Stepping into the building through an audible wave of boos is the OCW World Heavyweight Champion, Ijitu Quartz. Flanked as always by his advisor, Spider, the two make their way down the hall.
Walking by crew and other wrestlers alike, who turn their heads in disgust after the actions of last week when Quartz dismantled TY Sparks in the ring, in front of the world. Quartz & Spider do not miss a beat, staying focused and making their way down the halls.
Quartz stops and peers to the right at something... A slowly creeping in microphone held by the outstretched hand of Jim Black...
Quartz: What?
Jim Black: Quartz, after last week, do you have any additional comments on why-
Quartz: Were three interviews last week about this subject not enough for your amoeba sized brain to comprehend? TY Sparks was dead weight. He and I should no longer be in the same sentence. This is the last time I'm going to talk about it. If you approach me again about that weasel, I'm going to put you in the same position he was in... Got it?
Quartz steps away with one more glance to Jim Black, before he can get too far away, Jim responds.
Jim Black: Actually, I was going to ask why you think AC Cobra got involved... Have you spoken to him yet?
Quartz steps back to Jim and removes his PRISTINE SUNGLASSES, staring Jim in the eyes.
He opens his mouth to speak, but his eyes suddenly blink and divert. He closes his mouth and smirks, leaning back up and placing his PRISTINE SUNGLASSES back on his face.
Quartz: You know what, Jimothy? I think you better just watch the show.
Spider slaps the microphone out of Jim's hand and follows the champion as the two walk out of shot.
Backstage we see the OCW Undisputed Tag Team Champions, Lucha Country inching their way along the corridor, bringing up the year is El Parca, holding a Bible, in front is The American Kaiju, Mark Reese. Clutched between his massive paws is a cross.
Their destination is on the other side, the pair creep forward, the target coming into sight. It’s The Last Blacksmith.
His smouldering gaze swivels and falls over the pair who freeze on the spot.
Reese: He’s lookin’ right at us little buddy.
El Parca: Don’t worry, his vision is based entirely on movement.
Reese: That’s the tyrannosaurus rex, also known as the Tyrant King. They’re extinct, and he’s definitely not extinct.
The Last Blacksmith doesn’t say anything just yet, Reese shakily raises the cross for protection. The pyromaniac just stares as Reese tries to reason with him.
Reese: Well Mr Blacksmith sir, we were hopin’ you’d do us the honour of a little favour.
El Parca: It’s the day of my daughter's wedding.
Reese blinks and turns round, smiling widely.
Reese: Your daughters getting married!
El Parca shakes his head and whispers lowly[/b]: No, I don’t have one…
Reese turns back towards The Last Black Smith.
Reese: So, we were hopin’ that you’d maybe not do anythin’ crazy like burnin’ the Iceman like Parca burns everythin’ on the barbecue.
Parca looks shocked at Reese.
El Parca: That was a secret meant between two friends. And second off why are we asking him this? Tre attacked you like a wild animal eating roadkill. Who cares if he melts the Iceman before we do?
Reese: I get what you’re sayin’ lil buddy, you’re whipped up like a house of hornets but that ain’t the Lucha Country way. We got ourselves a warriors code, just like The Last Blacksmith here, ain’t that right?
Reese, despite his words, is still brandishing the cross.
Blacksmith, with his face still frowning from the long-distance verbal confrontation with Iceman that took place earlier, replies without even looking up from the ground.
TLB: Whatever you want….Whatever you want…
Blacksmith passes the duo and heads briskly to his dressing room to prepare for the main event. The tag team champions watch him go, and as the scene fades they begin a conversation.
Reese:I can’t believe we met a vampire!
El Parca: Yeah big guy.. we sure did..
Parca shakes his head as he and his best friend walk off and the cameras pan back to the announcers table.
ALEX ASHER
vs.
HUNTER MCINTYRE
Maxx Edwards, actor extraordinaire, is alone in catering, minding his own business when he is savaged by cheap cologne. He panics and shoves his meal away, clasping at his nose.
Maxx: What the hell’s that stench? It’s like being back on set for Sahara in Seattle!
Almost as if on cue, Thomas Archer's lawyer, Mr. Feinstein pulls up a chair across from Maxx.
Feinstein: Just the man we were looking for!
Edwards looks around, visibly confused and irritated.
Maxx: I think you gotta keep looking, I’m done with all of Archer and all his little “mates with estates.”
Maxx leaps up out of his chair and tries to flee the scene but not before Feinstein grabs his arm to which he takes extreme notice to.
Feinstein: Maxx, cmon you and I both know how hectic life is for someone like Thomas Archer. He didn’t mean anything personally!
Maxx resists the urge to smack Feinstein and live with the subsequent charges and instead sits down and prepares to listen to the conniving lawyer.
Maxx: Gimme your thirty second elevator pitch business man, I got places to be.
Feinstein: Me and you both know you don’t have places to be Maxx.
Maxx: TWENTY-FIVE
Feinstein: Okay! Okay! A new and improved UAE. Trim the fat, where we only focus on YOU and, Mr. Archer!
Feinstein: No more worrying about rookies, no more trying to juggle others. Just YOU and Archer.
Feinstein rubbing his sweaty palms together as he looks quickly at Maxx.
Feinstein: So? What do you say Maxx? Let's get the band back together, and let’s make UAE Great Again!
Maxx takes a second to review the offer at hand.
Maxx: Just me...and Archer?
Feinstein: Yes, just you and Archer. All your wildest dreams and aspirations Maxxy.
Maxx: And you really think this is what would be best for me?
Feinstein: Of course! When have I ever lied to you? I look out for YOUR best interests!
Maxx: Not a damn chance in Hell.
Maxx gets up and launches his chair, narrowly missing Feinstein as it crashes behind him. Maxx leaves catering leaving behind only a shaken Feinstein and a half-eaten pasta carbonara.
Feinstein: Nothing fixes almost getting hit by a chair other than food!
Feinstein without missing a beat continues eating his pasta as the cameras fade to black.
