We Fade into The Scene At Cesar’s Dojo as Heather Angelo Meditates And Cody Hagen stands alongside watching.
Cody: I Know You didn’t want me at ringside Last Friday But In hindsight I Should’ve. Now You’re 1-1 Since Your Return To OCW And U are 3 Points in The Women’s Super S Cup. Next Matchup Is Against Another Woman from Your past.
Heather opens one eye and gives him the bombastic side eye. She closes it back up.
Cody: You know it’s true.
Heather breaks meditation and stares out towards nothing.
Heather: Cody come here.
Cody is instantly overwhelmed with fear and moves in slowly towards Heather. You can see his Adam's Apple move as if he swallowed his last breath.
Heather moves in and whispers into his ear. A few moments pass and Cody’s eyebrows raises.
Cody: Oh that’s why!
Heather moves away and shakes her head “Yes”. She closes her eyes and holds the back of her neck.
Heather looks around to find something to soothe her aches. She sees a hot tub and gets up from her mat.
She takes off her t-shirt and joggers only leaving on a sports bra and tight shorts. Cody eyes follows where she’s going and sees her step into the hot tub.
Cody takes his shirt off and looks at his shorts. He unties them and opens them from the waist only and says to himself “Nah”. He follows her into the hot tub.
They both sit down and enjoy the relaxation, the peace and the quiet of the Cesar Dojo.
Heather: AJM really did a number on me today. I can see why Drago and Dragana are the best in the ring. Their devastating moves last longer than anyone in OCW.
Cody: That is true Heather. That’s Why I Trust Drago My GM of OCW Not That Psycho Bitch EMP Which BTW She Slipped into An Pool and I Couldn't Contain My laughter.
Heather starts to giggle.
Cody: My goodness. I have never seen you laugh before.
Heather: Thinking about the pool reminds me of a memory I had with my father. There was a time where he was teaching me how to swim at Far Rockaway.
Heather: He went out too far for my liking. The water was up to his shoulders and he told me to go out there towards him.
Heather: I hesitated but I finally found the courage to do so. I swam out all the way until the water got up to my chin.
Cody: That’s awesome!
Heather: But wait, there’s more. He then jumped on my shoulders and put me under the water. I was under for a long time until I nearly Blacked Out.
Heather: He then pulled me back up when I was on my last breath. I didn’t have the energy to scream, cry, swim away or anything….and you know what he said?
Cody is so deep into the story he’s actually lost for words for once.
Heather: He said, “Babygirl all you care about right now is breathing. You don’t care that I betrayed your trust, hit me or runaway. All you cared about was breathing. LIVING!
Cody: i wished That i Grew up with you Because That’s messed up from your Father that truly is. That Never happened to me growing up. My Father Was A Retired Motorcycle Member At Age 56 When I Was in Indiana.
Heather: I was mad at my father and didn’t speak to him for days and weeks. I didn’t realize it until now that it taught me something, Cody.
Cody: What the hell can a father teach his daughter doing that?
Heather: It taught me if I wanted to succeed as badly as I want to breathe then nothing will stop me from being successful.
Cody: Wow. i Do gotta Say this When The 30 foot Fall happened At Hard Target what were u thinking in your mind did u black out or think about your Father.
Heather: In that blackout, I thought about my Dad. I heard his voice telling me to breathe just as he did when he pulled me out of the water.
Cody: then Do u remember me Picking you up from The broken Panels and the Glass and letting The EMT’s do their work.
Heather smiles. Her smile lights up Cody’s face.
Cody: I think that’s the first time you smiled! Like is that a genuine smile?
Heather: Settle down, I’m not calling you Daddy! But yes, it was like that.
Cody: I wasn’t thinking about Having you call me Daddy. Why Would i think that No. We’ve Been Friends Hell Since You Were Furiosa in Kassianity i Was Your Supporter And u Became The Longest Reigning OCW Worlds Women’s Champion.
Heather: Let’s not talk about that right now.
Cody: Ok so uh…about Marisa. She’s on a hot streak right now and are you worried about her in the slightest?
Heather: Madd Dogg has her preoccupied. She isn’t worried about me in the slightest degree. That could be troubling for her. But that’s not what I’m thinking about right now.
Cody: Well Troubling For Davis Talk About A Slow Fall For Him Ever Since He Couldn't Get The North American Championship In The Triple Threat Match Back In The 19th Anniversary.
Heather: Cody, You defeated Bash but right now you just fumbled the bag.
Cody looks confused.
Cody: Wait what?
Heather: Eh, nevermind. I wanna see Mr. Sensation soon. But I don’t think he liked the last time I visited him. I feel as though he needs my help evicting that trifling bitch Empress.
Cody: You’re not going to get anywhere near his home. Not with TOG around and don’t forget Blaine. Well technically Almost All TOG Members Shianne Is Dealing with The House of Faith.
Heather: You’re right. I lost a lot of friends here and that’s why I’m on this “apology tour” now. I’m trying hard to gain allies but I don’t think it’s going to work out.
Cody: Just fight Heather! Just BREATHE you got this!
Heather takes a deep breath and holds it….then exhales.
Heather: You’re right. Let’s just enjoy the silence now shall we?
Cody: Yea but There’s been locker room chatter mostly from EMP That I'm dating You which is not True I Have A Certain Someone outside OCW That I have my Trust and loyalty.
Heather: Trust no one, Cody. That’s always been a rule around here. Let the chatter continue because you don’t have to defend anything that isn’t true.
Heather: Plus, it’ll get back to Harvey and cause a distraction from his brother. Hopefully, that will disrupt The Perfect Storm and his entanglement with Empress.
