[Sometime shortly before the show, maybe an hour or so.]
[The office of Elijah Goldman.]
[Elijah Goldman at all times has an appearance that could be described as ratlike, but it’s more pronounced than usual right now. His eyes are dark and shiny behind his glasses and they dart in every direction, and the tip of his nose is flushed and almost looks like it’s twitching. His forehead glistens with sweat.]
[The office is perfect. The desk is spotless except for a mahogany, gold and navy blue velvet embossed pen holder sporting a pair of $60 pens, there are potted plants on the file cabinets and a little American flag hanging next to the window.]
[Yoshikazu YAZ leans against the wall, his arms folded. His expression is lost behind his mask.]
[Lisa Loeh sits cross legged on the edge of the desk. It’s very film noir. She has nice legs and her little black miniskirt doesn’t cover any of them. She looks bored and irritated, and as Goldman bustles around the office, fixing that and reading the other, she occasionally glances at his back in cold contempt.]
[Then there’s a knock at the door.]
[At a glance from Goldman, YAZ walks over and opens it.]
Kai Scott:
Word up, yo?
Elijah Goldman:
Come right on in, Mr. Scott, I’ve been waiting to talk to you for a long time.
[Goldman pulls up a chair, a cushy padded one, for Kai to sit down on. YAZ steps back and leans against the wall.]
Elijah Goldman:
Lisa, get Mr. Scott a drink. Kai, do you like scotch? Dewars or Johnny Walker?
Kai Scott:
Thanks, but I don’t drink anymore.
[Goldman claps his hands together.]
Elijah Goldman:
Excellent. The more I know about you, the more I respect you. And you know, that’s actually why I asked you to come here and talk to me.
[Kai settles into the chair, places his crutch lengthwise across his lap.]
Kai Scott:
So why did you ask me to come talk to you?
Elijah Goldman:
To be frank... I’d like for us to work together.
Kai Scott:
What do you think I can do to help you?
Elijah Goldman:
...Lisa, pour me a drink.
[Lisa Loeh takes a bottle of Dewar’s 18 Years Old off a shelf and pours it into a glass. Goldman takes a swallow, and then a deep breath.]
Elijah Goldman:
Much as it pains me to admit it, I don’t have wrestling as figured out as I thought I did. My master plan to control Bronson Box against everything Eric Dane wanted to do didn’t play out the way it was supposed to. Dane stymied Box handily by playing a wrestler who didn’t care about the points or the tournament against him.
Kai Scott:
I see.
Elijah Goldman:
I don’t have the wrestling connections that Dane does, nor do I have my finger on the pulse of the business the way he does. And I need someone who can do that to work for me. Cito Conarri wouldn’t give me the time of day. Jeff Andrews, even if he’s as smart as Dane claims, which I personally haven’t seen...
[Kai frowns.]
Elijah Goldman:
Sorry. Forgot he was a friend of yours. But at any rate, I don’t really understand wrestling. And you do.
Kai Scott:
...Since you admit you don’t understand wrestling, here’s some advice for going forward. If you want to get on someone’s good side, it’s best to do them a free favor beforehand, rather than the opposite.
[Sweat beads on Goldman’s forehead, and he pulls out a handkerchief and dabs at it.]
Elijah Goldman:
I do apologize for the situation with Claira and the TLC match, but I didn’t have time to book or hold a rubber match in Evolution League and I couldn’t let Heritage send an extra wrestler. My hands were tied. Again, I apologize, but...
Kai Scott:
Jonny Booya isn’t booked very high on the card either.
[Elijah fidgets in his seat and stammers something unintelligible.]
Lisa Loeh:
You know, if you’re willing to work with us, we can make sure that Jonny never gets overlooked again.
[Kai stands up.]
[Goldman shrinks back and YAZ takes a step forward.]
Kai Scott:
What, precisely, do I gain from playing backstage chess with Eric Dane? Money? Preferable treatment?
