[Previously taped.]

[The camera appears behind the shoulders of a massive man, clad in a black suit and with a golden belt slung over his shoulder. Following him is an even larger man, wearing black jeans and a black tank top, with long blonde hair pulled into a ponytail.]

Big D: Impact, remind me not to let you drive anywhere, ever again.

[Impact, the larger of the two men, shrugs.]

[The setting: The outside of The 1st Mariner Arena in Baltimore, Maryland. Some hours before the show, the fans have started to line up, but security is tight, and D and Impact enter the building without any incident.]

[The camera pans around the main lobby of the Arena as the two men disappear step inside. A banner promoting OLW Line Two hangs from the ceiling, and techies scurry around, testing audio equipment and various electric cables.]

[Back with D and Impact, they disappear through an inauspicious side door, and into what appears to be a VIP lounge. A long, rectangular table sits in the middle of the room, set over black and orange carpeting. A poster of the Oriole bird, the Baltimore Orioles mascot, hangs from one wall, and underneath the bird, sits the OLW Commissioner, the Keep It Real Kid.]

[KIRK has one end of the table all to himself. Also gracing the table are Avarice, with Marissah Whitley-Lancaster with him, Jennifer “Miss Jenna” Lyons, Danny Vicious, and Yoshikazu YAZ, the last mentioned in street clothes, but with his mask pulled on already.]

KIRK: Gentlemen.

Big D: Boss.

[KIRK stands up.]

KIRK: Now that we’re all assembled…

Vicious: I don’t see the Jeff man.

[A look around the table shows that Jeffy Andrews, indeed, isn’t present.]

Avarice: I don’t believe he’s necessary, actually.

[KIRK looks briefly uncomfortable, but he replaces his smile on his face, and continues.]

KIRK: Right. Well, if he can’t make it to the meetings on time, he deserves to miss things, right? At any rate…

*SLAM*

[The door bangs open, and Jeffy Andrews stomps into the room. His demeanor could be characterized as surly, and he’s carrying a Code Red in one hand. He’s followed by Paco Losantio, and lastly by Zeke Cassidy. Andrews comes to a stop, so suddenly that Losantio has to do a sort of dancing side hop to avoid running into him.]

Andrews [pointing at Avarice]: What’s he doing here?

KIRK: Jeff, take a seat. We’re just getting started.

Andrews: Also, he’s in my chair.

[For the record, Avarice is sitting at KIRK’s right hand. Miss Jenna sits across from him, Marissah next to him, Vicious across from her. D and Impact occupy the next row of chairs, with Yoshikazu YAZ sitting at the far end of the table.]

KIRK: Jeff, just sit down.

[Andrews ignores his boss, walking over to Avarice.]

Andrews: You. Scram.

[Before incident can occur, Jenna stands up.]

Jenna: Jeff, you can sit here if it’s that important to you.

[Andrews rolls his eyes, and plops down in her chair. Jenna goes to the far end of the table and sits down by Paco. Zeke does not get a chair, because he is too low on the proverbial totem pole.]

KIRK: So, can we get started?

[The assembled wrestlers and wrestling personalities nod.]

KIRK: Righty-o. So where shall we start? Ah, yes… the changing of the vision of The Unforgiven II.

[Danny Vicious shakes his head.]

KIRK: As most of you are aware, the original concept we planned for TU2, did not and will not come to fruition. Chris Redpath apparently thought that being part of this group was enough that he didn’t need to bother fulfilling his work dates – obviously he was wrong, because I had to go and fire him.

[KIRK leans back in his chair, placing his hands behind his head.]

KIRK: Of course, when Chris was out, our elite pledge pulled out as well, saying that without ‘everyone’, it was pointless.

[Avarice looks puzzled by this remark, for the record. The others – Andrews, Vicious and D – know exactly what this means.]

KIRK: Fortunately, Paco brought Mr. Yoshikazu in to help fill the void, and I think he’s done an excellent job so far, wouldn’t you agree?

[A round of polite applause from the table. YAZ dips his head.]

KIRK: But, with Chris and the pledge out of commission, that left OLW somewhat… short handed, at the top level of the card. With D and Danny both in the running for the Mid Atlantic Title, and Jeff in the Trios Tag Division… well, there was a void in the stable, that needed filling. Which is why, we chose to bring Avarice into the group.

[Everyone present, except for Jeffy Andrews and Danny Vicious, claps.]

KIRK: There is another reason that we have brought Avarice in, if I may be given time to explain.

[The noise dies down.]

KIRK: With the collapse of the Coalition of Affiliated Leagues, OLW has hit some hard times. While we’re still turning profit at all our shows, advertising is not what it used to be, and we’re forced to directly obtain our arena bookings. This, as a matter of fact, is the last card we’ll ever have at the 1st Mariner. It was booked while we were still on the CAL payroll – now that there is no CAL payroll, the 1st Mariner is out of our price range.

