready for all of this…
Sid begins to show off his dance move rotating his hips and thrusting the air..
#Austin Lee: On that note I am gone…. Going to see about finding something to do till my double secret probation is over. Maybe there is a card game I can jump into #M-16…..
Sid Harrison: Stay Classy my friend.
Austin heads for the door as Sid continues his dance moves as the screen fades to black.
The scene opens and Jimmy Henry is sitting in Daryl Bradley's office, as the Rush TV chief executive sits at his desk explaining himself to Jimmy...
Bradley: So you see Jimmy, it was all a big misunderstanding. I'm man enough to admit I made a mistake, and may have underestimated the lack of taste of the Turmoil fans. So, I have released the fake Jimmy from his contract, along with the employee who thought it was a good idea in the first place. Thankfully, that is the last any of us will have to hear of either of those guys.
Jimmy: Wasn't it your idea, in the first place, to replace me?
Bradley: Maybe, who really remembers... Anyway, all that was before I saw the ratings. Your little showpiece at the end of last week has helped boost our weekly ratings through the roof. This stupid show was more popular than Riot last week.
Jimmy smirks at that info.
Bradley: So I've decided to just give these idiots more of what they like. You. B-17. The alcoholic soldier guy. Tank. Black matches. Scantily-clad, top-heavy female wrestlers. Fat, washed-up legends in the same match. Hey, some wrestling companies have built multi-million dollar businesses using only fat, washed-up legends and busty female wrestlers.
Jimmy rolls his eyes, he has a feeling Bradley has an ulterior motive for inviting him into his office.
Jimmy: So why am I here? What do you want?
Bradley: No need to be so blunt James, can I call you James? Look, I know we've had our differences in the past, but it turns out you are good profit for this company, so I want to do what I can to keep you happy. In fact, while we sort out this whole Tank mess, I'm making you interim champ.
Jimmy: Gee, I don't know what to say. Thanks? I mean, I'm chuffed, but I'd rather have earned it fairly.
Jimmy feels more awkward than privileged. It feels sort of wrong.
Bradley: Don't worry about that, you'll earn it next week when you have to defend it against the winner of tonight's main event.
Jimmy: Oh, ok...
Bradley: But this week, I'll give you a chance to settle an old score. You'll be fighting Sid Harrison, the guy who beat you in your first match.
Jimmy: What the janitor guy?...
Bradley: Yeah, the guy that dresses differently for every match. Anyway, don't you worry too much about that. You've got a chance to prove you are worth the Turmoil title next week and you no longer need to worry about any imposters copying your look or your style. All in all, things are going good for you kid, don't let me down.
Jimmy: Sure, whatever, boss.
The bemused Jimmy Henry gets up and shows himself out of the office.
Pain vs. Bellatrix vs. Jayden
The camera fades in and Joe Zhivago is loitering suspiciously outside the ladies locker room. He is holding a lidded, plastic tub under his arm. Out of nowhere Bill Ding arrives, heedlessly, playing air guitar and humming an old rock classic.
Joe quickly raises a finger to his lips to quiet Bill.
Joe: Shhhhhhh! I'm trying not to draw any attention to myself.
Bill Ding stops humming midway through a guitar solo.
Bill responds loudly: Hi there! How's it hanging brother?
Joe Zhivago motions for Bill to come closer and Bill grudgingly does so.
Joe: Keep it down would you! Hey, you have as much reason to hate Madison Cox as I do, so maybe you can help me.
Bill Ding looks at the sign that reads “Ladies Locker Room” and becomes suspicious.
Joe looks around to make sure the coast is clear, before taking the plastic tub from under his arm and lifting the lid to reveal it's contents.
Bill peers inside: Fish…? No thanks, Joe, I'm on my way to the buffet anyway, baby!
Joe sighs: No, the fish is for Madison. I'm going to hide it in her locker and everyone's going to blame her for the stink.
Joe smiles wickedly at his plan. Bill Ding laughs loudly before remembering to be quiet and winces at himself.
Bill: I like your style, Joe - that'll sure teach her. How can I help?
Joe: I need you to keep watch: try and stop anyone coming in here, let me know if anyone's going to…
Before Bill gets a chance to agree, Joe slips through the door. Bill looks around and assumes his guard position.
In the same moment, we see a tall middle-aged man, with long grey hair in a ponytail walk down the corridor, he stops when he sees Bill and takes a step closer.