[Goldman looks at Lisa. She looks at Kai and raises her eyebrows.]
Kai Scott:
The truth, Mr. Goldman, is that I’m sick and tired of that game. I’ve won, repeatedly, I don’t need the self-gratification that winning again would bring me. I’m not going to work for you, for the same reason that I haven’t agreed to work for Eric Dane for Jeff’s sake - or decided to help Heidi make you sorry for the way you’ve treated her.
Elijah Goldman:
...why?
Kai Scottt:
Because I’ve been the King, and I almost died on the throne.
[Tucking his crutch under his arm, Kai turns to leave. He limps to the door, then stops and looks over his shoulder.]
Kai Scott:
If it makes you feel any better, my loyalty is to the Truly Untouchables. If Jonny Booya makes it to the final round of the tournament, I’m going to try and make sure he wins. So if you want my cooperation, the best - and only - thing you can do is to treat my wrestler fairly.
[Kai steps out of the office, shutting the door behind him.]
[E-Gold slumps forward, head in his hands.]
Elijah Goldman:
That didn’t go well. At all.
Lisah Loeh:
It could’ve been worse. He told us enough to work with at least.
[Pushing himself up, E-Gold looks at the young woman]
Elijah Goldman:
What do you mean?
Lisa Loeh:
I have a wrestler to manage, I can’t just tell you. Look, just get me as much information on Jonathan Andrews as you possibly can and we’ll start from there.
Elijah Goldman:
Who’s Jon Andrews?
Lisa Loeh:
Jonathan Andrews is Jonny Booya’s real name. Gawd. Just listen to me.
[Lisa stalks out of the room. Goldman sighs, then looks at YAZ.]
Elijah Goldman:
Are you going to call me stupid too?
Yoshikazu YAZ:
...I don’t really think that’s necessary.
[He leaves the room too.]
[Goldman fumes, but he doesn’t have anything better to do, and so after a minute or so he takes out his laptop. Some clicking and typing ensues.]
Elijah Goldman:
Jonathan Andrews, better known by his stage names Jonny Bravo, LAREDO, and Jonny Booya, made his professional wrestling debut in 2004...
[Nothing left to see here. Fade.]
=-=-=
[Defiance Wrestling continues in...]
5....
4....
3...
2..
1.
[The MGM Grand Arena arena goes pitch_black, causing the sold-out crowd inside to vault to their feet with feverish anticipation.]
[Up on the DEFIAtron, burns the Defiance logo.]
[Silence.]
#...fuck you I won’t do what you tell me...#
[The logo on the giant screen and your regular-sized screen at home explodes like an atom splitting in half.]
#Fuck You I Won’t Do What You Tell Me#
[Massive pyros and fireworks singe the roof and illuminate the thousands in attendance.]
[!FLASHCUT!]
[The epic return of Christian Light to the ring takes over the massive, video-fun machine. The crowd erupts ballistically because of it.]
# FUCK YOU I WON’T DO WHAT YOU TELL ME #
[!FLASHCUT!]
[Eugene Dewey seemingly overcoming insurmountable odds, always, is next in the montage. The exuberant fans continue on a steady roar, only to be drowned out when Rage Against the Machine comes blasting over the PA again.]
# FUCK YOU I WON’T DO WHAT YOU TELL ME #
[After Dewey get his spot to shine, the darker side of things take over.]
[Evolution League.]
[!FLASHCUT!]
[Jack Bryant, up to his usual tricks, throwing lariats and winning matches against people he had no business winning matches against. The native Alabamian destroyed Mike Sloan with the Mason-Dixon Line just last week!]
#MOTHERFUCKERRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!#
[!FLASHCUT!]
[Dan Ryan is next, with his nonchalant attitude on full display. The crowd turned upside-down to show their disdain for the former multi-time World Champion.]
[Somewhere in the building Dan didn’t care, probably because he’s Dan freakin’ Ryan and he doesn’t have to care.]
#UGHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#
[!FLASHCUT!]
[Lastly, the ever so devious Alceo Dentari, head-kicking his way through the competition on his way to being the one who could finally rid DEFIANCE of Bronson Box and his reign of terror.]
[Even so, you could imagine his lauded ovation.]
[Alceo fades off screen, revealing a rotating ladder and more Fourth of July pyrotechnics.]
[The place erupts once again as the feed jumps to Angus Skaaland sitting all by his lonesome inside of the DEFIANCE Commentation Station.]
Angus:
WEEEEE ARRRRRRRRRRE LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE TONIGHT IN SIN CITY, NEVADA! We’ve got eight-zillion fans SUPER NO VACANCY jampacked into the MGM Grande arena, and I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt that TONIGHT will be THE NIGHT that DEFIANCE steps into the forefront of the wrestling industry!
[Wait for it.]
Angus:
...Again! HA! See what I did there?!
[With Jeff Andrews nowhere in sight, there’s no one to keep Angus on a leash.]
Angus:
It’s been a long, arduous road to get to where we are tonight, but fuck me if we’re not sitting here in PRIMETIME on ESEN TV getting ready to BUTT-fuck this industry into submission, NOHOMOSTYLE MUHFUKEEZE!
We’ve got Inter-League matches all up and down the lineup, and we’re capping it off with an anything goes Elimination Style Tables, Ladders, and Chairs match where there’s fifteen points hanging from the rafters and five points on the line for every possible elimination!
We’ve got it all tonight, folks, well, we’ve got it all except for my esteemed colleague, as the Sultan of Surly decided he needed to go scout for a couple of longnecks just before the show went live. Well, I’m kind of an aye-hole, so I had a camera crew follow his stocky ass, let’s see just what the ol’ codger is up to right now when he should be up here doing all this work so I don’t have to!
God, I miss Cito sometimes....
[Cut.]
=-=-=
[Cut to the backstage area, where we see Jeff Andrews walking down a hallway. He is surly in appearance, and is wearing his green and yellow John Deere trucker’s cap on his head.]
[Then, an elderly gentleman wearing a three piece butler-esque suit, with two stripes of gray masquerading as a haircut, approaches the Surly Bird and hands him some papers.]
Elderly Gent:
Excuse me, Mr. Andrews... you’ve been served.
[Jeff Andrews stops walking. He blinks.]
Jeff Andrews: [grabbing the papers]
LEMME SEE THAT.
[He feverishly scowls at the papers, trying to find who the complainant is.]
Jeff Andrews: [eyes growing wider by the second]
What the hell. Is this some sort of stupid fucking joke?
Elderly Gent:
I’m afraid it’s not sir.
Jeff Andrews:
This cowardly sonofafuck.
[Jeff tries to spike the papers onto the floor. Being made of paper, they don’t spike, and flutter around his ankles instead. He kicks at them, and storms off.]
Elderly Gent: [from a distance]
Ahhhh, Mr. Andrews... I’m also supposed to tell you that Cancer Jiles is here.
[Jeff stops dead in his tracks. He clenches both of his fists, and slowly turns around staring a hole through the poor bastard who served him.]
Jeff Andrews:
Come again?
Elderly Gent: [moving closer]
I said, Mr. Jiles is here. In this building. Right now.
[The surly escapes its nest, and Jeff lunges forward grabbing the old man by the collar of his shirt. He pulls the old fart close, and with his most serious of tone, whispers.]
Jeff Andrews:
Where?
Elderly Gent:
Before I tell you where you can find him, you should that there was a complication with Cancer’s surgery. And before you go off wanting to pound his face into oblivion, I should tell you that it’s in your best interest not to.
That being said, he’s down in locker room 106. It’s heavily guarded, but Cancer is expecting you.
[Jeff didn’t catch the last point. He had already shot off like a bottle rocket in his search for locker room 106.]
