Domestic Relations

Scene I: Lincoln, NE - Atwood House Bed and Breakfast - Thursday, February 13, 2003

A knock at the door summoned the Duchess, who was sipping contently on a cup of tea.  She wiped her mouth with her napkin, and walked on the plush red carpet to the front door, where she was greeted by a smiling young girl, perhaps 18 or 19 at most.  Stephanie smiled brightly at the obviously nervous young girl.

"OH MY GOD!" shrilled the girl, who waved her hands in front of her mouth as seemingly all women did when surprised.

The Duchess laughed slightly.

"Yes? I take it you're Shannon."

"Oh my God, I mean...yes, I am...and you're the Duchess of Wessex!!"

Steph blushed.

"Please, do come in."  Shannon was the third person to come to the Duke and Duchess' temporary lodging at the elegant Atwood House Bed and Breakfast that afternoon.

Steph showed her in to the sitting area. "Would you like a drink or anything before we get underway?"

Shannon, still taken aback, smiled.  "No thank you, I'm fine.  I suppose I should get right down to it."  She removed her backpack and pulled out a resume.  Steph put her hand out as if to stop her.

"Please, don't worry about that for now, just tell me about yourself."

Shannon settled down a bit, and put her resume aside.

"Well my name is Shannon Robins.  I'm an arts major at Nebraska State University, and I'm a sophomore."

Steph's interest peaked when she mentioned art, a passion she herself shared.

"I was an art student myself, and..."

"And you went to the London School of Economics, I know."  Shannon smiled, but was embarassed for cutting off the Duchess.  Her enthusiasm was nearly blinding.

"Why yes I did.  You know quite a bit about me.  Do you watch my husband wrestle?"

Shannon shook her head negatively. "Oh I'm not interested in that.  I am just a really avid follower of the Royal Family.  I want to move to England someday actually."

"Oh don't bother love, too much bloody rain all the time."

"Better than the bloody cold," replied Shannon.  The girls laughed, when they were interrupted by the entrance of the Duke of Wessex, who was returning from the gym.

The Duke looked over at Shannon, who was very attractive.  Blond hair, blue eyes, and a very...pleasing figure.

"I'm sorry ladies I hope I'm not interrupting anything am I?"  Lancaster placed his gym bag down when Shannon shrieked again.

"OH MY GOD!"

Lancaster looked up to the ceiling.  "She's calling you Lord..."

Shannon immediately corrected herself. "I'm so sorry!! It's you."

"Yes, it's me," said Lancaster with a smirk.  Stephanie shook her head.  Lancaster walked over and shook her hand.

"A pleasure to meet you Miss..."

"Robins."

"Miss Robins."  The Duke kissed her hand gently.  "Welcome.  I take it you're here to apply for the babysitter's job."

"No actually Robert her and I were going to get down and dirty before you interrupted."

Lancaster opened the modest sized refrigerator and removed a Perrier, and consumed most of it in one gulp, having just returned from a long intense work-out.

"Well by all means do not let me stop you."

"Actually Robert, we were just having a word about her interests."

"Ah, I see. Well how about your experience, and your availability?"  The Duke plunked down in a leather chair opposite the couch the two ladies were sitting on.  He wanted to get the interviewing process done and over with, as they had a busy afternoon looking at homes to attend to.  His financial advisor was able to sell their condominium in Memphis easily, and had faxed the Duke a selection of homes that would be considered appropriate.

"Well..."

"First hold on, just so you know, the job pays twenty dollars an hour.  Now, what do you do."

"I'm a student."

"In that case make it forty dollars an hour.  I hope that's acceptable."

"Oh yes, very.  You don't have to pay me that much."

Stephanie patted her knee. "Believe me hun he can afford to.  He's in the Mafia you know."

Lancaster pointed at the two, finishing his Perrier.  "Aw now you know I have to kill you both now."

Shannon giggled loudly.  Good.  She has a sense of humour.

"Come along where were we.  Ah. Availability."

"I'm free pretty much any night, just try and give me a day's notice or so.  My cell number is on my resume."

