The first sight you are met with is, oddly enough, a wall of impenetrable burlap. You're left with this for a moment, but in that time you slowly become aware that someone within the burlap is breathing. And then, that same someone starts to rouse, their breath pushing the course fabric of the sack over their head in and out. And, as panic starts to set in and their breathing becomes more and more frenetic, the fabric is rustled still more.

What the fuck? WHAT THE FUCK?!

The burlap sack is plucked off of Madison Dyson's head, and Engy is standing there. Welcome back, Maddy!

Madison looks about the room, her head darting this way and that as she struggles to make sense of her circumstances. Bare cement walls. A non-descript door (latched and bolted), a single light bulb swaying ever so slightly causing it to cast shadows on the walls of the people standing in the room. Speaking of which, standing just behind and to the left of Engy is a bulky, fierce looking middle aged man who is down on one knee, unlocking a large black case.

Madison looks down at herself, noting that she is tied to a wooden chair. With a viciousness reserved for imminent castration, she looks back up at Engy. You have ten fucking seconds to explain this, and I started counting five seconds ago.

Engy sighs and walks around Madison. From behind, he drops both his hands down on her shoulders and starts rubbing them, causing her to wince. Maddy....Maddy....Maddy.... He leans in, bringing his lips close to her ear. I think you know why we're here.

Cut this D-level Bond villain horseshit. And who's this asshole?! Madison glowers at the stranger.

Zdravstvujtye! The stranger announces cheerfully as he finishes unlocking his case and opens it.

Madison, meet Alexei. Alexei, Madison. Alexei is former KGB and came highly, highly recommended by Donald Trump Jr.

Madison pushes her words through gritted teeth. What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Doing?

Engy circles back around Madison, a jubilant expression on his face. Madison, today, for the first time in your life, you are going to be completely 100% honest with me. Now, I know you THINK you've been doing a good job of covering your tracks and being all “cloak and dagger”, but I know you're planning to backstab me for Finn Kuhn.

Madison shakes her head and looks at him incredulously. ....WHAT?! I don't even know where to start with that level of idiocy!

Really? That's cool, because I do. First off, I accessed your phone records and you've made 8 calls to Finn in the last month. Plllllleeeeaaaasssseee try to deny it, I have print outs of your phone records. Engy crosses his arms, looking quite confident with himself. And aside from that bit of hard evidence, I just know YOU Madison. I know how you operate. I know you better than you know yourself. Your star has been tumbling hard since Shove-It. Your credibility was destroyed the moment Donnie keeled over into Jenny Myst's rank poosay. Your GOP friends want nothing to do with you anymore, you've become increasingly desperate and insecure as you pathetically attempt to glom onto men half your age (including my very gay son), which ultimately resulted in you getting arrested for sexual assault. Side bar, who in the wide world of fucks would have guessed that would happen to YOU before ME. Also, it's been no secret that you've become increasingly frustrated with having me as your client since I learned how to think critically for myself last summer. In short, you are looking to dump me harder than a career bureaucrat severing from a knocked up side piece, and you're looking to do it on a grand stage in a moment of shock and awe that will catapult you back into the limelight you oh so desperately crave. That about cover it?

Madison stares at Engy. Engy stares back at Madison. Alexei stares at them both. Finally, Madison breaks the silence. You utter, chronic, wet fart of a human being. After everything I've done for you.....

Alexei reaches down into his case and pulls out a blow torch and points it at Madison as he turns to Engy. Dolzhen li ya nachinat' s yeye litsa ili sis'ki?

Madison's body lurches in response to the sight of the blowtorch. Whoa....whoa....whoa! Whaaaaat, what the fuck are you doing?! She turns to Engy, looking plaintive. Engy, come on, this isn't funny!

Do you see me laughing? Engy turns to Alexei and shakes his head, causing Alexei to lower the blow torch. You ARE going to tell me the truth, Madison. One way or another.

