The door to Agent Marie Davenport’s office kicks open.

A furious Mark Flynn walks through the door and spins around, electricity in his veins, slamming the door shut.

…

A few deep breaths.

Muscles relax.

Hands reach, sweeping across shoulders to regain a semblance of composure.

Flynn turns around, facing Agent Davenport. As he was facing her about nine minutes ago, in very different circumstances.

She’s sitting behind her desk, with the slightest smile curling her upper lip.

Which, considering who reserved and unexpressive she is, she might as well be openly pointing and laughing.

Flynn exhales.

“My systems were compromised.”

“In what way?” Davenport says, her tone tinged with modest curiosity, instead of empathy.

“My combat simulator that I spent eight years on was stolen… And my computer… exploded.”

“Hmm. Shame. What happened?”

“...NK.”

“The one man you trust, right?” Davenport allows her smirk to extend just a half-inch.

Flynn’s eyes narrow. His teeth clench furiously.

…

He bares his teeth in the shape of a smile.

“All right, all right. I think we both said things we regret.”

“I don’t regret what I said.”

…

Flynn’s eyes flutter as his brain overloads with anger. He tries to swallow it and almost chokes.

“Ehhhhhhhhhhheheheheheh.” He laughs… kinda. “C’mon! You didn’t think I was serious? I was joking! Y’know… One of those GOOFS. One of those… running jokes we have!”

…Davenport’s face doesn’t flinch an inch.

Flynn’s already-flimsy fake smile fades. Time to change tact.

“So, it doesn’t INFURIATE you that OUR systems were compromised?”

“YOUR systems were compromised, Flynn.” Davenport says while sticking a plastic cup under her coffee machine.

Flynn fumes. “In YOUR building! Isn’t this bureau supposed to be sec-”

Davenport sticks a finger in the air. Flynn pauses.

Davenport hits a button. Coffee slowly drips down into the cup…

…

…Flynn’s face reddens, getting angrier and angrier. But Davenport’s finger remains raised…

…

Finally, the cup fills and the drip stops.

Davenport takes a sip. She hums, satisfied.

“You made it very clear that you didn’t want your precious combat simulator hooked up to the bureau’s network. Because you didn’t want your computer at risk if we were attacked.”

Davenport sits back down behind her desk, cup in hand.

“If the Maru WERE hooked into our network, your hacker might have gotten into our files as while. I should thank you.”

Davenport takes in another mouthful of black coffee.

“But, you meant it as a sleight against our abilities. So, I won’t.”

“Marie, I…”

“AGENT. DAVENPORT.”

Flynn squeezes his fists so hard, his nails cut into the palms of his hands.

“...Agent. Davenport. I’d appreciate your help.”

“And I could give it to you, Flynn. I could probably make a single phone call and solve your problem. Figure out where Professor Ned Kaye attacked you from… Get you on track to recover your stolen software… It would all be very easy for me.”

…

Flynn and Davenport stare across the room at each other.

…

Davenport raises the cup to her lips again.

“Are you GOING to help me?”

Davenport keeps drinking. She raises a finger again. Flynn is fumingly angry.

Davenport closes her eyes, savoring the flavor.

“I’m sorry. You ever get something so good, you wish you could put it in a bottle and keep it forever?”

“Fuck off.”

Davenport shakes her head, setting the cup down.

“To answer your question, Flynn…”

She exhales with profound satisfaction.

“No.”

…

“No?”

“No, I’m not going to help you. Not right away, at least.”

…Flynn inhales, trying to stay as calm as he can. Which, even he knows, is not very calm.

“Agent Davenport.”

“See? You’re learning. I like this.”

His breath starts to quicken. It’s like he can feel his blood boil and his arteries bake.

“But, are you going to remember this lesson if I just pull you out of the shit? No. So, I think I’m going to leave you in it.”

“...You’re going to NOT help me, just to teach me a lesson?”

