LOOKING FOR ANSWERS
Doors fly open and Rezin storms into the MGM Grand Garden Arena.
Rezin: I’m lookin’ for NATE COLTON!
Rezin storms into the locker room, nostrils flaring with animalistic fervor.
Rezin: NATE COLTON! Where are ya, you tow-headed sum’bish!?
Rezin moves on to catering, scanning the room like a man on a mission.
Rezin: You can’t hide from me… NATE COLTON!
Rezin wanders into the Argyle position, finding only confused members of the ring crew.
Rezin: Colton?
Rezin steps out onto the locking dock, where Enemigos I and IV are taking a smoke break.
Rezin: Colton!
Rezin bursts into the production truck, disrupting the video technicians hard at work.
Rezin: COLTON!
Rezin is out in the crowd, searching among a sea of fans engaged in the show.
Rezin: WHERE ARE YOU, COLTON?!
In the mens’ room, Rezin kicks open a stall door and looks down the commode.
Rezin: COLTON??
At the concession stand, Rezin’s head bursts out of the popcorn.
Rezin: COLTON!!
Nick and Richard are going over notes at the commentary table when Rezin suddenly pops up between them.
Rezin: COLTON!?!
Rezin is on the roof of the Grand Garden Arena, firing a flamethrower through the air.
FWOOOSSHH!!
Rezin: COOOOOLLL-TOOOONNN!!!!!!
Rezin stalks the hallways of the MGM Grand. He jerks his head in every direction, feverishly searching for his quarry, as he walks past anyone else who happens to be there. Patricia the production assistant, a few Enemigos, Matt Mills, a sound technician, Ashley Barlow, Nate Colton, a few more Enemigos, a caterer with a fresh vegetable tray…
Rezin: COLTON! WHERE ARE YOU, DAMN YOUR EYES?!
Nate Colton: Back here, man.
Rezin spins around without fully stopping his forward momentum, causing him to knock over the caterer, as well as his vegetable tray. His eyes burn with madness and rage as he stares down his upcoming opponent.
Nate waves.
Nate Colton: Need something?
Snarling, sniffing, and snorting like some wild animal, Rezin advances and gets face to face with the second-generation wrestling star.
Rezin: HEY, MAN! I got a QUESTION for ya! Cause see, something’s been botherin’ me for two weeks now! Really been harshin’ my mellow, if ya know what I mean! And errybuddy KNOWS THAT THIS OL’ DOPESMOKER LIKES TO KEEP IT MELLOW!!
Nate Colton impressively does not flinch despite the “mellow” individual screaming ravenously in his face. He simply blinks once.
Nate Colton: Okay, shoot.
Rezin: I wanna know, NAAATE COOLTOOONNN… WHY did you gave that strap BACK to FLAMBERGE?!
He jams a thumb into his chest.
Rezin: The man who ENDED the HIGH-est accolade of my career!?
He sticks the same thumb in the direction of the locker room.
Rezin: The man who SCREWED OVER Youngblood!
The thumb becomes an index finger, which pokes Nate’s chest accusingly.
Rezin: AND, let’s not forget… the man who has been YOUR GREATEST RIVAL thus far in PRIME! Of all people… WHY HIM?! What in the HELL were you smokin’ that night, kid, and WHERE THE HELL CAN I GET SOME?!
Nate Colton: Not smoking anything, Rezin. I gave the belt to FLAMBERGE ‘cause…well, it’s his.
Rezin blinks in astonishment.
Nate Colton: You don’t have to tell me FLAMBO is a douchebag. And the last thing I wanted to see was that belt in his hands. If I’d have given it back to Brandon, or you, or kept it myself…it would have made me a lot happier.
He sighs, and his hand tenses a little, as if he’s still trying to feel the weight of the 5-Star Title.
Nate Colton: But it wouldn’t be right.
The Goat Bastard double-blinks, dumbstruck by this concept of “morality”.
Nate Colton: I know it pissed off pretty much everybody. Well, sometimes that happens. Sometimes there’s no reward for doing the right thing, and really it just makes everything worse for you. But that’s when it’s the most important. That’s when you gotta do it, or none of it matters.
Rezin stands frozen for several long and awkward moments. Somewhere in that amount of time he likely forgets where he is and suddenly remembers again.
Rezin: …scuse me a sec.
He turns around to face away from Colton, and his maniacal rage briefly melts into distress as he bites down on his knuckle.
Rezin: (whispering) Holy shit… that is fuckin’ PUNK ROCK…
The Escape Artist turns to face Colton again, returning to his earlier unhinged haughtiness.
Rezin: OKAY, Evansville… I think I can buy that! THIS time, anyway! I’ma let YOU off for now… at least until Colossus! In the meantime, I guess I’m gonna take all this MELLOWNESS out on the NEXT poor sap that walks around the corner!
Rezin turns to leave. As luck should have it, coming around the corner is none other than…
BRANDON YOUNGBLOOD
Rezin: G’AHH!!
The dopesmoking daredevil is a blur the moment he finds himself in the shadow of the Tower of Babel, diving head-first into the waste receptacle, which subsequently falls over and rolls away, leaving paper trash and black hash in its wake.
Nate Colton steels himself for the confrontation about to come. He’s not looking forward to it, but he’s not shying away either. He steps out from the wall and looks Brandon Youngblood in the eyes.
Nate Colton: Brandon, I…
But the Tower of Babel keeps on walking. He doesn’t even look in Colton’s direction as he goes, though he does emit a growl when he passes the Next Diamond. Brandon doesn’t look back either; he just keeps walking toward his next goal.
Toward his next target.
Colton watches the Diamond of PRIME leave, then shakes his head…knowing it’ll be his turn soon enough.
Nate Colton: Shit.