The scene fades in to an exterior shot of the Wyndham Grand Istanbul Kalamis Marina Hotel.



From there the scene quickly transitions to a shot of the interior where we see Theo Pryce entering what appears to be a suit on one of the top floors. He shuts the door behind him and stops halfway into the room, caught off guard but not completely surprised to see John Madison sitting in a chair on the other side of the room puffing on a cigar.


“Jesus Christ John, how the hell did you find me?”

“I put a tracking device on your ankle while you were asleep.”

“What?”


Theo instinctively checks his ankle, expecting to find an ankle monitor or something. Of course, there's nothing there; it's just another case of John being a prick.


“Come on, Theo. I don't need a tracking device to find you. I always know where you are.”


John winks at Theo, sadistically. He probably learned that shit from watching Peter Gilmour tapes all year.

“Asshole... ”

“You didn't even check in under your real name... Who the fuck is Tom Hiddleston?”

“Some British actor. I wanted to check in using an alias and people keep telling me I look like him so I just went with it.”


“And how is that working out for you?”

“Fantastic. It helps me get laid.”

“Yeah, I guess you need all the help you can get, since being Theo Pryce isn't ever enough.”

“Damn John. And I thought I was the asshole here. Besides, being Tom Hiddleston is paying dividends already. I fucked two broads this morning before breakfast.”

“That's always fun.”

“Actually it was fucking awful. I was too busy with them and I missed the continental breakfast.”

“Continental breakfast? Isn’t that just bagels and muffins?”

“I don’t know John because I missed it.”

“Well geez, Theo. You don’t have to be such a pissy bitch about it. I’ll buy you a Goddamn bagel if it’s that big of a deal.”

“It’s not John it’s really not. What is a big deal is how you managed to track me down, how you always manage to track me down, even when I am trying to not be found.”

“Don’t want to be found? We have a match to prepare for, there is no time to hiding out.”

“I’m not hiding.”

“This is no time to be on vacation either.”

“I’m not on vacation either.”


“Well then what the hell are you doing in Turkey? Do you have to travel halfway across the world just to find someone who will sleep with you?”

“Not necessarily. I am here on business. Getting laid was just out of routine, kind of like how you order your coffee every morning, John.”

“Business? What business? Your only business is the XWF and we certainly didn’t send you out here. We can’t afford that. We haven’t paid our wrestlers in like two months?”

“Really? Is the XWF broke? Do I need to buy it?”

“No. Shane’s got some grand plan. Something about selling potatoes and feces filled condoms on the black market. You know that Monopoly money we hand out called XBux, that dipshits like Evertrust and Pest go crazy over? They'll be able to purchase those special items with the Xbux."

“Sounds like a sure thing.”

“That’s what I said.”


Theo walks into the room, puts his suitcase down and immediately walks over to the dry bar and pours himself a drink. He then turns to John with an empty glass in his hand.


“You want one?”

“No, you fucking alcoholic. I’m straight edge..”

"Since when?”

“Ever since some drunk, asshole teenager drove over my parents with his fucking SUV.”

"John... Wasn't that you?”

“Yeah, so what?!”

"Oh nothing. It's just... 20 years have passed, and in the year that I've known you, I've never seen you sober.”

“Don't judge me, Theo. It's people like you who make this world shitty when you discriminate against people who are 'Edge.”


At the end of his rant, John pulls out a bottle of Johnnie Walker and casually takes a swig.


"John, you just now went against everything you said...”

“There you go again, Theo. You just need to lay off me and my people. I'll leave you and your Tom Hiddleston gang alone if you leave me and my straight edge society.”

"Forget it... So what are you doing here anyway, John? Besides turning my room into a damn ashtray.”

“Making sure you stay focused on the task at hand.”

“Which is?”

“The trios titles.”

“Come on John, you haven’t been focused since…”

“Nam.”

“Nam?”

“Yeah. Oh sorry, 'Vietnam,' for you civilian folks who got tucked in bed at night while I had to cuddle with snakes and dodge bullets. ”

“I know what 'Nam' is, John. You were in Vietnam? John you weren’t alive when the Vietnam War was going on.”

“Sure I was. Me and my buddy Charlie.”

“Charlie?”

“Yeah, Charlie. He was this cool little asian fella who followed me around. He was really quiet for some reason. And he was bad luck too, we'd always get into fire fights when he was around.”

“John, Charlie is what they called the Vietnamese.”

“Are you saying that I am a traitor? That I hate America?”

“No John that’s not what I’m saying. What I’m saying is…”

“Look Theo, we can spend all day talking about my time in the service or my friend Charlie but I’m not here to relive the past. I’m here to talk about the future. You, me and Samuels. The trios titles. We need to do what N.A.Z.I and that Duke couldn’t do.”

“And what is that?”

“Win the trios titles for me.”

“Well John if you wanted to have a team building pow-wow you should have called Samuels and invited him.”

“Funny you should say that.”


And just like that, as if he were standing in the hallway listening for the exact right moment, the door to the room opens up and in steps John Samuels.


“What the fuck?”

“Nice to see you too. “What'd I miss?””

“Theo was accusing me and my fellow countrymen of being traitors. Pretty sure he thinks you are a corrupt politician.”

“What? I never said that.”

“'Corrupt' is such a dirty word. I prefer the term 'opportunistic.'”

“Whatever.”

“Jesus man, take that stick out of your squish mitten, I’m just fucking with you. What is there to drink in this place?”

