HOUR_12

After TWELVE hours of insults, death-threats, and blood-magic…

With Mark Flynn, Wrestling Union Co-President, fighting tooth-and-nail, keeping conversation solution-oriented…

…At last, the Vampire Council and Vampire-Truckers near resolution!

Flynn, as mediator, records the proposal…

”Okay! Deal terms…” Flynn raises his draft.

”Five-percent power re-allocation… to the Vampire-Truckers!”

”In exchange, the Truckers agree… twenty-four months, no strikes. The Council’s shipping routes’ll run like clockwork. If you’ll both si-”

”Unacceptable.”

Both sides burst into bickering!

Al, lead Vampire-Trucker, quells his coven.

”Parasite! YOU proposed these terms!”

”After reconsideration? Insufficient. Trading one-twentieth of the Council’s power for TEMPORARY relief… If, perhaps, this strike waiver were… permanent.”

”You kidding?!? Collective action’s our only defense! I ain’t SELLING our shield for CRUMBS!”

”Greedy. Five-percent would sufficiently increase your power.”

”It’s one-QUARTER of our initial demands! WE don’t own European castles! We RENT! D’yaknow how bad inflation affects RENT when you’re IMMORTAL!?!”

”Your plight moves me.” Damian rubs his fingers together. ”I shall play you a dirge… on my microscopic harpsichord.”

”GUYS!” Flynn raises his arms…

Flynn spins on the Council Leader. ”Dame! YOU PROPOSED THIS! TWO MINUTES AGO!”

”Afterwards, I found it… unsatisfactory.”

”WHILE I WROTE IT DOWN!?!”

”Mister Flynn, if *you* tire of mediating… Perhaps, President Graves would be better-suited.”

”Keep your fangs on, Drac… STARTIN’ AGAIN!”

---

HOUR_37

”Alright…” Flynn lifts the draft…

”Four-and-ONE-QUARTER-percent to the Truckers…”

”And the Council shall open a position, held by a Trucker representative. Who needs a pen?”

”Unacceptable. The Council has NEVER admitted a vampire less-than-FIVE generations from our originator! Tradition deman-”

”FffffUCK tradition! You FREAKS meet surreptitiously to SCREW Working Vamps! We DEMAND representation! Transparency!”

”Tensions… rising… Perhaps ‘mediator-substitution’ would soothe proceedings...”

Flynn rips the draft, eyeing Damian furiously.

---

HOUR_68

Flynn’s teeth grind.

Scrawling so hard, blood oozes beneath his fingernails.

…He finishes.

”NOW… Terms ar-”

”Unacceptable.”

”FFFFFFFFFUCK.” Flynn frisbees the draft!

”…So… emotional. Perhaps if Micheal Graves was here…”

Flynn stares daggers at Damian!

”Ohhhhhh, you want GRAAAAAAAAVES?!? Careful whatchu ffffFFFFFFFUCKING WISH FOR!”

Flynn storms out!

…

WHAM!

Wrestling Union Co-President ‘Micheal Graves’ KICKS-IN the door!

”ALRIGHT!”‘Graves’ points at Damian. ”YOU PASTY COLONEL-SANDERS-LOOKIN’ FFFFFFFU-!”

”Hold.”

…Damian performatively strokes his chin.

”Graves’s words… move me.”

”Give the thin-bloods their demands.”

…Damian extends his hand…

…Al begrudgingly shakes.

Newscameras flash!

…‘Graves’... squints perplexedly…

---

At Flynn’s storage-unit, Irwin opens a newspaper.

Headline…

MICHEAL GRAVES ENDS VAMPIRE-TRUCKER STRIKE!

Subtitle…

Also, Vampires REAL?!?

”It’s CONFOUNDING, Ir-dawg! I work… THREE DAYS! Coordinating deals… Carefully tuning the power scales…”

Flynn puts up an ‘O’.

”ZERO movement. Then, ‘Graves’ waltzes in… Wham! Deal’s done before he’s SAT DOWN!”

”Surprised?” Miss Furry, ‘Graves’-Student, interrupts, pouring a waterjug over her drinking-bowl. ”Student Flynn, vampiric mediation is like… herding cats. But, Master Graves, found the fe-LINE linking thei-!”

Flynn dips a finger in Furry’s bowl… and flicks water on her nose!

”HISS!” Furry retreats, dropping the bowl!

