The shot opens up to a hotel room. Not just any hotel room, but one that clearly is designed for those who appreciate moments in time away from the rough-and-tumble of whatever their regular life is. The room is luxurious, with plush carpets, elegant furnishings, and stylish decor. As the camera pans around, we take in a bed dressed in soft linens, with fluffy pillows and a down comforter peaking out from beneath an ever-growing pile of equally sophisticated clothes. The tall windows behind silhouette the scene, with a stunning view of downtown Houston stretching off into the distance.

“What do people even wear to press conferences anymore?” Into the shot walks ‘The Last Magician’ Sally Talfourd donned in a bathrobe, hair tied up in a towel. As she walks, she holds two dresses to the camera, “White with black polka dots? Or green floral?”

From behind the camera, “Green floral.”

Sally nods, seemingly in agreement, “Ok, white with black it is.”

“Why did you even ask?”

“Oh Shayne,” Sally lowers the dresses, tilting her head in an adorable fashion, “I didn’t get this far by actually listening to you.”

Shayne the cameraman remarks very quickly, “You know we’re recording?”

An awkward moment, a pregnant pause, “And you didn’t think to wait – I don’t know – five minutes for me to get dressed?”

The cameraman smirks (not that we can see it), “Five minutes? For you to get ready?”

Sally with a resigned look, “OK. You’re right. Let’s get this going …”

She tosses the green floral dress onto that pile we saw on the bed, then disappears to carefully hang up the other dress before reappearing.

“Hello! Welcome, regular fans and little magicians! And an even bigger welcome to new fans and new magicians!” Sally opens her arms out wide, “Come on in and get a hug. Doesn’t matter if you’re watching on your phone, streaming on your laptop or your TV…get on in here!”

Sally steps in towards the camera. At the same time, the cameraman has stepped into here. A thud, a stumble, and Sally comes out rubbing her temple.

“What was that!?”

Shayne nervously replies, “I didn’t know you were going to try and hug the camera!”

She glares as she pushes her fingers into the site of the clash, “This better not bruise. I can’t have my first appearance at XWF start with a lame bruise.”

“Well, why don’t we talk about that then – your debut,” Shayne says loudly, before mumbling, “Instead of complaining.”

Sally’s eyes narrow, hearing enough of that mumble to know it’s not good. But, instead of taking the bait, a new face and demeanour wash over her. Her smile is back, her shoulder are square, she’s a changed woman, “Great idea Shayne. Let’s finish the introductions, then get into the stuff the people switched on for.”

Sally places a hand over her heart, “I’m Sally Talfourd. I’ll be the person you see in the ring wrestling and all that. And behind the camera is Shayne. He’ll be the person you don’t need to worry about. We’ve recently signed contracts with XWF to do our magic. You’ll see it all here on our streaming series: The Last Magician. I can’t believe we’re in season 8 of this! Can you, Shayne?”

“No, I cannot,” There is a distinct lack of enthusiasm in his voice, “I would have thought 16 at least.”

“Well you’re a downer,” Sally has enough enthusiasm to compensate, “But not me! And not those loyal fans and all you soon to be fans. You’ll be on the edge of your seats waiting for the next episode. And, thanks to XWF you’re going to get it!”

Sally gestures for Shayne to follow. She arrives at the large window overlooking Houston, “Here in the heart of Texas, we have the stage for our first performance. The spotlights are ready and the stage is set. March Madness, ladies and gentlemen. An act for the ages!”

Shayne zooms in on the skyline. There’s the J. P. Morgan Chase Tower. Just next to it, the Bank of America Center. Then gleaming, seemingly catching all of the sun’s light, is the Wells Fargo Bank Plaza.

“You know, I’ve been lucky in this business. This is my twentieth year in this business and every time I arrive in a city for a show – whether I’ve been here or not – I always count my blessings,” The camera pans across, taking in a profile of Sally still drinking in the view, “Sometimes I look at these skyscrapers filled with offices and wonder: How can the people inside be happy? They don’t get to do what we do. It’s not like if you do all your work well enough for a year they make you Paperweight Champion. What do they have?”

“For starters: Less visits to hospitals,” Shayne’s quip gets a chuckle from Sally.

“You’re not wrong there, Shayne,” Sally grins as she turns back to front-up with the camera, “And I suppose a ‘normal’ life for ‘normal’ people is suited. But us wrestlers…we’re not normal, are we?"

Sally starts to walk across the room, throwing a hand in the air, “Take this scenario, for example. Where in the world right now is any normal person about to step into the ring against, well, how should we put it?" She turns back to the camera as she takes a seat at the foot of the bed, “A tough good ol’ boy from West Virginia and, well, fight him? Who gets to say that they are going to see how they match up against someone who proudly proclaims himself the Mad Dog? A man who was party to what appeared to be a murder just last week.”

