One of the many networked HD security cameras scattered about DEF’s headquarters flickers to life.

We’re upstairs in the executive wing of the Wrestle-Plex, just outside downtown NOLA. The office occupied by DEFIANCE’s building manager, bookkeeper and owner of her own management firm Katze & Associates… the one and only Ms. Jane Katze. The beautiful brunette with her flawless legs and too tight houndstooth miniskirt is the very picture of sultry professionalism. Music playing through her computer speakers, hair falling down from her loose bun, her eyes fixated on her desktop which is nearly overflowing with folders, documents and no less than two different smart phones.

A voice from her office doorway snaps her back to reality. A reality far less comfortable than the world of facts, figures and numerals she lives her work life immersed in.

Bronson Box:
Kelly seems to be keeping you busy, lass. Haven’t seen hide nor hair of ye’ in a tick.

The barrel chested Scotsman is immediately recognizable with the brown with grey pinstripes, his now trademark personally tailored three piece suit. Paired as always with a necktie of the deepest crimson. He’s still sporting a few very noticeable scrapes and bruises from his wild and well earned victory over Eugene Dewey in the no disqualification falls count anywhere main event of DEFCON’s epic night one showcase. Boxer remains standing in the doorframe as his business manager takes a moment to eye him up and down.

Jane Katze:
And after this I have to continue to sort of the epic disaster you left in Utah… or did you forget about that little investment. The one I stuck my neck out to make a reality. Your little school which was actually starting to turn a profit until your friend Eugene wrecked it…

Box immediately seems particularly bothered to be having this conversation. He produces a long annoyed sigh, leaning forward on the back of one of the chairs in front of Jane’s desk with a noticeable eyeroll. Katze catches the gesture, her face twisting up into a frown. She shakes her head and continues with her work.

Jane Katze:
Nevermind... like you give a damn. You stomped your feet, threw away a mountain of free money by not pressing charges against that emotionally unstable manchild Dewey. And like some sort of spoiled, petulant teenager you got Kelly to give you EXACTLY what you wanted. Your match. Congratulations on your BIG win, it was a real spect…

CRASH

The big plush leather and wood office chair is flipped sideways into one of the bookcases that line the office walls. Jane’s annoyed flippant attitude vanishes in a flash, she sits at attention behind her desk… her annoyance replaced with anger and fear because staring her down is quite possibly the most unstable, vicious man in all of DEFIANCE Wrestling.

And he’s heard enough.

Jane Katze:
So we’re back to this? You destroying things, me cleaning up the mess?

The Only DEFIANT remains silent, he takes a few very deliberate steps forward… slowly resting his knuckles on the edge of his managers glasstop desk and leaning forward as close as he can to her face without “crossing the line.”

Bronson Box:
I do… what I wanna’ do… when I wanna’ do it. That was the first fookin’ thing I said to you when you approached me years back after yer’ original meal ticket got locked up. Ye’ ‘aint gunna’ control me and ye’ ‘aint always gunna’ be happy with the paths I take. But they’re mine and I take ‘em for MY bloody reasons. And my reasons ‘aint always what might be considered most profitable. Least not to the likes o’ you. You’re droppin’ this. I never want to hear about that school or the money I lost ye’ ever again… if I do, there’ll be more’n a flipped chair and a busted shelf o’ office brikabrak. Clear?

Shaking with anger, Jane nods. Bronson stands upright and briskly walks back towards the door. He pauses and looks back over his shoulder.

Bronson Box:
I knew you were fumin’, lass. I came up here lookin’ to still the waters between you and me, get back to the business at hand… seems ‘at was a mistake on my part. And once again you’ve managed to lose the thread between you and me, s’far as our “relationship” goes. So with my patience worn thin I say simply this, sunshine. You sit there and make sure the sheeple have stacks of new Bronson Box t-shirts waiting for ‘em. You make sure my name stays where it belongs on the card, the opportunities due keep comin’ my way and my pay checks get cashed with their usual promptness... Other than that?

He delivers his last word on his way out of the room.

Bronson Box:
Ye’ can stay out of my fookin’ way.

The scene comes to a close on Jane Katze. Her face awash in emotions ranging from unnerved, to embarrassed... to downright furious.

The security feed is cut.

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