NAPW vs REBEL: The Beast vs Caliban II

[Ryan Ro [NAPW]]

NAPW vs REBEL
DOG COLLAR MATCH
THE BEAST vs CALIBAN II

On May 1 in a REBEL Pro ring, NAPW's resident Beast took on REBEL Pro's monster. It was an epic match, only marred by the interference of The Beast's former partner Stylin' Kyle Roberts.

Now, two weeks later, Edmonton fans will get to experience the REMATCH. And the stakes are ever higher. Leash the monster, leash the beast! The two behemoths will be bound by a 12 foot long steel chain, each end attached to a spiked leather dog collar! This will only be brutal, folks.

Beast/Caliban II. Live from The Polish Hall. Do not miss this one.

[Bruce "The Beast" Richards]

(The room is fairly dark. Not shadowy dark. Not forboding dark. Just poorly lit. It's kind of counter-intuitive, what with the flashing coloured lights, mirrors, and the disco ball in the center of the room. But the physics inside Diamond's Gentleman's Club are not the same as those in the real world. For instance, gravity just doesn't seem to be working on that woman's chest. Ah well. Rex Caliber doesn't seem to mind. Quite the contrary. He's grinning his ass off, draining his champagne glass and snacking on a shrimp cocktail. He's sitting at a table, across from an empty chair, but he doesn't appear to be there for the company. That is, until Bruce "The Beast" Richards pulls out the chair and sits down.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: Mr. Caliber?

REX CALIBER: (Grinning.) Bruce! Sit down, get yourself a glass and start drinking! It's the Crimes celebration party, day three, and you need to be doing a lot more drinking to catch up to me.

BRUCE RICHARDS: You wanted to see me, sir?

REX CALIBER: (Pouring Bruce a drink.) What's this "sir" shit about? You call me Rex, Bruce. You've known me a long time.

BRUCE RICHARDS: I thought I did.

REX CALIBER: Don't shit on my parade, Bruce. I called you over to talk about business, but mostly to celebrate the resurgence of the greatest team the wrestling world has ever known! It's the dawn of the new and improved Crimes, baby! No capitalization, though.

BRUCE RICHARDS: (Finally cracking a smile.) Let's hope not. I'd slap you with a lawsuit so fast it'd make your head spin.

REX CALIBER: If you can get away with using D-X for three years, I think we're safe.

BRUCE RICHARDS: (Raising his glass.) All right, Rex. Here's to you.

REX CALIBER: Here's to Rex Caliber! And to our future! (He winks, then clinks the glass and drains it.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: You're supposed to savour it, Rex.

REX CALIBER: I savoured the first bottle plenty, Bruce.

BRUCE RICHARDS: It's twelve-thirty.

REX CALIBER: I mixed it with orange juice. (Smiling.) Now, let's talk business and get that out of the way. Next week. You and Caliban. The Monster versus The Beast, round two. You up for it?

BRUCE RICHARDS: You asked me that last week when you first booked it, Rex, and my answer's the same as it was back then. Hell yes.

REX CALIBER: You sure, Bruce? The Addams Family beat you down something fierce on Tuesday night.

BRUCE RICHARDS: Not you too, you son of a bitch. I can do this. I just need another opportunity. The last match was this close. (He holds his thumb and index finger just centimeters away from each other. His voice becomes a chilling whisper.) I had Caliban ten minutes into that match. Moonsault off the top rope. If it wasn't for Kyle Roberts screwing with me, taking the victory from me, we wouldn't even be having this conversation. So next week, when we're leashed together and there's nowhere for either of us to go? I hope Caliban and Iago remember that. I hope they remember that they can't rely on Kyle Roberts to save the match for them. It's just going to be me and Caliban and twelve feet of twisted metal chain. And I'll take him to hell and back before getting that three count. You can trust[/b] me on that.

REX CALIBER: (Smiling broadly now.) That's the Bruce I wanted to see. That's the cold sonofabitch I remember from the days of The Crimes, the first generation. You know, I always wanted you on my side back then.

BRUCE RICHARDS: Well, you sure had a funny way of showing it. Stealing my title belt and all.

REX CALIBER: I'm serious. Bruce Richards and The Crimes were a perfect fit. (Pops a shrimp into his mouth.) They still are.

BRUCE RICHARDS: Rex, that's ridiculous. First of all, The Crimes are REBEL and I'm NAPW. I'm not jumping ship; NAPW's my home and that's where I'm staying. Second of all...it's ridiculous.

REX CALIBER: I'm not saying you need to come over to our side, Bruce. The Crimes could do with another agent in the NAPW. There's some stupid rule in the contract that says I can't get the NAPW title myself, so as much as I'd like to win the title and then break Ravager's face open on it, it's not going to happen. But you could do it. You've got a title shot from BattleBowl, Bruce, and you've just been sitting on it.

BRUCE RICHARDS: I've been waiting for the perfect opportunity.

REX CALIBER: This it it brother! Your good friend Rex Caliber is handing you a shot at Ravager, a man you've hated since day one, and telling you that if you take that title shot, I can GUARANTEE you will win it. There's perks to being the boss. And watching Ravager being broken in half by the only guy who hates him as much as I do? That'll be sweet, sweet like honey on a stripper's titties. Then, with you at the top of the NAPW, The Crimes will be complete. REBEL Champion. NAPW Champion. NAPW Tag Team Champions. NAPW Provincial Champion. Four men, four belts, one name: The Crimes.

BRUCE RICHARDS: That is awfully tempting....but I have to focus on one thing at a time. Next Tuesday. The rematch. Caliban.

REX CALIBER: You know, I could talk to Rees and Banks if you wanted. Get you a little extra help in the ring.

BRUCE RICHARDS: No offense, Rex, but you and your boys better keep the hell away from that ring when I'm wrestling with Caliban. I'm going to beat that monster and I'm going to beat him clean.

REX CALIBER: (Shrugs.) Whatever you say, Bruce. You're a cold-hearted bastard: you've probably already got the match mapped out ten different ways.

BRUCE RICHARDS: I've got a few plans, yeah.

REX CALIBER: That's why I need you in The Crimes! You've got David Banks, the plucky kid with gumption and trashcan style. You've got Lloyd Rees, the most decorated man in the NAPW and a technical wizard. You've got The One Man Crime Spree, the most electrifying man in professional wrestling, no slouch in the mat wrestling myself. But to get Bruce "The Beast" Richards? The master of strategy and the one man wrecking crew? There's no-one better suited to The Crimes than the smooth-talking, hard-eyed Beast.

BRUCE RICHARDS: (A little angry.) I said one thing at a time, Rex.

REX CALIBER: (Trying to laugh it off.) All right, all right, I just thought I could kill two birds with one stone, Bruce. You sticking around? I could order you a shrimp cocktail.

BRUCE RICHARDS: No thank-you, Rex. I have to get back to the gym.

REX CALIBER: Always focused on the task at hand. That's something we can change in a few weeks.

BRUCE RICHARDS: You're pushing it.

REX CALIBER: All right, Bruce, leave me alone to celebrate. I'll have to figure out how to go on without you...(ogles the delicious female who's come to take his empty plate)...somehow.

BRUCE RICHARDS: Goodbye, Rex.

(Bruce Richards leaves, and Rex Caliber snaps his eyes away from the nubile woman who's cleared the table. He pulls a cell phone out of his pocket and makes a call.)

