Ladies and gentlemen please feast your eyes on an up close shot of that b-e-a-utiful SHOOT Project Premier gold.  Now, Mr. Cameraman, zoom out, but slowly, so that we can see the man who’s wearing it.  Wearing it proudly, as it should be added, because the shine in ya boi’s eyes and the sparkle of his white smile cause the Epicenter crowd to get LIT! That’s right folks, Black Sheep Baez is in…the…house!

Is he a proud champion? Why wouldn’t he be?  He’s adoring and admiring the belt he’s got snapped around his waist.  Your Premier campeón is traversing one of the many arteries of the Epicenter, wearing a sleeveless t-shirt for The Residents’ Rock Electronic Tour of ’74, and he’s moving his shoulders in circular motions to stay limber.  There’s a lot on the champs mind but his focus is suddenly broken when, as the camera pans over, he’s met by the woman he submitted at Revolution 148.  Oh boy! Laura Seton is just a few yards ahead.

Saying that the tension is unnoticeable would be an absolute lie.  Well, maybe not from Baez, and that’s because he’s super vibin’ still from his victory two weeks ago.  BSB hides the fact he’s got his guard up behind his welcoming smile and friendly demeanor.  

Black Sheep Baez: Ya know your still a ten even though the look on ya face makes me feel like you’bout to summon some Scarlet Witch style whoop ass on ya boi.

Her blonde hair down, she realized she may have had a scowl.  It wasn’t unusual for Laura to see gold around someone else’s waist and develop even minor jealousy… but she didn’t *feel* jealous.  Baez was no slouch and he, indeed, gave a warrior’s effort in order to knock her off.  In this case?  He earned her respect.  

Laura Seton: You pull anything fast on me?  Muchos problemos para ti.  Play it cool?

She gives a warm smile.

Laura Seton: Nosotros buenos.

Whoa, at least that’s how ya boi feels as he leans back kinda like Neegan from The Walking Dead with a similar smirk.

Black Sheep Baez: ¡A huevo! Love that.  A killer Queen.  Yo, straight up respect.  I don’t do that shit.  Ain’t one for doin the unannounced shankin’.  I’ll let ya know when imma slay.  Respect is key for ya boi.  You most def earned mine.  Girrrrl we was about to straight murder each other in that ring. On GOD.  If ya sis anything like you? Yeee, ya boi may need to get ready for survival mode.  Bet.

Laura Seton: I’ll be real with you: I don’t know enough about her–As a wrestler.  No creo ella entiende bien.  I respect the heck out of you.  Believe me, in all my years, I can probably count on uno mano the amount of challenges like yours.  Maddie doesn’t know what’s coming, but?  Neither do you.  Not a diss.  Just reality.

It’s evident by ya boi’s face that the word reality means something to him, but it’s a concept he’s somewhat forgotten.  There’s that look on his face: wide eyes, an uncertain smirk, and a slow but understanding nod.

Black Sheep Baez: No cap?  I appreciate real.  If ya haven’t noticed bein real is what makes Black Sheep Baez that challenge and brings the smoke.  S’all good.  I’ll find out tonight what to look forward to.  It’ll bring me back to reality.  Ya boi been babyin’ this belt and we both know that it ain’t stayin around my waist forever.  It may be you? It may be ya sis?  Who knows?  Todo lo que sé es que cuando se trata de eso, no voy a caer hasta que esa persona me noquee. On God.

Laura Seton: You keep up the success?  You’ve got a future.  Just keep any kind of ego in control.  That ever gets out of hand?  That’ll be your downfall.  Good luck, senor.

Damn, talk about a friendly little dagger, but that’s some ice cold truth.  BSB knows she’s right, and his eyes follow her as she leaves the scene.  Ego?  He’s scratching his chin because that’s another problem he’s yet to address.  Al knows his audience, and he looks directly into the camera.

Black Sheep Baez: What do you think? Ya boi thinks she’s right.  I gotta keep myself on check, ya feels me?

She is definitely right, and he taps the side of his head because he needs to think about his presentation.  Baez steps out of the frame as the shot fades.

Voice: It’s okay to cheat every once in a while!

Voice2: CHEATING IS BAD! I’M MAGNANIMOUS!

A SHOOT Project camera spins around to find Chick Grillbreast and Daihm Ferguson exiting Chick’s dressing room for the evening as Maria Madden quickly approaches the pair. She is head-to-toe in pastel pink.

Maria Madden: CHICK! DAIHM! Oh my god. So great to see you.

Chick Grillbreast: Dan Dragon, who is this woman who looks like my diarrhea medicine!?

Daihm slaps his forehead.

