The Butcher picks Ding up and sits him down by Ronald Regan's desk. Ding is dazed after the attack. A man in a suit is standing by the desk silently. A woman can be heard laughing. The camera pans into a back of a chair when the woman is laughing to herself. Suddenly the chair turns around to reval women's champion Alex Robinson.

Alex: "Expecting Daddah?"

Ding is still dazed and out of it.

Alex: "Congratulations Bill Ding!"

Rodent comes from behind the door carrying Leon's necronomicon. He lifts up his hand as the Butcher grabs Ding by the hair and lifts it up so he can see Alex.

Alex: "You ruined months and months of work at the Clash."

Rodent: "Yes master not champion because of you."

Alex: "Shut up you disgusting Rodent! I got this!"

Alex moves closer over the desk to Ding. She has the crazy eyes.

Alex: "LEON DESTROYED DENNIS AND YOU STILL SCREWED EVERYTHING UP! LEON SHOULD BE THE NEW TURMOIL CHAMPION NOW BUT HE'S NOT AND IT'S ALL BECAUSE OF YOU, YOU FAT F**K!!!"

Bill Ding starts to come around.

Alex: "So what do you have to say for yourself?"

Ding: "Babydoll ya need to know your place! What do you have to do with all of this?"

Alex: "You think this is a joke?"

Alex goes into her father's desk and pulls out a stapler.

Ding: "This ain't the time for secretarial work, mama?"

Rodent uses the necronomicon again as he moves his hand forward. The Butcher grabs the hand of Ding and places it under the stapler. Ding however fights back with one hand. Alex starts slamming her hand down on the stapler and staples Dings hand six to seven times. Ding doesn't let the pain phase him but Butcher manages to hit Ding with a powerful punch causing Ding to fall to the floor. Alex gets of her seat with the stapler still in hand and kneels down to a beat up and hurt Bill Ding.

Alex: "The SKWAD wanted me to tell you operation 66 is now in effect and it just so happens... You are first on the list sweetie."

Rodent continues playing with the necronomicon. The Butcher goes to Ding and he uses his hand to pull out Dings tounge. He places his tounge under the stapler.

Alex: "Just so you know... This is going to hurt like HELL!!! But hopefully this will teach you to learn from your mistakes and getting involved in OUR BUSINESS!"

Alex presses down on the stapler. Ding this time shouts out in pain. The man in a suit is still by the desk and watches on in horror and what he just saw.

Rodent: "What do we do with him my mistress?"

Alex: "Nothing, we wouldn't want to hurt my daddies associates now would we?"

The man in a suit is petrified.

Alex: "You can just tell my dad the implications his decision had from putting this abomination in that match."

Alex picks up her championship as she looks at Ding who is in a world of hurt on the floor.

Alex: "Well it's been fun but so much to do and so little time. So this is goodbye Ding but,..."

Alex looks at Rodent. Rodent again waves his hand across the necronomicon. The Butcher goes for a chair.

Alex: "I'll leave you with our good friend the Butcher now and just remember to stay in your lane from now on ok HUN? You wouldn't want us to visit you again."

Alex goes to open the door.

Alex: "Come on Rodent, we're leaving."

Alex and Rodent leave the room as the Butcher has a sick and sadistic smile on his face.

Ronald Regan along with security come running in as the panic alarm has been pressed under the desk by the man in a suit.

Regan: "Son of a B***h!!! Who did this?"

The man in a suit: "You daughter, she's evil... Pure Evil."

Regan: "Where is she Paul?"

Paul is the man that has been in the suit and has been in this room the entire time.

Paul: "I don't know sir, they were talking about leaving and could be in the parking lot?"

Regan: "Call for the medics Paul. Ding needs medical attention."

Paul nods as he runs for the phone.

Regan: "Security follow me."

Regan leaves his office with security as they head for the parking lot.

The camera pans to the announce team.

	She's crazy.
	Very, I hope my boy Ding is alright.

Graham Hatton was sweating profusely from the effort to pull the cart of mats. His brother Chase sat off to the side enjoying a buffalo chicken sub from Subway. They were halfway through the setup of the wrestling ring for Turmoil post, post show, Little Tykes and Big Dykes, to be held in the basement. Chase had volunteered them, since they were not being booked, they had to do something to remain on the payroll. They didn’t have the luxury of being booked once a month along with one promo every two months and yet remaining “over,” but it was the wrestling world and gentlemen came and went.

Still. Little Tykes and Big Dykes.... Turmoil management was really scraping the barrel for those funds. Luckily those rookies bonuses were redirected to funding Seb Abbott’s lawyer fees, which were becoming extensive, yet enough was left over to provide Leon with a discount to Houdini’s Smoke and Mirrors Magical Euphorium.