REX CALIBER: Hey, it's me. I need you to set up another appointment.

* * * * * *

(Bruce Richards is at the gym, working a weightlifting machine. He's staring straight ahead and looks ANGRY. You could almost swear that the wall he's staring at is starting to smoke from two black pinholes. He finishes his set of reps, pulls out a water bottle, and gets up from the machine.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: When I stepped into the ring with Caliban a week ago, people started telling me I was crazy. Fans of the NAPW, my friends, the few people I trust. All of them said I was crazy for one reason or another: think of your career, think of the A1E tag tournament, think of your health. All of them were thinking the same thing. You'll get hurt. Well, I did get hurt. And so did Caliban. He came away with the win, but like I said before. (Holds up his fingers and thumb again.) That close. Another day, another match, another referee...(he narrows his eyes)...it could go another way. And it WILL go another way.

BRUCE RICHARDS: That leash. Twelve feet of chain, holding Caliban and me together, joined at the neck by two dog collars. Treating us like we're animals. Like we're monsters. That's good. I can use that. That leash isn't there to keep me from running away. And it's not going to hinder me in my attack. I'm going to use it to my advantage. To know I can let go that much more. Chained to my opponent, there's nowhere for him to go except right at me. And I'll be waiting there, with The Beast to back me up. Iago wants to send Caliban after my dark side? This just gives me the opportunity to get a whole lot darker. And the leash isn't just there to keep it under control. It's there for me to help find my way back. Tuesday night. Caliban versus Bruce Richards. The monster versus The Beast. Once again, back with the sequel. Except, just like The Godfather, it's going to be so much more satisfying.

* * * * * *

(Rex Caliber's sitting at his desk in the NAPW offices. The intercom on his desk buzzes; he picks up the phone and smiles.)

REX CALIBER: Send her in.

(The door opens and Tiffany McIntyre opens the door and sits down in the chair in front of Rex's desk.)

REX CALIBER: Tiffany. Thanks for coming to see me on such short notice.

TIFFANY: Well, I didn't have much to do today. After volunteering at the hospital this morning, I had a free afternoon.

REX CALIBER: Ah yes, how are they down at the sperm bank?

TIFFANY: (Glaring at Rex.) I work in the cancer ward, Rex.

REX CALIBER: Wasted talent is what I say. Look, Tiffany, I didn't call you down here to shoot the shit. I wanted to talk to you about Bruce.

TIFFANY: What about him?

REX CALIBER: Well, it's this match he's got with Caliban. (Tiffany immediately goes dark, but Rex seems not to notice.) I mean, sure he says he's good to go, but I don't know.

TIFFANY: Bruce say's he's good, he's good. He knows what he's doing.

REX CALIBER: That's what I thought. But I've been getting second thoughts. Bruce is a big asset to the NAPW and to me, and I don't want him getting hurt. That match...it's going to get vicious.

TIFFANY: You should have thought about that when you booked the match.

REX CALIBER: I know, I know, but what was I going to do, say no? When Bruce approached me about a rematch, I--

TIFFANY: (Cuts him off, and is FURIOUS.) He talked to YOU about rematch?

REX CALIBER: Yeah, a rematch. This whole thing? Beast/Caliban II? The dog collar? It was all Bruce's idea. I thought it was a little extreme, but I figure, hell, it's gonna sell tickets.

TIFFANY: You (BLEEP)ing bastard. You're supposed to be his friend. (She stands up and moves to the door.)

REX CALIBER: Don't be mad at me, Tiffany. I have a business to run.

TIFFANY: It's not you I'm mad at.

(She leaves, slamming the door. Rex gets a broad, sadistic smile on his face.)

REX CALIBER: Good.

(Fade to black.)


(Rex Caliber used with gracious permission.)

[Iago [REBEL]]

There is the sound of someone loading up film into an old projector, followed by the sound of a switch being flipped. The projector hums to life, and an image begins to flicker before us. We are backstage at the REBEL show in Raleigh, apparently in a somewhat candid moment. The camera follows the sound of voices down a corridor, and turns a corner to see "The Angry American" MATTHEW KURTIS laughing and talking with LOVELY LYNDSEY VALENTINE. Matt's back is turned to the camera.

MATTHEW:[/b] ... can handle yourself yourself out there, sweetheart. Just keep on your toes, and watch out especially for Roberts, Krenshov and Phoenix. They're all going to be gunning for you.[/color]

LYNDSEY:[/b] We've already been over this, Matt. I'll watch my back out there. 'Sides, you've got your own match to worry about tonight. You just leave the battle royal to me...[/color]

Lyndsey is suddenly looking beyond Kurtis, beyond even the camera, and her eyes are widening. Matthew Kurtis notices this and turns just in time, as CALIBAN bears down on him bellowing. Kurtis shouts angrily, and takes a swing at the man-beast, but RINGMASTER IAGO and MIRANDA are both right there, holding back the monster and trying to calm him down.

MATTHEW:[/b] What the (BLEEP), man! You got a problem? You hold your animal back![/color]

Miranda whistles sharply and Caliban turns angrily, glaring down at her. Miranda frowns and shakes her head, and this seems to deflate Caliban's rage a bit. Matthew Kurtis is fuming, and looks like he might now take a swing. Lyndsey Valentine grabs his arm.

LYNDSEY:[/b] Matt! Save it for the Foundation tonight![/color]

There's a tense moment.

IAGO:[/b] I do apologize, Mr. Kurtis. Caliban just had another altercation with Bruce Richards in the ring, and I think he may have mistaken you for him from behind. Clearly, Caliban wants to finish what he started out there.

MATTHEW:[/b] Well you tell him in whatever language he speaks that I'm not Bruce Richards, but if he wants to tangle with a "beast" tonight, the Angry American'll give him a Mafia style ass-whooping he won't soon forget.[/color]

Iago's eyes twinkle, and a smirk crosses his face.

IAGO:[/b] Well that certainly is a very "American" answer to the problem isn't it. Brute force and empty threats.

Matthew puffs up. Them's fighting words. Lyndsey again grabs his arm.

LYNDSEY:[/b] Listen, Iago. Maybe you and your little Addams Family should get out of here. We've got matches to get ready for.[/color]

Iago tips his hat with a smile.

IAGO:[/b] Very well. Good day to you. Come along Miranda, Caliban.

Miranda takes Caliban by the arm and roughly starts hauling him after Iago, who turns to leave. Before he follows, he leans back in toward Matthew Kurtis and snorts through his mask, eyes raging. Then, Matthew and Lyndsey are left watching them go.

LYNDSEY:[/b] That's a hell of a thing, isn't it?[/color]

Matthew Kurtis continues to glare after the departing Caliban.

LYNDSEY:[/b] Don't let him rankle you, Matt. Focus, now! By the end of the night, you and Chad are going to be the tag team champions![/color]

Matthew Kurtis lets out a long breath, then smirks, and turns back to Lyndsey.

MATTHEW:[/b] Lets worry more about you winning a title shot.[/color]

The film jumps and sputters to a stop.

---

Iago sits in a large, plush easy chair. His cane rests against it, and in his right hand he is twirling a length of chain. He smiles broadly.

IAGO:[/b] Hello, Bruce. How are you doing? Hopefully well, as a few days ago you were brutally attacked in the ring by Caliban with this very length of chain.

Iago holds it up a little bit.

