TRAVELING DOUCHECIRCUS

We immediately see Paxton Ray hunched over with someone. As the camera comes in closer, we see that the person is Doug, the PRIME backstage worker who put a shock collar on Richard Parker last week.

Richard Parker: What the hell is that monster doing back there?

Nick Stuart: Paxton Ray appears to be looking at something.

Richard Parker: Not him, the other monster!

Paxton looks over his shoulder and snarls at the camera.

Doug: Crud, it’s a camera.

Paxton Ray: Ya mind?

The cameraman doesn’t say anything, but he also doesn’t move the camera. After a moment Paxton turns to Doug.

Paxton Ray: Just take it somewhere else. Keep it away from pryin’ eyes.

Doug: Can do!

Doug gives a double thumbs up, then walks off with a package under his arm. Paxton looks at the camera again. Before he can send any threats, though, he is interrupted by several people walking up. 

First is Foster Nackedy, sporting his Disco-ball concussion helmet. Behind him are three younger men, men who have never been on PRIME cameras before. The taller one with his hair fashioned into devil horns, appropriately named Satan Jones, has never been seen by any wrestling cameras before, but wrestling superfans who enjoy Lucha Especial and programs like The Madhouse will recognize El Cocodrilo and Quinn Fleetwood. 

Whether or not the crowd recognizes them is unclear, but they do boo anyway, likely because Foster looks like such a prick in that helmet.

Foster Nackedy: What was that about?

Paxton looks back at the camera.

Paxton Ray: I’ll tell ya later.

Quinn Fleetwood: You can tell us now. It’s so sweet you’ve got a boyfriend, Pax.

Paxton looks from the short teenager to Foster.

Paxton Ray: Tell me why ya thought bringin’ the Travelin’ Douchecircus was a good idea.

Quinn Fleetwood: I got a big top for you right here.

We don’t need to tell you where Quinn grabbed when he said that.

Foster holds a hand up to Quinn, which symbolically means “stop,” or “Why is everything you say so sexual?”

Foster Nackedy: Simple. Remember that the winner of the tournament gets a wrestling contract. I want to show my students what the wrestling experience is like. Backstage, eating catering, trading insults with people, the full package. 

Paxton Ray: Satan already lost, though. Why’s he here?

Satan Jones: Gonna steal Anna Daniels’ shoes.

Everyone looks at Satan.

Satan Jones: I’m a feet guy.

Foster Nackedy: Anyway. Let’s talk about what’s happening later. We…

We don’t get to hear about what’s happening later, because at that very moment the group is approached by a woman. We’ve already seen her tonight, but we really wish we hadn’t.

Savannah Scandal: Oh my. I didn’t think this was the way to catering, but here I am with all these fresh cuts of meat.

Yes, it’s Savannah goddamn Scandal again. She strides toward the group, putting a little extra wiggle in her hips as she approaches. Foster’s posture stiffens, as he knows enough about her to immediately be on the defensive. Quinn’s posture changes too, but in a different way.

Quinn Fleetwood: Holy shit you’re a hottie.

El Cocodrilo puts a hand on Quinn’s chest and moves him backward, silently admonishing him. Foster rolls his eyes.

Foster Nackedy: Ignore the boy, he’s young and stupid. What can we help you with, Ms. Scandal?

Savannah puts on her best seductive smile and flashes it at Quinn, before addressing Foster. She doesn’t look at him, though. She’s still looking at the youngest Fleetwood.

Savannah Scandal: I’m just here to dig around for the truth inside PRIME. Unlike a lot of so-called journalists, I’m not afraid to get a little dirty…in fact, there’s nothing I love more.

A wink. Quinn looks like he’s about to either faint, or…y’know what, better not talk about that on television.

Savannah Scandal: So…why did you bring this cadre of young studs with you tonight. Not complaining, just curious.

Foster and Paxton look at each other, and then the camera. Paxton scratches the back of his head as Foster opens his mouth to give some answer, but he never gets the chance. 

Quinn Fleetwood frees himself from his El Cocodrilo problem and steps forward, grabbing Savannah’s hand.

Quinn Fleetwood: They’re my entourage. Hello, my angel. My name is Quinn Fleetwood, and I am the newest wrestler in PRIME. They signed me to an unprecedented contract, yes ma’am. Lindsay Troy backed the Brinks truck up just to have me.

Paxton shakes his head as Foster grins. 

Quinn Fleetwood: And let me tell you something, if I had known that PRIME wrestlers had the pleasure of meeting such beautiful Hottie McStacks like yourself, I wouldn’t have started a bidding war between PRIME and SHOOT. I would’ve taken less money, even ten thousand dollars less, to be in a room with you.

Foster steps in, chuckling.

Foster Nackedy: All right, that’s enough. I don’t have to tell you that everything he said was varying degrees of bullshit, but unfortunately for you it’s the only answer you’re going to get. We’re here, we’re having a good time, and that’s where it ends. Thanks for stopping by!

Savannah Scandal: Oh, don’t poop the party. I haven’t even asked about the other kid’s foot thing yet.

Once again everyone turns to the young man with his hair fashioned into devil horns.

Satan Jones: Ask away. I’m an open book.

Foster Nackedy: If the book is titled “Foot Stuff,” maybe you should close that book a bit. 

Foster puts his arm around Satan and turns to Savannah.

Foster Nackedy: It was lovely seeing you, Ms. Scandal, and I do hope you’ll continue to call my gym every day for information, because I sure do love having to screen those calls. Me and my students are going to talk about boundaries somewhere else.

Foster walks, and El Cocodrilo, Satan Jones, and Quinn Fleetwood all follow – but not before Quinn Fleetwood turns and blows a kiss at Savannah. 

Then they are gone, leaving Savannah Scandal looking at The Bayou Butcher.

Paxton Ray: Uh…sup.

Savannah Scandal: Hello, Paxton. When was–

The rumor monger cuts herself off. As she previously said, she doesn’t mind getting dirty in pursuit of content.

Getting bloody is an entirely different matter.

Savannah Scandal: I think I smell a story brewing, somewhere…else. Bye, honeybear!

Scandal lightly brushes past the Bayou Butcher as she goes off in search of more lives to ruin.

After a moment, Doug walks back up. 

Doug: All done. 

Paxton Ray: Thanks pal. 

Doug looks past Paxton and frowns. 

Doug: Is that Savannah Scandal?

Paxton Ray: In the flesh. 

The backstage assistant nods. 

Doug: …Strumpet. 

We go elsewhere.