I can't believe this! You fucking PSYCHO! Think about this for like five goddamn seconds would you? How would me stabbing you in the back for Finn make a goddamn bit of sense?! Huh? Yes, Finn's command of the Fatherland's language makes me squishy. Yes, he has a cute tight little ass. Yes, he somehow, in defiance of all known physiology and anatomy, has a ten-pack. But what he does not have is your insane level of dominance and consistency in the ring. Hell, I'll admit it, the kid is.....unproven.

Engy nods. That's a pretty diplomatic way of saying he sucks balls.

Madison lurches forward in her seat as far as her restraints allow. But that just proves my point! Why would I throw myself behind him whole hog when he's been so inconsistent in the ring? Huh? It makes ZERO sense. Okay, okay....sure. He was my pick to win Shove-It. But can you fucking blame me? Did you catch the parade of LOSERS who signed up for that?! You think I would have rather had Jenny fucking Myst? Or Danny “King of Flakes” Imperial? Finn was the OBVIOUS and most respectable winner out of a lot of garbage tier also-rans who couldn't shine your shit encrusted boots.

Engy leans in towards Madison again. Then what the hell were the phone calls for?

Madison looks away from Engy, her expression somewhere between bemused and annoyed.

....well?

Madison looks back at him, rolling her eyes. Fine....FINE, you asked for it! Sometimes, when I'm in the mood, I call him and listen to his voice on his voice mail message when I crank one out.

The average call was like 15 minutes!

IT TAKES A WHILE!!

Madison and Engy both stand stock still now, glowering at each other. Alexei lights the blow torch, causing Engy to look towards him. Alexei cants his head towards the open flame as if to say “we gonna do this or what?” Engy sighs. Hold on. I need to consult....someone.

Engy heads towards the door and starts unlatching it. Madison strains against her bonds and calls after him. Wait...wait! You can't leave me here! ENGY! EEEEEENNNGYYYYYY-

Her screech is abruptly cut off by Engy closing the door behind him.

Later....

So, I dunno man. I've been with Madison for years. And in all that time, she's honestly done a lot for me. But, I was pretty stupid and easy for her to control back then too. And she's been lusting after this Finn kid HARD since middle age came knocking, so I just don't know anymore. Am I being paranoid? Engy asks aloud as he sits in the driver's seat of Madison's car. He stuffs a burrito into his mouth, ripping off a hearty bite before turning to his passenger.

Did I mention a passenger? Because the passenger is Jim Caedus. Or what's left of him. Jim's wearing one of his trademark tight muscle tees and a pair of jeans, but both are as heavily charred as the rest of his flesh. The entire left side of his face has been burned off, and where blackened skin ends white bits of skull lie exposed. One side of his scalp maintains his golden locks, while the other has nothing but crisped nubs of hair. The eye socket on the burned side is leaking the gelatin like residue of his melted eye ball down over the rest of his face. 'Course that blusterin' bitch is lyin', Eng! You gonna buy that claptrap about her bustin' a mooseknuckle nightly to Finn's voicemail?! Come on, man! It ain't paranoia if it's true!

Engy runs a hand down his face in exhaustion. I know....I know....**sigh**He picks up a still wrapped burrito and holds it up to Jim. You want this one? I'm not all that hungry now.

Jim shakes his head “no”, causing some of his crisped flesh to flake off his face. Nah. I don't have a digestive tract anymore.

Oh, right. My bad. Engy puts the wrapped burrito and his own half eaten one back in the bag. You know what else really bothers me about Madison? She keeps saying I need to “get over you”. Like it's just that easy to get over a best rival/maybe friend/possible only person I've ever actually respected, like you. I mean, it's not everyday somebody makes such a big impact on you that they enmesh themselves into your subconscious so thoroughly it results in a vivid waking delusion of their shattered corpse talking to you. Engy pauses, then looks askance at Jim. Was that sentence okay or.....?

Super run-on, but I won't give you shit because you finally fixed “your” and “you're” so good on that. But anyway, back to Madison. Look, a lot of people said I was paranoid, that I was crazy. But the cold hard fact is that in this business, nobody is actually your friend. Nobody. And Madison sure as SHIT was never your friend. But you needed her once upon a time because you thought eating paint was a good idea. But you're not that guy anymore, Eng. You don't NEED representation. You can think for yourself. Plus, every major hurdle you've overcome in the XWF was YOUR doing. Not hers. You want my advice? Cut the cord.

