Camera opens on Stu and Rocky sitting in the locker rooms at Petco Park. Rocky keeps eyeing the monitors, his knees bounce rapidly..
Rocky de Leon: I’m feeling a bit of nervous energy. Gonna go take a walk.
Stuart Weiler: Good idea – while you’re at it, why don’t you go check how sales are doing at the PRIMEporium? Maybe stand there a few minutes, too – might drive some people to buy a few more pterodactyl heads if you’re there.
Rocky de Leon: I’m not a salesman, Stu.
Rocky dons his mask.
Stuart Weiler: That’s right. You’re a mascot.
Rocky de Leon: Hey!
Stuart Weiler: In character, please.
Rocky growls and leans in toward Stu, his fists clenched.
Stu is unphased, does not flinch, and raises one eyebrow above the rim of his glasses.
Rocky slumps, clearly defeated, and sighs.
Rocky de Leon: Skree.
Stuart Weiler: Once more, with feeling.
Rocky de Leon: SKREE!
Stuart Weiler: There’s a good mascot, now go find out if I need to order more shirts.
Stu opens his laptop and begins to type furiously. Rocky turns and exits the locker room.
Rocky de Leon: [grumbling] I’ll show you who’s a good mascot…
Camera follows Rocky through the tunnels and down the halls of Petco Park. He signs a handful of autographs and SKREEs for a few selfies/snapchats with fans. Several of them follow him to the PRIMEporium where the Merch Tsar/current champion of ongoing death has mysteriously popped up in a cloud of confetti.
Anna Daniels: Greetings, mortals! Money, like your lives, is fleeting. Would you care to spend some of yours on our wares? Everything is Buy Ten, Get One free tonight!
Rocky de Leon: SKREE!
Rocky leans in over the counter and whispers.
Rocky de Leon: Uh, hey, Anna – I just came by to check on how sales of FDP merch are going.
The camera pans left as Rocky speaks with Anna to include a McSkree and Me shirt which has been bedazzled and besequinned in a manner most pink. Rocky notices the shirt and stops whispering.
Rocky de Leon: Daniels. What the hell is THAT?!
Anna pulls the shirt down and hands it to Rocky.
Anna Daniels: We were fairly certain you would recognize a shirt, even if you elect not to wear one in the ring.
Rocky de Leon: No, Anna, come on – I mean why is it… WHAT THE HELL!?
Rocky moves further left. The camera follows. Rocky finds a display of foam pterodactyl heads which have been completely coated in pink glitter.
Anna Daniels: Don’t look at us, buddy. We didn’t do it. It’s yet another classic case of people fucking with the merchandise. We really need to invest into some security guards or something.
The vessel shrugs much to Rocky’s frustration.
Anna Daniels: Buuuut if it helps, they were nice enough to leave a note. And hey, we can always sell these as a limited edition thing. Tonight only. Just say the word!
She winks to him as she slides an envelope across the glass case-counter. The camera zooms onto the envelope in Rocky’s hands. The envelope is made from a base of black glossy paper. The edges are rimed with pink glitter, a wax seal closes the envelope with an imprint of lips. The wax seal has been trimmed such that the exterior wall is in the shape of a heart. The envelope reads:
Rocky opens the envelope and pulls out a card. It is printed on bone cardstock. The font is something called Silian Rail. It reads:
Camera fades to black.