KNIGHTINGALE SINGS, COMMUNISM FLINGS

The scene shifts backstage to one of the many corridors and hallways inside the MGM Grand. Mortimer (formerly Kjedelig) Knightingale is walking and is stopped by a crew member sporting a PRIME polo. He looks like he is in his late twenties and has a moustache making him look like a seventies heartthrob or an actor featured in such films as “Disco Cheerleaders and Ass Eaters.” There is something skeevy about this gentleman, something shifty about him.

PRIME Crew Member: Mister Knightingale, I have a message from Mister Gamble. He says he wants to give you notes on how you can improve your in-ring technique since you represent him in the squared circle.

Mortimer Knightingale: That pipsqueak can’t come down from his ivory fuckin’ tower to get me? What, his majesty’s manicured hands can’t text me? Who the fuck are you to come get ME?

PRIME Crew Member: I’m just doing what I was—-

Mortimer Knightingale: I busted my ass out there tonight and that scrawny prick is summonin’ me like I’m some fuckin’ peasant? You tell him I’ll see him after the fuckin’ show, capice?

PRIME Crew Member: Yes, sir.

The PRIME Crew Member walks off and Mortimer Knightingale continues down the hallway, his face getting redder and redder with each step, he is outright fuming. From the other end of the hallway, the hulking silhouette of a man moves towards Mortimer. He turns and moves towards the form, so wrapped up in his thoughts he pays it no mind. The form is none other than the seven foot plus tall Ivan Stanislav, who takes up a considerable amount of space in the cramped hallway. Stanislav either doesn’t care about Mortimer, or doesn’t even pay him any attention, and makes no attempt to shift to give him room. Nor does Knightingale. The duo collide in the tight corridor, and Stanislav continues to walk. That’s not good enough for Mortimer, who spins around and calls down the hallway.

Mortimer Knightingale: OH! The fuck is your problem?

Stanislav stops in his tracks and doesn’t turn around. It’s as if he’s processing that someone actually addressed him in such a way. After about five seconds, The Russian Bear turns around slowly with his brows furrowed in a mix of confusion and frustration. 

Ivan Stanislav: Surely you are not speaking to me?

Ivan takes one step towards Mortimer, closing the distance slightly. Mortimer now has the majority of his attention, and is rapidly gaining more of it. 

Mortimer Knightingale:  The name’s not “Shirley,” fuckbag. The name’s Mortimer. Mortimer Knightingale.   

Stanislav tilts his head to the side, instead of outward rage, he stares down at Mortimer like a Bear would a flopping trout. 

Ivan Stanislav: Knightingale? I have not heard of you, little bird, and if you keep singing that garish tune, you might get stuffed. 

Mortimer Knightingale: Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho….Motherfucker! You’re lucky I don’t shove a mazel tov cocktail right up your red ass! Now back the fuck up! 

Elsewhere…

Alexei Ruslan walks with a bag of popcorn in his hands. He rounds the corner, trying to catch up to his larger comrade. He stares down the hallway and squeals and hits the floor, his hat flying off his head and floating in the air for a moment, before falling back down upon his head as he squats. 

Above him, a Knightingale-sized figure flies overhead and crashes into the plaster wall behind Ruslan and sends a torrent of dust, particle board, and debris exploding out all around him. The heavy footfalls of Ivan Stanislav approach as Alexei stands up slowly and looks back at the hole in the wall. Stanislav leans forward and peers into the cavernous hole. He pays Ruslan no mind. 

Ivan Stanislav: That is Molotov, you moron. Named after comrade Vyacheslav Molotov, Hero of Socialist Labor and one of the greatest foreign ministers Russia ever had!

Ruslan slowly stands up, clutching the popcorn to his chest.

Alexei Ruslan: Who was that, Ivan? 

Stanislav shrugs.

Ivan Stanislav: Someone with a “fowl” mouth.

The joke flies over Ruslan’s head, but Ivan grins wide. 

Ivan Stanislav: Ah, you found the popcorn. Excellent!

With that, Ivan tosses some popcorn into his maw and the two of them walk away, leaving the human-sized hole in the wall.