Engy nods sagely, casting a quick look out the front windshield before returning his gaze to Jim. Thanks man. But I'm still not Muddy Waters.

YOU CAN'T PROVE THAT! Jim turns to Engy suddenly with a psychotic gleam in his remaining eye before he abruptly vanishes in a flash of white hot flame. Engy picks up the burrito bag from his lap and places it where Jim was just sitting before turning to the camera.

Well Finny-kins, finally the match really nobody wanted to see at all. Hell, the deck was so stacked against the match the entire company went on a mysterious multi-week hiatus in the run up to it. Not pointing fingers or anything, but I better still get paid, know what I'm sayin'? He shoots a pointed look at the camera before proceeding. So kid, I'll admit that it's real hard to break new ground on you because quite frankly you're one of those guys where your biggest flaw is so overt...so front and center....that EVERYONE has called you on it and been 100% in the right doing so. You are the epitome of “all flash, no substance”. A consummate choke artist who has wasted every real opportunity you've been handed, except for Shove-It. A guy who stayed relevant solely by refusing to quit and tweaking your gimmick a tad. I mean Jesus son, you JUST botched a chance at Chris Chaos' belt, so what exactly makes you think you got a chance against me?

Answer? You don't. You just don't. And that makes me sad. Because part of being a legendary Universal champion is proving your mettle against guys who push you to be better. Guys who make you reach deep down into that part of yourself, deep into the depths of your soul, to pull out that extra “something-something” that makes a champion worthy of that title. And I just don't see you pushing me like that. Oh sure, there have been guys who've patted you on the back for “getting close” and “bringing your A-game to a loss”, including Jim himself. But let's be real here?

They were just being nice.

Nobody honestly thought you would beat those guys. Shit, those guys probably didn't actually think you could win. You have already splattered your brains on your own personal glass ceiling here, and it wasn't management who built that particular barrier but your own crippling mediocrity.

I mean just look at it, son. Stack your time here against mine and look at it. You see what I'm talking about? So whaddya gotta say about that? “Okay, but it's my moment now!” Finn, you were sayin' that shit the entire time. It's been “your moment” for like 6 months and you've done fuck all with it. So what makes this different? Because you won Madison's Shove It against a cast of bit players?

Look, I'll grant you this much. You are a solid mid-card guy. You're charismatic. The whole “Kaiser” thing is okay. You got good taste in ring rats (seriously, you ever feel like rentin' out that Isabel bint, I wanna be on your speed dial).

But, in the end, you are glorified enhancement talent. Vinnie Lane wants a new champ to have to defend, but doesn't want to risk a “flash in the pan” championship reign? He calls Finn Kuhn. Darius got a spot on the card after a couple sleeper matches to get the crowd back into things? He calls Finn Kuhn. You are that guy.

But you're not a TOP guy. And it is for that reason that I, much to my disappointment, cannot call you a credible threat to my championship. Now maybe you could have been, if Madison had been left to her devices, but as you can see I got that shit on lock down.

So tell me Finn, what do you have? Honestly. TRULY. What are you bringing? Why should the unwashed masses piss away their hard earned pesos on what, for all intents and purposes, is screaming “inevitability”? Can you even give me that? Do I even need to promo for this or can I just run spliced clips of all the times your shoulders stayed down for three on an infinite loop and call it a day? Because that amount of complete wasted potential can probably tell the story of your life and career better than anything I could possibly say.

Your move kiddo. And, uh, time's ticking. You got a lot of ground to cover.

Engy looks back at the bag of burritos and smiles.

I guess I've worked up an appetite after all.

ELSEWHERE....

We return to the site of Madison's interrogation. She's still strapped to the chair, and Alexei is seated on top of his black case. He taps a finger to his chin and looks around the room. Finally, his gaze settles on the wall and he says in broken English, I spies wit' my leetle eyes somezing....GRAY!

Madison looks on at him, totally disgusted. Fuck off.

END!