Middle aged man: Excuse me. I'm looking for a guy who works here, his name's Joe Zhivago. Do you know where I can find him?
Bill begins to sweat, thinking he and Joe are about to be caught.
Bill: I uh, no, I don't know Joe… I mean I certainly don't know where he is!
The very tall man looks doubtfully at Bill Ding and raises an eyebrow.
Middle-aged man: Well, if you do see him - tell him Johnny’s looking for him.
The man stalks off down the corridor without giving Bill a chance to respond, just as Joe emerges from the locker room, with a disappointed look on his face
Joe: Damn, these lockers are impossible to break into...
Bill: But my man did it, right?
Joe looks solemnly at Bill and shows him the tub, still full of fish. Bill Ding laughs loudly.
Bill: Can't win em all, brother! Now, let's go get some sandwiches.
Joe's stomach growls loudly and he frowns at himself. He nods in agreement at Bill and the two make their way to the catering table. The camera fades…
The scene opens with Stacy looking awfully confused. She's outside arena with her back to the vandalized vehicle, she slowly shakes her head before the feed goes live.
Stacy: We’re live outside of the arena where an...attack of sorts has taken place.
She steps to the side, allowing the camera to zoom in on the ruined paint job.
B-17 could sense the tension between he and Jackson Montgomery. As an ominous threat it continued to stifle and conversation that could arise between the two. Since they had sat down to their traditional game of card only a few words had been spoken. Since their graduation the table stakes had become higher and in turn the friendly banter had all but evaporated in the simmering anger that bubbled just below the surface of both men.
Picking up to deal, B-17 found has hands sweating and noticed the tense arms of Jackson. Both men were ready to strike down the untrustworthy friend that sat before them. Before the game had begun Jackson had opened a Coors, but it sat neglected on the table. It seemed that Jackson had found his sobriety...in the growing distrust of B-17.
B-17 dealt the cards and quickly checked his hand. 3SJH. Nothing to work with. B-17 watched closely as Jackson checked his and noticed his face soften slightly. Devoid of conversation B-17 was able to notice many more of Jackson's many tells. Even playing straight up to avoid confrontation, he knew he could still outplay Jackson in this hand, but his emotions were also compromised and the rules were never bring emotions to the table.
B-17: 25. With that he pushes a few chips into the middle.
Jackson peers over his cards at B-17: Call.
B-17 deals up the flop. 5C10H8D. B-17 watches Jackson with care. Jackson finally takes a drink.
Before either man can say anything the door swings open and Mr. Marvelous himself comes strutting in.
Austin Lee: #Dealmein.
B-17 laughs and stands up to welcome Lee: What's up M-16?
Lee: Oh...not too much. Just heard there was a poker game and I couldn't help but think I can use a bit more spending cash to keep me looking #splendid. Plus my eyes needed a break from Sid in that hot tub.
Jackson is off put by this encounter. He growls at Lee: What the hell you doing here?
Lee: Did he just growl at me? #WhatTheProblemBe
Jackson: You don't belong here!
B-17: Chill, Jackson.
Jackson glares at B-17: After all the sh*t thrown at us from Riot members and staff, you’re just going to let this #ASSHOLE wander onto OUR show and interrupt OUR game? Pull your head out of your ass B!
The jubilation B-17 had felt when Austin arrived quickly was chilled into an icy rage: 75. He pushes his chips into the pot while Austin begins to sing “Kenny Rogers - You gotta know when to fold em.
Jackson: I call! I know you’ve got nothing! Burn and turn Bingo!
B-17 obliges Jack and shows the turn. 9H. B-17 Contemplates his next move. He is on a draw and he feels Jack has a made hand, but if he check he will be pushed out. If he doesn't bet enough, Jackson will come over the top. No. He needs to bet just enough for Jackson to stay in it: 125.
Jackson: I call!
The river brings B-17 only some good news. JS. A pair.
Jackson smiles at him. B-17 is committed to the pot now. He played this hand stupidly. Now he has no choice, he can check and admit defeat or he can try and push Jack off his hand.
B-17: I'm all in.
Jackson looks up paranoid: You piece of shit, you caught your straight didn't you! You’re always trying to one up me! You can't keep me in the shadows anymore! I don’t follow B. I either lead or we walk side by side. I can’t be just “B-17’s drunk buddy” anymore! His shouts are defening. B-17 stays calm, wondering if this will be another storm that blows over, suddenly Jackson leaps over the table and grabs Lee by his mustache: You should have stayed on Riot! None of this would have happened had you stayed put!
