[A scene opens Masta Red sitting in a skybox at a Atlanta Braves baseball game. Next to him is Mark Smith who is munching on some popcorn and drinking a large cola. He cheers as Andrew Jones sends his second homerun over the fence and wastes his drink all over the carpet.]
Mark Smith: Awh FUCK!
Masta Red: Chill out if can be cleaned.
Mark Smith: I don't care if it can be cleaned that drink costed me eight fuckin bucks. What a complete waste of my paycheck.
Masta Red: Calm down dude. Atleast you are not hounded by a lot of biatches trying to beat you. I mean come on.
Mark Smith: That is true man. I don't know what is going on with you and the roster of IW. No one seems to like you.
Masta Red: What are you talking about. That little biatch Sin wants to lick my balls already. I mean damn. I thought I made it perfectly clear I didn't want a tag team partner or anything like that here in IW.
Mark Smith: Maybe he missed that part.
Masta Red: I guess he did. Then I have Tommy Twinkletoes actually doing an interview for our match. What is this guy problem. I could have beaten him nice and easy. No blood, no sweat, but no this idiot had to reply.
Mark Smith: I told you there was some stiff competition out here Masta Red.
Masta Red: Whatever this guy is a fugin buster. I knew that if he did come back at me he would put up some bullshit about how he is the greatest and this and that. Well reality is about to slap the holy shznit out of this guy tonight when he steps into the ring with me tonight.
Mark Smith: I have some faith in him Masta Red. He might not be able to beat you. However, I am sure that he can beat Deadmarsh or Draven or someone like that.
Masta Red: He probably could but like you said, he doesn't come close to me. He is merely another hoe trying to get on my nuts. He will be beaten into a little piece of shznit very soon. I can't believe that little hoe thinks he is going to beat me.
Mark Smith: No one thinks that they are a jobber Masta Red. You are the only one that thinks that they are jobbers.
Masta Red: Hell this guy is. He says he was going to interfere with Sin's and Draven match. If that idiot saw, I was going after Draven. I give a shznit about Sin. This guy is a joke and I am tired of wasting my breath on him. Mark, I hope you check insurance on your wrestlers before they come here.
Mark Smith: Why?
Masta Red: Cause he is going to need some serious surgery and reconstruction on his face when I am done pummeling him. Tommy, your very large ego has put a bubble around your head and you are not capable of picking up alot of stuff. So I will spell it out to you.
[Mark Smith begins to laugh as a janitor comes up to Mark Smith and Mark begins to talk.]
Mark Smith: Hey could you clean that up for me? I didn't mean to waste it. It was an accident.
Janitor: [mumbles.]
Mark Smith: What was that.
[The janitor mumbles some more and he cleans up the drink that has made a little puddle on the carpet and it seeping through slowly.]
Mark Smith: Hey dude you should answer me when I am talking to you. I am paying your salary today.
Janitor: Muthafucka! I said kiss my ass.
[The janitor lunges at Mark Smith and jumps on top of him sending popcorn flying all over the room. Masta Red gets some popcorn on his shirt and some of it hits him in the face. Masta Red quickly grabs the janitor and throws him off Mark Smith.]
Masta Red: Damn Mark! What the f*ck did you do to him?
Mark Smith: That asshole just snapped. Security!
Janitor: Security can't help you know hoe.
[The janitor whips out a small box cutter and begins slicing it in the direction of Mark Smith. Mark ducks out of the way and begins to holler like a little girl as he begins to run around the room with the janitor hot on his heels.]
Mark Smith: SHIT! HELP ME, HELP ME! MASTA HELP ME!
[Masta Red begins to laugh a little be sees that Mark is in danger of losing his life. He pushes the janitor as he runs past him and the janitor runs smack into the wall cutting himself with the boxcutter.]
Masta Red: Eww, blood. Poor guy. I hope that is only a flesh wound and didn't penetrate a blood vessel or anything.
[Suddenly a fat man with a white powder donut in his hand and white powder on his face runs in with his gun turned the wrong direction.]
Security Guard: FREEZE! I bet it was that black boy right there. Get on the ground boy.
Masta Red: What the f*ck? You can kiss my ass hoe. I didn't do anything.
Security Guard: GET ON THE GROUND BOY!
Masta Red: Boy? Muthaf*ck you hoe. You can like my ass.
Security Guard: Don't make me call for reinforcements.
Mark Smith: Uhh sir.
Security Guard: What?!
Mark Smith: The janitor is the one that attacked me.
Security Guard: What?
Mark Smith: The janitor. He was the one that attacked me not the black man.
Security Guard: You got lucky this time boy. I got my eye on you.
Masta Red: Yeah sure.
Security Guard: Come on here Ed. I told you about trying to attack everyone.
[The security guard picks up the janitor and carries him out of the room. Mark Smith and Masta Red sits back down in their chairs and look out the window to see that the game is over and everyone is going home.]
Masta Red: Damn Smith, messing around with you made me miss the rest of the game.
Mark Smith: So what. They blew them out anyways.
Masta Red: Yeah sure.
Mark Smith: Man I am ready for tonight.
Masta Red: Me too.
Mark Smith: Oh I forgot to ask you about Christian are you even thinking about him at all.
Masta Red: At the moment no. I will worry about him if he gets past Sin.
Mark Smith: Tommy Tremonti and you tonight. Final thoughts.
Masta Red: Tommy Twinkletoes is good as beat tonight. He is a complete waste of time and effort. I should have had a harder challenge than him for me going to be in the running for a title. I mean come on.
Mark Smith: Okay, one more time how do you feel about you and Sin tagging. That would be the elite tag team here in IW.
Masta Red: F*ck a Sin. Well no, I take that back. Sin, if you beat Christian today. I will get new respect for you until then, I have no respect for you at the moment. You are a smart man Sin. You have seen the light already and that light can lead you into the right direction. It just depends if you are really talented enough to be a partner of mine. We will see.
Mark Smith: Good. Let's leave. We are going to be here forever now. I beat the traffic is backed up for miles.
Masta Red: Yeah it probably is.
[The scene fades with Mark Smith and Masta Red picks up random stuff off the floor like flyers and hats.]
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