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Elisha · **05-14-2013, 09:29 AM**

*Eric Rex has almost had an entire week to think about the actions of Wallace Witasick on Wednesday Warfare. He's been playing it back over and over in his head. The moment when Witasick, cackling, dropped his entire contract salary onto the audience. The moment when Witasick thought he had won. Eric Rex wasn't angry about the money, necessarily. He knew he was set. As he told Wallace and the XWF faithful days before, his primary income didn't come from the XWF anyway. It was the principle of the matter. It was that laugh. Eric Rex, had been affected, even if he'd never admit it. He didn't have to. Sal Valencia, his only friend and attorney, could feel it. Even though there was no trace of any emotion emitting from the cold-blooded mercenary, he knew. It sent chills down his spine. But, as they sat there in Sal's new office with their newest employee, the Russian, Victor Gobalsky, he also knew that they had to ignore that fact to push on to pressing matters.*

Victor: So, you fight Seabass, and you suplex him hard! You can not just piledrive him. He too strong. You must JUMP and piledrive, no?

Sal: For the love of...Will you please just be quiet for ONE min...

Victor: HA HA! YES! Then the ELBOW DROP will surely end match, no?

Sal: NO ONE CAN THINK! JUST SHUT UP! Since you got here, it's all, "Elbow drop this! Claw that! Bearhug this!" THERE'S NO MATCH! We're on strike!

Victor: Why? Why not battle in glorious combat?

Sal: It's the PRINCIPLE, Vic. This isn't the USSR, okay? Nobody works for free. There won't be any match until Wallace Witasick pays us the money he owes.

Victor: But what about fan? What about fan pay money? They want to see them fight, no?

Sal: Screw the fans!

Victor: Even...the children?

*Before Sal blows a gasket, Eric Rex interjects. There's no need for Sal to get himself hurt today.*

Eric: Victor, I already told you about the kids. They're going to be fine. Remember?

Victor: Yes.

Eric: Remember when I told you that it's not about "glorious combat" Wednesday? That I have nothing to prove to these people? That they already know how dangerous I am?

Victor: Yes, I remember.

Eric: Okay. Sal, have we gotten any calls this week?

Sal: Not since Saturday, since I took Sunday off.

Eric: Before we pack for tomorrow, check the envelope. Make sure it's still there.

*Sal pulls out a drawer from his desk, but before he can reach inside, smoke billows out. As it clears, a ninja can now be seen standing on top of the desk. He has a briefcase in his hand. Victor shield his eyes in terror.*

Victor: GOLEM!

Ninja: The master sends me with something that belongs to you, Eric Rex.

*The ninja steps off the table and kneels in front of Rex, extending the briefcase. He takes it, and hesitates for a moment.*

Sal: Are we LIVING in Pulp Fiction!? Again with this. Just open it!

*Eric Rex cracks it open. Inside are rolls of $100 bills. He begins to count.*

Ninja: My brothers and sisters recovered this before your match with Rick Jones. Wallace dropped it all on US.

*Sal laughs.*

Sal: This is great! We couldn't have planned it any better!

Eric: We did. This isn't all. This is $100,000. Where's the $25,000?

Ninja: Finder's fee.

Sal: THIS IS PREPOS...

Eric: Fair enough. Thank you. Tell your master we owe him.

Ninja: He knows.

*The ninja tosses another smoke bomb and escapes.*

Sal: The monster's gone, Vic. *coughcough* Does Marlboro make those things?

Eric: The envelope?

Sal: Yeah. It's here, everything's in place. Samantha's packing the bags, buddy.

Victor: Am I buddy?

Sal: No. You're a Russian. Americans can never be friends with commies. WIlliam McKinley said that. He was always my favorite president.

Eric: You're both employees. Play time is over. Now, we go to work.

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