LIFE IS LIKE A BOX OF BANDITS
ReVival comes back to life after the commercial break and picks up with a zoom-in on the newly ordained Bandits luxury box, aka eGG Den 2.0, aka Champion’s Advantage, aka Bandit Jail, aka Owner’s Box.
Nick Stuart: From rags to riches this bunch. Then again, Jiles does have a jet.
Richard Parker: Fuck him and the horse he rode in on. Whatever its name was.
Bobby and Dooze are sitting down next to each other. Dooze, the old curmudgeon, looks perturbed by the amount of popcorn Bobby has spilled on him. Bobby meanwhile, is glowing a beautiful hue, or he’s just been wiping his buttery hands on his face. A few seats down from them, because his ego needs the space, is Cancer Jiles. Jiles, whose hair and T-Shades game remain unrivaled, has one-half of the heads of PRIME security, Dametreyus, standing closely behind him. Timo, dressed for success, paces in the background in preparation for the night’s main event or because Jiles’ cackle has broken him.
And seated wayyyyy off in the last seat, barely visible, in fact only visible because of the UNIVERSAL Championship’s luster, is Lady Troy herself.
She ain’t smiling, either.
Richard Parker: Poor Dame. Talk about bitch duty.
Nick Stuart: What!?!
Richard Parker: He’ll die before Jiles goes anywhere with that belt.
Nick Stuart: Oh.
Richard Parker: What did you think I meant?
The show feed quickly switches to outside the luxury box where both Four and Five of the Enemigos are posted up. Angelica Books is also there, and trying to get a word with the newly crowned UNIVERSAL Champion; presumably to ask him how he is doing, if his body is on the mend, and if he still plans to spurn PRIME and never wrestle there again. However, despite her best pleading, even she is turned away by security.
Nick Stuart: The Enemigos aren’t playing around and I can’t blame them. If Jiles were to escape under their watch, Lindsay Troy would make a fajita out of them. And not a magical one.
Richard Parker: I’m sure if Jiles grabbed the belt and “jumped” from his penalty box in some attempt to escape that Mom really wouldn’t care. As long as he didn’t land on a fan and break both his legs.
The shot goes back to the zoomed-in view of the luxury box. Jiles, now with a silver platter full of grapes in his grasp, is stuffing himself like a ravenous COOLympian Emperor. He wildily chews with his mouth obnoxiously agape, causing both the juices and fruit bits to seemingly bleed down his chin.
Richard Parker: Can you believe this man is the UNIVERSAL Champion? Make it make sense. Please. I’m begging you. Nova. Hoyt. Brandon. Fuck, even Wade. Someone. Anyone. Do the right thing. He deserves it.
Nick Stuart: We’re all just as thrilled about it as you are. Still, to play devil’s advocate, it doesn’t change the fact that since PRIME reopened no one has bled more, no one has suffered more, no has taken more punishment than Cancer Jiles has. Yet, there he sits, spitting grapes, the star of the show… our UNIVERSAL Champion.
Richard Parker: This is going to be a long road to Colossus. Maybe longest ever. JUMP YOU SHITLORD! JUMP!
The shot cuts away before Jiles can make an inappropriate gesture which would not have gone over well with the Beltkeeper.