B-17 jumps up and punches Jackson in the face. Jackson stumbles away but then rushes B-17 in a rage, howling like a madman: You son of a bitch! Judas! You’ve turned your back on me B. You never really cared about Hodges getting me help did you? You only used me to get what you really wanted.
Jackson makes a move toward B-17, but B-17 steps aside and keeps the table between the two of them. Jackson glares one last time at B-17 while Austin adjust his mustache taking a deep breathe. Jackson finally leaves, breaking the door down in the process.
Jackson Montgomery: I don’t need this crap. Let’s go D.
Jackson points to an empty chair and motions with his arm to come along.
B-17: It's your fault you didn't go to the meetings!
Austin and B-17 are left alone. Austin is using his using his phone as a mirror to make sure his mustache is still marvelous as B-17 takes a seat back at the table. A cold voice sounds out from the doorway.
$Irving$: Seems like someone finally figured out his place around here….
The deranged $Irving$ starts laughing and walks away in the same direction as Jacksons. They can hear his laughs echoing off the wall.
The laughs causing Jackson to turn around as he thinks they are coming from B-17 and Austin Lee.
Jackson Montgomery: Oh they think this is a game?
Jackson looking over at Davie then begins back down the hallway towards B-17 locker room. The cold voice of $Irving$ stopping Jackson in mid stride.
$Irving$: What you going to tuck tail and run back to your meal ticket….. oh wait sorry your alcohol ticket already? Maybe if you apologize to him he will continue to make you relevant.
Jackson becoming annoyed by the mention of apologizing to B-17 after the events that just happen prior. His eyes widen as he squares up to $Irving$ standing face to face with him as neither man blinks.
$Irving$: What did I touch on a sensitive subject for you? You going to dive back into a bottle before your big chance to prove you actually are more then him if you win tonight.
Jackson Montgomery: He has always been the one holding me back, tell him Davie…
$Irving$: Don't bring him up in my presence. When you speak to me boy you address me and only me not your so called friend who probably isn't here because of your drunk ass.
Jackson becoming enraged as soon as $Irving$ mentions Davies name. Jackson reaching up to shove $Irving$ away from him but $Irving$ quickly slaps Jackson hands away before he is able to touch him.
$Irving$: Boy you must be out of your damn mind if you are going to put your hands on me. Try that again and you won't make it to your match tonight to prove to the world you are nothing more then just the drunk old fool who hangs around everyone's favorite B-17.
$Irving$ begins to shake his head as he looks at Jackson as a smile creeps across his face. Stepping to the side of Jackson as he makes his way down the hallway leaving Jackson alone.
$Irving$: Good luck tonight Jackson I will be watching, don't let your family down the same way you let Davie and his family down. ..
Bill Ding vs. Axton Bravo
Scene opens with the cameras in the Women's dressing area, where some of the ladies are prepping for their matches or watching the others on the monitor. Lara Kinsel is having her lederhosen tended to by the seamstress. The Webb sisters Jayde and Jayden can be seen seated next to each other texting away on their phones, probably to each other. Madison, per usual, is absorbed by her image in the mirror, making sure every feature is just so. Sophia is seen on the phone, looking very confused, and heavily engaged in a conversation on the other line with a seemingly very persistent party.
Sophia: Music video? ... "Who" what?... What 'about' my momma??
The other ladies are talking amongst themselves about the "Queen of Turmoil" bracket.
Suddenly there is a loud knock at the door, but before anyone can respond, the door opens quickly and the person walks in.
Sophia: Hey!!
Wanda: What the -
Ms. Starks, a bit surprised, puts her hands up in front of her in an effort to calm the startled ladies.
Brenda Starks: Relax, it's just me.
Madison, startled and already on edge due to recent events, replies in her usual snippy manner-
Madison: Jeez, rude! Ya mind knocking next time?
Sophia shakes her head and puts her phone down. She then chimes in after giving Madison a glare.
Sophia: Sorry... You caught us off guard. Just last week that drunkard Jackson Montgomery just came stumbling into my dressing room! We try to keep the doors locked now...
Madison: Better you than me.
Madison scoffs.
Brenda Starks: Enough with the arguing, ladies. I just wanted to come in here and let you all know how much I appreciate your efforts in being part of building this Women’s division. This "Queen of Turmoil" tournament could be a pivotal moment in our brand's history. Only one woman will be getting that briefcase... And I expect to see the utmost best efforts put forth by all of you. My vision- our vision- is to show the world what we can bring to the table.