“Yep. You want to play with ONLY the people you trust? Great. Play with yourself and your North Korean friend. The Bureau will give you all the space you could want on this one.”

Flynn snaps his fingers.

“I need to get this resolved now. We both know The Beacon assignment is incredibly time-sensitive. We just got Vinnie to agree to help us out against Robert Miles.”

“Which is why I have a replacement taking over your workload while you… resolve your computer situation.”

Davenport hits a button on her desk.

The door behind Flynn opens…

And in enters…

In a black and silver pinstripe suit. (And a new pair of pants).

Agent Redd Spahtz. He clicks his heels together, saluting toward Davenport.

“I humbly accept the honor you’ve bestowed on me with the utmost… uh… Utmost…tity.”

Flynn scoffs.

“What’s this asshole going to do? Sell Robert Miles BATTLESHIPS?”

“That was ONE TIME! AN-”

Davenport raises a finger. Spahtz is immediately silent.

“Agent Spahtz will handle the Beacon assignment in his own unique method.”

Davenport sips at her cup. She lifts it up perpendicular to her face, patting the bottom to get the last few drops.

“In the meantime, you have my number. Let me know when you’re back up-and-running.”

…Flynn starts a low guttural sound. He points a shaking finger, first at Davenport then at Spahtz.

Before backing out of the room…

***

It was a long walk back to OUTSIDE the basement office…

The explosion had reduced Flynn’s workspace to smoking rubble…

Kato was standing in the hallway, talking on the phone.

NK sits on the floot, holding something to his chest like a precious artifact…

As Flynn approaches, NK lights up, holding his hands out.

“Mark Flynn! I heroically ORDERED Kato to dig through the rubble and he, and by extension, I managed to retrieve this!”

NK opens his hands… and retrieves Flynn’s mouse!

“There! Your precious computer mouse! Haha, I knew how important it was for you! A treasured heirloom, I assume, the way you went on and on about it, hahaha!”

NK reaches for Flynn’s hand and opens it, placing the mouse snugging in Flynn’s palm.

“There! You have been made whole from my... from A negligible error, which could hardly be called my fault! And now, all is forgiven! And in fact, no forgiveness is required, eh?”

…NK’s words ring with a palpable, poorly hidden desperation.

Flynn inhales. He looks down at the mouse… Its cord is broken and has been rendered completely useless. He looks up at NK’s expectant face and wide smile.

Flynn slides the broken mouse into his pocket.

“I want you to know that I say this with total tranquility, from a place of logic and reason.”

…

Flynn retrieves his hand back out of his pocket and points at NK.

“I will NEVER forgive you for this.”

NK’s whole face crumples. His bottom lip quivers…

But before he can reply, Kato takes a few steps closer… Nodding.

“Aha. Yes, Yes, I’ll tell him now. A thousand thanks upon you, Comrade Hot Dog.”

Kato hangs up the phone.

“What’s the word, Pig Whisperer?”

“Comrade Hot Dog confirmed what we already knew. The source of the attack was Professor Ned Kaye from the FXW Universe.”

Flynn exhales.

“What the Hell did we do to that guy? We freed the FXW Universe from being frozen.”

“Well, Professor Ned Kaye apparently remained unfrozen throughout. And he said something about we two spoiling his grand scientific experiment…”

“...Huh. When you put it like that… All right, makes sense. So… Step One… we find him. Step Two, we bend his arms the wrong way until they snap at the joint.”

“An excellent plan, Mark Flynn!” NK leans in, attempting to fawn and flatter his furious tag partner. “One that only one of your mental acumen could concoct! And with Agent Marie Davenport’s help, it’s certain we’ll have our attacker’s coordinates in no time.”

…Flynn closes his eyes and exhales.

“I said some… regrettable things to Agent Davenport. And SHE…” Flynn chatters his teeth together, rapidly blinking to keep from freaking the fuck out. “Has opted to NOT provide support.”