Graham: Bro! Help!

Chase: After I finish this fresh, delicious, tasty, meaty, turkey filled cold cut combo.

Graham looks over concerned: Um, what?

Chase: Practicing for when we get a Subway commercial!

Graham: You have a buffalo chicken sub…

Chase stops chewing and looks down at his sub: Good analysis!

Graham: Get over here and help me!

Chase sets his sandwich aside and jogs over to help with the cart. Together the brothers had managed to get the base of the ring setup, but they still had a long way to go before they were finished. A crash in the distance caught both men’s attention as Graham squealed like a little girl!

Chase looks over with raised eyebrows: Bro…

Graham: Shut up!

The long hallway just outside of the hosting room relied on those yard dimmer lights that your grandma had. Remember, funding was low.

Still they could hear a slight racket, it sounded like a pipe being repeatedly pounded against metal.

Chase: HELLO!

The clanking stopped.

Graham: ARE YOU A DOG!

Chase hissed at his brother: Stupid question! Dogs can’t see in the dark!

In the midst of their bickering a brilliant flash of blue light exploded from the end of the hallway and then a swoosh of chilled wind brought complete silence.

Graham and Chase exchanged horrified looks: G-G-G-GHOST!

Off they stumbled in panic towards the stairway.

Chase: My sandwich!

Graham: LEAVE IT!

The camera pans to the announce team.

	Up next Wrex, Austin Lee, Lil' Hudsy and Cactus all get a shot at the Hardcore champion at Turmoil 150.
	Time to find out who that person is going to be.

(Falls count anywhere/winner gets a Hardcore Title shot at Turmoil 150!)

Wrex

vs

Lil' Hudsy

vs

Cactus

vs

Austin Lee

The camera pans to the announce team.

	He's got himself a date with the Hardcore champion.
	Turmoil 150 is going to be awesome!

The scene opens backstage as Stacy Clark catches up with Lil Hudsy, Hudsy just finished his match and is on his way back to the locker room.

Stacy: Lil Hudsy. Last week you made your Turmoil debut, but unfortunately, you received quite a heavy beating from Wrex. A beating that saw you go through several tables and take numerous weapon hits. What are your thoughts on your debut?

Lil Hudsy: Well Stacy...

My motto used to be that "Weapons Won't Prosper"
But that's an ideology I no longer foster.
Changed my mind last week after going through 4 tables,
Knew that Wrex was mad, didn't realise how unstable.

Saw my match tonight, looks like another war,
But in all fairness that's what I signed up for.
It's time to show the world, I'm not another schmuck,
It's time to show the world, why they should giv....

Jeremiah Tully enters the shot, interrupting Lil Hudsy' before he is able to finish his dope verse.

Jeremiah Tully: Just what in the Sam Hill is that crock?

Tully chews loudly on his tobacco.

Jeremiah Tully: Sufforing succotash someone ought to string you up by the neck... You aint gonna show the world nothin' because you aint somethin'. You're just another one of these stupid kids, it's you people...

The crowd audibly inhale as Hudsy looks on in shock.

Jeremiah Tully: I don't get invited to the Clash because I haven't debuted whilst trash like you gets to swan on in free of charge, then you have the audacity to stand there and jabber about war... You aint been to war, my Daddy, my Daddy has been to war and I won't stand here and let you piss on his memory. It's you people that are ruinin' everythin' good and right with your obession to try and modernise everythin'. Jesus can hear you just fine without no saxophone and forty overweight menopause ridden women clappin' and dancin' along like a Saturday mornin' kids show. Save the gimmicks for the ring, not for Church.

Lil Hudsy' grabs the mic back from Jeremiah Tully, and square up face-to-face with the taller, older man.

Lil Hudsy: Well sir...

I oughtta whoop your ass but I'm scared incase you trip,
You older than my grandma, I'm nervous for your hip.
Now I'd love to say and chat and listen to you blether,
But I can't take you serious with a face that looks like leather.

The two men just stare at each other, waiting for the other to make a move. Without another word Tully grogs in Hudsy's face, blinding him with his chewing tobacco. A sucker punch follows, knocking Hudsy to the floor.

Jeremiah Tully: Pay your dues and show some respect, boy. Less you want a whoopin, walnut!

Jeremiah spits again before disappearing into the backstage area. Stacy Clark begins to tend to Hudsy as we go back to the commentary team.

The camera pans to the announce team.

	What's with everyone tonight?
	I am glad someone shut him up.

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