TIMESTAMP: 5:27 p.m.

LOCATION: DEFIANCE Promo Booth, Osaka

SITUATION: Fizzy

[So here's Frank Holiday: sitting hunched on a little stool in front of a giant DEFIANCE curtain, dressed in dark blue track pants and a black L.A. Lakers hoodie. To his right, a can of Coke tattooed in white kanji sits on a small round aluminum table, and in his hands is a plastic take-out tray of sushi. He's deftly slamming the colorful, tasty morsels into his hungry maw with chopsticks.]

[Okay, we get it -- he's still in Japan.]

Frank: [Masticating loudly] You know, Billy, this is almost as good as what they make at Safeway.

[Never said he was a connoisseur.]

Billy Pepper: [Off-camera] Jesus, Frank, we're gonna have to apologize to the whole country for that.

Frank: It was meant as a compliment! Safeway sushi kicks ass.

Billy: Anyway, enjoy it, buddy. You deserve it, after the way you blew everyone away in Saitama! Talk about making an impression!

[Having wolfed down every last piece of caterpillar roll, Frank pinches the little pink mound of pickled ginger between the tips of his chopsticks and pops it in his mouth, then chases it down with a long swig of Coke. Yeah, we're watching this guy eat. Riveting, huh? He wipes his lips with the back of his hand before setting the empty tray on the table.]

Frank: You know how they always say you should never meet your heroes, because they'll always disappoint you? Well, I found out the other side of that coin: You should go meet your enemies, so you can size up what nuclear douchenozzles they are.

Billy: Case in point: Chance Von Crank.

Frank: Damn right, dude. I always respected what the guy can do in the ring. Still do. In fact, I respect him even more now that I've actually tangled with him. But, man -- I'm telling ya, experiencing that asshole face to face made me want to kill in a way I haven't felt since Twilight.

Billy: Twilight?

Frank: You know, teenage vampires and shit. Horrible movie.

Billy: Oh, that Twilight.

Frank: What I'm saying is, I hated cVc so much that night, I had to beat him.

Billy: And you fuckin' did, Frank! Do you realize? I mean-- tell me you comprehend just how big that was! In three seconds, you defeated a former Southern Heritage Champion and got the attention of every major player in DEFIANCE. And now you're gonna be on everybody's watch list.

[A sudden look of panic crosses Frank's face.]

Frank: Oh shit. Watch list? Dude. Does Japan have an NSA too? Did you buy another iPhone? I told you Apple's in league with the Illuminati! Quick! Turn off your Wi-Fi!

Billy: Whoa, whoa, whoa, Frank, get a grip! You're not under surveillance! I just meant you're getting noticed as a contender in DEFIANCE.

Frank: What? Oh.

[He calms down and sits back, smiling.]

Frank: Fuckin' A, man. Can't complain about that. [Blinks thoughtfully] ...Could be chasing the SoHer Title one day, too, before long.

Billy: I'm sure you will. You've got what it takes, I always tell you that. But let's not get ahead of ourselves just yet. We're in Osaka, and you and Diego de Leon are about to team up for the first time for a head-on collision with Team HOSS. So go ahead: give 'em a piece of your mind.

Frank: Oh, with pleasure, dude.

[The North Hollywood native sits forward, elbows pinned to his knees, hands clasped, and furrows his eyebrows over half-lidded eyes. This is Frank Holiday Getting Serious For a Minute.]

Frank: Junior Keeling. Aleczander. Angel Trinidad. Capital Punishment. Formidable names on an imposing team. Don't think for one second that me and Diego are taking you lightly. Naw, far from it. Over the last few weeks you showed you are a threat and a force to be reckoned with in DEFIANCE. Ain't no denying it. But I assure you, Team HOSS, we are one hundred percent, laser-focused on you, and-- hold up.

[The Rocky theme is blasting from his pocket. He fishes out his cellphone and answers.]

Frank: Yo! Oh shit. I mean, hi Lexi!

[He rolls his eyes and pantomimes putting a gun to his head.]

Frank: What? I dunno. Why, what time is it where you are? Well, I don't know why you asked either. No! I haven't been to any sex hotels. I don't even know where to find one.

Billy: [Helpfully] I can find out for you.

Frank: Billy says he can find out-- no! That doesn't mean we're gonna go to one. Would you-- would-- Lexi-- L-- just stop, okay? That's out of line, yes, no-- don't talk about him that way, he's my best friend!

[Despite his overall look of severe physical pain, and his posture that is inexorably wilting toward the fetal position, Frank throws a thumbs-up at his off-camera comrade and mouths "Got your back."]

Billy: Hey, didn't she break up with you?

