Older brother: This is the last time. I’ve had it up to here with lending you money. You seem to always find an excuse to not pay me back. After this, if you can’t pay up, I’m cutting you off for good. Understand?

Younger brother: Yeah man, don’t even worry about it. I got ya money, I just waiting on that check to come in the mail for my back pay. You know how it is, man. Everybody ‘round here getting laid off. The white man always makin’ it hard for a brotha to get his money right. Won’t let a brotha feed his family.

Older brother: I’d like to believe that a “brotha” should be able to feed his own self and not rely on any man, white or not, to do that for him. But anyway, you need fifty bucks right?

Younger brother: Yeah, man. Thanks, brotha. I know I could count on ya.

Older brother: Don’t get comfortable with that idea.

The older man takes out his wallet and hands his brother a crisp fifty dollar bill, puts his wallet back in his back pocket, and walks out of the house. He gets into a wide-body Cadillac car and drives off. Scenes cut back to the younger brother smirking at the fifty dollar and heading to the living room. The man lived in his late mother’s house. Some of the pictures in the living room were old ones of him and his brother when they were kids. Others were of their deceased parents. One big family portrait hanged over on the wall of all four of them. The younger brother uses his hand and pushes some things covering the table to the side. He then digs under the cushions of the couch and grab a white envelope which has “Back Pay” written on it. He laughs a little to himself as he puts it on the table. He takes out the money which seems to be a large amount and adds the fifty dollar bill to it. He then shoves it back into the envelope and puts it back under the couch. He gets up and laughs to himself.

Younger brother: Back pay, brotha? You are my back pay. Ha-ha.

He laughs and walks out the living room as scenes fade to black. It returns but this time at school. It seems as if school had just been let out. The school was full of black students, most walked home or took the bus. There alone stood two boys talking amongst one another attempting to keep themselves entertained as they waited for their rides. Soon a very decrepit old car pulled up and the boys said good bye as one got in and drove off. The boy that was left sat on the ground, leg folded Indian style, looking up and down the street for his ride. Soon the same wide-bodied Cadillac seen before pulled around the curve and drove down the street. The young boy smiled and stood up as the car pulled up beside him. There was the older brother inside the car. He reached over, unlocked the door, and pushed it ajar. The boy opened it and got in. He then closed the door. He placed his book bag on the floor, underneath his dangling feet.

Older brother: So how was school today, son?

Son: It was good.

Older brother: Your little friend got picked up, right?

Son: Yeah.

Older brother: Good. Hate to have that boy hanging around here, not everyone in this community is as “honest” as they should be. Last thing I need to happen is the same thing that happened to that Jenkins boy. Can’t believe how they robbed the young man of all his lunch money and clothes.

Son: Dad, when is uncle going to come visit us?

Older brother: Soon enough or I might have to visit him.

In the back of his mind, if his younger brother did refuse to pay up he would certainly make a visit but it would be anything but a friendly one. He didn’t want his son to see that man. The man he used to call his flesh and blood. He had known something went wrong with his younger brother’s attitude when their father had passed away and the mother began to pamper him, maybe a psychological reaction to losing the man she loved? Whatever the case was his younger brother soaked in the attention. In his mind, he probably thought he deserved royal treatment being the younger of the two. Fool. That’s all the man could think, how his brother now tried to leech off of him since their mother passed away as well. Well, he isn’t going to be playing bank for his brother so he better get his act together the man thought to himself. The young boy looked at his father who seemed to be very deep in thought. He could only wonder what went on in his father’s brain as scenes fade away to black.

Location: Glacier's / Hudson's Mansion, California
Scenes open as water splashes up on the side of the pool. Soon a body comes up and it’s Junior with a smirk on his face. He has on only his orange swimming trunks. He leans up against the edge of the swimming pool as he looks over into the house. He wipes the water from his eyes as his vision is a bit blurry. He sees a beautiful woman walk from inside the house in a brown bikini, it’s Hazel. Unlike Junior’s wild jump into the pool, she slowly lets herself down into the pool next to him. She also leans up against the side. Glacier had gone to help Holly and Hudson was…wherever. Ever since Amber’s suicide, Hudson has been hush-hush. So for a couple of hours, they found Anthony’s new residence to themselves. Hazel gave Junior a kiss as he wrapped his arms around her. The perfect couple? Who knew but in his most difficult times she was there for him. He had brought her out here not just for fun but to just get away from it all and for them to catch up with one another.

Hazel: It’s so nice of Anthony to let us crash at his place.

MJ: Yep. So what’s going on with you lately?

Hazel: You know, the usual…college, friends, and watching you get your skinny ass kicked around a ring.

MJ: Heh, skinny, huh?

Hazel: Compared to guys like Chris Lawler? Uh yeah!

MJ: Yeah I guess I am but that’s embarrassing that skinny me is better than these big guys huh?

Hazel: If you weren’t you would have been squished by now. So what’s going on everyone’s favorite US champ?

Shorty Jr.: It’s the Interim US Champ and as far as I go…just getting over one part of my life. I beat Silkk one on one and now I feel as though I’m ready for any challenge up ahead. I feel comfortable, I feel like I can stand up a single entity without having the thought in the back of my mind that there is a man still out there that is possibly better than me and has made me. It’s just a relief.

