[The harmonies and polyphonies of the Philip Glass Ensemble are piped in from an unseen soundsystem and fills our ears. The scent of freshly oiled hardwood mixes with the musk of old books overcoming our olfactory sense. For a moment we think we might have accidentally stumbled into a showing of The Great Gatsby, but no, Lana Del Rey isn’t here. This isn’t some shack owned by some pretender, some peasant. Jay Gatsby might as well be Jay down at the Shop n’ Save, this palace is far more lush than anything the mind of Mr. Fitzgerald could have ever dreamed.]

 

Immigrant House Slav... erm, Maid:

Senor White, Senor Bronson es aqui.

 

[Edward White smiles as he sets down his copy of the Wall Street Journal, rising from his plush leather wingback chair. The Socialite grimaces halfway up though, holding his ribs. A souvenir from Ronnie Long and his stupid shovel from the last episode of Defiance TV. Ed gathers himself and smoothes out his red silk smoking jacket, tapping his pipe in a nearby ashtray.]

 

Edward White:

I don’t pay you below minimum wage to stand around, show the man in!

 

[The little indentured servant scampers off, a few moments later the man himself makes his entrance to Ed’s parlor. A starched white dress shirt with the sleeves neatly rolled up, thin dark red tie, dark brown suspenders, pressed khaki’s, brown loafers and a pair of tiny round wireframe sunglasses. The Wargod knows how to dress for success.]

 

Bronson Box:

Quite the place you have here, Ed. Impressive.

 

[Taking off his sunglasses and tucking them into his front shirt pocket Bronson’s eyes immediately go to the walls of books extending from the floor all the way to the high vaulted ceiling. A spiral staircase near the door the only means to the upper levels of literature. A far cry from the modest, dusty, disheveled bookshelves in Boxer’s apartment.] 

 

[Ed walks over and shakes his friend and tag team partners hand.]

 

Edward White:

This is the sort of place men of our stature and station deserve, my friend. Come. Scotch, correct?

 

[Bronson nods follows Ed back over to the sitting area.]

 

Bronson Box:

Neat.

 

Edward White:

Good man.

 

[Edward opens up a nearby antique globe revealing a well stocked bar containing enough fine liquor to buy a large four bedroom home. The particular bottle of scotch Ed pours from causes Boxer’s eyes to go a little wide.]

 

Bronson Box:

My God Ed. You’re too kind, lad.

 

[The Socialite turns around with a flourish and a smile and hands a glass to Bronson.]

 

Edward White:

Only the absolute best for my friends, Bronson. You’ll learn that in time.

 

[The two men take their seats. Bronson’s eyes again wander to the grand rooms impressive dressings. Particularly the collection of stuffed game peppered around the shelves of books. The most notable a large brown bear positioned on its hind legs, its face frozen in a state of lip curled ferociousness. Ed notices Bronson’s gaze.]

 

Edward White:

Like that little fellow, do you? Killed most of the beats in this room myself, including that monster. Stalked him for hours before I finally had the chance to take him down.

 

Bronson Box:

Nobel end for a beast like that. Little did he know Edward White was walkin’ around with that one bullet with his name on it, eh?

 

[Boxer raises his glass slightly to his friend.]

 

Edward White: [wink]

One could say the same for our opponents... little do they know.

 

[Bronson just smiles and takes a long draw from his drink.]

 

Bronson Box: [genuinely impressed]

My God that’s bloody good.

 

Edward White: [smile]

Like I said, only the best. We are the Blood Diamonds after all.

 

Bronson Box:

Indeed.

 

[The Wargod breathes a heavy sigh, swirling the amber liquid around in his glass pensively.]

 

Edward White:

What’s wrong my boy, no better spot to share your troubles than over a drink as fine as this.

 

Bronson Box:

Dane. As much as I want to crack into Ryan and Python’s bloody skull’s. Blasted Eric Dane ruined everything last week. I was going to take that FIST title and use that no holds barred, no disqualification ruleset as a bloody KNIFE on anyone who dared get in our way.

 

Edward White:

Eric Dane is a hypocrite and a liar and don’t let anyone tell you any different. He’s where HE is because of HIS friends. And if the Eric Dane from ten years ago was standing here he’d be lamenting about some authority figure or another standing in the way of he and Team Danger from taking over the damned world himself. He’s still in this game today and he’s not a tenth the men we are.

