Read the Room
Fading into a hallway backstage, we see a particularly agitated collective of Enemigos I, III, IV, V, and VI. In front of them stands “The Southern Sparkplug” Wade Elliott, PRIME co-Head of Security. He keeps his hands up in defense as the Security Luchadores buzz in frustration.
Wade Elliott: I know, I know, I hear ya’ll, but there ain’t nothin’ in the rules that says Rezin can’t grab everythin’ he wants from the buffet line and toss it in a sack. That said, next time if all the god-damn ribs are gone ‘fore I can git to em’, you get me on the radio real quick.
As the ‘Bama Bruiser continues to manage his security team, the chiseled shape of one Hayes Hanlon enters in the background, rounding a corner with a duffel bag in hand. He stops in his tracks, looks over his shoulder, smoothes his dark mustache, and approaches slowly.
Wade Elliott: (sighing) Yes, the same goes fer Bobby Dean. He’s got a clause in his contract ‘bout buffets…
Hayes Hanlon: Mr. Elliott?
The Bad Dog stops mid-sentence, eyebrows furrowing as he turns his rugged frame to face Hanlon.
Wade Elliott: Yeah, can we do somethin’ for ya, son?
Hayes sets his duffel bag to the floor and extends a hand.
Hayes Hanlon: No sir, just wanted to introduce myself. I’m “Event Horizon” Hayes Hanlon.
Wade Elliott: (shaking his hand) Wade Elliott. These here’re the Enemigos.
Hayes Hanlon: (nodding to the luchas) Big fan.
The Enemigos show their appreciation as Hayes turns back to Wade.
Hayes Hanlon: And I remember watching you kick Hessian off the PRIME*View at ReVolution 250. That shit blew my mind.
Wade Elliott: Yeah, that one ain’t my fuzziest memory.
Wade snaps his fingers in realization.
Wade Elliott: Hey, yer the new kid who beat Dan Ryan’s daughter ‘couple weeks ago, right?
Hayes Hanlon: (grinning) Yes sir, that’s me.
Wade Elliott: Congrats on the win, that girl scares th’shit outta me. The hell’s “Event Horizon” mean, anyway?
Hayes Hanlon: Oh, dude, it’s really cool. Check it out, so black holes in space have this ridiculous gravitational pull…
Wade Elliott: (holding a hand up) Let me stop ya right there, son, I gotta get this show on the road. Good luck with yer match t’night, that Bathory kid is fuckin’ creepy.
Hayes Hanlon: (slightly dejected) Oh, yeah. No problem…and thanks.
The ‘Bama Bruiser turns back to his security team as Hayes retrieves his bag.
Hayes Hanlon: Oh, and real quick, I always wanted to ask; whatever happened to Enemigo II?
The luchadores go dead still and silent. Wade’s blue eyes grow wide. Enemigo III visibly trembles. Enemigo VI buries his head in his hands. Enemigo I puts an arm around IV’s shoulders for support, clutching his collar, mumbling through his mask through unintelligible sobs. Soon, the entirety of the Enemigos are bawling, wailing, and consoling each other.
Hayes Hanlon: Oh, shiiiit…I didn’t mean to…
Wade Elliott: (turning and snapping) TH’HELL’SAMATTER WITH YOU?
Hayes Hanlon: I’m sorry! I didn’t realize!
Wade Elliott: JESUS, boy! Look at em’ all! Can’t ya read the god-damn room!?
Hayes Hanlon: Read what? They’re all wearing…
Wade turns to the masked security team, patting Enemigo I on the back.
Wade Elliott: S’alright, s’alright, he didn’t know.
The Bad Dog turns his angered gaze back to The Event Horizon.
Wade Elliott: Fer chrissakes, son, you go flappin’ yer gums like that just anywhere? It’ll be an hour ‘fore I can git em’ back to work!
Hayes Hanlon: I’m SO sorry! What can I do?
Wade turns back to Hayes, hands on his hips and shaking his head.
Wade Elliott: Shit…well, ya better buy em’ a round after the show, that’s a start.
Hayes Hanlon: Okay. Okay, I can do that. What do they like to drink?
Wade Elliott: Pinot Grigio.
Hayes Hanlon: Consider it done, a round of p…wait, really?
Wade Elliott: NO THEY DON’T WANT PINOT GRIGIO! THEY WANT TOP SHELF TEQUILA!
Hayes Hanlon: Yes! Holy shit, sorry! I’m on it!
The rookie quickly re-captures his duffel bag and turns, speed walking back down the hall. Wade shakes his head and returns to console his team.
Meanwhile…