Daihm Ferguson: I apologize for him, Maria … but Chick is still catching up on episodes of REIGN. What can we do for you?

Maria smiles brightly.

Maria Madden: Well, I’m sure you know that you are the new “IT” couple in SHOOT right now and Spitter is just going wild over you both.

Daihm’s face contorts.

Daihm Ferguson: It… couple?

Maria Madden: Don’t tell me you don’t know! It’s the summer of odd couples and you two are just… I mean…let’s just say move over Barbenheimer and say hello to Ferguchick! Or, should I say Daihmbreast?

Chick shakes his head violently.

Chick Grillbreast: Quit trying to confuse me with new words! What are you saying!?

Daihm places a hand on Chick’s shoulder to calm him down.

Daihm Ferguson: Maria, I appreciate your interest but Chick and I – we’re not… ya know?

Maria takes a step back and looks at the two of them together. Daihm’s face is now beet red while Chick is looking off in the distance at a moth that has found its way into the Epicenter. She smiles again and nods with a wink.

Maria Madden: Of course, of course. I understand that these things are sensitive and personal. But I hope you know that there are a lot of us Daihmbreast stans out there rooting for you both!

Daihm looks down, embarrassed.

Maria Madden: And, Chick! Anything you want to say before your match tonight with Mushigahara?

Chick Grillbreast: Mushigihara? YOU MEAN THE SUMO GUY WHO BEAT ME IN MASTER OF THE MAT? HE MAKES ME… SO…. MAD!

Chick punches a locker so hard that it turns into a bunch of rings, Sonic the Hedgehog style. We don’t know how it happened either, folks.

Daihm Ferguson: Okay well! That’s … great! We really need to get Chick down to the ring though. It was great seeing you Maria. Good luck on REIGN!

Daihm begins to push Chick in the direction of the ring.

Chick Grillbreast: JUST NOT ON A WEDDING DAY! That woman Alantis Morbius warned us!

Maria Madden looks slightly confused but then begins to nod enthusiastically.

Maria Madden: I’m sure we’ll be hearing wedding bells soon, you two! Good luck out there Chick!

Chick Grillbreast: Thank you, diarrhea! You’re a kind lady!

The cameras go inside the locker room of Lexi Gold. It is dim inside and the only light shown is from some candles lined up on the ground. Lexi is seen crouching down in the corner of the room, clutching her doll against her chest as she stares into space, unaware of what she might be thinking. 

A gust of wind shifts the flames because her locker room door has opened and in walks the SHOOT Project Premier champion, Black Sheep Baez.  (Bet you were waiting for a ya boi reference.) Nothing has changed about Baez’s appearance since his interaction with Laura Seton earlier in the evening, albeit he seems to be a bit more conscious of his surroundings. He’s had his fair share of run-ins lately.  There’s something odd about this visit, and BSB studies the room with an estranged eye.  

Black Sheep Baez: Yyyo, Lex Express, you gucci? Kinda given ya boi the feelin we about to summon some kinda insidious shenanigans.  What’s good homie?  What can ya Sheepy boi do to get a smile back on that pretty face? They got some super delicious chai tea lattes in caterin and some kinda cracka dish with a weird cheese and that ham I can never pronounce.  Brushmenudo? Bruhchewduh? Meat.

Lexi slowly walks up to him, showing no kind of expression on her face toward him, blinking her eyes slowly as she continues on with her odd behavior. 

Lexi Gold: You are insinuating that I like those things, yet you know nothing about me. On top of that, you burst into my locker room happy, full of joy. Do you realize what is about to happen regarding our match out there? 

Those beautiful blue eyes of Baez widen slowly because he’s taken aback by this version of Lexi Gold.  He gazes around the dimly lit room sifting through words in his head with his hand on his chest as if he’s awe struck.

Black Sheep Baez: Hoooold up, whoa, wow, damn, yeowza, comin’ in spiiiiiicy.  Does a menu insinuate? Ya boi was just sharin some options, that’s all.  Plus, I fuckin love chai tea lattes, hot diggity dayum they tasty.  Buuuut, you right.  I don’t know you.  Not that well.  Ain’t gonna debate that.  Always wanted to get to know you, and ya boi is always happy.  I try to be. Would love to spread that joy as much as possible.  I appreciate you.  You were one of the rare few that welcomed me into SHOOT with open arms.  Can’t take that history away.  It’s cherished.

His delivery is genuine and his tone is different then the normal street spittin’.  He’s genuinely concerned about Lexi’s welfare.  But, the champ points toward the door to give Lexi a bit of context for his sudden entrance.

