We find ourselves in the parking lot of the Toyota Center. Specifically we see a silver pickup truck park and two men get out. The fans immediately boo Foster Nackedy and Paxton Ray. Paxton slams the car door and starts to speed across the lot, and Foster quickly follows.
Foster Nackedy: Slow down, hoss. What’s the plan here?
Paxton Ray: Ain’t no plan. Findin’ Nova. Beatin’ him til he stops movin’.
Foster temporarily stops.
Foster Nackedy: Technically that is a plan. Not a great one, but a plan.
He then realizes that Paxton has not stopped and starts running again.
Foster Nackedy: We can make this plan better. Do you even know where Nova is?
Paxton Ray: Don’t matter. Gonna knock down doors til I find him.
“Where we’re going, we don’t need doors.”
The arena crowd pops as Nova steps out from behind a row of vehicles wheeling a gear bag, the Former Chairman of PRIME Sonny Silver flanking him. The protective facemask styled after the pattern of Nova’s wrestling tights covers his face.
Ray pauses to consider Nova’s comment and then turns to Nackedy, who shrugs.
Sonny Silver: That doesn’t really work, Nov.
The Risen Star takes a drag of his cigarette, flicks it away, and balls up his fists as he steps forward.
Nova: I’m right here, motherfucker.
Silver turns to Nova, mouthing “Nice.”
Paxton growls and takes a step forward. Nackedy steps out and around Ray, holding out his arms, his eyes darting between the men.
Foster Nackedy: My friends…or rather, my client and the old guy. You’ve both made it quite clear that your priority is securing unfettered access to tear each other limb-from-limb, and that’s fine. But we are in the middle of an unforgiving concrete parking structure, and I feel obligated at least on behalf of my client to suggest we reloc-
Ray shoves past him.
Paxton Ray: Nah.
Nova grins and steps into a trot that threatens a full sprint before the brights of a nearby vehicle flash on, bathing the men in white light that causes everyone to shield their eyes. The vehicle, a black SUV, lurches forward with a screech! of its tires and rolls into the space between the group.
The front doors swing open and PRIME’s CEO Lindsay Troy gingerly steps out of the driver’s seat facing Nova and Silver. PRIME Head of Security, Dametreyus, steps out of the front passenger side facing Ray and Nackedy.
Troy brushes curls away from her face.
Lindsay Troy: (grinning) Dam, what did I say about a wizard never being late?
Dam grunts, his gaze never leaving Paxton’s position. The smile fades from Troy’s face and she looks over to Nackedy.
Lindsay Troy: For the first – and hopefully only – time ever, I actually agree with that asshole.
Foster Nackedy’s eyebrows arch in genuine surprise. Troy looks back to Nova, who is most of the way through another cigarette but still poised to meet Ray over the top of the car.
Lindsay Troy: This. Is Not. The Time.
She turns back to Paxton and Nackedy.
Lindsay Troy: Or the place.
Troy sighs, rubbing two fingers against her temple.
Lindsay Troy: If you two aren’t fighting in the crowd or launching each other off stage platforms, you’re trying to crack your big stupid heads open in the parking garage before you even set foot in the arena. You wanna get unconventional with the scenery? Fine. You wanna take this wherever you’re going to take it so we can bring whatever this is to a head? Great. The Intense Title was designed for this, and last I checked, although absolutely no one is happy about it…
She looks to Ray.
Lindsay Troy: …you hold that belt. But if we’re doing this, we’re doing it the right way.
Troy looks back to Nova and Sonny.
Lindsay Troy: Culture Shock.
The crowd roars in the background as Troy’s gaze shifts back to Ray and Nackedy.
Lindsay Troy: Falls Count Anywhere.
Lindsay Troy: Now…(turning to Nova)…you, get your ass inside the arena and prepare for the actual job you have that doesn’t involve instigating fights next to a Lyft Pick-Up Zone.
Silver puts a hand on Nova’s shoulder and nods towards a set of double doors leading inside the Toyota Center. The Risen Star meets Paxton’s glare one more time before giving Silver a nod and turning towards the arena entrance.
Lindsay Troy: And you…
She turns back to Ray and Nackedy one last time.
Lindsay Troy: …find something productive to do with yourselves that doesn’t involve randomly beating up my talent. Got it?
Ray’s lips curl into a snarl and he sizes up Dametreyus one more time before Nackedy again steps in front of his charge with a diplomatic grin.
Foster Nackedy: Loud and clear, boss. No random beatdowns from us! Just the normal ones within the confines of…and she’s gone.
Indeed, everyone has left The Bad Name Bomber and the Lafayette Bruiser by themselves.
Foster Nackedy: So, falls count anywhere. You happy?
The cameraman, against all better judgment, gets close to Paxton as he smiles.
Paxton Ray: Ecstatic.
We go elsewhere.