IAGO:[/b] It was my hope that you'd do something rash afterwards - and indeed you did, demanding of Rex Caliber a Dog Collar Match for the Supershow! I will admit, however, that I did not expect Caliban to do something rash.

Would you believe that he mistook Matthew Kurtis for you, Bruce? He appears to be so anxious to fight with you again that he nearly picked a fight backstage after our little altercation last Tuesday. I'm as shocked as anyone. Who knows what might have happened had he actually destroyed Matthew Kurtis - as he would have - before the tag title match, or that battle royale.

But I'm not here to talk about foolish Americans. I'm here to talk about foolish Canadians.

Bruce, you have once again stepped into my world. I planted the suggestion of using chains into you mind, assuredly, but it was you who took it to the extreme end. There are few matches more brutal, more... animalistic... than a dog collar match. Two men, chained together by the neck. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. This time, there can be no holding back.

You must match Caliban's intensity, his rage, or you will be destroyed. In this final battle, Bruce Richards must be left behind.

Only the Beast can hope to survive.

And so, regardless of the outcome, I win.

Iago continues to twirl the chain and he face splits into a grin. Then, everything fades into darkness except that grin, until - like the Cheshire Cat - that's all we can see.

_{Matthew Kurtis and Lyndsey Valentine used with gracious permission.}

[Bruce "The Beast" Richards]

(We fade up in the interior of Bruce Richards' apartment. It's a beautiful Saturday afternoon in downtown Edmonton, and even though it's blusteringly windy outside a bright ray of sunlight is streaming through the patio window. Bruce Richards stands at the dinner table wearing a pair of glasses, going over some papers and typing some numbers into a calculator, then scribbling something into his pad of paper. He looks up from his exhaustive paperwork, puts his glasses on the table, and addresses the camera.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: One thing I love about the wrestling industry is that it's always unpredictable. I mean, look at what's happened to the NAPW, and to REBEL, over the past month. I don't think anyone could have predicted some of the changes that have happened. The Doomriders were dethroned as NAPW Tag Team Champions, and Chris Casino got the smug slapped off him by none other than Bob Ravager. Kyle Roberts broke his seemingly unbreakable losing streak, and even that loveable scamp Warren won himself a match. And of course, thanks to the return of Static and a little bit of rage burning inside my good friend Rex Caliber, we have The Crimes, together again for the first time.

BRUCE RICHARDS: I've been thinking about what all this change means to me. I have a title shot that is essentially impossible to lose. I have a friend at the top of the business, who's ruthless enough to give me anything I want. Add that to the swath that SB and I are cutting through the A1E Tag Tournament, and it seems like I have the world on a string. And yet...something's not right. Something keeps me awake at night, with a little voice whispering in my ear, taunting me, wiggling itself into the very base of my brain.

(The camera zooms in tight on his face as he narrows his eyes and puts his hand to the side of his mouth.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: (Whispering.) "You can't beat Caliban. Caliban is better than you."

(The camera pulls back and Bruce Richards straightens up a little and composes himself.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: I can't escape it. Every time I lie down and close my eyes, in that limbo between asleep and awake, it's there waiting for me. And it's never the same voice. Sometimes it's Iago, sometimes it's Miranda, sometimes it's Kyle Roberts, sometimes it's Tiffany...you can never be sure who's going to betray me next. But I know the way to make it shut up. The ONLY way to make it shut up. I'm going to beat him. And it can't just be a simple victory. Not after two weeks ago. That was the early contender for Match Of The Year? This one will blow it out of the water. It has to be even more brutal. It has to be even more vicious. I have to drag Caliban down to a level that even Iago didn't think he was capable of. And when I get him down there, he's going to wish that his little puppet master had never sent him into that ring with me, had never convinced him to put that dog caller on. Because there will be no mercy from The Beast. And when it's all said and done, and Iago thinks he can just sweep in and add me to his little menagerie? I'll stand up and show him who's REALLY in charge.

(Bruce Richards walks into the living room and picks up a leather-bound book from the coffee table.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: You see, Iago's thinks he can predict everything that I'm going to do. Which means I have to do things he won't expect. Now, you might think that'd be hard to do; after all, he did beat an actor at chess two weeks ago. The--

(Suddenly, there's a whirlwind of activity. Tiffany McIntyre rushes into frame and hits Bruce Richards in the chest. HARD. Then she turns to the camera and pushes the camera lens out of the way.)

TIFFANY: You BASTARD!

(Turning back to a stunned Bruce, she pushes him back into the bedroom and slams the door. The camera creeps closer to the room, so that we can hear what's being said.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: What's wrong with you?

TIFFANY: It was all Rex's idea, huh? You (BLEEP)! I talked to Rex. He told me the whole thing. How it was YOUR idea to do a rematch so quickly, how it was YOUR idea to do that ridiculous (BLEEP)ing dog collar gimmick! Why would you do that?

BRUCE RICHARDS: I needed to--

TIFFANY: It's always about what YOU need, Bruce! You knew, you knew I didn't like the idea the first time, and you didn't even take that into consideration!

BRUCE RICHARDS: I didn't know I had to clear everything I did with you beforehand, Tiffany.

TIFFANY: You don't need my permission, but we should discuss things! I'm your girlfriend, I'm supposed to be your partner in this!

BRUCE RICHARDS: I can take care of myself.

TIFFANY: This isn't just about you, Bruce. Miranda took pictures of my apartment! She was in our hotel room! And she showed them to KYLE! She threatened me, Bruce, does that even occur to you?

BRUCE RICHARDS: I didn't think--

TIFFANY: You're damn right you didn't think. You were only thinking about your (BLEEP)ing ego and your (BLEEP)ing grudge and whatever the (BLEEP) you have against Caliban. I can't deal with this right now. I need some time alone.

BRUCE RICHARDS: (Quietly.) What.

TIFFANY: (Pleading.) I just need a few days to think about things. Where you and I stand.

BRUCE RICHARDS: I thought you were supposed to be my partner! So what, you're going to leave me too, just like the last one?

TIFFANY: (Furious.) (BLEEP). YOU.

(Tiffany storms out of the room; she sees the camera there and just ROCKS the cameraman. The camera falls to the floor and lands on its side. The cameraman is lying on the ground, his head taking up most of the the left side of the frame, but we can still see into Bruce Richards's bedroom. He just stands there, watching Tiffany walk away. When we hear the apartment door slam, his face reddens and he screams. He picks up the lamp from his bedside table and throws it against the wall; it shatters as Bruce sinks to his knees. The cameraman stirs and gathers up the camera, and we fade to black.)

[Iago [REBEL]]

The Edmonton International Airport - located conveniently outside of Leduc, ten minutes south of Edmonton - bustles with activity. It's Mothers' Day weekend, and people are travelling in great numbers to see family, and spend time with each other. But that's not the purpose of the trip for some. Some have come with other things in mind.

KYLE:[/b] I tell you, those seats are just not designed for tall people.

STYLIN' KYLE ROBERTS and MIRANDA stand waiting for their luggage. Kyle is rubbing one of his legs.

KYLE:[/b] I'm still a little choked that REBEL couldn't spring for a first class ticket for me. Typical.

MIRANDA: I'm certain it was nothing but an oversight on their behalf.

Miranda bends down and grabs a suitcase, then glances back to see Kyle looking directly at her butt. She chuckles to herself, and Kyle composes himself and starts rubbing his leg again.