Andrews: So, what’re you saying? We’re going to start having our weekly cards at The Amphitheatre, and our PPVs at The Arena?

KIRK: No. I’m saying we needed to bring in an outside sponsor, who has the money to pay for these things. Avarice, the floor is yours.

[Avarice rises. He has already placed his red contact lenses in his eyes, and he cuts a fairly imposing figure.]

Avarice: It is lonely at the top. Pursuing Daemon Curtis and the OLW Championship has been an entertaining endeavor, but I have been there before, and I know how difficult it is to maintain one’s position at the top, especially alone. Therefore, KIRK and I have cut a deal.

[A faint smile appearing on his face, Avarice slowly regards the table.]

Avarice: I shall have the full backing of The Unforgiven II at my disposal. In exchange, I shall both fund OLW itself as it expands following the collapse of the CAL, and I shall reside as its shining star.

[A loud silence follows. Then.]

Andrews: …the hell are you talking about?

Jenna: KIRK, I told you this was not going to work well.

KIRK: Look, let’s get this straight. Jeff, you’re out as ace of the stable, Avarice is in. I would have told you earlier, Jeff, but since you seem to have so much trouble controlling yourself.

Andrews: HORSE SHIT.

Avarice: Sit down before you embarrass yourself, child.

Andrews: Sit down yourself before I kick your ass right damn now, motherfucker.

[With a swiftness not usually seen in such large men, Impact is immediately up to his feet, where he grabs Andrews by the arms. KIRK himself raises one hand to ward off Avarice.]

KIRK: With Avarice’s addition…

Vicious: Hey.

KIRK: What do you want, Danny?

Vicious: Well, I’m not sure what the hell this is all about. KIRK, you say the Unforgiven II needs Avarice? I say the Unforgiven II can’t have Avarice in it! Avarice has nothing to do with LBWF or IWA…

Avarice: You haven’t changed much since the NAWA, have you, Daniel?

Vicious: Fuck off, Goodlife. When I address you, you may speak to me. Until then, plant your lips back on KIRK's ass.

KIRK: Danny, don’t you start.

Vicious: Don’t give me that shit, Richard, you’re the one that started this. The Unforgiven II…

Losantio: Yelling isn’t going to help anything.

[Vicious sits down with a growl.]

Big D: Danny… Jeff. Guys, chill out for a minute.

[Big D is the veteran of the group. Although not the highest on the card position, his status is respected enough that the others step down to let him speak.]

Big D: Look, I know what the Unforgiven II’s supposed to be about. But maybe that can’t happen. Chris, you know, he’s gone. Everyone from the first Unforgiven who’s coming back, is back. Canadian Psycho, Mike Destroyer and Paul Bunyan left the business years ago, and no one would be stupid enough to bring Katie Weller back. And Jeff, you told me Ronnie Long retired.

Andrews: Yeah.

Big D: So here’s what I’m saying. Jeff, I think it’s bullshit that KIRK demoted you behind your back – but that’s the biggest problem. What’s now the Unforgiven II needs to worry about making itself as good a stable as possible. And even if it wasn’t right – if Avarice is the one going for the OLW Title, then that’s why he should be leading the stable.

[D sits down, as the assembled applaud, somewhat more enthusiastically than the others.]

Losantio: Well, I to an extent agree, D. TU2 isn’t what it was originally planned to be – but if the goal is to build the strongest possible stable, I don’t see why anyone needed to stress the stable by demoting the man who made it all happen. I know he’s doing tag teams with myself and YAZ right now, but Andrews is a legend. He’s the rightful CAL World Champion…

[The former Ultra Raptor pauses briefly, in case someone objects. When no one does, he continues.]

Losantio: …he’s been a top draw in the CAL for years. With no disrespect intended, Avarice has only just pulled himself out of the midcards since joining OLW. What I’m saying is – even if he has had a tough time lately, Andrews has through his career, earned the right to be the stable’s ace.

Vicious: Damn right.

KIRK: Interesting. Big guy, your thoughts?

[Impact, the mute, points first at D, then at himself. It’s simple sign language – he agrees with Big D’s take on things.]

Zeke: Do you all want to hear what I think?

Everyone: No.

[Zeke wilts back into the corner.]

KIRK: Anyone else?

Marissah: I don’t see why Andrews, and Vicious for that matter, are being kept around in the first place. Surely they aren’t needed with my husband here.

Andrews: Everyone who thinks the bitch needs to shut her yap before she finds something 13 inches long down it, say aye.

Vicious: Aye.

Avarice: You see? They’re children.

Big D: They’re still good wrestlers.