Hazel: Feeling good about your match against Wheeler?

Shorty Jr.: I feel uneasy, make no bones about it…the man held the US and Tag titles at the same time and I’m just struggling to get over the fact that I was able to beat Silkk to hold to belt. It’s just something that blows my mind. He’s an amazing guy and there’s no need for me to be ashamed, I look up to him as a guy who can do what most consider the impossible. Of course there will always be people who hate him for his success like Greg but to me, people lie numbers don’t and I highly doubt anyone can count the amount of times Wheeler has made it out on top when the odds were stacked against him. I guess I can be considered the same way too. I’m just honored to stand in the same ring as the man, much more be able to wrestle against him. When push comes to shove, he knows my star-struck awe of him will be vanished and we will wrestle a good match. I know that he is on a rampage to get back into the SCW Championship scene quickly and I won’t stop him but I won’t be a push over either.

Hazel: That’s good to know.

Shorty Jr.: Yeah. If I can beat Wheeler, I think I’ve done what many couldn’t and that is as sweet as winning any championship if you ask me. That’s the problem with most SCW wrestlers; they see a title as the ultimate crowning accomplishment but what about beating one of the best SCW has to offer? Is that not an accomplishment? What about putting on a good show that makes people go home and call up their friends telling them how entertained they were? I’m not trying to Josh Hudson everyone but sometimes we all really do need to look past what others conceive as an accomplishment and look at the small things we do as accomplishments within themselves.

Hazel: What do you consider your biggest accomplishment?

MJ: Waking up every morning to know that you’re still with me.

MJ gave her a kiss on the head and they held each other. MJ wondered how his father was doing. He knows lately that Shorty had been stressing over his father’s death. MJ felt slightly responsible for it as he continued a barrage of insults towards Silkk about being a street hustler but his father would have to understand this is just a part of him, arguing back and forth with former stable mates. A concern of look was across his face as he held on tight to Hazel. Scenes fade to black.

Flashback: New York (est. 1977)
Scenes open back to the older brother on the phone. He seemed annoyed as he put a coin into the slot and closed the telephone booth. He soon heard a voice on the other end of the phone. The man sounded either like he was high, he just woke up, or a weird combination of both. To hear the man sound like that didn’t make the older brother any happier about the situation. He cleared his throat and began to speak.

Older Brother: A month.

Mystery Man: Month?

Older Brother: Yes, brother, it’s been a month since I lent you the money. I don’t see any repayments surfacing, what’s going on?

Younger Brother: Oh man you know how it is…

Older Brother: I don’t care how it is. I want the money now. Your nephew needs new shoes for school and I have to buy food for our house.

Younger Brother: Man, can’t the kid wear the old ones? When he bought his last one? Two days ago?

Older Brother: Two years.

Younger Brother: They can last a lil’ while longer can’t they?

Older Brother: No. They can’t. Time is up. If my money isn’t in my hands by tomorrow, YOU won’t last any longer.

He slammed the phone down, pulled the door back, and left the telephone booth. Scenes soon change back to the younger brother who hangs up the phone with a disgusted look. He heads over to the closet and pulls out a jacket. He digs into the pockets until he finds a number. He smirks and heads back to the telephone. He dials the numbers how he sees it on the paper and waits for the person to pick up on the other line. A rugged voice is heard.

Thug: Who dis?

Younger Brother: Don’t tell me you don’t remember me. The handsome looking brotha you offered your services to today at the market.

Thug: What you want, Johnson?

Younger Brother: I need a little favor. I have a bit of a “rodent problem” and I was hoping you could do some pest control for a brotha.

As they continued to talk, an even more deviant smirk across the young man’s face became evident as the time passed. He eventually hanged up the phone and headed over to the furnace. He threw a few newspapers into it. He grabbed a lighter from his back pocket, light it, and threw it into the furnace where fire began to burn a blaze. He walked over calmly to a picture of him and his older brother smiling as young children in a black and white portrait photo. He picked it up and stared at it a little longer. He then suddenly dashed it into the fire. The photo began to melt as his dark brown eyes stared at what he had done. The scene began to blur as the fire took over, scenes immediately switch to someone quickly sitting up in bed in cold sweats breathing heavily. It was MJ, shirtless with Hazel lying next to him in bed. Hazel awoke from the sudden movement and saw MJ sitting up, panting. She also sat up and looked over at him with concern.

Hazel: Had a bad dream?

MJ: I-I-I don’t know. It’s like I’m reliving or watching something that happened years ago. I was dreaming how my grandfather and granduncle were arguing over money and my dad was a kid. It’s like as if, I’m seeing it in first-person or something.

Hazel: MJ, I think you spent a little too much time in the pool. Go back to sleep, sweetie, you’ll be okay.

He nodded his head and lied back on his pillow. He couldn’t sleep though. All he could think about was the call and the burning of the photo. He had to talk to his father about this. There was no way it could be normal for him to know all this from a dream. It was almost disturbing. It must have just been what he perceived of the events. Yeah, that was it. Just another one of his active imaginations gone wild…but he doesn’t have active imaginations. Damn it. He had to figure it out. Scenes fade away to black.