 

So what does that tell you, eh? We're their betters, Bronson. You and me.

 

[Bronson nods and takes another sip of his scotch.]

 

Edward White:

You’ll get another shot at the FIST. You’ll have your blade, my friend.

 

Bronson Box:

We’ve also got a ladder war that definitely requires our care and attention. I do believe the world title would look good over your shoulder, Ed.

 

Edward White: [a little apprehensive]

So should we find ourselves in the ladder war together, I have nothing to worry about, yes? Can't blame me for seeking clarity on this issue. You DID stab me in the kidney during the last ladder war if you remember.

 

[Bronson raises a hand and smiles.]

 

Bronson Box:

The lone wolf act almost got me fired from this company, Edward. If we find ourselves in that match together the other three poor souls involved will have quite possibly the worst night of their lives and believe me... you’ll walk out Defiance World Champion even if large pieces of that egg throwing reprobate are still bloody attached to the damned thing.

 

Just promise me if that little blond pissant Sawyer manages to find himself in the match we’ll leave him in more pain than he’s ever experience in his pathetic little life. 

 

He thinks all those beatings from that disgusting woman hurt? Wait ‘til it’s him, me, a ladder and my bloody spike buried somewhere between his bloody EYES.

 

[Ed laughs.]

 

Edward White:

There’s that killer instinct I pay you so handsomely for! Thank you for your candid honesty, Bronson. I appreciate that. But our lust for the violent end of Cancer Jiles and Tom Sawyer must wait for another day. What’s your opinion of our opponents in this weeks main event, my friend? Mr. Ryan ended up being a bit more of a handful than we’d expected.

 

Bronson Box:

I could have sworn Frank had that sot handled. Nearly broke the bastard in half at one point. His back will still be aching from some of that nonsense. There’s no way he’s back to one hundred percent after the last card.

 

Edward White: [holding his ribs]

Neither am I, sadly.

 

[Bronson nods.]

 

Bronson Box:

I’m sure we’ll find a way to even the odds. I’m figuring we do our best to isolate Ryan, get him to the outside. I vote we bring just one set of muscles. Maybe Nicky. Keep things simple. Even injured we’re more than a match for those two. Ryan’s ego will be inflated somethin’ fierce after that debacle on the last card.

 

Edward White:

He thinks he belongs here.

 

We need to show him he doesn't.

 

Bronson Box: [looking up at the brown bear]

He thinks he’s king of the forest now. Screaming like a banshee, clubbing Frank and hearin’ crowd chant his bloody name. I’ve got a blasted bullet with his name on it, is what I’ve got. Just like our friend over there died in a steaming pool of his own warm blood, Dan Ryan’s going to learn a hard lesson about survival of the fittest come the main event of Defiance 37.

 

[The same little house keeper from before clears her throat from over near the door.]

 

Edward White:

Blast it woman, what?! Can’t you see we’re piecing together a battle strategy?

 

[From behind the tiny little Hispanic woman and through the doorway we see Nicky Corozzo, Jane Katze, Virginia Quell and Frank Dylan James all emerge together... Frank and Nicky standing between Jane and Gin keeping the two feuding women apart. Neither looks all that pleased the other is here.]

 

Frank Dylan James:

Ah feel like ah’m at gal’dern Disneyland...

 

[Frank is dressed surprisingly well. For him at least in a pearl snap shirt, jeans and a battered pair of cowboy boots. Inversely Virginia is the picture of elegance in a flowing white dress.]

 

Virginia Quell:

Oh do behave Francis. We’re guests in Mr. White’s home. Such elegance deserve reverence and respect, my lovely.

 

[Nicky and Jane are both all business, dark colors and stern looks. Jane gives Bronson’s Red Queen a sideways glance that could melt through steel.]

 

Jane Katze: [quietly, pursed lips and clenched teeth]

Flighty little bitch...

 

[Gin blows a sarcastic kiss towards Jane causing the usually icy Katze to take an aggressive step towards Quell. Frank and Nicky step between the two women. Bronson and Ed have made their way over towards their compatriots. The Socialite takes Jane by the shoulder, moving her a few steps away.]

 

Edward White:

This ends. Do you understand me? This group has the potential to leave everyone in this promotion laying. You squabbling with Miss Quell at every turn is unacceptable. Your services will be terminated the next time I hear of you causing dissension in the ranks of this group. Clear?