“Ummm,” Shayne, “Maybe we shouldn’t comment on that? I’m sure it’s an open investigation.”

“Probably,” Sally nods solemnly, “Rest in peae Johsons. But anyway: Let’s just hope we walk out from this match all in one piece with a pulse, right?”

“Anything else would be a bonus.”

“You mean like progressing to the next round of March Madness?” Sally’s eye’s light up, “That wouldn’t just be a bonus: That would be a dream! Our first match for XWF, we win and we’re into the Sweet 16? That’s a dream right there Shayne. But, you know, first is first and…”

“Mark Wright.”

“Yep, Mark Wright.”

“I suppose he’s only a few steps ahead of me in all his XWF career. He’s been here since the start of the year and has had what? Less than a handful of matches? That’s got to be helpful in the sense that both he and his manager Sunny Jim are not that much more familiar with what XWF is all about. What the fans are expecting. How far you can push the line with the refs. Heck: If the ring is half an inch larger than anywhere else you’ve been. It’s you ability to learn and then know those little things that give you an upper hand. I doubt he has it yet. I know I don’t. So we’re on a bit of an even playing field.”

Shayne now finds a seat directly across from Sally, “That can only work for your advantage, right?”

Sally shifts in her seat to lean forward, resting her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands, “Perhaps. Perhaps not though. A less experienced wrestler – someone in this business for the blink of an eye – could easily see weaknesses where there are in an even playing field. I’m sure there’s been plenty of people over the years who’ve faced Mark and said something like ‘Ugh, a hillbilly redneck from West Virginia – how smart can he be? I’ll beat him with brains and win the match!’ You and I have been at this too long Shayne to know it’s as simple as that. You could be as smart as – well – whatever the smartest thing is now. And that will count for naught when you’ve blow coming off the top rope and a guy like Mark is now kneeling on you and the fists are reigning down.”

“So what’s on your side? What do you have going for you?”

She stops to think, a brief insight into the patience and planned approach Sally takes to being in and out of the ring, “Let’s start with experience – as I said: Twenty years in the ring this year which has resulted in a pretty solid record. All said and done though, what you’ve done in the past doesn’t much count for what you will do next week, so let’s not dwell there. Actual technical experience? I mean, Shayne: That’s got to count for something. We are, after all, in a wrestling match. The brawler types like Mark – there’s never much of a plan, you know? They are tough, sure. Tenacious too. They don’t give up. But I have found over the years that they also don’t know where they are going.”

Shayne is interested now, getting deep into the wrestling discussion, “How so?”

“If you’re just there to beat someone up, all you’re looking for is a place to hit,” Sally holds up her arms in a defence pose, covering her face, “Oh, my opponent is blocking their head? I’ll just go for the body,” Sally shifts her block to her chest, “Oh, now I’ll go for the head. There’s not much strategy, not much planning. Now, you and I haven’t got the pen and paper out yet but you know as well as I do the planning I will be putting in. The strategy. The art of the match. We’re going to go and watch his Snow Job match. We are going to watch it again and again and pinpoint exactly where he lost it before the 1-2-3. On first viewing, he came out like a rabid dog but then he faded to the point that by the end of the match the only thing keeping him in it was just the drive to not give up. Now there’s something to exploit there – the fact that he will come out and come out hard. But there’s something to be wary of: That tenacity. It won’t be easy to put him away, even when he’s out of fuel.”

From across the room, that iconic iPhone alarm rings out. Sally sits bolt upright, a sudden panic about here.

“What’s the time?” She races across the room, her  towels holding firm, fumbling with the phone, “Oh man! We’re going to be late! Late Shayne!”

Shayne seems to have checked his watch or his phone in amongst the frenzy, “There’s still, what? Two? Two and a half hours until we need to get to the arena?”

“Yes, that’s a problem,” Sally tosses the phone on the bed, then gestures to her clear state of not readiness, “Only two and a half hours!?”

Sally starts to sweep across the room like a gale-force wind, sweeping up the white dress with black polka-dots.

“How are we going to wrap this episode up?”

Sally stops on the spot, looks straight ahead, thinking for a moment, “Well, definitely not watching me get dressed. I don’t know – go and look out the window again!”

And with that instruction, the episode will come toa  close. Shayne walks over to the window, taking in the skyline once more – the setting of the first chapter in a new book about Sally Talfourd.

> XWF record: 0-0-0
> Career record: 277-85-21