BIGBOSS Batts, clipboard in hand, waves goodbye to a few of the day's clinic participants.

BRAZEN clinics are always well attended. Always an eclectic blend of youth and experience alike looking for an edge or simply to show face in front of DEFIANCE brass. The BRAZEN player-coaches are sometimes joined by DEFIANCE luminaries to share knowledge and keep general skills sharp. Iron sharpens iron and all that.

There’s a few stragglers still lingering in the ring, Batts watches and makes a few notes on his clipboard. He eventually picks up on the clapping coming from the arena seating above him.

Angus Skaaland is seated with his elbows on his knees. Sitting beside him is the double wide “Problem Solver” and BRAZEN Onslaught champion Adrian Payne.

Angus Skaaland:
Howdy, Batts. Don’t mind him, this is what he’s for.

BIGBOSS Batts:
Adrian and I are well acquainted, Mr. Skaaland. What can I do for you this morning?

The Motormouth of Malcontent purses his lips, puffs out his cheeks and holds his hands palms out.

Angus Skaaland:
You’re gonna get cute now? Pretty sure at the end of that schmooze at the pay per view you nearly elbowed me in the face, Mr. Big Boss. You came out shoulder to shoulder with that fucking kid to his lame fucking music, so…

BIGBOSS Batts:
So, what? So what, Mr. Skaaland? Honestly. As if Edward White alone wasn’t enough, now we have you sitting here making Bronson Box’s threats for him. I’m here because the guys that started it, guys like your client bounced. Either because they had bigger better things to do or they just got bored. And it’s a good idea. That’s why a lot of us are here, actually giving back to this place with our time and our experience. Only for us to be hassled and our work cut off at the knees and belittled by dickheads like Ed White…

Angus Skaaland holds out a finger.

The finger attached to the hand attached to the wrist that sports a huge gold Rolex watch with the inscription “To my friend Angus, From Ed” on the underside.

Angus Skaaland:
Please don’t call my friend Eddy names, Batts. A little decorum, please. As I see it all Mr. White has ever wanted was what’s best for this place. And how do you repay him? Repay one of the literal founding fathers of BRAZEN as a concept in my client Bronson Box? You make fools of them live on pay per view. You and that blond himbo with the name and his brother with that fuckin’ haircut.

Batts shakes his head with a smile and taps his pen against his clipboard.

Angus Skaaland:
Something funny you care to share? I’d hate to think you’re laughing at Adrian here. You know how he can get…

BIGBOSS Batts:
I was told by everybody how smart you are. Angus Skaaland is a canny operator, he keeps ‘em laughing but he knows this company better than anyone. Helped Eric Dane start the damn place. He’s in DEF’s DNA.

Skaaland narrows his eyes silently.

Batts shakes his head.

BIGBOSS Batts:
Underestimating that Doubleday kid would be the stupidest decision you and your two… goddamn benefactors could make. I get it, he and his brother are marked men or whatever mob lingo Ed’s told you to use for it. You admitted in Puerto Rico you missed Box at first. That you sat there and mocked him and didn’t clock him until later as something really, truly special. You've got Doubleday shaped blind spot developing, Skaaland...

Angus Skaaland:
You’re comparing that yolked loaf of wonderbread, Doubleday to BRONSON?!

Canned laughter from Skaaland as he leans on Adrian’s shoulder and fake guffaws into the Onslaught champions tracksuit.

BIGBOSS Batts keeps smiling, just shaking his head.

This clearly pisses Angus off, he snarls as he gets to his feet.

He adjusts his big awesome friendship watch.

Adrian Payne doesn't break eye contact with Batts as he gets to his feet. “The Problem Solver” looms above the former BRAZEN champion. Batts to his credit doesn't flinch.

Angus Skaaland:
You’re absolutely right about one thing, bud. I am smart. I am in this place's DNA. I’m the ghost of its long lost BALLS, motherfucker. Listen you c-stringer lowlife. You’re sweet special boy Doubleday is going to be sent back to Mayo, Florida in a literal fucking mayo jar. I’ll save a little for Troy so she can make a delicious sangwich with what’s left of her former pupil. I’m sure she’ll be heartbroken up there on bitch mountain. You see ol’ Dabs or his soon to be cranially circumcised brother you relay that message, can you do that for me?

Back over Batts’ shoulder in the ring the big Texas Stampede Gordy Lovett and DEFIANCE referee Hector Navarro both lean against the ropes.

Hector Navarro:
Everything ok here?

BIGBOSS Batts:
Mr. Skaaland was just leaving, Hector.

Gordy Lovett:
They need an escort?

Batts smiles up at a scowling Angus Skaaland.

BIGBOSS Batts:
No, Mr. Skaaland is well acquainted with the Plex. I’m sure he can see himself out.

Angus turns and heads out without incident.

Adrian Payne cocks an eyebrow at big Gordy Lovett up in the ring.

Adrian Payne:
Felton says what's up, fat boy.

The Problem Solver laughs insincerely to himself and nobody in particular as he turns and follows after Angus. Batts breathes a heavy sigh to himself and taps his clipboard.

BIGBOSS Batts:
Gordy, give Dougie and Dabs a call, will ya’?

The big barrel chested Texan nods in agreement.

Gordy Lovett:
Gall dang rapscallion. That Angus makes me more nervous than whore in church, man, shit.

Gordy pulls out his phone and starts to dial as we fade to black.

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