 

[Jane nods apprehensively.]

 

[Bronson grabs Gin’s wrist and pulls her close.]

 

Bronson Box:

That goes double for you, lass.

 

[Gin tries to turn away but The Wargod grabs her by the chin, turning her face back towards his.]

 

Bronson Box:

You’ll lose more than a job with me, dear. You know that.

 

Edward White:

All four of you. The Moral Majority, my people, all of us. We work as one vicious unit or we don’t work at all. We’re surrounded by enemies. Weak and strong. From the ownership of this company all the way down to the damned security team we have daggers at out backs. Every time you all start bickering between yourselves we look WEAK.

 

Bronson Box:

And weakness isn’t something I personally abide.  Like the jewel this new group is named after we will be strong, we will be bathed in blood. And above we...

 

Edward White: [with a smile]

… will be very profitable.

 

[Ed glances at Jane on that point. If there’s one thing Jane Katze understands it’s the bottom line. With a sigh Ed White’s financial genius ass kicker walks over to Bronson’s Red Queen... ]

 

Jane Katze: [casting glances to all of The Moral Majority]

I don’t like you people. You’re odd and volatile. You’re a risk.

 

[Bronson’s lip curls, Frank crosses his arms, Gin scowls.]

 

Jane Katze:

But calculated risks usually have big payoffs. And if you’re all a risk Edward White is willing to take then so am I. Because I trust him more than any other man walking the planet. Seeing as your “companion” trusts him and he trusts me I hope you and I can find some way of working together. Some common ground.

 

Probably involving kicking the shit out of some people together for the men in our lives... sound good?

 

[Jane extends her hand.]

 

[The tension in the room is released. Gin slowly shakes Jane’s hand. After a few moments of awkward silence.]

 

Virginia Quell:

Well said, Jane dear. I do believe we might be able to find some... common ground after all.

 

[Another awkward silence.]

 

Virginia Quell:

That Heidi is a right cunt, isn’t she? Can we star with 'er?

 

[Jane nods... and maybe smiles? Can't really tell.]

 

[Ed claps his hands together with a big bearded grin..]

 

Edward White:

Well then! That’s all settled! I believe we have a late lunch waiting for us in the dining room in the southern wing of the estate. Does everyone like Moroccan food?

 

Frank Dylan James:

Moro-what now?

 

[Nicky pats Frank on the back.]

 

Nicky Corozzo:

Don’t worry, it’s big hunks of meat. You’ll do fine. I also had the kitchen stock a couple kegs of your brand. You’re covered big man.

 

[Frank guffaws and clomps out the door satisfied.]

 

Frank Dylan James:

I think I’maw like’kis place right fine, Boxer.

 

[Gin kisses her Wargod playfully on the cheek and skips after Frank and Nicky out of the room. Jane stops and shakes Bronson’s hand and follows the rest of the group out of the room.]

 

Bronson Box:

Her tune changed pretty quick. Bit high strung that one.

 

Edward White:

I don’t often threaten her job like that. She’d dead loyal, just has a bit of an ego is all. Your Virginia rubbed her the wrong way in that battle royal months ago. You know how women are, the arrogance of woman is a force of nature. Like that damned bear, am I right.

 

[Ed snorts derisively.] 

 

Bronson Box:

Yes and if they're not careful they might end up standing there next to him. Them, Sawyer, Ryan, Cancer, Python, Dane... the whole bloody lot of them just standing there silently growling forever.

 

[Ed laughs like some sort of mirror universe Santa Clause, clapping his friend on the back.]

 

Edward White: [grinning factitiously]

Useless, all of them. After we conquor this place we should crate the whole bunch of them up. Stick them in a warehouse. Somewhere cold and damp, what say? But we can talk more business after we get a meal in our bellies.

 

Shall we? 

 

Bronson Box: [with a grin]

Can we bring that bottle with us?

 

Edward White:

Indeed, my friend! Let us feast and drink to our enemies!

 

[The home grown monster of Defiance, the thing of nightmares smiles a big smile and walks shoulder and shoulder with the richest and most influential man this side of Eric Dane out of the room and out into a well lit hallway.]

 

 

 

[Lens flare.]

 

[Fade.]