MIRANDA:[/b] So, you worked around the Edmonton area for some time. I imagine you know a number of interesting nightspots.

Kyle smiles.

KYLE:[/b] You bet I do.

MIRANDA:[/b] Well then perhaps we should meet up later, and you can show me a few of them.

KYLE:[/b] That would be great! I know this one place down Whyte Avenue that's a great little cocktail lounge. Unless you're looking for some dancing. There's a pretty good place downtown for that.

MIRANDA:[/b] We'll figure something out. Call me on my cellphone later.

With a coy smile, Miranda takes her suitcase and starts wheeling it away from Kyle - who hates to see her leave, but loves to watch her go.

---

The airport in a medley of emotions and motivations. Some have come to Edmonton this weekend to help strengthen relationships, build the foundations of lasting partnerships. Perhaps even more. But for others, this trip is more dire. They have come to Edmonton to do battle.

IAGO:[/b] Edmonton.

RINGMASTER IAGO sits on a bench, idly watching the people pass him by.

IAGO:[/b] Edmonton is probably not the place you expected your career to come to an end, is it Bruce?

Iago smiles.

IAGO:[/b] It's not a matter of defeating Caliban. Pinning him in the ring for a three count is certainly admirable, but it's just not what's a stake here. Caliban has no mercy, no compassion. You have put yourself into a potentially deadly physical situation with - essentially - an animal.

Iago chuckles.

IAGO:[/b] Bruce, if you think your words in the past few days have intimidated Caliban, you are mistaken. Indeed, you are wasting your time. Caliban cannot be intimidated. No human, no animal that walks this earth can instill fear into his heart. He will fight with all of his strength until his strength gives out. And you, Bruce, gave him a weapon, and gave yourself only twelve feet of breathing space.

I admire how you try and hold on. How you try to keep that stability you've been struggling for. But it's all starting to slip away, isn't it? If your public spat with Miss. MacIntyre is any indication, you've lost control of the Beast. And it's just itching to get out.

But that was a private moment, so maybe I shouldn't dwell on it. I do have one more question though...

Tell me. How does Tiffany feel about you going ahead and posting that little altercation on NAPW.ca anyway?

Iago laughs.

IAGO:[/b] And then, you've got Mr. Caliber in your ear. Telling you to take back that killer instinct you had when you were with the New and Improved D-X. And what better way to do it then to join the Crimes! Imagine. You, Lloyd Rees, David Banks, Static and Rex Caliber all celebrating your accolades over champagne after the show. I imagine it would be quite the party.

Would Bill Fleming be invited I wonder? Would he want to go?

He's a good chap, that Mr. Fleming. I'd hate to see you abandon him.

But that's ultimately your choice. And I'll admit, with the help of the Crimes, I imagine you'd have no trouble beating Caliban. Not exactly the way you'd hoped to overcome him, I'm sure, using friends and allies.

Iago's grin widens.

IAGO:[/b] I don't mean to sound hypocritical. My intentions two weeks ago were to throw you of balance. To draw things out. To make you angry. My allies were there to do that.

You, however, seem to have a personal stake in overcoming Caliban single handedly.

We'll see how that works out for you.

And just like that, BOBBY O'BRADY is sitting next to Iago.

O'BRADY:[/b] I'm not even scheduled to fight this week, so you'd better have made this worth my time to fly all the way back to bleeding Canada.

IAGO:[/b] Mr. O'Brady, you owe me a favour. And this week, I intend to cash in on that favour. You can't very well do me a favour if you're in Raleigh, North Carolina.

O'BRADY:[/b] You may have done me another favour yourself, getting me out of that bloody place. At least around here people still respect the Celtic Assassins.

IAGO:[/b] Indeed they do. Come along, we have much to discuss.

Iago stands, and motions for the Irish Adonis to come with him. O'Brady sighs and follows.

---

Miranda steps out of the airport, her suitcase bouncing along behind her. She looks around, and her eyes fall on a man holding a sign that reads "Team Caliban". She walks over and smiles at the man.

MIRANDA:[/b] You aren't our driver.

"DRIVER": Mighty observant of ya.

MIRANDA:[/b] I'm an observant person. Simply Beautiful, I presume.

SIMPLY BEAUTIFUL smirks and pulls off his sunglasses.

SB: I guess it's hard for a big star like me to be incognito, ah?

MIRANDA:[/b] How may I help you, Mr. Beautiful?

SB:[/b] Look. I gotta be quick, here. And I don't mean to interfere or anything. God knows I've got enough bullshit on my plate without sticking my nose in someone else's business...

MIRANDA:[/b] It's about Bruce.

Simply Beautiful sighs.

SB:[/b] Yeah, it's about Bruce. Look. The guy's... he's a good guy. And he doesn't need this. All the mind games and shit.

MIRANDA:[/b] Look, Mr. Beautiful, I understand --

Simply Beautiful's face becomes stone.

SB:[/b] No. You don't. I've had it with mind-(BLEEP)ing (BLEEP)s. I've been through a lot of pain in the past few months - more pain then you'll ever know, if you're lucky. And I don't want to see it happen to Bruce.

MIRANDA:[/b] Mr. Beautiful. I respect that you consider Bruce to be your friend, but he asked for this match. He wanted the first one too, as I recall. It seems to me that we, the aforementioned "mind-(BLEEP)ing" (BLEEP)s, aren't doing anything he didn't want to bring upon himself.

Simply Beautiful actually laughs a bit, but it's not a happy laugh.

SB:[/b] What the hell are you talkin' about, ah?

MIRANDA:[/b] It's all about identity. Bruce Richards is desperately throwing himself into the crucible of the soul to find out who he is.

SB:[/b] That's one of the most insane things I've ever --

MIRANDA:[/b] Ask him yourself then. Bruce needs answers, and the only way to get them is to face his demons. The question is, Mr. Beautiful, can he overcome the demons he's chosen to face?

Simply Beautiful regards her for a moment.

MIRANDA:[/b] Caliban and Iago aren't even the only demons he's decided to dance with this week. And I'd like to think that it would be a crime to not notice.

Simply Beautiful leans in to Miranda and speaks very deliberately.

SB:[/b] Rex Caliber isn't Iago.

MIRANDA:[/b] No, he isn't. Iago actually tells you the truth about things. So I guess that makes Rex Caliber worse.

SB:[/b] If Bruce gets hurt, I won't take it too well, we understand each other?

MIRANDA:[/b] I think we have an understanding. But keep in mind that Caliban isn't the only one who can hurt him.

Miranda smiles now.

MIRANDA:[/b] However, I think you should really be worrying about your own problems, Mr. Beautiful.

SB:[/b] I will deal with my problems, sweetheart. Don't become one of them, ah? I'll run you out of Edmonton just like I did D! last year.

Miranda laughs.

MIRANDA:[/b] Point well taken.

She turns to go, then glances back at Simply Beautiful.

MIRANDA:[/b] Bruce "the Beast" Richards is a complicated man, Simply Beautiful. But he's very lucky to have an ally in you. Don't let him forget that.

And with that she's gone, leaving a perplexed Simply Beautiful standing at the airport doorway.

_{Simply Beautiful and Bobby O'Brady used with gracious permission. Kyle Roberts used with retroactive permission. Any similarity to persons real or dead is entirely Kyle Jago's fault.}

[Bruce "The Beast" Richards]

(Sunday morning. Bill Fleming is at the door of Bruce Richards's apartment. He knocks on the door and calls out in a sing-song voice.)