Avarice: That…

Jenna: KIRK, I told you this wasn’t going to work. I told you, we don’t need Avarice. If we were in money trouble, Kai Scott would deal with it himself.

KIRK: I’ve already heard what you have to say about the matter, Jenna, and I don’t care. You’re our legal advice, but that doesn’t mean you know anything about wrestling.

Jenna: And you’re so much smarter than me, right… made any deals with coca-cola lately?

[KIRK’s face twists up. Back in LBWF, KIRK discovered he could make extra money by exclusively marketing Coca-Cola products on the show, but the other wrestlers didn’t like it…]

KIRK: Speak when spoken to, woman.

[Jenna slowly stands up.]

Jenna: Fuck off.

[Her high heels clicking on the floor, Jenna stalks around the side of the table, and out the door.]

Vicious: Great going, KIRK. You’re bitching about money, but do you realize how much she’s made just by handling the merchandise? If she quits and loses the fed money because you’ve got Avarice’s nose so far up your ass he can smell what you ate for lunch…

Avarice: Quiet, fool.

KIRK: Yazo, you’ve been quiet. Anything to say?

YAZ: …I’m actually, amazed that this has been an issue at all. Avarice has lost two matches since he joined OLW, and has been pinned once. Andrews has been on a slump ever since he lost the CAL World Title rematch against Killingbeck in pathetic fashion, and now he’s drunk. If he can pull his act together, maybe he can restate his case – until then, suggesting that he rather than Avarice is qualified to head the stable is completely insane.

Vicious: Excuse me a second, guys, but fuck that. Avarice's winning record should hold no barring towards our movement. If we were going to allow every Johnny Asscrack who won a few matches in OLW into the stable, we'd be up a creek. Think back to The Untouchables when Adam Duh-licious was at the helm. He let people like Jason Lee into the stable with winning records and it became a laughing stock. Yoshikazu, where the fuck did you learn the word "Loyalty" from? Dora the fucking Explorer?

[YAZ shoots Vicious a glance of utter contempt, but doesn’t answer.]

Andrews: What he said. Also, you’re supposed to be my tag partner, douche-fucker.

YAZ: You’re supposed to be a role model, not a womanizing drunk.

KIRK: Well then, it’s settled. If Jeff’s own tag partner thinks he’s unqualified, then it is so. Avarice, from here on, you are now officially the jewel in The Unforgiven II’s crown.

[KIRK pauses, expecting the polite applause he was getting earlier. There is none, except an attempt from Big D that dies out.]

Andrews: Very well then. Avarice, I extend you my hand.

[Avarice stands, and extends his hand across the table to shake – and Andrews quickly pulls his own out of the way. With his other hand, he brings up his bottle of Code Red, and pours it on Avarice’s hand.]

Vicious: HA!

[Vicious stands. He and Andrews walk out of the room without a backwards glance, Zeke Cassidy trailing after them. KIRK stares after them in vexation.]

Big D: I hope this is the worst of it…


[There’s something about red sports cars that never fails to get fans worked up. Maybe it’s envy, maybe it’s that red sports cars tend to be associated with the sexy high life. Either way, as the car pulls into the parking lot’s VIP area, the fans still outside the arena burst into cheers.]

[These cheers get louder as the car’s passenger door opens, and Heidi steps out.]

[Having not changed into her wrestling gear, Heidi is wearing her street clothes. Today, those are a pair of jean shorts and what appears to be a “4C” T-shirt. 4C, of course, being the logo of her brother, “The Creole Colossus” Cole Christenson, currently caught in contract limbo.]

[She smiles and waves to the fans, and they respond by flipping out.]

[The driver’s door slams, and Dawn climbs out.]

Dawn: I could get that kind of reaction if I really wanted to.

Heidi: I doubt it.

[They both laugh.]

Dawn: Ha. Next you’re going to tell me that you don’t think Gemma could get that.

[Heidi glowers.]

Heidi: Don’t start.

Dawn: Hey, I’m just trying to get you ready for your match.

[Heidi shakes her head.]

Heidi: You have no idea how ready for this match I am. People keep saying that Gemma’s my equal, and even that she has a chance to beat me…

Dawn: And don’t forget the whole psychological grip on your irrationality thing.

Heidi: I’m not forgetting that. In fact, I’m going to be remembering just that while I rip her shoulders out of joint.

Dawn: Then doesn’t that mean she’s won?

[Dawn giggles. Heidi stops walking.]

Heidi: You know, if you’re nervous, you can just go home.

Dawn: Nervous? I’m not nervous.

[She giggles again.]

Heidi: Hey, between Jeffy Andrews and Avarice, I don’t blame you. But you’ve been working on the ring rust anyway, haven’t you?

Dawn: Yeah, it’s just that…

Heidi: I know. Cole’s not here. How’s the negotiations coming anyway?

[Dawn looks relieved at the change of subject.]