[The office of Elijah Goldman.]
[Elijah Goldman at all times has an appearance that could be described as ratlike, but it’s more pronounced than usual right now. His eyes are dark and shiny behind his glasses and they dart in every direction, and the tip of his nose is flushed and almost looks like it’s twitching. His forehead glistens with sweat.]
[The office is perfect. The desk is spotless except for a mahogany, gold and navy blue velvet embossed pen holder sporting a pair of $60 pens, there are potted plants on the file cabinets and a little American flag hanging next to the window.]
[Yoshikazu YAZ leans against the wall, his arms folded. His expression is lost behind his mask.]
[Lisa Loeh sits cross legged on the edge of the desk. It’s very film noir. She has nice legs and her little black miniskirt doesn’t cover any of them. She looks bored and irritated, and as Goldman bustles around the office, fixing that and reading the other, she occasionally glances at his back in cold contempt.]
[Then there’s a knock at the door.]
[At a glance from Goldman, YAZ walks over and opens it.]
Kai Scott:
Word up, yo?
Elijah Goldman:
Come right on in, Mr. Scott, I’ve been waiting to talk to you for a long time.
[Goldman pulls up a chair, a cushy padded one, for Kai to sit down on. YAZ steps back and leans against the wall.]
Elijah Goldman:
Lisa, get Mr. Scott a drink. Kai, do you like scotch? Dewars or Johnny Walker?
Kai Scott:
Thanks, but I don’t drink anymore.
[Goldman claps his hands together.]
Elijah Goldman:
Excellent. The more I know about you, the more I respect you. And you know, that’s actually why I asked you to come here and talk to me.
[Kai settles into the chair, places his crutch lengthwise across his lap.]
Kai Scott:
So why did you ask me to come talk to you?
Elijah Goldman:
To be frank... I’d like for us to work together.
Kai Scott:
What do you think I can do to help you?
Elijah Goldman:
...Lisa, pour me a drink.
[Lisa Loeh takes a bottle of Dewar’s 18 Years Old off a shelf and pours it into a glass. Goldman takes a swallow, and then a deep breath.]
Elijah Goldman:
Much as it pains me to admit it, I don’t have wrestling as figured out as I thought I did. My master plan to control Bronson Box against everything Eric Dane wanted to do didn’t play out the way it was supposed to. Dane stymied Box handily by playing a wrestler who didn’t care about the points or the tournament against him.
Kai Scott:
I see.
Elijah Goldman:
I don’t have the wrestling connections that Dane does, nor do I have my finger on the pulse of the business the way he does. And I need someone who can do that to work for me. Cito Conarri wouldn’t give me the time of day. Jeff Andrews, even if he’s as smart as Dane claims, which I personally haven’t seen...
[Kai frowns.]
Elijah Goldman:
Sorry. Forgot he was a friend of yours. But at any rate, I don’t really understand wrestling. And you do.
Kai Scott:
...Since you admit you don’t understand wrestling, here’s some advice for going forward. If you want to get on someone’s good side, it’s best to do them a free favor beforehand, rather than the opposite.
[Sweat beads on Goldman’s forehead, and he pulls out a handkerchief and dabs at it.]
Elijah Goldman:
I do apologize for the situation with Claira and the TLC match, but I didn’t have time to book or hold a rubber match in Evolution League and I couldn’t let Heritage send an extra wrestler. My hands were tied. Again, I apologize, but...
Kai Scott:
Jonny Booya isn’t booked very high on the card either.
[Elijah fidgets in his seat and stammers something unintelligible.]
Lisa Loeh:
You know, if you’re willing to work with us, we can make sure that Jonny never gets overlooked again.
[Kai stands up.]
[Goldman shrinks back and YAZ takes a step forward.]
Kai Scott:
What, precisely, do I gain from playing backstage chess with Eric Dane? Money? Preferable treatment?