BILL FLEMING: Oh Bruuuuuuuce! A nice old lady let me in the front door, so I thought I'd let myself up. We've got a long morning ahead of us, so you'd better be up and atom, as Radioactive Man would say, ha ha. (He waits for the door to open, but there's no response from Bruce Richards.) Bruce? You in there, buddy? (No response again. Bill Fleming knocks on the door, and to his surprise it swings open. He frowns.) Look, Bruce, you have to be more careful about locking your doors, okay? You don't know who's going to be able to make their way in here with crazy old ladies letting people in the door. I mean, some freak could--

(Bill steps inside and it's very dark. The curtains are drawn, keeping out the daylight, so he hits the light switch and stops cold. The living room looks like a war zone. The pictures and trophies from the wall of fame are all piled on the floor. The glass-topped coffee table is now just a metal frame, with glass slivers on the floor, the couch, and the chair. The floor lamps have been thrown across the room and have crashed on the dining room table. A camera tripod lies on its side by the bedroom door. There are beer bottles EVERYWHERE; some whole but many smashed on the wall. Fleming looks around the place and lets out a breath.)

BILL FLEMING: Oh god. Bruce? Bruce, are you okay in here?

(He steps carefully over the entryway and makes his way to the kitchen.)

BILL FLEMING: Bruce, can you hear me?

BRUCE RICHARDS: She's gone.

(Bill turns around quickly and sees Bruce emerge from the bathroom, a bottle of beer in his hand. He leans against the doorframe, backlit by the dim light from the bathroom so we cannot see his face.)

BILL FLEMING: Bruce, what happened here? Did someone--

BRUCE RICHARDS: She's gone.

BILL FLEMING: Who?

BRUCE RICHARDS: She told me she didn't want to see me wrestling Caliban. She said she didn't know what to do anymore and then she left.

(Bruce's voice is steady but he's definitely unwell, slurring his words after too many beers. He doesn't sound sad, or angry. Just even. Like he's got nothing inside him.)

BILL FLEMING: Tiffany?

BRUCE RICHARDS: Who else.

BILL FLEMING: (Trying to soothe Bruce.) It's okay, Bruce. She'll be back, just you wait. She just needs some space.

BRUCE RICHARDS: Leave.

BILL FLEMING: What? Come on, Bruce, things aren't that bad. We need to get back on the horse, keep with the training regimen. You're going to tear yourself up if you don't keep busy. You get in there, work yourself up, then on Tuesday you'll take Caliban to hell and tie him to the post, and Tiffany will be back, just you wait.

BRUCE RICHARDS: (A little firmer this time.) LEAVE.

BILL FLEMING: I can't leave you like this--

(Bruce hurls the beer bottle over Bill's shoulder and it crashes in the kitchen.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: LEAVE!

BILL FLEMING: (Shocked.) ...okay, Bruce. I'm going. But I'll be back later. You just take it easy, okay buddy? (He holds his hands up as he edges towards the door.) I'll be back in a few hours and we can talk about all this. It'll seem better in a few hours, maybe you can stop drinking, have a shower, take a nap. (He makes it to the door and pulls it closed, hiding behind it.) I'll see you later.

(Bill closes the door and then leans back against it.)

BILL FLEMING: This is not good.

* * * * *

(Bill Fleming is sitting at a table in a coffee shop. He's talking to someone sitting off-camera. He seems pretty friendly, trying to lure his conversational partner into his confidence.)

BILL FLEMING: Uh, huh, yeah, what an exciting opportunity for you! Now, I guess you're wondering why I've called you here. See, Bruce...well, he's in kind of a rough spot right now. He's...just in a rough spot, nothing too serious, but it could throw him off his game, and I was wondering, you know, you guys are, well, maybe not friends, but you get along okay, so I was wondering...maybe you could come back with me to his apartment and talk to him about it?

(The camera pulls back to show Simply Beautiful, there in all his beautifulness, enjoying an iced tea and staring out the window with mild discomfort.)

SIMPLY BEAUTIFUL: Yeah, well, Bill, I'd love to help Bruce out, but unfortunately I've got a few problems of my own to think about. First of all, I've got a little problem with the ol' matress mambo. Not that I'm unable to perform, understand: I can perform with the best of them. I'm so good I get standing "oh!"s, if you get what I'm saying.

BILL FLEMING: I'm afraid I do, yes.

SIMPLY BEAUTIFUL: It's just that things are kind of rough for me right now, as far as the ladies go. I got my problems with Suzanna, and no matter how many girls I bring home every night, it just doesn't make it any easier. I mean, I can relate to what he's going through, but I can't give Bruce help in the chick department if I can't get my ducks in order, you know?

BILL FLEMING: Of course.

SIMPLY BEAUTIFUL: And then there's the little matter of my own match, for the NAPW Title. That's got to be my number one, Bill. And then, there's...(Shakes his head.) Look, Bruce is a good guy; he's always got my back in A1E and any other time I'd be happy to help him out. But I’ve already done my part this week. I can’t spend the entire weekend worrying about him. He’s got to face his problems himself. (He slaps some money down on the table and stands up.) Tell him I'm sorry, okay?

BILL FLEMING: ...sure.

* * * * *

(Interior, Bruce's apartment. Bruce is stumbling around the apartment, lurching from side to side. He falls to his knees and starts feeling around on the floor. He crawls behind the couch.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: Where...gotta be around here...somewhere...ah.

(We hear him press a button, and then a dial tone. He's found his cordless phone. He dials a number, and lets it ring.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: Tiffany? Tiffany, it's Bruce. Please...I'm...

(He pushes another button and the line goes dead. The phone clatters to the floor.)

* * * * *

(Bill Fleming is still sitting in the coffee shop. He's talking to someone sitting off-camera. He seems a little wary but still warm.)

BILL FLEMING: Now, I guess you're wondering why I've called you here. See, Bruce...well, he's in kind of a rough spot right now. And--

VOICE: (Off-camera.) And you're talking to me about this because?

(We pull back. Sitting across from Bill Fleming is the NAPW HeavyweightChampion, Ravager, nursing a glass of water.)

BILL FLEMING: Look, Ravager. He's in a rough spot, and I was wondering--

RAVAGER: Wondering what? You were wondering if I would come back and give big baby Bruce a pep-talk? I mean, for crying out loud, wasn't there anyone else that you could have come to before me?

BILL FLEMING: (Dejectedly.) I tried Simply Beautiful first.

RAVAGER: And that's the beginning and the end of Bruce's friends list right there. Look, Bill, just because I asked Bruce to be my lumberjack during the TEAM event doesn't mean we're best buddies all of a sudden. He's doing it because he cares as much about the NAPW as I do, but that's about as far as our association goes. As far as I'm concerned, he's still the selfish prick he was the first time I met him, and I know he'd jump at the opportunity to beat me down, not just for a chance at my title, but just for sheer pleasure. So forgive me if I’m a little wary of this “cry for help”, and don't jump at the opportunity to give your client a pep talk just because he's getting scared of Caliban. As far as I'm concerned, Bruce is getting exactly what he deserves.

BILL FLEMING: (As a last resort.) Tiffany left him.

RAVAGER: (Stares at Bill Fleming. Stares hard.) Good. (He gets up and grabs his sunglasses.) Tell Bruce he had it coming.