Black Sheep Baez: And, ya door was like a little cracked open.  I seent a lil smoke so I was curious as to what might be bakin’ up in hurr. Ya boi is just concerned, that’s all Lex.  For ya well bein.  You’re my teammate tonight.  I trust you.  I understand trust is hard to come by in the Epicenter, but fear you not: ya boi has your back.  But, um, I gotta touch on that question.  Whatchu mean do I know what’s about to happen out there?  Ya daaaaaamn right I know what’s about to happen.  Ya boi, Black Sheep Baez, Premier Campeón, and ya girl, the Golden Goddess, Lexi Gold, we about to go show Jack Johnson and Maddie Seton WHAT…IS…UP! Give me a HAWT damn HALLELUJAH! 

The Premier Champion wants a little love for that positive promotion so he’s suggesting they go for a bro-five.  He’ll probably want to modify it with a bunch of hand tugs and finger snaps that will more than likely be foreign to her.  Just his hand floating in the air is foreign to her, and she blankly stares at him.  

She sighs and puts his hand down, then lowers her head.

Lexi Gold: There will be no Hallelujah or any type of celebration afterward because I will continue to be a walking failure and fail you as a partner. I know you will try to give me a speech and tell me I’m wrong, but truth be told, I’m not. Everyone has been seeing my downward spiral, so why can’t you?

She looks down at the doll and runs a hand through its hair.

Lexi Gold: Are you ready to speak to me now, grandma, or are you going to play the silent game still?

…..

Lexi’s emotions take over more as she throws the doll against the wall. She covers her mouth in shock, realizes what she has done as she runs up to check on the doll on the ground and starts crying over her actions.

It’s obvious that Black Sheep’s concern is growing into worry.  The idea of failure seems to be driving Lexi into a state of psychosocial stupor.  Baez is doing his best to make sense of it all, but the look on his face is more bewilderment than shock.

Black Sheep Baez: Yo, yea, so, um, yee. Ya kinda didn’t beat around the bush there did ya?  Mos’def wanted to say whatever ya boi could to turn that frown upside down, but damn.  Damn.  

This may be more than BSB bargained for as he wipes his forehead and scratches his bald scalp while closely watching Lexi struggle with her doll on the floor.

Black Sheep Baez: You just do you, but you ain’t no failure.  Ain’t no shame in change, and we all a little different, so if this is how you cope then Imma let you cope.  Imma let you cope.

Yea, he probably should, because at some point a person starts to realize that talking too much may cause more harm than heal.  Baez’s next step is to turn toward the door.  This may be just a tad too freaky for young Sheepy baby.  He peers over his shoulder at his broken teammate.

Black Sheep Baez: I’ve got faith in you bae.  Mad faith.  No matter the outcome tonight: you won’t let me down.  Tell grams I said ‘what up girl!’

He truly wants to believe what he’s saying, but his last exclamation seems off.  Ya boi slaps the gold faceplate of his title belt and leaves the room.  

She watches him leave out of the corner of her eye and wipes her tears with her sleeve, then grabs her doll off the ground and wraps it in a blanket before getting up and walking to the bathroom. 

Real Deal: Thanks for actually talking face-to-face.  Talent Relations doesn’t much care for your attorney.

Seated across from the big man, both chairs are occupied.  One is a resting place for the World Heavyweight Championship–the other holds the burly form of Natye Robideau, relaxing in what has been his version of couture off the clock gear.  While he’s always had a taste for sweatsuits, he’s now wearing high-value ones.  He’s traded in his Wal-Mart cross trainers for Off White High Tops.  He has the cost of an automobile on his wrist.  And right now he’s smiling, nodding his head in agreement. 

Robideau: Highwalking?  You’ll have to forgive ole Dr. Eugene, he used to prosecute criminal cases.  Guess he never got rid of all his fire.  But no, I thought face-to-face would be better.  Especially given the concerns I have moving forward. 

Real Deal: Concerns?  Do tell. 

The boss eyes him quizzically, doubly so when he stands up and begins pacing, but he doesn’t belie what his thoughts are.  You don;t get to where Josh Johnson is without a keen eye and a tendency to hold your cards close to the vest–inscrutability is a business strategy as much as it’s anything else. 

Robideau: Look, let us speak plainly.  I’m the top dog around here.  Merchandising, gate numbers, pure domination inside the ring–There’s probably not been a champion as definitive as myself in, well…

At this, Nate walks over to a larger photo on the wall.  It shows Johnson in his youth–beardless, cut from marble, glistening–raising the championship above his head after a victory. 

