Ouch.

[Stylin' Kyle Roberts [REBEL]]

(Tuesday. In the Memorial Arena locker room, after the end of Tuesday Night Fights. Kyle Roberts and Bruce Richards are being attended to by the NAPW medical staff. Kyle's head is bandaged, and Bruce is in the midst of getting his ribs taped up.)

KYLE ROBERTS: This is (BLEEP)ing bullshit.

NAPW DOCTOR: Calm down, Kyle. You don't want to rip the stitches in your head.

(Kyle takes the nearest object, a metal plate full of medical tools, and throws them at the wall. Everyone in the room is startled, other than Bruce, who just closes his eyes and sighs.)

KYLE ROBERTS: YOU CALM DOWN, COLIN! (BLEEP)ING! BULLSHIT! What the (BLEEP) happened out there? We got our asses handed to us by the Midnight Cowboys! It's looking like August and October all over again, Bruce! Why the (BLEEP) can't we hold our own against these guys? We look like (BLEEP)ing amateurs every time we get beat down by teams who should be getting us sandwiches!

BRUCE RICHARDS: In case you didn't notice, Kyle, that ring was a war zone. You couldn't tell who was fighting whom.

KYLE ROBERTS: The Dudes did fine! The Mystic Ninja and Expostioner aren't getting bandaged up! Hell, even the freakin' BEE was able to clear the ring of a few jackasses. But no! When it comes to the New and Improved D-X, the top tag team in the world? We get piled up on by every single (BLEEP)ing loser that ever tried to make a name for himself in NAPW and failed miserably!

BRUCE RICHARDS: When you're at the top of the mountain, everybody comes to knock you off.

KYLE ROBERTS: No, Bruce! Kyle don't play that! We beat these bitches once! We defended our belts against them, end of story! (BLEEP)! (BLEEP)! We just can't get a break!

BRUCE RICHARDS: Kyle, you know that we thrive in adversity. Every time we find the odds against us, we rise to the occasion. We beat every team in that gauntlet, other than Jeff James and Dio Muerte, and we've still got the belts. We faced off against the top teams of the world, and who was left standing? Kyle and Bruce, the New and Improved D-X!

KYLE ROBERTS: And what do we have to show for it?

BRUCE RICHARDS: The tag titles. Five times over. The Hegstrand Cup. Bigger bank accounts.

KYLE ROBERTS: Bandages around our waists! A DENTED trophy! A commissioner that has it out for us and doesn't know when to quit!

BRUCE RICHARDS: Look, Kyle, I've got a bit of a headache, here. Could you please tone down the anger?

(The medical staff finish up their tending, and leave the room.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: Thanks, guys.

KYLE ROBERTS: You know I'm right, Bruce!

BRUCE RICHARDS: You have a point, Kyle. Which is why you should focus this anger into winning this match and not into yelling at everything around you.

KYLE ROBERTS: Fine. I'll channel it the only way I know how: By mocking the (BLEEP) out of the Midnight Cowboys.

BRUCE RICHARDS: That's the spirit. Get them out of their comfort zone. Get them nice and angry to the point of making mistakes. And tone down your fury so you don't end up making mistakes yourself.

KYLE ROBERTS: I'm not promising anything.

BRUCE RICHARDS: Well, you'd better. I like where we are these days, and if we lose this match, not only do the Midnight Cowboys get these belts, but we cease to be the New and Improved D-X.

KYLE ROBERTS: Which is why we can't lose, Bruce.

BRUCE RICHARDS: Exactly. Now, I have an idea to get them off their game. I'm thinking we'll start the offensive on Saturday.

KYLE ROBERTS: No, we should be attacking them right now.

BRUCE RICHARDS: I'd like some time to heal up, if I could.

KYLE ROBERTS: If it means we're going to let them have it both barrels? I guess I can give those ribs a few days to heal.

BRUCE RICHARDS: Good, because here's what I've got in mind...

(Bruce leads Kyle out the locker room door as we fade to black.)