"FUCK! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!" Raj shrieks as he bursts into Kuda's hotel room. Startled, Kuda leaps from his bed, tearing his Jojo Siwa onesie down the back--revealing his muscular black ass.

"Oh man, I'm the worst manager ever, I'm so sorry. We gotta fucking go! You have a match with John Black tomorrow that I totally forgot about." Kuda shrugs, non-verbally alerting Raj to the fact that John Black poses as much threat to him as a fully erect Gator poses to a 2" deep glory hole, and pulls the blankets back over his head.

"No! No more of this kumbaya shit you need to get into that fucking ring and win this shit so you can advance in the tournament of...well, the least prestigious title in the entire company--but I need my fucking commision!" Raj pulls the blankets away and Kuda kicks his feet like a toddler throwing a tantrum. "Yeah, yeah. I know. A match with John Black has the curb appeal of an 80 year old leper turning tricks for sunchips under an overpass, but you need to get past him in order to advance and even the score against Lacklan who beat you

in

what

was

clearly

an

error

in

judgement

by

the

official."

Kuda yawns and rolls out of bed. Raj pushing him out the door.



The scene shifts to Kuda lazily strolling out of the hotel room, still brushing his teeth. The sound of screeching tires announce Raj's arrival. Kuda plunges himself into the backseat of the old sedan and closes his eyes as Raj speeds off.

"I got a big fuckin' problem with this match, you know? John White is less capable in the ring than Vinnie Lane is in bed. You're clearly superior to him in every single way possible. Bigger, stronger, faster, smarter, blacker. He's the Professor Klump to your Buddy Love. Or is he the Norbit to your Axel Foley? I don't know. Either way, John Black is the personification of doing just enough to get by--WIC card, bus pass, and all. If ESPN ever did a 30 for 30 of John Black, 29 minutes would be devoted to the ritualistic mass suicide the crew chose over sitting in a room with him for an hour and listen to him pretend to be anything other than a pathetic sack of skin giving a piggyback ride to the sickle cell trait."

Kuda lifts his head and opens his mouth to respond, but his eyes are drawn to the passenger side of the vehicle, before Raj can turn his head the vehicle is flipped on its' side in a jarring collision. Shards of glass fly as the vehicle tumbles side-over-side, finally ending on its roof as it slides to a stop.



The scene momentarily fades to a blur.



Raj is shaken away by a state trooper.

You alright son?

"Where...where's Kuda?"

The big fella? He's in rough shape. They're loading him up over there.

Raj struggles to his feet as he hears a female's voice yelling out

He's losing blood!

We're losing him!

We're gonna have to intubate!

In a haze, Raj stumbles over to the prone Kuda--laying lifeless and covered in blood.

"Oh my God. Kuda, I'm so sorry. I just--I just wanted you to beat John Black...

"John Black?" The other EMT chimes in, a large black man in his own right.

"Uh, yeah. Wrestler. You know him?

"Back home we call him hood Ambien; you can't afford sleeping pills you watch John Black for 5 minutes and it's lights out. Or you eat a bullet. Either way it's night night.

"My friend...is he going to make it?

"He's in a pretty bad way, not gonna lie. But he's a big, tough son of a bitch so I wouldn't bet against him."

"Come back from prehistoric times to die in a car accident. Oh God I'd never forgive myself.

"Prehistoric? the EMT chuckles "Ain't nothing prehistoric about him. Nigga's name is Terrance and he's from Boise, says so right on his driver's license."

"Wait...what?" Raj questions, puzzled. The EMT's load Kuda up into the back of the ambulance, Raj tries to enter behind them but is waved off by the male EMT.

"Don't worry. We'll take real good care of him."

The ambulance doors close as the EMTs lean over the lifeless Kuda.



"You didn't really think we'd let you get away, did you nigga?"


The ambulance speeds away as Raj is left on the side of the road.