Robideau: …a long time.  And this isn’t a talk about compensation, far from it.  You and the office are exceedingly fair and generous.  Not just with me, I should point out.  All of us have zero complaints.  But as your face of the company, as your crown jewel, I’m being…threatened.  I’m sure you’ve noticed.

He strides back over, tapping the boss’ desk. 

Robideau: Look, I tend to run hot out there, I admit.  That’s the fighter’s instinct, and that same passion has made me so successful.  But what that old psychopath is playing at–mailing me his teeth, threatening me in the ring?  At that point, it’s going a bit too far.  He lost.  He needs to accept that with humility.  Frankly, I don’t know what he’s going to try next, and that’s got me on edge.  And I’d appreciate it if you’d do a little protecting of your investment. 

Johnson interlaces his fingers, his mouth stern.  Emotionless.  Nodding a few times, he exhales slowly before speaking.

Real Deal: Okay.  Let’s review.

He leans back, not bothering to stand.  

Real Deal: You’ve injured I don’t know how much top talent, along with the co-owner of the company and his family.  And I turn a bit of a blind eye to it because, you aren’t wrong–people sure do love tuning in to see if you can finally get what’s coming to you.  And you know what?  If the returns for the last shows are to be believed, they especially love seeing you running scared, Nate. 

At this, the champion bristles, his mood darkening considerably. 

Robideau: I don’t appreciate your tone. 

Real Deal: You don’t care about my tone–you don’t appreciate my words.  And I don’t appreciate you coming to me and begging me for…what, exactly?  To suspend Azraith DeMitri?  Do you really think that he’s going to respect an official suspension?  You advertise for your gym on this program.  He’ll find you if he has a mind to.  You kicked this hornet’s nest–deal with the stings.

Robideau: So you’re refusing to do anything. 

Johnson chuckles, tapping a stack of papers on his desk.

Real Deal: No, far from it.  I can book you two to face one another, probably about the only thing that’d stop him, and–

Robideau: Not interested. 

This deflates whatever the boss was going to say.  He studies Nate for a while, trying to see if he’s being sincere. 

Real Deal: You’re serious.

Robideau: You hear me laughing?

Real Deal:  Didn’t assume I’d hear a whole lot of fear coming from the great Nate Rob–

Robideau: Fear doesn’t play into it, boss.  I beat him, solid, middle of the ring, fair and square.  And not a flash win, either–that was a war, and it’s a war I fucking won.  Now I should be able to take that win, add it to the considerable pile, and move on to a fresh matchup that the people actually want to see. 

Real Deal: Yeah?  Against who? 

Nate gathers his title and shrugs. 

Robideau: I haven’t determined that yet.  But not him.  So let him know to stay the hell away from me.  The ship where Azraith DeMitri gets a chance at my belt has left the port. 

With that, he puts on sunglasses inside and struts out of the office, slamming the door harder than necessary.  Johnson stands up, shaking his head in what is either disappointment or shock at the gall of his top champion.  As he walks to the window to surveil the landscape of Vegas, we cut away.  

She stood, poking her head consistently around the corner in the back halls of the Epicenter.  It was almost to the point of annoying, even for her.  With every set of footsteps or a door closing, Laura Seton would poke her head around and await for one specific SHOOT member.

And finally Lexi Gold appears.

Laura gets a look of relief as she smiles.  She turns the corner and calls out as she walks towards her target.

Laura Seton: Lexi!  Hold up a sec!

Lexi turns around upon hearing the familiar voice of Laura Seton and sighs, not sharing the same enthusiasm as her, and recalling flashback of their past. 

Lexi Gold: Oh uh hey Laura. Is there something I can do for you?  

Laura Seton: Yeah, uh… look… um…

She felt a bit off being in Lexi’s presence, but she knew things couldn’t stay as they had.

Laura Seton: Things got kind of out of hand between us and I went too far.  You can stick up for yourself and I can go on for an hour.  Look, I’m sorry, Lexi.

Lexi ignores what she said and turns her back to Laura, humming a nursery song to herself before she speaks. 

Lexi Gold: I think you are waiting to stab me in the back again instead. Go ahead and do it now before the match takes place… 

Laura gets an uneasy look with a deep breath.

Laura Seton: All right.  I deserve that.  I know you can be… reactive, but please?  At least think it over?

Lexi continues to stand there, realizing Laura wasn’t doing anything, so she grows frustrated at turns around and sighs.

Lexi Gold: I’m pretty sure you know my answer already, and that is no. Besides, you broke me just as much as I have broken myself, so I’m no good for you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a match that will see me lose again. 

She turns on her heel and lowers her head as she walks away.