* * * * *

(Interior, Bruce Richards's apartment. Bruce is sitting on the couch, hopefully after clearing off some of the broken glass that was lying there. He's just sitting, staring up at the ceiling and breathing heavily. Suddenly, the phone rings. He stumbles backwards over the couch and makes quite a ruckus while looking for the phone again.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: 'llo? Who's this? (Pause.) Oh. (Pause.) I see. No, I understand why she wouldn't want to hear from me right now. I just want to-- (Pause.) Right, I understand, but if I could just hear-- (Pause.) Well, is she okay? (Pause.) Fine. I won't call again.

(He stands up and walks to the kitchen. We can hear the sound of the fridge door opening and then the unmistakeable sound of a bottlecap being popped off a beer.)

* * * * *

(Bill Fleming is still at that coffee shop. He's talking to someone sitting off-camera. He seems nervous, but trying to be confident.)

BILL FLEMING: Right, right. Well, I see your point entirely. Now, I guess you're wondering why I've called you here. See, Bruce...well, he's in kind of a rough spot right now.

VOICE: Bruce is in trouble? What happened?

(Pull back and we see that sitting opposite Bill Fleming is NAPW owner and REBEL Heavyweight Champion Rex Caliber.)

BILL FLEMING: Well, I don't want to get into too much detail right now, but things are bad. He and Tiffany had a...well, they had a bit of an altercation, and--

REX CALIBER: Oh man, that's too bad. I know how hard it can be dealing with hormonal women.

BILL FLEMING: (Clears his throat.) Anyhow, Bruce is a little...focused on this problem, and I want him to stop worrying about this and start thinking about Caliban again. I mean, I know how upsetting this probably is for him, but he has other things to worry about right now. He needs to get his head around the match again, and I figured you might be able to help him. Seeing as how you two are "friends" again.

REX CALIBER: (Frowning.) Well, I do have an awful lot on my plate right now, what with running a business, negotiating the sale of my bar, defending my REBEL Pro title, and, oh yeah, trying to destroy Bob Ravager.

BILL FLEMING: I understand...

REX CALIBER: (Breaking out into a grin.) But what kind of a guy would I be if I couldn't set a little time aside for my good friend and future partner-in-Crime Bruce Richards? I'm kind of busy today, but I'll be by tomorrow afternoon with a case of beer.

BILL FLEMING: I think beer is the last thing Bruce needs right now.

REX CALIBER: Fine, a box of wine then.

(Bill Fleming stands up.)

BILL FLEMING: Thanks a lot, Rex, I really appreciate it. (He puts a little change down on the table, but Rex Caliber puts his hand on top of Bill's and stares at him menacingly.)

REX CALIBER: I heard that tone, Bill. I heard it when you called me and Bruce "friends". Why did you do that, Bill? Aren't we all friends?

BILL FLEMING: We were until Static showed up.

REX CALIBER: (Lips curl up in a smile but his eyes are still menacing.) Static's a changed man, Bill. He's not the same guy he was back during The Crimes Version 1.0. You'd like him.

BILL FLEMING: Right.

REX CALIBER: You just keep it in mind. Bruce and I are friends. And I hope to make sure that we stay good friends for a long, long time.

BILL FLEMING: Right.

REX CALIBER: (Releases his hand, all smiles again.) All right, Bill, I'll see Bruce tomorrow and he can talk to me all about his girl trouble. I'll get his head on straight. Don't you worry.

(Bill Fleming walks away, and Rex pulls out a cellular phone. He dials a number.)

REX CALIBER: It's me. Yeah, everything's working out fine. Smooth as a stripper's--just smooth, okay? (He hangs up and chuckles to himself.)

* * * * *

(Interior, Bruce Richards's apartment. Bruce is once again sitting on the couch, phone in one hand, beer in another. The phone rings, and he instinctively lifts the beer to his head and we hear the hollow bonk as the bottle connects with his skull. Then, he lifts the phone and presses the button.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: Hello? Uh-huh. (Pause.) Why the hell are you calling me? (Pause.) Right. That is interesting. (Pause.) All right, I will. Don't ever call this number again.

(Bruce stands up from the couch and brushes himself off. He walks to the mirror, and stares himself hard in the face. He's unshaven, exhausted, and pale. He stares for a long time, then pulls his lips back and bares his teeth. Next, he tries putting a smile on his face, but it's forced. Then, he drops all emotions from his face, except from his eyes, which are cold and determined. Finally, tired of trying on his different faces, he walks into the bedroom and closes the door.)

* * * * *

(Bill Fleming is once again outside Bruce Richards's apartment door. He takes a deep breath and steels himself before knocking on the door.)

BILL FLEMING: Bruce?

BRUCE RICHARDS: (From inside.) It's open.

(Bill Fleming opens the door and is stunned again. The curtains are open, and the room is...well, if not clean, getting there. There are yellow garbage bags in the living room full of broken glass and bottles; the wall of fame is back to normal, the floor has been swept, and the lamps are back to their regular places. We can even hear a vacuum going in the background.)

BILL FLEMING: Bruce?

(Bruce Richards comes out of the bedroom, holding the vacuum cleaner. He looks tired and hurt; there are circles under his eyes, which are bloodshot, and he's moving very slowly, but he's obviously had a shower and a shave, and he's in decent clothes.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: Hey, Bill. Don't mind me, just cleaning up the bedroom. Had a hell of a night last night.

BILL FLEMING: I can see that. (Closes the door and walks into the living room.) You sure you're all right?

BRUCE RICHARDS: Of course I'm not. I'm devastated. But that doesn't matter right now. I've got plenty of other things to focus on. Making Caliban hurt, for one. Making him hurt just as bad as I'm hurting right now. And for another, making Iago and Miranda afraid. Scaring them when they see what I will do to Caliban. And scaring them even more when I shut it off, put it away, and get back to normal. I figured out something last night, when I was at my worst. Iago and Miranda? They're not afraid of a monster. They make monsters; that’s their job. They did it with Caliban, they’re trying it with me, and based on the events of this weekend, they’re well on their way to making Kyle Roberts a monster, too. I can’t intimidate them by acts of violence and brutality; that’s their whole life. But I know what they are afraid of. They're afraid of a human being, someone who has dreams and fears and emotions, and the most alien thing of all to them: hope. Someone who they can’t manipulate and twist. Someone with his own mind. Who puts on the leash, not because he needs to be brought to heel, but out of his own free will. I can give them both, the monster and the man. I just need to focus on them, giving them a dose of pain, a shot of terror. You reminded me of that this morning, Bill. I just needed some time to blow off some steam. My head's back in it. (Smiles.) Trust me.

BILL FLEMING: Oh, well, that's good Bruce. I know you must be hurting right now, but I'm glad you're back in the fighting spirit. (Claps his hands and rubs them together.) All right, the first thing we need to do is--

BRUCE RICHARDS: Bill, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I've had a rough night. I just want to clean my place up and get a good night's sleep, and get ready for tomorrow. We can talk about whatever you want then, all right?

BILL FLEMING: ...yeah, of course, Bruce. You get your rest, and we'll talk things over in the morning. (He walks over to the door, then smacks himself in the head.) I almost forgot! Rex Caliber heard about the bad shape you were in, and he said he'd come over tomorrow afternoon to see how you were. Should I cancel?

BRUCE RICHARDS: No, that's okay. You can call him and tell him I'll meet him in his office, though. Thanks, Bill. For everything.

