Dr. Abortion is in his locker
room. He is accompanied by Ms. C, Roe and Wade. He paces back and forth.
Dr. A: So, Team Abortion. Here we are. A big thing has been
thrown in our laps. I have it within my power to win yet another championship…
the Dedication Title. A belt based on continual work ethic, a drive to succeed,
promise, talent, and all those other good things.
Roe: Sheesh, why did you get a shot at it then?
Dr. A: Shut up, you filthy midget.
Ms. C: Look Doc, you don’t need to try and explain it to us.
Besides, if anyone is to be explaining, it is me. I run this party. You are the
puppet, don’t ever forget that, Dr. Abortion. You are a simple tool for
television. I use you to get what I want. I tell you what to do, I decide your
fate, I control you.
Dr. A: Shhh! Stop saying it in front of the midgets.
Wade: We already know it doc. You whipped man, you.
Dr. A: Well, at least I’m getting some.
Ms. C: *whispering* No he isn’t.
Dr. A: Huh?
Ms. C: Nothing.
Dr. A: Well. Cameras could be watching you know. This SHOW fed
has a total invasion-of-privacy policy. Do you know how embarrassing it would
be if everyone knew that everything I did was told to me by Ms. C. It’s
supposed to look like she’s my loyal valet and prize.
Ms. C: SHH! We’ve fallen off topic. The point is that this is
more than about a stupid belt. It is more than a piece of gold at stake. This
could mean the end of the French Embassy at the SHOW arena.
Roe: And amen to that. I mean, that angle is soooo lame. Who
ever does anything with that angle?
A moment of silence.
All: Chevalier.
Ms. C: And that’s why it is essential you win this match. Make it
dirty. Take every short cut you possibly can. We have to end everything that
Chevalier stands for here. Frenchness. Goodieness. All that crap.
Dr. A: I am a xenophobe, so that does help. But I mainly hate
Australians. Not Frenchmen. But I can make an acceptation.
Wade: Beat that Frenchie with a baguette. Make sure he never is
able to walk again. Make him sorry for being an inferior white devil. Make him
pay for his people’s shipment of members of the chosen lost tribe of Shabazz to
the French Caribbean islands, where they died in the sugarcane fields to make
his fat, rich, French belly fuller.
Dr. A: I thought you ended the whole ‘Nation of Islam’ gimmick.
Wade: I did. I just remember all the material I had to read up
on it. I figured I might as well use it.
Dr. A: Ah.
Ms. C: So anyway guys… all three of you. Lets make sure we’re all
on the same page here. All of you understand the SECRET PLAN, right?
Dr. A: I do.
Wade: Yep.
Roe: Sure thing, Ms. C.
Ms. C: And you are all sure that you are sure about the SECRET
PLAN, right? None of you will do any actions that would jeopardize the plan,
will you?
Wade: Yes to the first question. No to the second.
Dr. A: I understand completely, I am the man in the ring and I
have to deal with it.
Roe: Yeah boss, we all get it.
Ms. C: Good.
She checks her watch.
Ms. C: Thirty minutes until the match. Lets head to the gym real
quick and get in an extra 20 minutes of work on you, Doc.
Dr. A: No way. That will just tire me out. I should just sit here
on the couch for the next half hour and-
*SLAP!*
Dr. A: Ow. Ow… okay. Lets go…
The four walk out of the room,
and close the door behind them. Destination: Work Out.