Heather winks at Cody. She closes her eyes and sinks lower into the hot tub. Cody smiles as he gets the message and puts both of his hands behind his head to sink into the tub himself. The two just relax and enjoy the moment.
We cut backstage with Jim Black, who is interviewing a conspicuously tracksuited Paul Boulet.
JB: Well, fans, we’re just a short while away from this man, The Goon, Paul Boulet, taking on our current OCW world heavyweight champion, El Parca, in a submission match. And I understand, as you always do, that you have some words to say about this?
Boulet nods, jogging in place and throwing some light warmup punches.
PB: OAUF OUGH BLEUF!
He enunciates francophonishly as he punches.
PB: That’s right, Jim. It may not be for the title, but I am going to treat it like it is. I was robbed of my chance to get my educated ‘ands on Palkha, and so tonight, in a match that I must say is my specialty, I’m going to break out all my frustration, all my anger, and all my textbook wrestling holds to make the champ tap out like Dragana Cesar in a spelling bee.
He laughs to himself and resumes his exercise, bouncing from one foot to the other.
JB: But, I must say, El Primero, no stranger to submissions himself… and if I might add as well, your previous submission match with Victor Karmine ended very close… but no cigar for you or your North American title dreams.
Boulet stops and glances back at Jim, annoyed.
PB: Of course ‘e is no stranger! That is why they booked this match, eh? What are you, fresh off the bus from camp stupid??? When I lost to Karmine I was blinded by my anger. Tonight, I am all focus. All business. And speaking of business…
He starts to unzip his tracksuit, to which Jim Black glances away in sheer terror… only to open one eye and see that Boulet is showing off the top of a new singlet.
PB: It ‘as just picked up. That’s right. I spent good money on a brand new “suit” to christen my victory over Palkha, but I suppose debuting the new, better, meaner, edgier, more contemporary Paul Boulet while I defeat the best technical wrestler and risk-taking nutcase this company has to offer will be a nice consolation prize!
He turns to the camera again.
PB: That’s right, all you little German boys on the Twitter, or X, or whatever the terminally divorced ass of Elon Musk wants to call it, who say, “Ooh, look at Paul Boulet, that man does not change his clothes every week like some kind of deranged fashionista, ja ja, eet eez so funny,” well, now you get what you want, so you shut up, eh???
JB: … I see. Fan opinion aside, not only tonight will you face a current top champion but at Endgames, tomorrow night, March the second, International Champion and newly-minted lone wolf, Sheldon Tremblay.
Boulet smiles proudly.
PB: That just means that some of the people ‘ere ‘ave, against their better judgment and good taste, realized what I bring to the table. That my skills are undeniable. That I am bringing wrestling BACK to a time of greater prestige. Greater intrigue. Greater dignity. I am much like OWEN in that way, eh???
PB: Except of course I am not a humourless mushy pea-eating betrayamaniac. Management ‘as realized my current win-loss record is merely a phase of… adjustment to the climate of OCW.
PB: Like ‘ow the vending machine area is a greater nexus of crime than the worst ‘ood in Chicago, or the scuzziest Nova Scotian trailer park.
PB: They ‘ave realized that soon, I will become a name on the level of both of the men I am about to BEAT.
He hypes himself up, shaking his fists and resuming his air-boxing.
JB: You heard it hear first, Paul Boulet, OCW’s most rising star… not yeast--least of which in his own mind.
PB: WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN???
JB: Nothing, nothing!
ROUND 3 RIOT BLOCK
SUE PLEX vs. HIFUMI MAYOSHI
PREVIOUSLY RECORDED
Earlier today we’re taken to a coffee shop in midtown. Sitting alone at a table in the corner of the establishment is Claude Hall. His laptop is open and he is checking the influx of text messages on his cell he is receiving from one Benjamin C-Note Franklin, his new boss.
The tone of the text messages are nasty and mean, demanding all the things that Claude must do for him today. Claude takes a long chug from the coffee cup next to him and takes a deep distressful breath.
CLAUDE HALL: This is some real bulldookieshoes. This needs some alcohol in it.
He mutters to himself under his breath as he puts his face in his hands massaging it for some relief.
After a few moments he hears an alert from his computer. He looks up and suddenly his computer screen is flooded with embarrassing captures of him over the last couple of weeks. He looks around frantically checking to see if anyone has noticed before slamming his pc closed. A barista who is cleaning a table nearby takes notice of this and addresses Claude.
BARISTA: Hey, you okay? You don’t look so good.
Claude blushes and sinks in his seat a little.
CLAUDE HALL: Oh yeah I’m okay. Thanks.
BARISTA: Okay, let me know if you need anything.
Claude nods and flashes her a nervous half smile as she goes about her business. Just then Claude gets a notification on his phone. It’s a message from an unrecognizable phone number. He opens it and staring back at him is the face of Le Prince Mamon.
Claude jumps in his chair and tosses his phone on the table. Other patrons in the coffee shop get alarmed at the sudden commotion and start to stare at Claude. Claude looks around at all the people staring at him and breaks out in a sweat. As he feels the beads of moisture forming on his brow he quickly gathers his things and storms out of the coffee shop!
As he gets outside, he frustratingly kicks a nearby trash can and he rapidly takes a deep inhale of the “fresh” outdoor air. He tries to shake off the disturbing thoughts running through his head before he is noticed by a small group of professional wrestling fans. He hears….
FAN: Hey, Claude Hall! Can we get a picture with you?
Claude puts his head down and abruptly yells out, “NO!” He starts to power walk down the block away from the group of fans that are taken aback. He suddenly stops in his tracks, turns around, and yells out to them.
CLAUDE HALL: Sorry guys! Just now isn’t a good time. Be well.
He turns and starts to jog away from the scene. As he rounds the corner the scene fades out.