Had enough of ya boi yet?  Well, saddle up partners because you’re about to witness another segment involving Black Sheep Baez.  We’re getting pretty close to the main event so the Buffalo Soldier is backstage tugging on resistance bands and poppin’ those biceps.  There’s a lot on ya boi’s mind and those resistance bands are of no threat to his upper body strength.  Sweat profusely drips off his forehead and veins bulge.

You better believe he’s wearing that SHOOT Project Premier championship.

His tempo changes from moderate to excessive as he continues to curl the bands down and up, down and up, and then the camera rolls back and pans to the left.  Baez slows because he feels the presence of someone about to confront him.  He doesn’t want to look up and allows the sweat to drip like a leaky faucet.  He’s breathing heavily, and he knows who it is.  

It’s Madison Seton, and she’s got a sure smile from ear to ear.  Baez smirks and finally greets the Premier champion number one contender through a sweaty glaze.

Black Sheep Baez: Ooooh yeeee, you ready.  I can FEEL it.  You got that energy.  That swagger. The vibe is for real life. You got that “I just did the sucia sucia con tu amigo con derechos” and not finna lie chica but ya better belee that ya boi ain’t gotta problemo with any of that electricidad.  I’m so hype for this match and it don’t even botha me that Lexi may be gettin cray cray.

Madison Seton: What me and Jack may–or may not–have—esta no importa.  Mira–yo tengo mucho respeto para ti.  I am DYING to face you for–

She points at the title.

Madison Seton: –that!  Pero, I can live with facing you tonight as is.  I got mi novio, and I get to see what this Lexi Gold is about… y mi tamalito.

She gives a respectful grin his way. 

Black Sheep Baez: You really like that word, huh?  

She sure does, and she nods while still brandishing a grin.  Baez pauses for a moment to wipe sweat from his brow, and then he pats the faceplate of the Premier title.

Black Sheep Baez: Let’s speak some facts.  You seem pretty smart, and we all know ya successful.  I know how much this opportunity means to you.  This is ya chase.  This is the moment Maddie Seton has dreamed of.  A chance to finally seek gold and, perhaps, a reason to hang up the forces and keep the boots laced.  We get a chance to preview what the fans all wanna see.  Ya boi, and future mamasita, doin’ the ring tango tonight! 

Black Sheep Baez: But, I gotta be real witchu, and no disrespect, yet what if this chase only leads to morning sickness?  What if, after all ya hard work and determination, ya within fingertip length of strappin’ this belt around ya waist, and that stick shows two pink lines?  I’m just tryna get my grind on, and ya boi prefers to not put ya in danger.  Especially if ya end up havin a bun in the oven. 

Maddie folds her arms across her chest, having a smug grin.

Madison Seton: Someone must’ve only gotten cliffs notes of rumors.  Si, quiero un bebe.  Si, we’re gonna try.  Tu sabes “surrogate?”  I’m Mom.  Jack’s Dad.  But una otra carries bebe.  So if I’m readying for a title match and we get positive news?

Her grin widens.

Madison Seton: I’m gonna be BEYOND motivated and ready as all heck to throw down for a 20-star match.

It’s apparent ya boi isn’t educated on the subject of Seton-Johnson fetal fantasies.  He shrugs his shoulders.

Black Sheep Baez: Ay, whether you’re the baker, or the buyer, I just want any guardian of a child to be safe.  This industry can be hot damn risky for a parent.  Gotta think about the kids, yo.  As luck may have it, and who knows, maybe those kids become you, or ya boi. I know that all too well.  But, real talk, if that motivates you to perform at a preposterous 20 star level then ya boi suggests ya start shinin’ them 20 stars up and get Jiminy Cricket to chirp up a jingle.  I’m a “match if you buck” Borricua.  So, needless ta’say, I like what I hear, and we on the same page.

Black Sheep Baez: Regardless, comai, tonight we show our fans what they pay hot chavos to witness first hand.  Ya wanna know who else gets to witness our legendary battle?  Ya sis.  She ain’t even know.  So, whatcha thinkin’?  Is it time the Seton family finally witness Madie’s comin’ of age?  

Dap? Baez has his fist extended and he nods down toward his knuckles.

Black Sheep Baez: Como va a ser amiga, ya ready to light it up and get that smoke?

She knocks knucks with him.

Madison Seton: We’re all gonna see why Jack’s right.  I’m the better Seton.  The certifiable, verifiable, quantifiable, badass.  Let’s blow this sucker up!

Can you tell she’s motivated?  She’s jacked.  Hype AF.  She quickly exits the scene as the camera pans back to an enthusiastic BSB.

Black Sheep Baez: On God!

And the scene fades as he continues to curl the resistance bands.