Previously on Apex Television: Tales of Misdeeds and the Mafia, Drew Archyle and XWF Universal Champion Robert Main were kidnapped by the local Australian mob for get this...stealing a duffel bag full of cash which of course Drew blew on a game of Rugby because yolo. Unsuspectingly the mob wasn't too happy about this and as such are forcing Drew and Robert to work off their debt lest they end up sleeping with the fishes.

The following takes place immediately after the conclusion of Robert Main's "Whacked On, Whacked Off."


I'm sorry, I just woke up from a coma and was recently hit in the head so my brain is a little fuzzy but did you just say that you want Robert and I to track some guy down for you and what? Bring him to you? And if we do our debt is forgiven? No muss, no fuss?

Yes.

Oh snap son. This is like Where In The World Is Carmen Sandiego! I used to love that game. So tell me Don Corleone what's this guy's name? What does he look like? Where are his favorite haunts? Details. I need details.

Pardon my friend here, he's seen one too many detective movies. What can you tell us about him?

We don't know his real name. But he goes by Locksley.

Locksley?

Yes Locksley. Like Robin of.

Why not just go by Robin Hood?

Probably worried about copyright laws.


Both the Don and Robert look over at Drew wondering if maybe he's suffered more brain damage than initially believed.


He spends most of his days in hiding somewhere in this area. The Don points to a fairly large section of a map that was conveniently resting on the table in front of them. At night is when you are most likely to find him. That's when he comes out and puts fire to everything of ours he can find.

What does he get out of this? Messing with your business?

That's what I'd like to know. And I have every intention of asking him just that after you bring him to me, ALIVE. You do that and all debts are settled.

Why us?

Because this motherless fuck knows who my guys are. But with you two, something tells me that he won't see you two guys coming.

Are we done here?

You are free to go.

Now wait just a damn minute. Drew shouts. Hey you, guy over there with the gun and the wingtips in his hair, when is it gonna be my turn to get whacked off?

I swear to God if you don't shut the fuck up I'm gonna put a bullet between your eyes.

So is that a yes or no to the whacking off?


Without warning the man with the white wingtips in his hair smashes the butt of his handgun into the side of Drew's head instantly knocking him unconscious.

***Flash Back Time***

Alright Bob-O I gotta take a piss.

Do you have to be so vulgar? Can't you just say "use the bathroom?"


As the camera fades in we see Drew Archyle seated across from XWF Universal Champion Robert Main at [name redacted] restaurant. Drew's face fixed with a look of slight amusement at the words that just came out of Robert's mouth.





I'm sorry Robert, let me rephrase. I'm gonna go find a toilet and micturate in it. Is that better for your delicate snowflake ears? Drew asks as he reaches down and pulls a french fry off of Robert's plate.


Drew chews up the fry and then quickly spits it out back onto Roberts plate.


They're cold and flaccid.


Drew heads towards the back and disappears out of the camera's view as Robert pushes his plate away in disgust.


In the bathroom we see Drew gently pushing in the stall doors with his foot until he finds a toilet to his liking. The third one in for those keeping track at home. Using his left foot Drew kicks the door shot blocking the camera from seeing him do his business. Drew comes out of the stall a few moments later and goes immediately to the sink so that he can clean his hands. Once finished with that Drew uses the automatic hand dryer and that's when a duffel bag in the corner of the bathroom catches his eye.


Anyone here? Drew says to no one in particular trying to see if the owner of the bag is still in the bathroom. Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?


Satisfied that the bathroom is empty Drew bends over and unzips the bag just enough so that he can see inside of it. His face remains steady and calm as he then zips the bag back up before slinging it over his shoulder and exiting the bathroom. Drew spots Robert still seated at the table and calmly approaches him.


You alright Bob? You're starting to look a little flush, and you're eyes are watery. Drew asks as he gets uncomfortably close to Robert's face looking him up and down like he was trying to diagnose him. Instead Drew just smirks as if he knows something but isn't sharing. Come on Bob, I think today is gonna be a good day.