[Goldman looks at Lisa. She looks at Kai and raises her eyebrows.]
Kai Scott:
The truth, Mr. Goldman, is that I’m sick and tired of that game. I’ve won, repeatedly, I don’t need the self-gratification that winning again would bring me. I’m not going to work for you, for the same reason that I haven’t agreed to work for Eric Dane for Jeff’s sake - or decided to help Heidi make you sorry for the way you’ve treated her.
Elijah Goldman:
...why?
Kai Scottt:
Because I’ve been the King, and I almost died on the throne.
[Tucking his crutch under his arm, Kai turns to leave. He limps to the door, then stops and looks over his shoulder.]
Kai Scott:
If it makes you feel any better, my loyalty is to the Truly Untouchables. If Jonny Booya makes it to the final round of the tournament, I’m going to try and make sure he wins. So if you want my cooperation, the best - and only - thing you can do is to treat my wrestler fairly.
[Kai steps out of the office, shutting the door behind him.]
[E-Gold slumps forward, head in his hands.]
Elijah Goldman:
That didn’t go well. At all.
Lisah Loeh:
It could’ve been worse. He told us enough to work with at least.
[Pushing himself up, E-Gold looks at the young woman]
Elijah Goldman:
What do you mean?
Lisa Loeh:
I have a wrestler to manage, I can’t just tell you. Look, just get me as much information on Jonathan Andrews as you possibly can and we’ll start from there.
Elijah Goldman:
Who’s Jon Andrews?
Lisa Loeh:
Jonathan Andrews is Jonny Booya’s real name. Gawd. Just listen to me.
[Lisa stalks out of the room. Goldman sighs, then looks at YAZ.]
Elijah Goldman:
Are you going to call me stupid too?
Yoshikazu YAZ:
...I don’t really think that’s necessary.
[He leaves the room too.]
[Goldman fumes, but he doesn’t have anything better to do, and so after a minute or so he takes out his laptop. Some clicking and typing ensues.]
Elijah Goldman:
Jonathan Andrews, better known by his stage names Jonny Bravo, LAREDO, and Jonny Booya, made his professional wrestling debut in 2004...
[Nothing left to see here. Fade.]
=-=-=
[Defiance Wrestling continues in...]
5....
4....
3...
2..
1.
[The MGM Grand Arena arena goes pitch_black, causing the sold-out crowd inside to vault to their feet with feverish anticipation.]
[Up on the DEFIAtron, burns the Defiance logo.]
[Silence.]
#...fuck you I won’t do what you tell me...#
[The logo on the giant screen and your regular-sized screen at home explodes like an atom splitting in half.]
#Fuck You I Won’t Do What You Tell Me#
[Massive pyros and fireworks singe the roof and illuminate the thousands in attendance.]
[!FLASHCUT!]
[The epic return of Christian Light to the ring takes over the massive, video-fun machine. The crowd erupts ballistically because of it.]
# FUCK YOU I WON’T DO WHAT YOU TELL ME #
[!FLASHCUT!]
[Eugene Dewey seemingly overcoming insurmountable odds, always, is next in the montage. The exuberant fans continue on a steady roar, only to be drowned out when Rage Against the Machine comes blasting over the PA again.]
# FUCK YOU I WON’T DO WHAT YOU TELL ME #
[After Dewey get his spot to shine, the darker side of things take over.]
[Evolution League.]
[!FLASHCUT!]
[Jack Bryant, up to his usual tricks, throwing lariats and winning matches against people he had no business winning matches against. The native Alabamian destroyed Mike Sloan with the Mason-Dixon Line just last week!]
#MOTHERFUCKERRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!#
[!FLASHCUT!]
[Dan Ryan is next, with his nonchalant attitude on full display. The crowd turned upside-down to show their disdain for the former multi-time World Champion.]
[Somewhere in the building Dan didn’t care, probably because he’s Dan freakin’ Ryan and he doesn’t have to care.]
#UGHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#
[!FLASHCUT!]
[Lastly, the ever so devious Alceo Dentari, head-kicking his way through the competition on his way to being the one who could finally rid DEFIANCE of Bronson Box and his reign of terror.]
[Even so, you could imagine his lauded ovation.]
[Alceo fades off screen, revealing a rotating ladder and more Fourth of July pyrotechnics.]
[The place erupts once again as the feed jumps to Angus Skaaland sitting all by his lonesome inside of the DEFIANCE Commentation Station.]
Angus:
WEEEEE ARRRRRRRRRRE LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE TONIGHT IN SIN CITY, NEVADA! We’ve got eight-zillion fans SUPER NO VACANCY jampacked into the MGM Grande arena, and I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt that TONIGHT will be THE NIGHT that DEFIANCE steps into the forefront of the wrestling industry!
[Wait for it.]
Angus:
...Again! HA! See what I did there?!
[With Jeff Andrews nowhere in sight, there’s no one to keep Angus on a leash.]
Angus:
It’s been a long, arduous road to get to where we are tonight, but fuck me if we’re not sitting here in PRIMETIME on ESEN TV getting ready to BUTT-fuck this industry into submission, NOHOMOSTYLE MUHFUKEEZE!
We’ve got Inter-League matches all up and down the lineup, and we’re capping it off with an anything goes Elimination Style Tables, Ladders, and Chairs match where there’s fifteen points hanging from the rafters and five points on the line for every possible elimination!
We’ve got it all tonight, folks, well, we’ve got it all except for my esteemed colleague, as the Sultan of Surly decided he needed to go scout for a couple of longnecks just before the show went live. Well, I’m kind of an aye-hole, so I had a camera crew follow his stocky ass, let’s see just what the ol’ codger is up to right now when he should be up here doing all this work so I don’t have to!
God, I miss Cito sometimes....
[Cut.]
=-=-=
[Cut to the backstage area, where we see Jeff Andrews walking down a hallway. He is surly in appearance, and is wearing his green and yellow John Deere trucker’s cap on his head.]
[Then, an elderly gentleman wearing a three piece butler-esque suit, with two stripes of gray masquerading as a haircut, approaches the Surly Bird and hands him some papers.]
Elderly Gent:
Excuse me, Mr. Andrews... you’ve been served.
[Jeff Andrews stops walking. He blinks.]
Jeff Andrews: [grabbing the papers]
LEMME SEE THAT.
[He feverishly scowls at the papers, trying to find who the complainant is.]
Jeff Andrews: [eyes growing wider by the second]
What the hell. Is this some sort of stupid fucking joke?
Elderly Gent:
I’m afraid it’s not sir.
Jeff Andrews:
This cowardly sonofafuck.
[Jeff tries to spike the papers onto the floor. Being made of paper, they don’t spike, and flutter around his ankles instead. He kicks at them, and storms off.]
Elderly Gent: [from a distance]
Ahhhh, Mr. Andrews... I’m also supposed to tell you that Cancer Jiles is here.
[Jeff stops dead in his tracks. He clenches both of his fists, and slowly turns around staring a hole through the poor bastard who served him.]
Jeff Andrews:
Come again?
Elderly Gent: [moving closer]
I said, Mr. Jiles is here. In this building. Right now.
[The surly escapes its nest, and Jeff lunges forward grabbing the old man by the collar of his shirt. He pulls the old fart close, and with his most serious of tone, whispers.]
Jeff Andrews:
Where?
Elderly Gent:
Before I tell you where you can find him, you should that there was a complication with Cancer’s surgery. And before you go off wanting to pound his face into oblivion, I should tell you that it’s in your best interest not to.
That being said, he’s down in locker room 106. It’s heavily guarded, but Cancer is expecting you.
[Jeff didn’t catch the last point. He had already shot off like a bottle rocket in his search for locker room 106.]