ORIENTING THE MURDER EXPRESS
The scene opens on a shot of the STEEL DOOR O’DOOM, which can only mean that we’re about to pay the Queen of the Ring a visit. How exciting! The Brooklynites let the hoots and cheers fly inside the Barclays Center, which is more than the Nets are getting lately AMIRITE???!!!!
A large shadow is cast over the door as a massive frame approaches from the left. The screen is filled with mostly torso before the camera pans up to the stoic face of Hessian gazing down LT’s nameplate. The giant politely hammers on the steel twice with the back of his fist and evokes a prompt invite from within.
The Murder Show sashays inside, ducking his head as he fills the entrance before closing the door gently behind him and approaches Troy’s desk. He clamps both hands around the backrest of the unoccupied chair before him, standing behind it and pressing his weight down on its frame.
Hessian: Hello Boss, got time for a catch-up?
The Lady of the Hour takes a quick mock-look around the room and shrugs.
Lindsay Troy: Well…I’m already caught up on everything that’s going on and you have a title match later on.
She lets that hang in the air.
Lindsay Troy: Humor me.
The Murder Show rounds the chair and lowers himself into the seat, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped.
Hessian: Thanks. Just wanted to follow up on Parker’s nonsense at Forty-One. I still haven’t heard anything to suggest someone put him up to calling me the “Murder Express” so-
Lindsay Troy: -so first of all, I know you’ve been gone a minute but let me remind you that Richard Parker is a giant troll and he was probably trying to get under your skin. Mission accomplished. Second of all, threaten him again and I start with the fines. And lastly, we went ahead and trademarked “Murder Express.” It’s now PRIME’s intellectual property, and you don’t have to worry about it affecting your revenue.
The Murder Show’s features are pinched in humility.
Hessian: Understood, and I appreciate the gesture. I’m not using that name though, there’s too much “Murder” going on in this place and none of it is in my name. You got that kid Paxton Ray calling himself the “Murder Gator,” then there’s that damn “Murder Rumble” event too. I’ve been the “Murder Show” since two-thousand-and-one, Lindsay, I’m the longest tenured “Murder-anything” in the industry…
The Renaissance Woman and Lady of the Hour stares past Hessian, unblinking and unmoving, her head tilted slightly. He turns curiously expecting to see someone behind him but when he turns back she hasn’t shifted.
Hessian: What’s the matter?
Don’t tell him, she thinks to herself.
Hessian: Lindsay? You okay?
He’ll just get upset, her inner monologue continues.
Lindsay Troy: You can’t trademark the word “Murder,” Angelus. If someone was walking around calling themselves the “Murder Show” then you’d have a case, obviously, but I don’t know what else to tell you…
The Murder Show studies the Pinnacle of PRIME’s face intently. His expression drops suddenly and his eyes bug. The Eternal Ace’s eyebrow twitches.
The Final Boss holds her hands up and Hessian’s jaw drops in disbelief. He shoots up from his chair and turns to the door, spinning back on his heels to face her, then back to the door, then back to her.
Hessian: You wouldn’t!
Lindsay Troy: Hey I earned the name “Murder Buzzsaw,” alright!
The giant groans loudly and throws his hands up, letting them slap against his thighs as he turns back to the door and bangs his head against it in defeat, once again causing it to shudder.
Lindsay Troy: You cannot expect everyone else to drop it just because you set the precedent…
The Murder Show pauses mid-headbang and slowly looks back.
Lindsay Troy: Either double-down and take ownership of “Murder Express” or go earn yourself some new nicknames. Or better yet keep an eye on the message boards, see what the people are saying.
Hessian: With all due respect, the people are saying “Ian Hess.” No, thank you.
Lindsay Troy: Only Pizmo says that, and he can go fuck himself.
Troy motions to the door.
Lindsay Troy: Go figure it out. The matter’s been resolved.
The giant glances at the door dejected, then his expression changes.
Hessian: What did you say just now? About dropping it?
Lindsay Troy: That…you had to?
Hessian: No, after that. What did you say I did?
She looks at him, confused.
Lindsay Troy: Set the precedent?
The Murder Show glances off to the side with a hum, lips turned at the corners. Another hum as he makes for the door which warrants a snort from the Queen of the Ring.
Lindsay Troy: Go get ready for your match.
Hessian: Could you trademark that for me?
Hessian: Yeah yeah, I know I’m leaving-
The Murder Show opens the door.
Hessian: l’ll go prepare for the cabbage patch kid. Can you do that for me though? Trademark “Precedent” and all subsequent riffs?
Lindsay Troy: It needs some work and we probably have it already but yeah, sure, I’ll make a note if it gets you outta here.
The Murder Show slaps the door gleefully as he slips out, shouting back as he leaves.
Hessian: Thank you Boss! I’m gonna dedicate the glass, fire, electricity, piranhas and spider-net spots to you tonight!
Lindsay Troy: YOU DID NOT CLEAR ANY OF-
The door shuts hard behind Hessian. Troy runs a hand down her face and sighs.
Lindsay Troy: I swear to Hoyt if I see one piranha in that ring…