BILL FLEMING: That's what I do for my clients. Everything.

(Bill Fleming lets himself out, and Bruce walks into the kitchen. He comes back out with a cup of coffee, and raises it to his lips. Suddenly, he gets a twitch in his right hand. He starts shaking, drops of coffee splashing on his shirt and onto the floor, and he just STARES at his hand. His nostrils flare, and he grits his teeth. Finally, his hand stops shaking, and he takes a sip. Then, he switches his coffee mug to his other hand and walks to his bedroom. Just before he reaches the door, he smashes his right hand into the wall, over and over again. Then he stares at it again, shakes it out, and walks into the bedroom. Fade to black.)


(Ravager, Simply Beautiful, and Rex Caliber all used with gracious permission.)

[Iago [REBEL]]

Edmonton is warm this time of year. The sub is shining and the temperature is definately in the twenties... that Celsius, not Fahrenheit. Inside of the shuttle from the airport, however, it's nice and cool. RINGMASTER IAGO sits, smirking, looking between MIRANDA and BOBBY O'BRADY. He casts a sidelong glance at the camera pans over to see CALIBAN, looking somewhat out of place, mask and dreadlocks leaving the man-beast as inscrutable as ever as he appears to stare down at the back of the seat in front of him.

O'BRADY:[/b] Does he ever say anything?

IAGO:[/b] Do you really want to know the answer to that question?

O'BRADY:[/b] He's giving me the creeps. All he does is bloody sit there!

Caliban's head turns slowly and deliberately to face the lone Celtic Assassin. O'Brady clears his throat and looks away. Iago and Miranda both snicker.

O'BRADY:[/b] Look, I don't need this. What the hell did you ask me up to Edmonton for?

IAGO:[/b] Miranda. You're planning to see Mr. Roberts this evening correct? A bar or club or something?

MIRANDA:[/b] Yes.

IAGO:[/b] You will be taking Mr. O'Brady with you.

O'BRADY:[/b] Wait just a bloody second. Stylin' Kyle Roberts? You want to take me out to a party with Stylin' Kyle Roberts? I didn't come all the way to Edmonton to be her bloody chaperone!

IAGO:[/b] Relax, Mr. O'Brady. You aren't playing anyone's chaperone. The truth is, I'm playing the middle man in this situation.

Bobby frowns.

O'BRADY:[/b] Roberts wants to see me? What are you, his wee errand boy, now?

Iago laughs.

IAGO:[/b] Not at all. Merely a concerned associate to whom you owed a favour. I'm, in turn, doing him a favour to repay the favour he did for me two weeks ago. An exchange of business, Mr. O'Brady! I am, after all, a businessman.

Bobby shakes his head.

O'BRADY:[/b] Always riddles with you. Bloody English.

Iago laughs again.

MIRANDA:[/b] As amusing as this all is. What about Bruce Richards? Shouldn't we be worrying about him?

Iago smiles.

IAGO:[/b] I think that Bruce Richards needs to worry more about himself at this point. He'll be at the match. That's all that matters. And, frankly, Caliban isn't the one who's lost his focus.

Iago laughs. As he does, the camera pans around the shuttle. Miranda smiles. Bobby O'Brady shakes his head and looks out the window. And Caliban just keeps staring downward. The camera continues to pan toward the man-beast, and circles around to see over his shoulder --

At the picture of Lyndsey Valentine. Darkness.

_{Bobby O'Brady brought to you with generous support of Allan Chambers, and viewers like you.}

[Bruce "The Beast" Richards]

(Monday afternoon. Rex Caliber stands behind his desk in the NAPW offices. He's putting up the calendar that he had in the office of the Nexus Sports Club, you know, the one with the mostly-naked women splayed across giant monster trucks. He steps back from it, examining it, trying to see if it's in exactly the right placement. Then, satisfied, he sits back down at the desk and shuffles a few papers out of the way. He looks very pleased with himself. The phone on his desk rings, and he picks it up.)

REX CALIBER: Hello? Oh hello gorgeous, I was wondering when you were going to be giving me a call. (Pause.) You tease. I oughta bring you down to my office and give you a spanking. (Pause.) Oh, he's here? Well, what's with the small talk? Send him in!

(Rex hangs up the phone and clears the rest of the papers, then stands up to go to his wardrobe. He opens the door and examines himself in the full-length mirror on the inside of the door. He fixes the collar on his jacket and smooths out his goatee. There's a knock at the door, and he turns around to walk back towards the desk.)

REX CALIBER: (As he sits down.) Come in.

(The door slowly swings open, and Bruce "The Beast" Richards enters. He's very obviously tried to make himself look as good as possible in his suit and tie, but his face betrays him. He's tired and hurt. You can tell it in his eyes. Rex flashes him a weak grin, and gets up from the desk to shake Bruce's hand.)

REX CALIBER: Bruce, buddy, good to see you.

BRUCE RICHARDS: (Returning the handshake and smiling weakly.) Good to see you too, Rex.

REX CALIBER: Sit down, man, sit down. (Bruce goes to take the chair in front of the desk, but Rex gestures to the couch and coffee table.) Nah, man, we aren't here to talk official business. We're just two friends havin' a bitch session. I even got Theresa to show me how to use my special expresso machine to make you something if you want.

BRUCE RICHARDS: Thanks, Rex, but just a plain coffee will do.

REX CALIBER: (Grins.) Can do that. (He goes over to his refreshment table to pour a cup.) Care to make your coffee a little Irish this morning?

BRUCE RICHARDS: I probably shouldn't...

REX CALIBER: Come on, Bruce, it's one drink. It ain't gonna kill you, brother.

BRUCE RICHARDS: ...yeah, all right. That'd be good, actually.

REX CALIBER: That's the Bruce Richards I wanted to see! (He pours a generous helping of Irish Whiskey into the cup, and a splash of Irish Cream.) There you go.

BRUCE RICHARDS: (Taking a sip.) Damn, this is strong.

REX CALIBER: Oh, I'm sorry, if you wanted the pussy version you should have told me ahead of time. What happened to the guy who drank an entire bottle of Jack Daniels on the Titanic II?

BRUCE RICHARDS: I'm surprised you remember that, as drunk as you were that week. (Takes another sip.) No, it's fine. I'm good, I'm good.

REX CALIBER: So, Bill said you were having some problems. You second-guessing your decision to take on Caliban? I mean, I would understand if you were having doubts about it, the guy's a monster, literally, but there's not much I can do about it. I can't cancel the match thirty-six hours before the show. Beast/Caliban II is one of the biggest matches on the card, man.

BRUCE RICHARDS: (Shaking his head, frowning.) No, Rex, that's not it. I'm still sure about the match. (Stares up at him.) Right now, it's one of the only things I am sure of. I need that match, to feel...something.

REX CALIBER: Good. (Claps him on the back.) Not only is it good for business, sorry but it's true, but it's good to see the old Bruce back, ready to fight and bleed not just for the glory and the prestige, and not just for the fun of it, but just because that's what you do. I don't know why you're making that change, but I gotta say I like it!

BRUCE RICHARDS: Tiffany left me.

REX CALIBER: Oh. (Pauses.) Why?

BRUCE RICHARDS: Because of the match.

REX CALIBER: She couldn't handle you going up against Caliban? Bruce, I don't want to say this, but I gotta: if she can't handle you going into a match that scares her a little, then you shouldn't be with her. She knows the business, she's seen you bloody and broken before. This shouldn't be anything new for her.

