Backstage After Slam

[Deleted]

*We see a tracking shot of a very angry Caleb Fourchon as he stalks backstage at the Dunkin Donuts Arena. The big man is muttering guttural Gallic obscenities to himself while shoving aside those too slow to get out of his way.  When he spots the camera he stops and addresses it.*


Steve Orbit, you make huge problem fer yerself jest now. Ah doin mah ting; getting in Mod Deuce's fat pumpkin head; boddering nobuddy. Den out comes you wit yer flappin yap. You ruin mah moment, Steve Orbit. So dis whut you gonna do: you gonna apologize. You come to me, stoopid sissy hat in hand, humble as a preacher, and say 'Sorry fer puttin mahself in yer bidness, sir. It nevah happen agin.' Udderwise, Ah figger out anudder way to make us square. One dat cost you more den jest pride. You unnerstand me, son?


*Fourchon then walks out of frame.*

[Steve Orbit]

@oaklandmack

Heard Fourchon wants an apology. No. I ain't hard to find.

[Deleted]

*The establishing shot is of a door with a "WCF Locker Room: Authorized Personnel Only" taped to it.  When the camera pulls back we several women of dubious moral character lined up and waiting.  Most are fixated on their phones, and as such are unaware when they are approached.*


Voice from out of frame:  Hullo, ladies.



*The camera pans to the right, revealing a sweat-soaked, blood-stained Caleb Fourchon.  The Television Title is strapped around his waist, and he is wearing Steve Orbit's pimp hat awkwardly atop his greasy head.*


Assembled bimbos:  Eeek!  Run away!  Run away!


*The ring rats scurry off.  Caleb stands there silently for a moment, then backs out of the shot.*

[Steve Orbit]

@oaklandmack

gonna take more than my hat to fix caleb fourchons funky ass #LOL #TakeAShower

[Deleted]

Backstage after the 1/19 Slam

*Sounds of destruction are heard out of sight. Whoever is holding the camera runs to investigate the source. Turning the corner, they see an enraged Caleb Fourchon picking up a trash can and hurling it into the wall. He kicks another hard enough to launch it at the cameraman, who barely dodges it. With a crazed yell, Fourchon takes hold of a vending machine and rocks it until it tips over. Climbing on top of it, be begins to jump up and down.*


Voice from out of the shot: Fourchon!


*The camera pans over, showing a grim looking Steve Orbit, still in his referee’s uniform. He strides over to Caleb, who by now has gotten off the snack machine. They face off.*


Steve Orbit: Game’s over. I want my lid. Now.


Caleb Fourchon: You git nuttin, Steve Orbit! It yer fault Ah not Televishun Champyuon no more!!


*The Mack rolls his eyes.*


Steve Orbit: My fault?! Boy, Serbia beat you fair and square for that belt. Don’t blame me because you couldn't get the job done.


*Caleb shakes his head violently.*


Caleb Fourchon: Non! It onnacount of you Ah lose. And fer dat, you never seein yer hat agin!


*Steve takes a step forward, bumping chests with the larger man.*


Steve Orbit: Caleb, I swear, if you don’t give me back what’s mine I’ma beat the dirt right off you.


Caleb Fourchon: Lesee if you can!


*The two are nose to nose, when… *


Another voice from out of the shot: Hey! Hey! Hey! What is going on here?


*Seth Lerch comes into the frame, moving to separate the two wrestlers.*


Steve Orbit: Fool took my hat.


Caleb Fourchon: It mah hat now, because Steve Orbit make me lose mah tidle.


Seth Lerch: Right. The hat thing. Look, Steve, Caleb: I can't have you two raising a ruckus backstage. There's no money in it for me. The question is, how can we settle this in a way that makes everybody happy?


*Seth strokes his chin in contemplation. He nods solemnly.*


Seth Lerch: Right now, neither of you are booked for Payback. So, let’s do this: next Sunday, the two of you will have a match. But not just any match. It’s going to be a Ladder Match. The first one to climb the ladder and retrieve Steve Orbit’s hat wins. How’s that sound?


*Neither Caleb nor Steve answer. They’re both too busy mean mugging the other.*


Seth Lerch: Orbit, you want your hat back. Caleb, you want to fight Steve. Simple. You know this is the best way to handle this.


*Finally, Steve gives a brief nod of approval.*


Steve Orbit: Aight. Book the match, Seth.


*Caleb agrees as well.*


Caleb Fourchon: Yeah, boss. Dat werk fer me.


*Seth grins and puts an arm around a shoulder of each man.*


Seth Lerch: Great! See, boys: there isn’t any problem wrestling can’t solve.


*Both Fourchon and Orbit glare at Seth before the shot fades out.*