Outside, a group of rally attendees stand in the parking lot of the Lawrence Comfort Inn, wearing merchandise provided by Team MAGA and holding various flags and signs.

Inside, O Bay T-Law and Bartholomew "Boots" Lichter stand in an empty ballroom, looking at their new manager and spokesperson, Father Jefferson Cheney. He hands papers over to both T-Law and Lichter, who look at them with a level of confusion.

"Scripts?"

"Yes, scripts. The two of you get a little sloppy when you're in front of the camera. You lose the plot. People are starting to catch on."

"The movement is only getting stronger! Besides, we're not really script guys."

"You are now. All that previous stuff you've been saying? The tough guy act? It doesn't work when you have zero wins to your name. You need a different approach. You can't keep promising them something you're not going to deliver on."

"They not a results based group. They're way too dumb for that. They just listen to what they want to hear and throw money at it."

Father Jefferson Cheney stares at Boots for a solid few seconds before slowly walking up to him. He angrily looks into his eyes before slamming him across the face. Boots immediately puts his hand to his face and yells out in pain.

"What the hell was that for?!"

"These people are not dumb! They are proud, God fearing Americans, and you would do wise to never think these things ever again! Now, stick with the script."

Boots glances over at T-Law with a concerned look on his face. T-Law, not wanting to also be slapped, quickly reads through the script. His eyes scan back and forth on the paper before looking back up at Cheney.

"We use the word "thug" a lot for John Black. If we're doing it just to get the Twitter crowd to react, shouldn't we just say it once?"

"We're not doing it for the Twitter crowd. He calls himself a thug. If we were calling some random person a thug, I would agree with you. But this is a self description. He can't be offended by us using the word."

Cheney stops talking and turns his head towards the door. He raises his hand to silence the two men in the room, and closes his eyes. The sound of the demonstrators is incredibly faint, but Cheney listens as if he can hear them clear as day.

"Hear that? It's the sound of great patriots reaching out to you. They're calling for you, waiting for you to deliver something to them. Do not disappoint them again."

Cheney walks out of the room, leaving Lichter and T-Law alone in the room. Lichter's eyes go wide as he looks over at T-Law.

"I think this man is actually crazy. I'm willing to go along with rhetoric for a while, but I think this dude actually believes most of this stuff. He might BE Q-Anon."

"He's the reincarnation of JFK Junior?"

"No, but I think he actually believes JFK Junior is out there somewhere."

"Yeah, I'm sure he does, but we need him. He isn't just crazy - he leads crazy. Crazy follows him. And it's those crazy people that we need to buy our shit. So we need to suck it up, beat HGH and John Black, and keep moving forward with our movement."

Lichter looks at the paper again, then folds it up and slips it into his jacket pocket.

"You're right. I had a few guys like him on my campaign. We typically didn't want to leave them in charge of anything, but they were great for firing up the crazies. I just...don't like being slapped."

Lichter rubs the side of his face.

"I know, and so does everyone else. They're trying to push us away, Boots. Why do you think they booked this match with you instead of me, even after we specifically said you were only here for tag team matches?"

Lichter rubs his chin, thinking.

"It's because they think you're the weak link, so they want to run you out. Vinnie is pals with John Black. Everyone knows that. And HGH is Vinnie's project. But he resents us, because we're not drugged out liberals who will kiss his ass. This is an attempt from the top to drive us out, and we need to push back."

Lichter begins to smile as his eyes light up and his body relaxes.

"You're right. This is our golden opportunity. HGH, John Black - these guys aren't tough at all. They certainly aren't talented. And with you ringside, we can very easily outsmart these fools. Not only that, but we're in Kansas. A red state. There has to be tons of MAGA fans in that audience. Let's get them something to cheer."

Lichter smiles wider now as he turns and walks out of the ballroom. The crowd outside starts getting louder, and cheers can be heard, as the camera fades to black.