“Mark Flynn!!! You angered Agent Marie Davenport?!? What a thoughtless thing to do! Have you never considered the CONSEQUENCES of your act-”

Flynn’s eyes turn upwards and into daggers. NK immediately goes to cover his mouth, before itching the side of it, then turning around to look down the hallway like ‘Who said that?’...

…

Flynn turns back to Kato, who’s in the midst of typing a message.

“So, we’ll need to figure a… different… method to determine Professor Ned Kaye’s whereabouts.”

“I may be one step ahead of you, Coach Flynn…” Kato says as he wraps up his text. He looks up at Flynn. “Comrade Hot Dog, amidst our many discussions on the nature of interdimensional identity has communicated the uniqueness of the DNA signature of FXW residents.”

“Right. That’s how he isolated the Broadcast Delay, by that signature. Then, he contained it with timeproof pig DNA.”

“Yes! So…” The phone in Kato’s hand chirps. He glances down.

“Haha! Comrade Hot Dog confirmed my hypothesis exactly!”

Flynn’s eyes light up with excitement. “Really? Lemme see that!”

Flynn snatches the phone out of Kato’s hand to read the text… NK leans carefully to skim, over Flynn’s shoulder.



Flynn pinches the sides of his head. “...I don’t know what I was expecting.”

NK first smiles, nodding with recognition. Then he sees Flynn’s frustration and scratches his head, mirroring that confusion.

Flynn sighs, thrusting the phone back into Kato’s hands.

“Explain it to me in non-pig, please.”

“Well, in theory, one COULD use the signature of a second FXWer to triangulate the coordinates of another.”

A second text comes in. Kato nods, and goes to show it to Flynn. Flynn bats the phone back.

“Just talk. I’ll take your word for it.”

Kato retracts the phone.

“The unique genetic sequencing of an FXWer actually emits a detectable biometric signature. And that signature is altered nearing proximity to another at a factor relative to the inverse square of their distance.”

“Aha! I comprehend, Kato! So, if we had in our possession one FXW superstar, we could use them like as a detector of sorts!”

Flynn claps his hands.

“Great. We get one, we can find another. Who do we know that’s an FXW superstar?”

NK immediately raises his hand, excitedly!

Flynn sighs, refusing to acknowledge his partner.

“Kato, what about Hot Dog? He’s an FXW pig and you two are pals. Is he free?”

“Unfortunately, Coach Flynn, Comrade Hot Dog has more pressing matters he must attend to.”

***
A million miles and a thousand dimensional sequences away, a large snout presses against the side of a phone. The screen goes black.

FXW’s Hot Dog lies sideways, lounging across a throne of pillows, like an ancient Hog King. He is approached by a Twi’Lek girl, in a golden metallic bikini. She is unenthused to serve him, but not in an assaulty way, just in a ‘it sucks to work in food service’ way.

“Hello and welcome to Jabba’s Palace… where YOU get treated like the Boss. A Hutt Crime Boss, that is. How may I serve you today, Mighty Jabba?”

Hot Dog points his nose to the laminated menu on his table and grunts.

The Twi’Lek taps a pressed nail to the screen of her data pad.

“A 60 pound scoop from the trash compactor where we leave captured rebels to die. Excellent choice, Mighty Jabba. Would you like it served in a trough or between the breasts of our concubines?”

Hot Dog lets loose a guttural squeal.

“And do you have a preference of male or female concubines?”

Hot Dog exerts hot air out his nostrils.

“How very progressive of you, Mighty Jabba.” She rotates where she stands, calling back to the kitchen.

“GET ME A TAUNTAUN STOMACH OF REBEL SCUM, WRAPPED IN ALL THE TITTIES WE GOT!”

***

“But, finding a willing FXWer should be no problem! After all, Coach Flynn, you and the commander just saved 10,000 FXWers! I’m sure you’d have no shortage of volunteers.”

NK waves his hand back and forth excitedly, eager to share his idea!

Flynn exhales.