“Go check the bar and see. I grabbed the first dark colored drink I could find.”

"Don’t mind him Samuels, he missed breakfast this morning. Oh and I got some Johnnie Walker here, if you want some. Don't put your lips on the bottle though, I think I have a cold.”

“Theo how could you? It’s the most important meal of the day? You're a growing boy!”

“I was preoccupied. Look, it’s great that you guys are here and all but I actually have work to do. I can’t be here to entertain you guys.”

“Work? What work do you have to do? The XWF is your job.”

“That’s what I said.”

“I have other business interests besides just what I did running Pryce Industries but that’s not the point.”

“What is the point then?”

“That I have shit to do and I can’t be here to baby sit you guys.”

“Baby sit? You hear this shit? Theo thinks we need a baby sitter.”

“Look buzzkillington, John and I will go and hit up the town, maybe find a few ladies, while you go take care of your business that you refuse to tell us about. But I gotta say friend, you aren’t being a very good host.”

“Yeah, Theo. If you're gonna pretend to be Tom Hiddleston, like some creepy psychopath, you can at least try to be as cool as him.”

“Host? Hosts invite people, you two just showed up.”

“For the record, I was invited, just not by you.”

“Tell you what John, I have some time before I need to go do my business. You wanted to do some team building so let’s do it. The way I see it this match is a foregone conclusion. You both saw what happened two weeks ago? Those three assholes couldn’t get out of their own way. Morbid Angel a supposed former Universal Champion and your pet project Peter Gilmour lost a handicapped match to the feds new favorite cry baby Lane. So you tell me John, what preparation do we really need to win that match? Sammy and I could show up three sheets to the wind and still get the job done on our own, having you there is an added bonus.”

“Theo you know I don’t wrestle drunk…anymore.”

“I’ll believe that when I actually see it Samuels.”

“Seriously John, what are you going to do in that match if Peter and you are the two legal participants? Do you think Peter will actually raise a hand to the guy that managed him to a Tag Team Title? To the guy who got him a Universal Title shot?”

“Speaking of, when are you going to let Gilmour fight you for that title of yours?”

“When I feel like having an easy week. And you didn’t answer my question.”

“You wanna know what will happen? What will happen is that me and Peter will take care of business like me and Charlie did back in Nam! Did I ever tell you the story of how me and Charlie mowed down this squad of Viet Cong who were posing as American soldiers?”

“John... you scare me sometimes. But like I said, this match, these guys, I’m not worried about it. We all know what Peter Gilmour is, a guy who shrinks in the spotlight. Last week Peter and Morbid had a chance to win the Trios Titles and they couldn’t be bothered to give a shit. I see no reason why this match will be any different. Morbid Angel? Please. That guy is a nothing. The last time he thought he was facing me he tried to throw some verbal barbs my way and the second I responded he turned into a deaf mute. And Vinnie Lane? Don’t even get me started on that guy. He’s too busy rocking back and forth in a corner crying about how Pest and Frodo and Evertrust won’t leave him alone to even bother with us.”

“He beat you once before.”

“He beat a team I was on, he didn’t beat me. And besides, Lucena and Ryback are a hell of a lot better than his teammates this time around and it’s not even close.”

“Ya think?”

“Absolutely. Lucena beat Gilmour straight up. John and I have each beaten Gilmour. I’ve beaten Morbid. You’ve both beaten some of the best wrestlers this federation has ever seen. There is a reason that we are The Three Kings of the XWF and no one else is, or will ever be. There is a reason that the Universal Title has been a fucking hot potato since it came back from the dumpster. And that's with the last two champs never wanting to defend the damn thing. There is a reason that there have been 5 Universal Champs in 5 months and the Crown saw three people wear it in 9 months. The Crown meant something.”

“Says the guy who pawned it for $50 bucks and a gold chain.”

“Hey, I was speaking metaphorically. The notion of being the top dog in the days of the crown mattered. Not the actual crown itself. Besides, John wore a Burger King crown, I wore a chain. I’m sure you would have done something equally as ridiculous had you actually been in possession of the crown for more than 30 seconds.”

“Yeah man, fucking n.W.o.”

“The fucking n.W.o.”

“You know I got a call from Hulk the other day?”


Theo and Samuels both turn around to face Madison who as is often the case always has something out of left field to say.


“You did? What did he want?”

“He threatened to kick my ass if I didn’t stop sending boxes of shit to his daughter.”

“Why are you sending his daughter boxes of shit?”

“Why are you not sending his daughter boxes of shit?”

“Because I’m not fucking insane?”

“There you go again. Judging the Vietnam vets, the straight edgers, and now the box shitters.”

“Look fellas, I’d love to stay and shoot the shit with you guys all day but I do have actual legitimate business to take care of. I’ll be back in a few hours. Try not to get arrested while I’m gone. They aren’t too friendly around here.”

“The real Tom Hiddleston would stay and shoot shit with us. He might even go as far as shooting shit into a box and sending it to Brooke Hogan, like a classy gentleman.”


Theo rolls his eyes.


“Arrested? Diplomatic immunity son.”

“Totally forgot about that. Alright, well then try not to get killed. They don’t love us over here.”

“No one does.”

“Too true.”


Theo walks over to the chair, picks up his coat and carefully puts it on. He takes one last look at his pseudo guests and exits the room.


“Shotgun taking a dump on Theo’s bed.”


TBC?