Nick Stuart: What a great match that was between Dusk and Tony Gamble, as Dusk continues his farewell tour.
Richard Parker: Wish he’d just say goodbye already.
Nick Stuart: And now we go…wait. Hold on.
Richard Parker: What’s going on, Nick?
Nick Stuart: I just heard there’s something going on in the backstage area. We’re getting cameras there right now, but it sounds like an unauthorized person has broken in backstage.
Richard Parker: That’s happened a few times before, I’m sure security will handle it.
Nick Stuart: Looks like we’ve got the cameras ready, so what’s – oh my God.
The first thing we see is a door – or at least half of one. It’s splintered down the middle, the white shreds hanging off the hinges as it swings lazily. In front of it is a huddle of Enemigos as they all seem to be preoccupied with something. Within a few seconds it becomes clear what that something is as one by one they fall to stiff punches. As they start to shed, we see the 6’6” frame of Paxton Ray, snarling and swinging.
The response from the crowd isn’t quite a boo, though there are a few mixed in there. It is more of a roar containing a multitude of emotions: fear, surprise, anger, excitement. As the crowd noise gets louder, more security try and stop the intruder, and they are all dealt with in turn. Paxton bends down for a moment and is lost in the sea of bodies before emerging with a piece of the broken door.
Nick Stuart: Oh no! This is horrific! Somebody stop him!
Richard Parker: Where the hell is Lindsay Troy?
Paxton continues to trudge forward, now swinging the sharp door fragment. He connects with Enemigo IX, who crumples in a heap as the sharp splinters further. Another Enemigo gets two quick punches in on him, forcing Paxton to drop the door piece before being flooring the Enemigo with an uppercut. As the chaos continues, Biff of the Jimmy Bonafide dancers walks through, staring at his phone, not noticing what is happening.
Nick Stuart: Biff, look up!
Richard Parker: These kids and their phones!
Nick Stuart: He’s fifty–that’s not important right now. BIFF, LOOK UP!
Paxton sees Biff and snatches the phone from his hand. He raises it to his lips as he is grabbed by more Enemigos.
Paxton Ray: He’ll call ya back.
He then tosses the phone, pushes the security away and grabs Biff, tossing him into a nearby wall, where he falls in a heap.
Paxton Ray: Where y’at, Troy?
He looks ahead and smiles, because he thinks he’s seen someone even more fun to…talk to. The camera pans in the direction of Ray’s gaze to find Mark, the man responsible for reigning in King Blueberry (or at least trying very hard to). Mark looks up at Ray, terrified.
Nick Stuart: Not Mark! That young man…he found a note earlier tonight. Do you think…B.B. is Paxton?
Richard Parker: Good chance of that, pal.
Paxton Ray laughs and takes a few steps towards the young man.
Paxton Ray: ‘Sup, Mark.
Backstage Assistant Mark: (whispered) No.
Before he can advance any further, three Enemigos converge at once and begin to turn the tide against the Bayou Butcher. They hit him with punches as one holds Paxton’s arm back. Mark looks on, horrified, but there is another expression on his face as well.
Hope that security is finally detaining the intruder. Hope that this nightmare will be over soon. Hope that he doesn’t have to see Paxton Ray stare at him again.
That hope is fleeting.
Ray breaks free of his grip and grabs two Enemigos, banging their heads together. He swats the third one away and then looks up at Mark, who begins to walk away. The camera catches his pants turning dark and wet.
Backstage Assistant Mark: No! No, no, no, no…
Nick Stuart: This is horrific. Please stop, Paxton! Don’t touch him!
Backstage Assistant Mark: (sobbing) Noooooo! Nononono n- (sob) no!
Paxton snickers as he closes the distance between the two, then puts his hands under Mark’s arms.
Paxton Ray: I’ve wanted t’do this since the day I met ya.
And then he heaves.
Nick Stuart: NO!
Behind Mark there is a small office. The office had a large window where you could see everything going on, and it was empty.
Had a window. Was empty.
Mark Lemon sails through the air, crashing through the window and sending shards of glass everywhere. A rather large shard gets stuck in Paxton’s cheek. He grunts as he fishes it out.
Paxton Ray: Now time to find Troy.
“Well, shit. I hate to tell ya, but she’s busy…”
The gravelly voice off-screen can only belong to one man, and the camera pans slowly to make him known.
The original Bruiser. The ‘Bama Bruiser. The Son of a Bitch himself.
Wade God-Damn Elliott.
Wade’s knuckles crack inside a fist, his thunder-cloud glare burning holes in Ray’s own glowering stare.
Wade Elliott: …but my schedule’s REAL clear.
Paxton Ray: Ya know, coupla months ago I called Melvin “Wade.” Like a lotta things I did recently, that was a lie.
He steps forward a few feet.
Paxton Ray: I know exactly who ya are.
Wade stands firm, despite Paxton’s advance, and snorts through his nose.
Wade Elliott: Boy, if that were true, you would’ve tucked tail an’ skipped town weeks ago.
The Bad Dog takes his turn to step a heavy boot forward.
Wade Elliott: Ain’t nobody comes lookin’ t’start shit with ME.
Paxton laughs. The rest of the security team, standing or otherwise, watches the two square off.
Paxton Ray: I bet ya think that. But this ain’t the past, Wade. And jus’ like that head ref who thinks he can still throw his weight around, ya ain’t learned somethin’.
And now Paxton steps forward again.
Paxton Ray: Ya can’t hang with the actual fighters. And ya definitely can’t hang with me.
Wade Elliott: Son, there’s only two’r three sons’ve bitches worth their salt in this whole God damn buildin’, an’ you ain’t one’ve ’em.
Paxton Ray: Let’s find out then.
Before we can, though, we hear a sound.
That’s the sound of a device that hasn’t been seen in months. A device that King Blueberry gave up freely, and is now in the hands of PRIME CEO Lindsay Troy.
Count Shockula the taser has felled the Bayou Butcher, at least for now.
Wade Elliott: (growling down at Paxton) Maybe next time. You fuckin’ cunt.
Lindsay pockets the weapon and pats Wade on the arm before glaring down at Paxton, who is slightly stirring but not a threat to move.
Lindsay Troy: Get this rat fuck out of my sight.
She lifts her eyes and glances down the hall.
Lindsay Troy: And someone get the EMTs here, for God’s sake!
Nick Stuart: What a brutal scene that was. But it’s over, finally.
Richard Parker: For now, Nick. You heard Shweta last show. Guys like Paxton Ray do not quit. What is he going to try next?
Nick Stuart: I hope you’re wrong, Richard. For all our sakes.