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Where's my money, Chad?
Jul 3, 1997
The Silk Road
(FADEIN: PARK SLOPE, BROOKLYN, 3:00pm - a black Mercedes SL 550 pulls up in front of a brownstone apartment building. The sky is full of snow flakes that melt when they hit the ground)

(CUTTO: Inside the apartment building, CASTOR STRIFE stops at one room and knocks at the door. We hear the sound of heels hitting the floor, and in a few seconds the chain is pulled from the lock and the door opens. LUCKY SEVEN is standing on the other side wearing a Brooklyn Nets #2 Kevin Garnett jersey. Her eyes are bloodshot, her hair a mess. She invites him into one-room studio which is a mess of clothes on the floor, a coffee table cluttered with magazines, supplements, and empty Solo cups, and a flat screen TV on the wall above a PS3 console setup. There is a brown cardboard box filled with gold gymnastics medals, and other boxes filled with clothes, books, and various items. On the wall hangs a signed Scott Stevens NJ Devils jersey encased in glass, and posters including two of the Cirque Du Soleil [one featuring herself performing] and one of Castor Strife from NFW 1.0)

SEVEN: "Do the cameras really have to be here?"

CASTOR: "You're a public figure, get used to it. Did you just wake up? You should be leaving for Boston tonight..."

SEVEN: "Yeah, I know. I was about to get ready."

CASTOR: "Don't forget to bring a referee outfit."

SEVEN: "Why do I have to bring that?"

CASTOR: "Because you're the referee!"

SEVEN: "Whaaat?! Which match?"


SEVEN: "Jesus fucking Christ...could anyone have bothered to tell me?"

CASTOR: "Nobody has to tell you, it was posted on the lineup. There is no hand-holding in a professional organization, Laurie."

SEVEN: "Oh I'm sorry. I forgot I wasn't a fucking millionaire with my own staff."

CASTOR: "That's right, you're in charge of yourself. Can you handle that? Alex knows he has a match, right?"

SEVEN: "YES. Did you come here to put me in a bad mood?"

CASTOR: "No, I wanted to check in with you regarding the match. Seeing as though you're the IMPARTIAL referee, it is probably not a bright idea to cut promos on me."

SEVEN: (laughs) "Well then it sucks for you that I'm the ref. 'Cause Alex is winning this match."

CASTOR: (squints eyes) "Are you out of your mind? You're an official, not a LIFELINE. He doesn't get to call you when he's in a bind."

SEVEN: "Relax! I'll be fair."

CASTOR: "I don't want you talking about me on-air, either. We're family, and it makes us look idiotic. There is nothing more important than family, understand? Alex made his bed, and if you want to follow him, go ahead. But do not cross me."

SEVEN: "Of all people I thought you would appreciate us going for the jugular."

CASTOR: "Against ME?"

SEVEN: "Sure. You guys do your thing, and then we all patch up at the end. Who cares?"

CASTOR: (shakes head in bewilderment) "Do you understand how this industry works? Alex is risking everything he has when he steps into that ring with me. This isn't a joke. He no longer has my support, and you need to be prepared for the outcome. This won't end well for him. You, on the other hand, still have my support if I still have yours."

SEVEN: "If you wanna support me, then do me a favor? Write my landlord a check on your way out. My rent is two months past due."

CASTOR: "How much do you owe?"

SEVEN: (smiles) "Four thousand."

(Castor shakes head and pulls a check book from inside his coat)

SEVEN: "Thank you!"

(He hands her the check, but pulls back as soon as she grabs)

CASTOR: "Call it down the middle, understand?"

SEVEN: "Yeah, fine." (grabs the check)

CASTOR: (gets up to leave) "Take that right to your landlord. Clean this fucking place. And one last thing..."

(Seven raises eyebrows)

CASTOR: "If you hear anything about the impostor Stryfe, whether it involves Alex or anyone else, let me know immediately. This is becoming a significant problem."

SEVEN: "No problem. Tell Steel Viper he's a giant pussy. Later!"

(Castor shuts the door; Seven shoves the check longways into an empty UWA coffee mug, and falls back into bed)


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