“Unfortunately, those 10,000 we saved are currently being processed by Interdimensional Immigration… They’re tied up in the bureaucracy now and under the heaviest level of monitoring by dozens of anti-multiverse special interest groups.”

***

Outside a brick government building, we see a number of protestors, waving American flags and holding up signs that say ‘GO BACK TO THE REALITY YOU CAME FROM’ and ‘DIMENSION XWF99 IS FOR PEOPLE FROM HERE’.

As you can imagine, there are a number of misspellings and typos.

***

“If one of those people goes missing, it’s going to be a powderkeg in the coal mine of current interdimensional relations.”

NK waves his hand right in front of Flynn’s face. Back and forth. Back and for-

Flynn catches NK’s hand, closing his eyes. He turns towards his partner, eyes firmly shut.

“NK, just tell us your idea.”

NK’s eyes narrow.

“Mark Flynn, why are your eyes closed? Is it an ocular infection of sorts?”

“...No, NK. I’m so… fuggin’ ANGRY… That I do not want to look at you.”

NK bites his bottom lip.

…

“Then… You may not want to hear my suggestion, Mark Flynn…”

***

The Interrogation Room.

Where Flynn first interviewed NK with a lie detector.

But this time, the partners sit shoulder-to-shoulder.

Flynn seething angry… Eyes firmly closed.

And NK checking his reflection in the two-way mirror to ensure he looks his best.

A buzzing sound…

The door opens.

And an inmate walks through the door.

An orange jumpsuit. His wrists bound in handcuffs.

A familiar face.

And a confident smile.

The stranger sits across from the tag champs.

“Gentlemen. A pleasure to see you again.”

The United Korean Peace Officer.

“I hope you’ve come in peace…”

***

“Hey Dolly. Long time, no see.”

“Comrade Waters! An absolute pleasure as always!”

“How’s that whole ‘journey of forming the world’s greatest tag-team thing’ going?”

“Let’s cut to the clip.”

Quote:After all the story I’m fixin’ to tell ya’ takes place around the Fall of 2021. That’s when professional wrestler, Dolly Waters met the rookie Robyn Gonzalez… the Latina Submission Machina and due to nothing but dumb-luck and circumstance, the two began the journey of forming the greatest tag-team in XWF History.

“Boy. It’s 8 months later and Dolly and LSM’s tag record is… 0-1.”

“Samuel Elliott is a fine mustache-grower, Mark Flynn. But when it comes to tag-team wrestling…”

“Sammy Els doesn’t know SHIT.”

Flynn and NK guffaw and circle each other, before slapping a low-five. NK looks into the camera, hands clasped apologetically.

“Before we go any further, we should establish our fierce affection for Comrade Dolly Waters.”

Flynn waves his hand dismissively, like it goes without saying. “Eh, Dolly’s great.”

“We ADORE Dolly Waters.”

“Sweet kid.”

The two nod in agreement.

…Suddenly, both point toward the sky.

“However!”

“If you didn’t think that we’d kick someone while they’re down…”

“Then you’ve clearly never seen us in the ring.”

NK and Flynn grin at each other with a sinister venom in their eyes…

“And Dolly? Hun?”

“Comrade Dolly Waters, we say this with peace and love.”

“You are DOWN.”

Flynn and NK both deliver simultaneous thumbs-down.

“You’re so far down, you’re next to Little-Timmy-stuck-in-the-well.”

“Comrade Dolly Waters, you are so far down, you’re at the ocean depth where the fish are no longer pleasant to look at.”

“Dolls, you’re so far down, you can hear the mole people digging above you.”

“Comrade Dolly Waters, you are so far down, you are beneath South Korea!”

Flynn goes to deliver another zinger… But that echoes rings through his ears and he double-takes…. His whole body shakes…

“Fuuuuuuuuuck, Dolly! For NK, that’s real fuckin’ low!” Flynn laughs and claps. NK smiles, blushing.

The two gather themselves and point at the camera.

“Our point, Comrade Dolly Waters?”