Dawn: We’re threatening legal action. KIRK has no right to hold his contract hostage. But KIRK’s stonewalling. It’s taking time.

Heidi: Figures. Well, come on. Someone might be saying and or doing something funny right now, and we’re missing it.

[They depart inside.]


[A camera bounces through the backstage area, locking on a low level cord jerker. A voice comes from behind the camera.]

Camera man: Are you sure it was him?

Tech: I wouldn't get something like that mixed up. He went this way.

[The tech points down a long hall with a gold plate on the door. The camera moves down the hall aimed at the floor.]

Styles: Someone should fire this camera guy, you can't even tell where he's going.

Conarri: He must be in training or something. But it looks like...

Styles: KIRK’s office!?!

[Sure enough, the camera pans up the door to a nameplate indicating the room beyond as Kai Scott's office. Muffled voices can be heard behind the door for a few moments before the camera jerks back and the door swings open to the back of a black t-shirt. A voice comes from the back, obviously directed back into the room.]

Voice: Have a good one.

[The camera juggles a bit as the back moves closer before knocking the camera man over, leaving the camera angle awkwardly tilted. The shot shows a pair of jeans and a pair of black Chucks and somewhere beyond them a smaller, pink pair of Chucks and blue jeans.]

Voice: What the duece?

Female voice: Here, lemme help you up.

[The camera lurches awkwardly again, panning over a tight, white wife beater over a tighter feminine build. When the camera is finally righted it locks onto a smiling tan face that hasn't been seen in a great while.]

Styles: Is that...?

Conarri: This can't be... If she's here then...

[The shot jiggles as the cameraman is obviously shaking. The tan face disappears as the camera pans up to another smiling face with a full, well-trimmed beard and tightly curled brown hair. Piercing blue eyes glare into the lens.]

CCK: You alright there chief?

Cameraman: Su... Sure Mr. Kline.

['Catastrophic' Chris Kline looks healthy and happy in a battered looking CCK t-shirt, as does Thysandra Kline, who has now moved past the camera since they've hit the wider backstage hall.]

Thys: You sure darlin? Yer shaking like a leaf.

Cameraman: I'll be fine I think.

CCK: Come on baby, we're going to miss Phil's match.

[The pair move down the hall, Thys gently swaying and CCK striding confidently before the camera moves back to the announcers.]

Styles: Is 'Catastrophic' Chris Kline coming to OLW?

Conarri: If he is I have a feeling things are about to get very, very interesting...


[A camera opens in a locker room backstage. So far, no one can be seen in the room. The camera pans around and catches a glimpse of an uniformed individual, wearing a white shirt and black pants. This man turns around and faces the camera.]

Remo [shocked]: Aaahhh! What the…? You scared the crap outta me. What are you trying to do?

[Remo takes out his panic on the cameraman a little more. From another part of the room, Phil McKracken walks up next to Remo.]

McKracken: Remo, what’s the problem?

Remo [pointing to camera]: I was shining my boots up, and this guy walks in.

McKracken: Well, remove the tree trunk up your rear and take it easy. He’s probably here to just get a few pre-match words from yours truly.

[Remo take a seat and continues to shine his boots. Before Phil can say anything, there’s a knock at the door.]

McKracken [irritated]: Who the hell can that be? I told that scrawny kid NOT to let anyone bother me.

[Phil walks over to the door and opens it. There is no one outside. Phil steps into the hallway to see if he can catch a glimpse of the Knock-Knock Ditcher, but no one is around. Before he re-enters the locker room, Phil notices a white piece of paper taped to his door. He opens it up and reads. Reading the note infuriates Phil even more.]

McKracken [infuriated]: REMO! GET YOUR ASS UP! I HAVE TO GIVE YOU YOUR SPECIFIC POST ORDERS FOR TONIGHT!

[Remo scrambles to his feet dropping one of his boots and the shoe polish.]

Remo: Uh, yes, uh, sir…?

McKracken: I don’t care what other wrestlers, referees, or OLW personnel come down to the ring tonight. There is only one man that you are to DISPOSE of if he comes ANYWHERE near the ring tonight. And, that’s BOXCAR WILLIE!

Remo [puzzled]: Wha—what do you mean? I know you two are not on speaking terms, but why this?

McKracken [pacing]: Because now that little S.O.B. wants to make threats. He wants to threaten me. He’s trying to throw me off, make me worry about him instead of Big D and Shanahan. Well, that’s not going to happen. Not on my—I mean—YOUR watch!

[Phil hands the piece of paper over to Remo. He takes glance at it and his eyes bulge at its contents. The camera peeks over Remo’s shoulder to see what the note says. It reads…]

WHEN YOU GET IN THAT RING, YOUR ASS IS MINE!

Signed BW

[The camera fades.]