Frank: Oh yeah! [To phone] Didn't you break up with me? Oh, I dunno, maybe because you threatened to sue me? Oh, you were kidding. Stupid me. I don't know how I didn't pick up on that. Jesus. Look, I'm in the middle of a promo, so-- A promo. A wrestling promo. Yes, I'm still out here wrestling, thanks so much for asking.

Billy: [Loudly] Frank! Gotta get moving! Say goodbye!

Frank: Lexi, I gotta go, Billy's calling me. Because we're busy, okay? Yes-- yes-- no--

Billy: Frank! Hang! Up! Now!

Frank: I-- Yes-- Bye. [Pause] Love you too.

[The poor bastard slumps down in his stool and tips his head back, defeated, like a greenhorn boxer who's just spent a round getting his clock cleaned. Billy enters the eye of the camera for the first time -- sport jacket over T-shirt and blue jeans -- puts his hand on Frank's shoulder, and gently extracts the cellphone from his clawed fist. Billy wags the phone in front of Frank before sliding it into an inside pocket of his blazer.]

Billy: This stays with me till the end of the tour, okay buddy?

Frank: [Groans] Why did I say "Love you too"?

Billy: Because you're an idiot.

[He wanders out of shot once again. Frank claps his hands to his face and mutters inaudibly.]

Frank: ...She is sexy as hell though, right?

Billy: Oh, yeah. Sexy like a wolverine.

Frank: A sexy wolverine. Yeah. [Thinks] Shit, I can't stay mad at her.

[There's a distinctive face-palm sound from off-camera.]

Billy: Can we get back to business here?

[Frank gets himself sat upright, cricks his neck, and rubs his hands together eagerly.]

Frank: You got it, dude. Where were we?

Billy: You were one hundred percent, laser-focused on Team HOSS.

Frank: Yes!

[In an instant, Frank has returned to Serious Mode and is gazing fixedly into the camera lens.]

Frank: Let me tell you a little story, gentlemen. Back in my Hollywood days, I was working on this high-profile project. Big budget production, international box office type thing. Lotta money, lotta stakes. The executive producer was a total dick. Big guy, former quarterback, attitude up the ass. Dude had an entourage of basically street thugs who'd go around intimidating anyone who didn't play ball. I had a contract dispute and I was trying to negotiate in good faith, but this exec and his posse, they didn't like to listen, you know what I mean? Dude was used to talking and being obeyed. But I wasn't having it. I told him I was gonna walk if conditions didn't change. He didn't like that.

[Frank's frown deepens.]

Frank: One night there's a knock at my hotel room. I go to answer it and the door gets kicked in. It's this exec and two of his thugs, even more jacked up than him. They bum rush me, I'm fighting, but it's three one one and it's dark, and suddenly I'm on the balcony. Those two mutants shove me over the rail and I'm like dangling upside down, ten stories up, each of 'em holding one of my ankles. And this exec is furious, shouting he's gonna drop me if I don't settle this contract bullshit. And I'm--

Billy: [Sighs loudly] Frank.

Frank: --I'm-- what?

Billy: Okay, I'm, like, 99.99% sure that never happened to you. You're telling a Vanilla Ice story.

[Frank puts on an incredulous look and glares.]

Frank: Dude, there you go again. Why do you always have to shit all over my stories? Okay, so maybe it didn't happen to me. The point is, I know a thing or two about bullies. They come in all walks of life, they come in all shapes and sizes. And Team HOSS fits the mold like a fuckin' glove.

Billy: [Low voice] Mixed metaphors. Sorry.

Frank: I'm a pretty big guy. I'm pretty strong, did my time in the weight room. But these dudes -- Aleczander, Angel, Cappy -- these are a whole other breed. They're bigger'n me. Far stronger'n me. Bring Diego into it and he's giving up even more, physically, than I am. But we've got something the Agents of DOUCHE don't. The will to win.

Billy: Uh, I feel like HOSS likes to win too, Frank.

Frank: They do, but they take it for granted. Last week when Keeling and them managed to get me, you, and Diego kicked out of ringside, so they could gang up on Jimmie, that was them assuming the outcome and fucking everyone over to get there. They played us, and Aleczander pinned the Southern Sling. Didn't beat him -- just overwhelmed him and pinned him. Did it the easy way. But that's not gonna be the outcome here.

[He puts on a wry smile.]

Frank: See, this might be a tag team match -- Frank and Diego versus Angel and Cappy -- but we all know the whole team of HOSSes is gonna be out there. Thing is, the numbers game is all evened out now. We've got a little team of our own. And after all the horseshit we've been put through up to now, we've got the will to win. We're not just gonna pin Team HOSS. We're gonna beat Team HOSS. And I cannot wait to see the look on Junior Keeling's hipster face when we do!

[Frank Holiday leans forward and throws the devil's horns right into the camera. If you were watching in 3D you'd be shitting your pants right now.]

Frank: Holiday... OUT!

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