“The last time we faced off, we called out your misfit…”

“Ragtag…”

“Slipshod…”

“Thoughtless little partnership…”

“For the No-Chemistry pairing that we already knew it was.”

“Dolly Waters and Latina Submission Machina! The FUTURE GREATEST TAG-TEAM OF ALL-TIME!”

Flynn bursts out laughing, jabbing NK in the ribs.

“All right, all right, let’s not beat a dead horse.”

”Or a dead tag-team.”

“Or at this point, a dead career.”

NK cackles and shrugs.

“But I think such words are necessary, Mark Flynn! It is important to draw an important distinction between where we started from. And where we are now.”

“How do you mean, NK?”

“Dolly Waters and Latina Submission Machina were the first real team we ever faced together, Mark Flynn. Eight long months ago!”

“Wel-”

“Not counting The Green Order, a pair so hilariously incompetent, one could hardly call them a ‘Team’.”

“...True enough.” Flynn rotates to face the camera. “Quick Shout-out to Kai Morgan, who’s apparently climbed to the top of the tag division… on Madness. Reminder that we beat him in our debut match… in 28 seconds. Apparently, when you take away everyone else’s microphones, Kai is top talent… On the C-Show.”

“Regardless… In our first match against a pair of non-jobber opponents, we narrowly cleared the challenge Dolly Waters and LSM presented.”

Flynn sneers and spits on the ground.

“Narrowly, schmarrowly, NK. WE dominated 90% of that match. They got in some lucky moves, then they couldn’t finish the damn job. And even when they took control, you got ‘em with a counter and WE picked up the win.”

NK taps his nose excitedly.

“I agree whole-heartedly, Mark Flynn! We beat them as we were still putting the pieces together as a tag-team! And since then, we’ve only gotten better and better! Retooling our game week-in and week-out to become the top-team in the entire tag division!”

“You got that right. We’re the two-time XWF Tag Team Champions.”

“We defeated Them No Good Bastards three times, APEX once… Double Trouble… AND Can-Am Express! Our last tag-team loss was against Besty Granger and Lycana SIX MONTHS AGO! And YOU even took back that loss by beating Betsy Granger at the Denzel Porter Invitational.”

“Yep, yep, yep. We’ve been on the hottest hot streak. Since we beat Dolly last time, we’ve ascended like a rocket to the top of the XWF.”

“...Which, naturally, brings us to what Dolly Waters has been up to since September…”

“Which is, NOT FUCKIN’ WINNING.”

Flynn and NK stretch their arms forward.

Flynn extends his index finger.

“Jason Cashe!”

NK extends his index finger

“Boots Lichter!”

Flynn’s middle finger.

“Rampage!”

NK’s middle finger.

“Ringmaster!”

Flynn’s ring finger.

“Jim Caedus!”

NK’s ring finger.

“And us.”
…

…NK double checks his hand… Then, nods raising his pinky.

Seven fingers up total.

“What do these men have in common?”

“They’ve all beaten Dolly Waters.”

“Only difference is, back when we did it, it was a fuckin’ accomplishment around here!”

“It’s most humorous to recollect back in August when we cut those promos about how Latina Submission Machina was the weak link. And TODAY, Latina Submission Machina is a two-time Anarchy champion.”

“And Dolly is just a fuckin’ disappointment.”

The tag champs guffaw together.

“For real, Dolly. You’re like 20 years old. How are you already a hasbeen?”

“Not to mention what a downgrade Comrade Dolly Waters has in tag-team partners…”

“True. If you wanna talk about losing streaks?”

Flynn leans in, pressing a hand to his face like he’s telling a secret.

“We fuckin’ looked it up. RL hasn’t won a match since March… of TWENTY-TWENTY-ONE.”

NK pushes Flynn’s face out of the camera and takes his place.

“THIRTEEN MONTHS! And that victory was a six-man match where Ned Kaye and Charlie Nickles carried him!”

Flynn pushes him back until they share the screen.