BRUCE RICHARDS: It's not just the match.

REX CALIBER: But that was the last straw, wasn't it?

BRUCE RICHARDS: That's not--

REX CALIBER: Don't try and make excuses for her, Bruce. I know Tiffany pretty well; not as well as you, probably, but I know how she was with Cyrus. And with Ravager. She loves her guys, and she tries to do what's best for them, but she's overprotective, and nurturing, and she smothers people. That's how you lost your edge, man. You've been given a golden opportunity here, Bruce, an opportunity to figure out who you want to be without trying to fit into whatever little mold Tiffany wants you to fit into. Think of it like a vacation: it's a little time off from the woman. (Bruce winces, but Rex keeps going.) I know it's rough, but you have to face the facts. You tried to call her, right? (Bruce nods.) What happened?

BRUCE RICHARDS: She got her brother to call me back and tell me not to call her again.

REX CALIBER: (Nodding.) I told you. You tried your best, and now you just have to focus on your match. And then the next match. And then the next match. Have you spent so much time with the cheerleader that you've forgotten who you are? You're Bruce "The Beast" Richards. You're the heartless s-o-b who doesn't care about what people think about him, you just focus on the matches. Taking people apart and loving every minute of it. She wants to come back, she'll come back, but there's nothing else you can do right now.

BRUCE RICHARDS: ...I guess you're right.

REX CALIBER: You're damn right I'm right, Bruce! Right now, you just focus on ripping Caliban a new throat-hole, and everything else will come easy. You've got a title match coming up, and once you've got that Heavyweight Title Belt, there's nothing that's going to get in your way. Think about it, Bruce. NAPW Heavyweight Champion Bruce Richards and REBEL Pro Heavyweight Champion Rex Caliber: partners in...well, you get the point.

BRUCE RICHARDS: You can't stop doing business for five minutes, can you?

REX CALIBER: You were the one to insist we have this meeting in my office, Bruce. I can't help but be reminded of business.

BRUCE RICHARDS: Touche. (Finishes his coffee and stands up to go.) Thanks for the talk, Rex. I appreciate it.

REX CALIBER: Don't mention it, Bruce. That's what friends are for.

(Bruce lets himself out and Rex Caliber sits down at his desk again, and pulls out a notepad. He smiles, starts whistling a tune, and begins to scribble something on the paper.)

* * * * *

(Back at Bruce's apartment. It's a little spartan, thanks to the recent "spring cleaning". He sits at his table, again pouring over some documents, then rubs his eyes and rests his head in his hands. He sighs, then begins talking.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: There are about a dozen more things I'd like to be doing than this paperwork and this promo. I'd like to be spending this afternoon at the gym, for one thing. Or at the movies, with a bag of popcorn, taking it easy like Bob Ravager. With a match like he's got, I'm surprised he can spare the time from his busy schedule of spite and self-loathing. Or, god help me, going to the greenhouse, looking for new hanging plants with...(He looks up and stares out the window.) But then again, there are things that you want to be doing, and things that need doing. Like looking over my finances. And firing off this last salvo. Focusing on the things that need to get done are what keeps me moving forward at a time like this.

(He gets up from the table and addresses the camera directly.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: Saturday night was the worst night of my life. And I've had some pretty terrible things happen to me lately - and the year's not even half-over yet. So why in god's name would I dare put that up for everyone to see? I had no choice. To do anything else would be like lying to people. What was I going to do, just ignore the fact that...that she wasn't around anymore? To go into denial about it? That's just what Iago wants me to do. Push it inside, keep it quiet, and let it twist me up further and further. It'd make it that much easier for him. Well, I'm not going to do his job for him. It's all out in the open. He wants to work me over, wrap me around his little finger...he'd better give up now. Bruce Richards is nobody's lapdog, not Iago's, not Bill Fleming's, and not even Rex Caliber's.

(Bruce smiles and cracks his knuckles.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: I'm not an idiot, Iago. I know exactly what Rex wants. He wants me on the Crimes because he knows I'd be an asset to him. He's a smart guy: he knows that he could sic me on Bob Ravager and I'd be more than happy to oblige. And he knows that I'm better to him as an ally than an enemy. To tell the truth, he makes a persuasive argument. After all, what kind of a guy would defy his boss and his good friend, someone who would bend over backwards to get me what I want? Who would, if given the choice, go against the authority, making things that much harder for himself? (Nods.) Oh, right. I would. I've already done it. I saw what Joey Malone wanted to do to the NAPW and I hated it, and I told him off, and he did his best to make my life hell. But I'm still here, and Joey? He's the Extreme Jobber Champion. So yeah, I'm not necessarily going to shake hands with the devil just to get what I want. But then again...Rex Caliber's stuck by me for a long time. And he's the only person in the NAPW who tried to help me through what I'm going through. And he's got my interests in mind, and if they just happen to line up with his plan to destroy Ravager...as you can see, there's a lot to think about.

(Bruce sits on the back of his couch and rests his elbows on his knees.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: Tomorrow night I go up against Caliban again. The first time it was a match that people thought I was crazy to take. And now, when the stakes are higher, and the threat is that much greater, I'm forced to stand on my own two feet and consider the idea that maybe, just maybe, they were right. Why was I so eager to face Caliban again? Was it because I needed retribution, pure and simple? Was it because I wanted to silence the critics, and prove that I can take on anyone, and I mean ANYONE, and make it the opponents that I choose? Or was it like Iago says, because I see something of myself in Caliban that I hate in myself? Maybe all of those reasons. Maybe none of them. And in the end, it doesn't matter why I demanded the rematch. It's been done. The only thing that matters is that I'm doing it.

(He sighs again, but it's not a sad sigh. It's a sigh of exhaustion. Of a man who's tired and just wants to rest. But he's got something else to say, and he won't rest until he says it.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: People want me to be different things. Tiffany wants me to be a man she can live with. Iago wants me to be a furious animal in the ring. Bill Fleming wants me to be his client. Simply Beautiful wants me to be his partner. Rex Caliber wants me to be the ruthless destroyer. And in the end, people expect me to choose one of them and stick with it. But why do I need to pick just one? I'm not saying I can be ALL of them, but there's more to a man than a label. I'm too complicated to be summed up in one sentence. And that's what gives Iago pause. I'm more than the one-dimensional creature he wants me to be. I'm a ruthless wrestler and a ruthless businessman. I'm a bloodthirsty opponent and a caring human being. I'm a man that can control the monster inside him. I'm the monster and the master. (Smiles.) I'm Iago AND Caliban. Not only am I something he can't understand, but I'm more than the sum of him and his client. I'm better than the two of them put together. Why do you think he had to add Miranda to his cadre of freaks? He knew that he needed more, because somewhere out there there was someone that saw right through him. He wants someone else to hide behind, and to be fair, Miranda's the most complex thing about their twisted group. But she's still just window dressing. I see through her, I see through Caliban, and I see through Iago. And when I'm done with the monster? I'm coming after the master. To show him exactly why he should never (BLEEP) with The Beast. Tuesday night, I'm going to put Caliban down and I'm going to put Iago in his place. Trust me on that.

(Fade to black as Bruce goes back to his table and shuffles through the paper.)


(It's been guest-star-a-palooza this week! As always, Rex Caliber used with gracious permission.)