Clang, clang, clang. A dull, metallic noise reverberates through the speakers of the arena. The camera focuses as the lens widens, there are children screaming, balloons, piñatas and noise everywhere in the cafeteria area. We see Jacob Trance repeatedly hitting his head off of a locker.

On a small table around him are little fingerprints, he lets out a long, agonising sigh as he finishes the facepaint on another child.

Trance: There, you're a servant of Satan.

Kid: I wanted a butterfly.

Trance: You're a butterfly of death.

The kid does not understand.

Kid: I don't want to be a dead butterfly.

Trance: Just go away before I become a dead butterfly.

The child rises and runs towards the party, his face a picture of gory horror, his friends scream and run away as the child starts sobbing. Trance resumes banging his head off of the paint locker as we fade out. But wait! The screen comes back into focus.

Loki: OWL GOD! YOU HAVE FAILED TO MEET MY FIRST DEMAND, A HUG!

Loki begins to walk forward with his eyes closed and his arms spread wide.

Trance looks as if he is contemplating suicide.

Slowly he opens his shaking arms. His face is screwed up in obvious pain, a vein is pulsing in his neck, threatening to burst. In a stiff motion he wraps his arms around Loki.

Loki:....So soft, so warm. I love you Owl God.

Trance squeezes tightly. His muscles are flexed in apparent rage.

Loki: No, no. Soft...Soft Trancy, warm Trancy, fat ball of hate, angry Trancy, bitter Trancy, love, love, love.

Trance begins to cry in frustration.

Loki: It’s ok, Loki is here.

Trance through gritted teeth: What do I need to do next week?

Loki smiles and looks up at Trance: Prank call Aries.

Trance releases and walks as calmly to the door as possible. He tries to push through the door, but it doesn’t budge. He becomes more agitated and begins to pound on it.

Loki: You have to pull.

Trance takes a step back and punches the door down and walks out.

Loki: NOT CHILL!

The camera pans to the announce team.

	Looks like Trance has had enough.
	Can you blame him? Someone needs to kill him already.

	Anyway, our next match is on the way in just a moment.
	I am being told that Austin and Bingo have just arrived in the parking lot. Our camera's are going back there now.

B-17 and Austin Lee arrived in style. Still the dramatic, B-17 pulled slowly into the Turmoil parking lot driving his Midnight Blue 67’ Impala. “Oh Death” blared from the speakers, an obviously annoyed Lee stared out the window with wide eyes.

When the car stopped and the music finally stopped, Lee jumped out of the car and began drumming his fingers on the roof. B-17 stepped out slowly.

Lee: Ok...do you really only listen to one song? #Excessive.

B-17 just shook his head and began walking to the entrance.

Lee slammed his fist on the roof in frustration.

B-17: The hell you doin?

Austin jumped as B-17 had creepily appeared right next to him. The lights flickered a bit and Lee stood his ground.

Lee: Your music sucks, B!

Lee pushed past Bingo.

Only a few feet from the entrance a Wild Wrex appeared.

B-17: Le----

Before B-17 could warn Lee Jimmy Henry tackled B-17 from behind and began punching him in the side of the head. Wrex pounced on Austin and delivered a stiff elbow to the small of Austin’s back. Lee crashed through the door.

B-17 managed to push Jimmy off of him and made it to his feet.

B-17: Jimmy...prostate cancer hasn’t claimed you yet, I see….

Austin Lee w/B-17

vs

Wrex w/Jimmy Henry

The camera pans to the announce team.

	What on earth happened there?
	This is getting out of control.

Chase and Graham Hatton sat on comfy, purple plum La-Z-Boy recliners. They were both idle, happy with reruns of Doctor Who playing on the TV. Within the confines of their own personal locker room they were perfectly oblivious to the current state of Turmoil. So what if The Blek Plague was still plagin? The fact that Wrex had all but murdered Austin Lee was of mild concern and cancer was just a fact of life at this point, what with all those microwaved meals.

Trance’s battle with obesity was slightly concerning, as very little was left in catering. Rumors were that Bill Ding was particularly upset with these developments....The FBI had stopped in earlier to speak about Seb Abbott, but shit, grass on the field.

Honestly they were just happy that they had signed a contract and no longer had to quarantine bathrooms after every Madison visit.

Yep, life was good, Chase thought as he snuggled further into his chair.

Graham: Didn’t we win a big match a few weeks ago?

Chase wiggled his way so he could see his brother: You mean that night we pranked people at Wal-Mart?

Graham thought for a moment then started laughing: SWIPER NO SWIPING!

Chase: HAHAHAHHA. What a way to get kicked out of Wal-Mart! Although commandeering those odd looking bumper cars was awesome! Those old people were pissed!

Graham: Naw that was last night….WAIT YOU’RE RIGHT. We beat Sam Neil and Jacob Travis!

Chase: Didn’t they say we were gonna get new gear, new gimmicks, and better booking?

Graham thought for a moment: Bro, they totally did.

Chase: Bro, what happened with that?

Graham: I think they got preoccupied.

Chase: With what?

Graham: Jett Draven?

Chase: Heard he Jetted.

Graham: Sham?

Chase: Sham (less).

Graham: Nice, Devin?

Chase: Cancer.

Graham: Poor guy. What about that Warlock guy?

Chase:...testicular cancer.

Graham: Ouch. What about Bray?

Chase: Mass erect over Mass Effect.

Graham gave a thumbs up: Bro, smokin. What about Motive?

Chase: Lacked motivation!

Graham: Justice Black? James Bennett? EJ Okami?

Chase: Gone, dead, Okami, he’s actually back!

Graham: Oh...guess we’re like the veterans here.

Chase drifted comfortably back down into his chair: Not to mention our Booker is a filthy liberal pot head.

The camera pans to the announce team.

	I hope they both get hit by a speeding car. The world would be a better place without them idiots around.
	Did someone wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?

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