Hey where did you get that duffel bag from?

Oh this old thing. Don't worry about this. I hear there's a rugby game going on a few blocks from here. Let's go see what all the fuss is about. Today is going to be a good day!

About Fifteen Minutes Later

Alright Bob, this is the place. Drew says with excitement as he points to the rugby field behind them. I just need a quick few minutes to take care of some financial business and then we will be good to go. Wait here for me.

Man fuck rugby. Robert shouts.

Bro!!! Drew whispers as he places both of his hands over Robert's mouth to try and silence him. Robert, for reasons that only make sense to him licks Drew's hands which results in Drew quickly removing them from Robert's mouth and then wiping them off on Robert's shirt. Gross. Listen you can't say that stuff around these people. Rugby is a religion here. Like fosters and mother fucking kangaroos. You saw what happened when that kanga kicked my ass. The whole country was in an uproar. And I was the one that got knocked out. Not the stupid kanga. Just sit here quietly. I'll be right back.


Drew grabs Robert by both shoulders and gently places his on an empty bench. Drew then walks into the back of the building where there are about 30-40 to people congregating and watching the various TV's that are hanging from the ceiling. Off to the far end of the room is a bank of windows with a large sign above them that says "Place Wages Here". Drew approaches the open window where a man on the other side about 50 years of age greets him.


How can I help you sir? The man asks with a thick Australian accent.

I'm here to place a wager.

Well then you've come to the right place mate. What's the wager?

Whose playing?

Really? Most people that come in here already know that information.

I like to live dangerously.

Alright mate, right there is a list of the games and the odds. The man says as he points towards a board on the side of the room.

Alright I'll take that one. Drew says as he points to a team on the board.

And the money... The man politely asks.


Drew swings the duffel bag around from behind him and tries to repeatedly jam it through the small opening in the glass to no avail.


Mate, why don't you try opening the bag and unloading it that way?

So smart you are. Drew unzips the bag and starts pulling out stacks on stacks on stacks of cash. One grand all told which he then slides through the opening to the nice man on the other side.


The man presses a few keys on his computer in front of him and within a few moments hands Drew a small slip of paper.


This is your receipt for your wager. If you were to win you will need to redeem this receipt at any of these windows to claim your winnings.

Be straight with me friend, what are my chances?

Have you ever placed a wager before mate?

Nope. You just took my betting virginity. And I must say, you were very gentle.

I wouldn't be so sure of that mate. You see the team you just picked, they were a 50-1 longshot. So if you win, you win big $50 dollars for every $1 you wagered.

That's great. That's like what 500 grand?

5 million, 100 thousand.

Holy Crapsnacks Batman!

Yeah that sounds great but again they were a 50-1 longshot, so while you stand to win a ton if you win, your chances of winning are pretty remote.

How remote?

Well I'd never say never but this is basically that.

Well shit. Then consider this a donation. Drew says as he rips up the receipt and throws it into the air like it were confetti, much to the shock and horror of the man on the other side of the counter. Have a blessed day sir.


Drew turns around and exits the room and heads back outside. He approaches the bench where he left Robert but Robert is not to be found. Where is Robert?


Bob-O? Bob-O. Where art thou Bob-O? Drew yells as a black windowless van quickly comes to a stop directly in front of him, fully accompanied by screeching tires. Three white men get out of the van with one of them placing a sack over Drew's head. The side door of the van slides open as the three men grab Drew and quickly throw him in the van. All three men then climb back into the van and it disappears out of sight. The whole event takes less than 10 seconds.

Present

The scene shifts to Drew and Robert outside of a local Brisbane hotel. Robert is sitting on a bench with an electronic tablet in his hand while Drew is laying on top of a knee high brick barrier that runs the length of a small garden outside of the hotel.


Unbelievable.

Stop yelling Bob, my head is pounding. Why is my head pounding? And why is it so bright? Oh my God I'm dead aren't I? They did it. I finally got whacked off.