”It was BIZARRE, Ir-wig. One moment… a battle of WILLS. A CAGEMATCH.”

“...Then, suddenly… one side just… taps-out?!?”

”Odd, indeed! But, great press for the Wrestling Union!” Irwin lifts the newspaper. ”This article says ‘Graves’ pulled off a mediation miracle! The truckers get power, Council representation, AND they keep their option-to-strike!”

”It’s proof you and… ‘Graves’…” Finger-quotes. “Really can achieve the impossible!”

”...You’re right, Irmano.” Flynn eyes narrow. ”That deal was… impossibly good…”

…

”Something… wrong, Mister Flynn?”

”Ir-winner, way-back-when, they called me ‘Free-Win’ Flynn.”

”I know better than ANYONE…”

“A free-win only comes…”

“When your opponent’s *actually* playing a different game.”

”Ohhhhhh! D’ya’think the Council’s playing chess while the Truckers play checkers?”

”All I know? If the Council’s allowing an Operation to slice their Monopoly, they must consider the Trucker’s demands… a Trivial Pursuit.”

”The Council’s taking a Risk, focusing on a bigger Battleship?”

”…Perhaps.”

”Sounds like Trouble!”

”Okay, no more boardgame puns.”

”Sorry!”

”IRWIN.”

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK.

…

”When’d we install a knocker?”

---

Flynn opens his door…

Outside…

Damian…

Vampire Council Leader…

Grinning.

”May I… enter?”

---

Y’ever feel like you’re being played?

A pawn in another’s game?

…Well, of course *you* do, Powers.

Billion-dollar Victim of Thaddy Warbucks’s market-manipulation.

Thad STRIPPED everyone’s X-Bux…

AND STOLE your resurrection-based healthcare.

…Didn’t Theo PROMISE post-retirement… ?

Quote:All roster members will keep their health insurance…

Guess Pryce’s Exit Promises were ALL… “less-than-ironclad”.

…See.

THIS is the Union’s opponent.

CORPORATE MALFEASANCE.

YOUR hard-earned money?

YEARS of bloody, sweaty labor?

Wiped away in an INSTANT.

Just because Management could.

That’s the power differential between US and THEM.

That’s why WE.

MUST.

UNITE.

…

But, somehow…

Mister Powers…

ROBBED BY CORPORATE GREED!

Who should be leading the Revolution’s battle-cry!

…

Thinks the real problem?

Is us Revolutionaries…

‘Commies’

I guess it’s anti-capitalist…

To be FURIOUS.

Over Theo Pryce’s DOOFUS NEPHEW.

ROBBING US BLIND.

…

Sure.

The Revolution’s *definitely* the problem.

Dick.

Or…

Richard now, right?

The FUCK happened, Powers?

Once the XXXWF’s vibratingnt dynamo.

The hot-pink, King of Kink.

Now?

You’re a shriveled, flaccid micro-worm.

The Lord of Lovin’... Consumed-by-hate.

Your heart’s hardened… Something else has gone soft.

…

Your connection with the XWF Universe.

You were once the People’s Dick.

Now? You’re just an ASSHOLE.

…

I empathize, Powers.

I do.

Robbed by the Powers-That-Be.

Duke, Principle, Gold, Masterson…

Playing XWF’s Monopoly…

Flaunting their brand-new funny-money.

While the talent’s pockets are emptied.

THEY roll the dice.

But, somehow, WE end up paying their rent.

…

You’re a businessman, Dick.

Editor-in-Chief, Dick Powers Quarterly.

Lemme pitch you…

The Revolution.

The OPPORTUNITY!

To USURP these POWER-HUNGRY MORONS.

And return CONTROL to the TALENT.

…

Let’s play, Dick.

OUR game.

Not theirs.

*They* want US fighting each-other.

For their little gold trinket.

One THEY’VE established THEY could strip from either of us…

Whenever it tickles them.

…

I getcha, Dick.

You’re broke.

Can’t afford another bum-deal.

Lemme demonstrate the Revolution’s power.

Free-of-charge.

In fact, The Revolution’ll GIVE you TWO things Sunday.

…

One?

The most one-sided ASS-KICKING of your ENTIRE CAREER.

…

Then?

A hand.

Helping you RISE!

Off the mat.

Into the Revolution.

…

C’mon, 'Rich'.

Join Us.

You're a Dick.

Stop getting fucked.