Madison teases her hair with her fingers and blots her lipstick while checking herself out in the mirror, looking quite sure of herself.
Madison: Why don't we just cut to the chase. Yes Brenda, of course I will be the leader of the ladies locker room… show these wannabes what it means to be a calculated maiden of the mat such as myself.
The Webb sisters Jayden and Jayde glance at each other knowingly and burst out in snickers.
Madison shoots them a dagger look through the mirror as she fixes her makeup.
Madison: "Did I say something funny, creeps?"
Jayde, still engaged in laughter, looks to her sister and then to Madison, soon finding a way to speak in between chuckles.
Jayde Webb: Yea... maiden of the mat alright. The mattresses of half of the male roster.
Madison spins around and walks quickly toward Jayde, who in response hops up from her seat.
Madison: What was that, blue haired smurfette??
The two ladies are face to face, with Jayde's fist at eye level ready for action when Ms. Starks wedges herself in between them.
Brenda Starks: Ladies!! Enough!! If you both play your cards right you'll be able to settle this in the ring. For now, focus on your scheduled matches.
Ms. Starks smoothes out the lapels of her suit blazer and turns around to leave. The camera pans to the other end of the room where Bellatrix is standing, looking a bit disappointed and puzzled.
Bellatrix: Hey! Where'd all the chicken salad sandwiches and fruit arrangements go? The whole platter is gone! I thought catering just dropped it off an hour ago.
Brittany Sparks: I saw a big fat oaf of a guy in a greasy shirt in here earlier... I figured it was the janitor cleaning up. I tried to ask him who he was and all he said was that he "built this city"...
Bradley is sitting in his office idly, whistling away as he looks through some paperwork, some ratings reports, budgets, all that boring stuff. He'd let out a sigh and look over to his clock as if he was waiting for someone, almost impatiently it seemed. A few moments later a knock could be heard at the door. Daryl smirked, his mustache curling up as the devious man got up from his desk and strides across the room.
Bradley: Come in! Come in!
???: Sorry I'm late. The lines at the bathrooms are crazy.
Bradley: It's quite alright. Now come in and take a seat, we have a lot to talk about.
The door swings open and in walks the Turmoil Tv Champion, Dennis Black. The crowd has a mixed reaction as he moves into the room and takes a seat on the red velvet chairs. Bradley gives his mustache a twist as he sits in his royal blue swivel chair.
Bradley: I'm so glad we can finally talk one on one. Since this whole business with that thick headed idiot, it's splendid I can finally talk to someone who I see a bright future in!
Dennis: I'm happy to hear that, you really think I have a good future?
Bradley: Of course! Your work is something I've kept my eye on. You young man are going to go far, but as Madison told me, you could use a little help.
Dennis: Well heh, yea I guess a little from the management would help.
Bradley: My boy, with my guidance, you have the potential to be Turmoil Champion...
Dennis: Turmoil... Champion?
Bradley: Yes! The prestige you brought to the TV championship is evidence alone that you are going to be a great, maybe even the best.
Dennis: I'm not sure what to say...
Bradley rises from his chair and moves behind Dennis, placing his hands on the young man's shoulders, gripping them delicately.
Bradley: Don't say anything my boy. Just imagine. Your name up in lights. Sold out arenas of screaming fans all looking to see you. Your bank account never emptying. How a real champion should live.
Dennis: It all sounds great Mr. Bradley. I don't know though, maybe I should have a talk with Madison first.
Bradley frowns unbeknownst to Dennis, only to sigh a bit, moving back to his chair.
Bradley: Perhaps another perspective would help.... You may come in now.
The door opens and after a few heavy footsteps a grinning Tank is standing in the office, chuckling a bit as he looks over the TV Champion. Dennis turns around and as soon as he sees Tank he jumps up from his chair, read to strike.
Dennis: What is that son of a bitch doing here?!? You trying to set me up here Bradley?!?
Tank laughs harder as he moves forward, Dennis clenching his fists, ready for a fight.
Tank: Don't do anything stupid Dennis... You know what I can do to you...
Dennis: With a chair... You don't have a weapon this time...
Tank: I am a weapon...