“So, take that equation… Then add what a slump Dolly is on!”

“Comrade Dolly Waters has lost FIVE of her last six matches! And half those losses were in the last few months! Back when her return started… Comrade Dolly Waters was the heavy favorite to win the Plump Pigeon!”

“Then, she got herself eliminated earlier than anyone else mathematically in her block!”

…NK counts on his fingers, checking his partner’s math. He shakes his head.

“Actually, Mark Flynn, she’s not QUITE eliminated yet. If she wins the rest of her matches and Jason Cashe loses the rest of his… She may narrowly tie the best record.”

Flynn’s eye twitches, irritated by the incorrect correction.

“Yeah, they’d tie in RECORD. But she lost to Cashe, so he’d go on to the finals over her when considering tie breaking rules. The only ones really left in contention are Boots, Cashe and HGH… And Cashe already beat HGH, so HGH has to win his last two and Cashe has to lose his last two, otherwise the best HGH can do is tie.”

Flynn looks up to the right, checking his figuring. After a moment, he nods satisfied.

“Either way, Dolly is out.”

NK’s fingers continue to weave through the air, making calculations. Until eventually, his hand drops back limp at his side.

“...Hmm. After considering all outcomes, you are correct, Mark Flynn.”

Flynn smiles, his brow relaxes.

“IF!” NK calls out, raising his hand. Flynn immediately tenses back up like he’s about to deck his partner in the face.

“If! We assume that the tiebreaker is decided by who beat who earlier in the block, instead of a tiebreaking match!”

Flynn tilts his head confused.

“...Why the Hell would they do that, NK?”

NK shrugs.

“I don’t know, Mark Flynn. Why would Theo Pryce schedule us against two people who have won a single combined match in the last eight months?”

Flynn raises his finger again to argue.

…

Then, he drops it.

“…Fair point. It doesn’t make a fuckin’ SHRED of sense to stack Dolly and RL against the most dominant tag team in XWF history.”

…

“Though… I do have a working theory there.”

“Tell me, Mark Flynn.”

“Theo is running fuckin’ loooooooooooow on cards to play.”

NK strokes his chin. Then he smashes his fist into his hand.

“Mark Flynn! You’ve cracked the case!”

Flynn and NK sneer and bump fists.

“I get it, Theo. We beat The Bastards AND APEX.”

“The four heads on XWF’s Tag-Team Mount Rushmore.”

“Until we decapitated them.”

“Just like I plan to do one day to the ACTUAL Mount Rushmore!”

Flynn’s face contorts in a mixture of astonished horror. He… gently pats his partner on the shoulder.

“Uh… It might be a crime just to SAY that… But, way to dream big, bud?”

“Many thanks, Mark Flynn. I graduated first in my Aspirations and Vision Board Creating Class at Cental Command.”

The two gather themselves then point back at the camera.

“We’ve beaten your cute pet project, Double Trouble, Theo Pryce!”

“And we’ve beaten the Bastards THREE TIMES!”

“In three different combinations!”

“And now…”

Flynn weaves his forearm in a circle in front of him.

“Poor Theo the Magnificent is running out of magic tricks.”

“He’s looking in his ol’ black bag… And what’s he got in there.”

“A deck that’s all jokers.”

“A dead rabbit.”

“And at the very bottom of the bag…Dolly Waters and RL Edgar.”

“A team that had one match.

“That it LOST.”

“And y’know the best part, NK?”

“What’s that, Mark Flynn?”

“We’ve sent so much of the division to the unemployment line…”

“And/or the Emergency room.”

“That it really is the best play he has.”

Flynn and NK look into the camera, grinning ear-to-ear.

“But just because it’s Theo’s best play to dethrone us.”

“Doesn’t mean it even has a snowball’s chance in Hell of working.”

“Dolly? RL?”

“Your cute family tag-team project.”

“Is about to get fucking torn asunder.”

“Just like Comrade Waters’ ACL.”

Fade to Black