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Message Sent

The Minstrel

League Member
Mar 6, 2012
[Backstage, following his first round match, “The Aftermath” John McDonough is headed down a hallway with Shane on his right. The facepaint on the right side of his face has started to peel away ever so slightly and he is covered in perspiration. His strides are purposeful.]

[Shane appears to be a little more enthused as he follows slight behind John and to his right, he wears a white t-shirt and jeans. He struggles to keep up with him as John moves quickly.]

“What? No celebration?”

[Even with John’s stern appearance, he cracks a sly grin.]

John: Why would I? I haven’t won anything yet.

[Shane rolls his eyes.]

Shane: C’mon, you just won the match, would it kill you to enjoy it a little bit? Soak it in…

Drink it up.

[Shane says with a leading comment causing John to turn his head while he continues his pace.]

John: There is no time for that right now – I’ve got Harmen next and he’s not here for s---s and giggles like she was. You have the footage we need, right?

[Shane nods, but his tone is reluctant.]

Shane: Yes.

[John notices his disappointed appearance and turns to face him while stopping in front of a door.]

John: We’ll grab some beers on the way back home to enjoy while we watch.

[Music to Shane’s ears – he smiles and opens the door to the locker room.]

Shane: Sounds…

[Chaos has unfolded in the locker room, a number of lockers are tossed about the room, a bench lies broken with a locker having crashed through it. Shane cautiously steps into the room and John follows.]

Shane: What the f--- happened here? You think this was Harmen?

[John shakes his head.]

John: I don’t know… I don’t think so – not really his style, no?

[After a cautious moment of making certain they were alone, they survey the room.]

Shane: Look!

[He points to the far wall where, in black spray paint, it reads:]


[Shane’s hand remains raised pointing at the letters, John steps passed him and puts Shane’s arm down as he gets closer to examine it. After a moment, just eyeing the lettering – the way it is situated – John turns around and speaks without hesitation.]

John: Well, I guess he was too chickens--- to make himself present at the ring.

[John says forcefully, seemingly challenging the mystery man. Shane remains speechless.]

John: C’mon, let’s get out of here and alert security. We’ve got work to do.

[As he says this he places his hand on Shane’s shoulder and leads him out. As John exits he grabs the doorknob and before exiting takes one last look back at the foreboding writing on the wall – a look of concern passes his face before he takes a deep breath.]

John: Oh boy…

[The door closes.]

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