Dennis' face curls up into a scowl and charges Tank. The man ready for this easily grabs Dennis and lifts him, slamming him into the wall, causing a hole in the wall. Tank like a rabid dog starts giving Dennis left punches to the face. As Dennis tries to block, Tank drives his foot into the TV Champion's stomach, sending the man down to the floor coughing. Tank proceeds to stomp Dennis over and over.
As this is happening a worried Madison runs into the room to see the scene of her man getting beaten.
Madison: Bradley! Call off your dog! Now!
Bradley: That's enough...
Tank comes to a stop and moves away from Dennis, Madison moving down to tend to the beaten man.
Madison: Dennis... This is what we need... Please... just say yes.
Dennis raises his head weakly up to Madison, his face bruised and bloodied from the fight, he gives a slight nod as Madison helps him to his feet. Tank smiles with a devious grin, getting back into Dennis' face.
Tank: Ya know I read the statement they put out. How the champion is supposed to represent excellence in the ring and in the locker room. How I am the antihiesis of that. Maybe it's time we don't play by the rules. I'm glad you made the right decision champ... I'd hate ruin that pretty little face of yours.
Dennis grumbles a bit as Tank moves away, laughing as he slap Bradley on the shoulder.
Bradley: Don't worry Dennis... You'll see that our way is best. Now.... off you go.
Madison helps Dennis out of the room as Tank sits down at the desk, putting his feet up on it. Bradley gives Tank a sideways look and moves to sit down at his desk, shoving Tank's feet down. As Bradley sits, his devious grin is impossible to hide.
Bradley: One more....
Seb was talking on his phone when Stacy timidly walked up to him, hanging up he looked at her.
Seb: Stacy! What can I do for you?
Stacy: Well last week you attacked Bill Ding, even going so far as to put him through the catering table. Was it because of him attacking you at the graduation special?
Seb: I've missed this Stacy. Yes I put that sloth Ding through a table and next week our fine GM Mr. Bradley has given us the opportunity to "resolve" our differences, with the odds against me.
Seb raised an eyebrow and smiled
Seb: Next question Stacy.
Stacy: Ok, you lost to Jackson Montgomery last week... Again. When will you Wi-
Seb cut her off with a wave of his hand.
Seb: Yea I did, Jackie got me good but it doesn't matter the bigger picture is Dingbat and Dyldo. If I can put them down next week it'll feel like a championship win. Actually there's no if's about this I'm definitely putting them down.
Stacy: Bold statement. On to the next question: speaking of championships you've not faced anyone who holds gold legitimately, how's that feel not to be included in the tag event?
Seb: It is what it is, I can't say I'm too thrilled with who they've chosen for some of these matches though.
Stacy: Care to explain?
Seb looked down at his phone before looking back up at Stacy.
Seb: Nah not really. I'll see you 'round Stace.
Seb walked off towards the backstage area to watch the next match: Bray S. Spur vs. Dennis Black.
The two competitors were spent when ‘Apocalyptica Grace’ started up and the crowd began to boo as Sebastian Abbott walked out to the ramp, mic in hand.
Seb began: You people think that was entertainment?
He pointed at the crowd before pointing at the two men in the ring, he continued.
Seb: I'm a man who likes to, how do I put this.. Instead of having one finger in one pie I'm putting all my fingers into all the pies. It's sticky work, but chicks dig it.
Seb was at the ring now, Dennis' valet was trying to tug him out of the ring.
Seb: Love just stop it, I'm not finished talking to them.
Bray had rolled out of the ring and was backing away up the ramp, staring at Seb with malcontent. Seb just waved him away before grabbing Madison around the waist and moving her away from the ring. He sat her down where the ring announcer usually sat between matches.
Seb: Just sit here.
Turning away from Madison, Seb picked up the tv title as he rolled into the ring and crawled to Dennis who was now sitting up right in the corner.
Dennis: What the...? Hey! Give it back!
Seb laughed and held the title in the air, a chorus of jeers rained down on him.
Seb: I don't think so, you'll get this back when I get what I want...
He ducked under the lunging Dennis, dove out of the ring, and then darted up the ramp, chucking the title on top of the Xtron before taking a bow then left.
Now back in the ring, kneeling behind Dennis, and cradling his head against her chest, Madison glared up the ramp where Seb bowed before leaving. Dennis was too exhausted to muster a glare after going to war with Bray. Instead, he simply closed his eyes and hoped for a few minutes of rest before the refs asked them to disperse. Who could blame him? He was resting on the best pillows in the arena.
#1 Contender Match
Jackson Montgomery vs. Aries