We pan across a parking lot somewhere on the outskirts of a city, sweeping across a row of cars in front of one of those multi-business buildings. The camera stops at a familiar rusty pickup, still wet from the recently-departed rain, and pans up to show the store it’s parked in front of. “Dr Nick’s Economic Diagnoses,” declares a sign in old-school neon lettering.
We fade to a shot of the inside, with Cort standing in a very cramped office. Odds and ends are crammed into the place, with anatomical models missing key parts, organs in jars, and a live monkey in the corner next to a stack of paper. There’s barely enough space for an operating table in the middle of all of it!
The titular Dr. Nick turns around, and we see that he’s more normal-looking than his shop, though his waistcoat does have some old stains and his eyes gleam greedily behind his small glasses.
Dr. Nick: Ah, hello! A new customer perhaps!
Cort: I think you’re supposed to call them “patients.” Also, what is the monkey doing there?
He points at the monkey and it hoots back at him.
Nick: Ahh, that is Carlos, my assistant. He hands me the tools! And he costs a lot less than an actual nurse.
Nick chuckles weirdly while Cort throws glances at the jarred organs, wondering if one of those belonged to a previous employee.
Nick: Anyway! What malady have you come to me with, hmm? Bad humors? Leakage of the brain? Demonic possession? Delusions of grandeur? An enlargement of the external occipital protuberance?
Cort: Uh, no. Just a broken wrist.
He waves the cast.
Nick: Oh, but it looks as if you are already receiving treatment?
Cort: That’s the thing, doc. I don’t need treatment. I need you to pretend that this is healed so I can get into a fight with a guy who used to be my friend and an aspiring battle rapper who smells like urine.
Nick: That does not sound wise, Mr… ?
Cort: Marshall. Cort Marshall.
Nick: Ah! Another man with a strange name. My last name is Neck, you know.
Cort stares for a second, trying to discern if the man is serious.
Cort: So, Dr. Nick Neck?
Nick: Yes. It has haunted me for decades. They made fun of me… they ALL did.
He rubs his hands together as Cort continues to stare.
Cort: Uhh, okay. Well. Like I said. I need a clean bill of health. And by the looks of this place, you need a maid.
Nick: Not after what happened to the last one. Isn’t that right, Carlos?
The monkey screeches in response.
Cort: Look, just… how much do I gotta pay you to do this for me.
The doctor scratches his chin before opening a drawer and removing 5 cobs of fossilized corn. He places them on the operating table and begins spinning them with his finger while humming what sounds like Bach. Just as Cort is about to ask what the hell he’s doing, the doctor watches the last cob of corn stop and turns around.
Nick: The cobs have spoken. They say two hundred dollars.
Cort shrugs.
Cort: Okay.
He hands over the money and the doctor pockets it before snapping his fingers at the monkey.
Nick: Carlos! Paper!
The monkey grabs a sheet of white A5 printer paper from the stack. It begins to fold the paper into an airplane, little monkey fingers working quickly. It tosses the airplane across the room, and the doctor catches it. He painstakingly unfolds the paper before feeding it into a printer perched awkwardly on top of a stack of textbooks. The printer makes that frightening assortment of noises that kind of sound like something’s broken, and then it stops--so you REALLY think it’s broken--but then it starts back up again.
Nick hands the page to Cort, who inspects the document. It actually looks fairly official, and is somehow free of any fold markings…
Cort: This’ll do nicely, thank you.
The doctor claps his hands together.
Nick: Very good! Come again! They all do, eventually.
Cort attempts to ignore more evil chuckling as he leaves the building and we fade out.
The camera pans to the announce team.
We've made it to the end.
Lets do this.
Wrex & Jacob Trance vs
Code Jackman & B-17
The camera pans to the announce team.
...
...
The scene opens in the backstage area. Valkyrie is once again on the phone with her mysterious caller.
???: So… when are we finally going to meet?
Valkyrie: Stop trolling me! I know you are here tonight. I had to drag you to the backstage area a few moments ago.
???: I'm right behind you….
Valkyrie turns around to face her old friend.
Alyssa Winters: Hello, Sarah.
Valkyrie: Lyss!
The two just stand there staring at each other what seems to be an eternity.
Valkyrie: What the hell were you thinking out there? What's your problem with Terra?
Alyssa completely ignores the question.
Alyssa Winters: I can't even tell for how long I've been waiting for this moment, I've got so many things to tell you and… wait!
Alyssa suddenly turns her attention to the catering area where Ashley Moore is seen yelling at Staff for some unknown reason.
Alyssa Winters: Is that…
Valkyrie: Ashley Moore. Yep.
Alyssa Winters: Is she the bitch who attacked you on Riot?
Valkyrie: Yes.
Alyssa Winters: The one who took that infamous selfie that went viral?
Valkyrie: Yes indeed.
Alyssa Winters suddenly shows a devilish look in her eyes. She grabs Valkyrie by the hand and drags her all the way to the cathering area.
Alyssa Winters: I say it's time for a little payback.
Valkyrie: No, wait! You are going to get us in trouble again!
Alyssa Winters: Oh, same old Sarah. As cute as a pony, but as soft as a snowflake.
Alyssa Winters: Hey, you!
Alyssa manages to somehow get Ashley's attention.
Alyssa Winters: I think you owe my friend here an apology.
Ashley Moore: Is that so? You are so insecure you now need your friend to fight your battles for you?
Valkyrie tries to separate the two but to no avail.
Valkyrie: It's not like that. Let's keep it civil, come on.
Alyssa takes a few steps back, acting as if Valkyrie succeeded in her attempt to defuse the situation. A few moments later, though, she shoves Valkyrie right into Ashley. The Instagram bandwagon trips on her heels and falls to the ground, hurting the back of her head in the process.
Alyssa Winters: Oops! My bad!
Valkyrie: No! What have you done?!
Alyssa ignores her friend and pulls out her smartphone as if she is about to take a picture.
Alyssa Winters: Come on, strike a pose. This is going viral.
Valkyrie: I don't even have an Instagram account…
Alyssa Winters: Just do what I say! I'll take care of the rest
Valkyrie dabs on Ashley Moore who is still rambling on the floor. Alyssa takes the picture and posts it on the Internet.
After that, the two quickly leave the scene as they hear the security staff approaching.
Alyssa Winters: Oh man. That was epic. We are rolling together again, just like old times. How does it feel?