The Duke extended his hand, gesturing for the resume.  Lancaster glanced it over briefly, before smiling and looking up at Shannon.

"Miss Robins, welcome aboard.  Now if you'll excuse me, I have to make a call.  My wife will introduce you to Edward if she hasn't done so already."

"Thank you so much Robert...erm, Mr. Lancaster."

"Robert's fine love."  He smiled and shook her hand once again.  Lancaster's gut told him she was the perfect person for the job.  But there were other things that had to be attended to.

Scene II: Lincoln, NE - 9220 Tuscan Court, new home of the Lancaster's - Friday, February 14, 2003

If Hell were a maze of boxes, then 9220 Tuscan Court - the new home of the Duke and Duchess of Wessex in Lincoln, Nebraska - was surely Hell.  Boxes and giannt crates, all containing their furniture from their Memphis condominium, and some additional pieces previously shipped over from England, lined the hallways and filled the various rooms of their new 6917 square foot home.

It was located on the grounds of a golf club, which was ideal for Lancaster, and was equipped with four bedrooms, and five bathrooms, all for a cool $835 000 US.  After taking a brief tour, and consulting with his wife, he had little hestitation in writing out a cheque in the full amount and giving it to Ms. Harder, their real estate agent.

It was late that night, Valentine's Day, of course, and the Duke and Duchess ate out that night.  Nothing extraordinarily luxurious, but still, nice.  The Lancasters did not put too much stock in Valentine's Day, but still made an effort to show their love.

On the Duke's mind was more than love however, knowing that the first ever Wildfire! was close at hand.  He dragged out his camcorder and decided to address the locker room, and more specifically, his opponents.

Lancaster had dragged out one of his favourite chairs, a  leatherback one, one that wasn't being used back at his estate in Wessex.  Surrounded by boxes and sitting in what would be the library - not nearly the size of the one he had at home - he began to speak his mind.

"Well, good evening there.  I hope all of you out there have had a very lovely Saint Valentine's Day.  Welcome to our new home here in marvellous Lincoln, Nebraska.  Actually, it's not that spectacular - rather cold actually.  But no matter.  Come Sunday, things are bound to heat up."

"And that brings me to my match, versus either Napalm, Quinn Tate, and the man whose pig fettish is overwhelming, Jonny Five.  Mr. Tate, I come to you first.  You have been good enough to speak to me, and have stated that you have no qualm with me.  For that I thank you.  You truly are one of the most talented cruiserweights I have ever seen, and although you question my war of words with a certain someone..."

Lancaster reaches over and holds up a picture of Longshanks.

"...comparing it to sticking my phallus into an electric socket - ouch - I admire you highly.  And as for inserting His Grace into a socket - I choose to do those things most men would not dare.  As you do, when you fly in the ring.  I think we understand each other, so if it is you whom I must face at Wildfire, I do look forward to it highly."

"That brings me to Napalm, who has been conspicuous by his silence.  How disappointing, I hoped to hear what you had to say, regarding your hopes of capturing the Great Plains Championship.  I respect your war with the Darkness, and I hope that you and your Authority mates are able to thrash them into oblivion. I do hope you are ready for this tournament, for if it is you I must face, I do anticipate the might and power you are known for.  Here's to you, Napalm."

"Finally though, perhaps one of the most foul, odious gentlemen in the glorious CSWA.  Mr. Five.  You too have been silent.  Thankfully, however, this says more than you know.  Perhaps you are sitting at home infuriated by your recent betrayal.  Believe me I know how that is - a fellow named Louis Bourbon did the same to me - very unsporting of him.  However you lost one of your true mates.  What a blow.  I only hope that you shall not blow in the ring, and I know that you shall not.  Use your anger and seek vengeance on whomever you must face.  I have not forgotten our brief encounter during that eight man tag several weeks back.  I did so enjoy your taunts and ridicule.  Bring all of that, and more.  You shall need it."

"For now, ladies and gentlemen.  Sit at home with your loved ones, have some champagne, some caviar...I wish you them and do hope you dream of them.  And Napalm, Quinn, Jonny - Happy Valentine's Day."

The Duke of Wessex raises a champagne glass as the scene fades.