Shut up Drew you aren't dead. The side of your head met the butt end of a Glock and you were knocked unconscious...again.

So I didn't get whacked off? What the F? Obviously those guys are racist.

Drew we're the same race.

Are we Robert? Are we? Have you gotten yourself tested? Hey what are you doing over there with that electronic device.

Catching up on the happenings of the XWF.

Anything good?

I guess that depends on your definition of good but Jessalyn Hart just went on a rant of epic proportions.

Really? That's so weird because I just had a dream that I was sentenced to death row and all I was allowed to do on the row was watch Jessalyn Hart promos on loop. It was awful man. Awful. I've never wanted to die so badly in my entire life and I was homeless in Chicago during the dead of winter. You remember. Anyway one of the promos I watched she went on and on about gender cards and mochismo. She was all pissy at me because I said something about how I was raised to not hit women or God forbid, unlike people like Gilmour or Chaos, actually take pleasure in the opportunity. Apparently I'm an asshole for not being an asshole. Imagine that? Must be part of this whole #metoo stuff that I've been hearing about.

Actually... Robert tries to interject but to no avail.

I know right can you believe that? Here I was trying to be a nice guy saying that I'll do that what I need to to win the match because I'm a competitor, because I respect them as opponents, even offered to take them to dinner afterwards but yet I somehow played the gender card. Which I never did. I would never say that I am going to win something just because I am a man and she is a woman. That's silly. Who would do that? These women have already proven they can beat men. Or at least people who identify as such. No I'll win, we will win because we are better wrestlers. Plain and simple. Jessalyn is a good wrestler, her and her partner are two time tag team champs, which, says a lot about the state of the tag team division but still, they hold the belts currently. Hart has held some other belts and now VV is the Xtreme champ. Obviously these two women know how to tangle. I recognize that, I appreciate that. And I look forward to proving to them why we were the number one contenders for the titles before my coma. It's crazy to hear Hart act like Apex has accomplished nothing and yet you and I, we beat The Killers in a match before. We, along with Jim, God Rest his soul, beat The Motherfuckers. Removed them from the map all together. A team made up of multiple Universal Champions and a 3rd guy who was pretty darn good in his own right. Apex may not have the tag team titles on our resume but we are a very accomplished team. Maybe that's why VV and Hart were both so complimentary of us originally and then suddenly pulled a 180 and started acting like we were the meanest dudes that ever lived.

Drew...

Geez Robert I'm trying to tell you about my dream, stop being so rude and interrupting. Anyway at one point of the dream I remember that I tried stabbing myself in the jugular with a knife but every time it hit my skin it would turn into a plastic spoon. It was awful man. I kept hearing Jessalyn talking about how we demanding a shot at the titles like we were some johnny come latelys who hadn't earned anything even though I distinctly remembered you challenging the champions for a shot at the titles and her partner VV graciously accepting our challenge pending management approval. Which let's be honest, why wouldn't the GM's book a tag team match that not only features the current tag team champs but the current Universal Champion? And you were good enough to put your title on the line when you didn't have to. You are a fighting champion Robert. Don't ever forget that. I thought that's what the Midnight Dolls were too but that seems unlikely with how much Hart is crying about getting forced into a match even though no such thing ever happened.

This chick is certifiable. I kinda wish I hadn't invited her out for shrimp on the barbie after the match. Lord knows she might misconstrue me opening a door for her as me trying to sleep with her. Which, as we both know, she isn't my type. A like for my women to have a little color, and apparently whiny children if my current sex partner is any indication. But anyway, isn't that weird that I just dreamed all that up?

That's what I've been trying to tell you. That wasn't a dream. What you are talking about, all that stuff Hart said, that was from the promo I just watched from Hart, you must have been half awake while you were laying there.

Really? Well that's kinda disappointing. Anyway, what are we doing and how did we get here?

After that Italian guy knocked you out they put us back in the van and dropped us off here at our hotel and then left.

I see...well...you wanna get some food? I'm hungry.

Fade2Black