The cameras open up outside the Women’s locker room where we see Sophia putting her things down. She opens up her duffel bag and pulls out her “Woman of the Year 2016” award, holds it up in the light and admires it for a moment.

Sophia: Pretty damn sexy if I say so myself!

At that moment, Sophia hears a grunt behind her. She turns to see big Bertha Stigglitz practically breathing down her neck. She looks up at the giant who is peering down at her in disgust.

Bertha: Ha! Stupid girl. And silly little trinket. Nothing next to Bertha gold medals.

Sophia returns the glare right back at her.

Sophia: Trinket? Ha! Jealous much? I mean, too bad it was “Woman of the Year” and not “Man of the Year”... You would have been a shoo-in.

Bertha exhales loudly through her nose.

Bertha: Woman of Year, Man of year, both not matter! Bertha better and stronger than all!

Bertha pulls out her Olympic gold medals (seemingly from thin air) and dangles them in Sophia’s face tauntingly.

Bertha: I come to America many years ago to prove that Bertha is number one athlete in the world. I demolish competition in female professional power lifting, I WIN.

Bertha: Now, I come back to OCW to show Bertha strength and dominance! At Clash, I will take big trinket from Alex Robinson and add to collection! And little girl Sophia, you will not stop BERTHA! I crush before you get chance.

Sophia swats the dangling medals away from her face.

Sophia: I don’t care about your raggedy old medals from yesteryear and your good ol’ days of legal juicing, “Ms. Bratwurst on steroids”.

Sophia: Just be prepared to show up and throw down just like we did at Devil’s Night. Perhaps this time I won’t 617 your XXL-lederhosen-wearing a** through a flaming table.

Sophia: See you this weekend, Bertha. Maybe you can stand next to me with your ‘medals’ when they raise my hand and hand me the belt.

The camera pans to the announce team.

	I can't wait for Sophia to bring home the women's championship.
	Not if Big Bertha has anything to say about it, that and I guess we can't count Alex out just yet either.

	I am going to repeat what Sophia said on Riot. She beat Alex and Bertha once and she will beat them again at the clash.
	Guess we will have to wait and see. Now it's time for the fatal 4 way match. This is one you don't want to miss.

Cactus

vs

Austin Lee

vs

B-17

vs

Jackson Montgomery

The camera pans to the announce team.

	He did it.
	That man just got bragging rights.

We come back to the Monopoly table to find things rather one sided, it would appear Loki owns no properties on the board bar one, The Electric Company. Trance sits alongside a huge stack of money, the game quite clearly in its closing stages.

Loki: I can do this.

Trance: No you can’t.

Loki: Just one throw of the dice…

Trance groans.

Trance: You need to roll an eight or an 11 or you land on one of my properties, and you have no money.

Loki: I have shoes, or an eight, or an 11. That’s a 50 percent chance!

Trance: Even if you roll an eight, you’ll go to jail… Just concede, you can’t win this battle.

Loki stands up, clutching the dice, holding it to the sky.

Loki: MY DIE IS THE ONE THAT PIERCES THE HEAVENS, WHO THE CHILL DO YOU THINK I AM!?!

Loki holds his dramatic pose, crickets would chirp if it weren’t daytime. Trance stares blankly for what, once again, feels like an eternity. Loki then sits down, silently. He shakes the dice, then pops them in his mouth, gnawing at them.

Trance: What… Are… You… Doing?

Loki tries to talk, but nothing but an indecipherable mess comes out, his speech impeded by the dice.

Trance: Just, please… Go.

Loki: SUPAHDICESHOOTAHHHH!!!!!!!

Somehow, defying the laws of physics and biology, Loki manages to utter the name of his special attack as he spits the dice out, rolling a five and a six. Trance stares incredulously as his chance to win the game is stopped for now. Loki proceeds to the Community Chest with a huge grin on his face.

Loki: I! WILL! BUY IT!

Loki looks around for money, before removing his shoe, throwing it into the bank tray, sending money everywhere.

Trance: It’s a community chest… You can’t buy that… Shoes aren’t legal tender… THere is so much wrong with what you’re doing that I don’t think you even read the rules.

Loki is confused.

Loki: What do I do?

Trance motions towards the Community Chest card pile.

Trance: Draw one.

Loki: I don’t have any paper…

Trance forcefully face palms.

Loki: That looks fun.

Loki joins in, giving a yelp of pain.

Loki: That was not chill!

Trance grits his teeth, trying to calm his temper.

Trance: Pick… Up… A… Card.

Loki smiles, getting it.

Loki: Yes, Owl God!

He snatched at a card, then his face turns upside down, looking like a child who not only just dropped his ice cream cone, but simultaneously let go of his balloon at the same time.

Loki: It says that I should pay a fine, but I have no money or shoes… Does that mean I win?

Trance: The opposite, you lose.

Without another word Loki leaps into the air, aiming to bring his knees into a painful embrace with Trances.

Loki: SECRET LOKI TECHNIQUE, LOKI’S LADDER!

Trance nonchalantly moves aside and Loki misses into a shattering of glass as the once beautiful coffee table explodes into shards.

Trance: Um…

A loud, high pitched, blood curdling scream comes from the prone Loki as he rolls around, clutching his buttocks whilst amongst the wreckage of Trance’s glass coffee table.

Loki: Trance! Trance! There’s glass in my ass!

Trance stares, wide eyed.

Loki: There is glass in my ass! It’s bleeding! I am anally bleeding! Oh god I am going to die!

Trance sighs and then calls loudly for Jeff and Cameron. Graham and Chase promptly come running, but stop abruptly as they see Loki attempting to pluck glass from his ass.

Trance: You said call you when something interesting happens...

The camera pans to the announce team.

	I love monopoly.
	You should ask them if you can join in sometime then.

The Southern accent of Jeremiah Tully can be overheard in the catering department, his voice is raised, complaining and shouting about the standard of service. The push-bar door swings open, colliding with and knocking over a trash can. Through the doors comes Tully spitting out a gob of muck from his mouth, chewing his tobacco.

Jeremiah Tully: Yeah well I didn't want to sit in your puke smellin' cafeteria any how!

Jeremiah notices the camera that's focused on him and continues to speak.

Jeremiah Tully: Last week I had my say but this week, it needs to continue because now as well as all these jumpin' Mexican beans we have guys waffling each other over the head with tefals, bleedin' like stuck pigs and rolling around like clubbed baby seals!

He spits onto the ground.

Jeremiah Tully: What the hell even is that? Didn't your daddy's raise you right? The only weapon I need, is right here.

Tully holds up his right hand, clenching the fist as he scowls into the camera.

Jeremiah Tully: And if any of you walnuts want to try and prove me wrong we can dance the dance until the band finishes playin' but I'll be the last man, the last real man, standin'!

Jeremiah turns and walks away down the hall, chewing his tobacco as we go back to Randy Rice and Tom Sanders.

The camera pans to the announce team.

	News just in. Jeremiah Tully's debut match is going to be at Turmoil 150.
	I hope Tully is ready for this.

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