The scene fades in to a large, over priced hotel suite. The floor, the walls, and probably the ceiling are all made of marble. There are several marble columns that are reminiscent of Greek architecture spotted throughout the suite. Standing over on the side of the suite, near the windows, is Jimmy Ringo. He is wearing a white suit over a pink t-shirt. His expensive Gucci sunglasses are hooked on to the front of his t-shirt as he looks out side of the hotel windows across the Las Vegas strip. In walks his assistant April Roundbottom; a long legged brunette in a business suit. Her heels are nearly half of a foot high and are as bright red matching her lipstick and square framed glasses. Her hair is up in a bun and she is holding a small piece of paper as she makes her way over toward Jimmy. She speaks up in an English accent.
AR: Excuse me, Money?
>JR: Jesus, bitch. Don’t you ever take a day off?
AR: You know sooner or later you’re going to have to speak to me with a bit more respect.
Jimmy stares up at her a small smirk squeezes it’s way out of his lips. He stares her up and down with his dark eyes and smirk turns in to a twisted looking grin.
JR: What respect do you deserve? You walk in to Money’s suite with an attitude like Money actually has to give a shit what you have to say. You’re nothing but an employee and if you don’t start giving Money some more respect then ya might ya fine English ass on the unemployment line.
A look of surprise rolls over April’s face.
JR: What? You got a problem with what Money said?
She stands there frozen for a moment before coming to her senses.
AR: I just wanted to let you know that Erik Staggs had sent over a note and your partner and first opponents have been announced for the “Blast From The Past” tournament.
Jimmy’s interest seems to peak as he quickly walks over to April and grabs the small piece of paper in her hand. He feverishly skims through it and the more he reads it the more his smirk fades in to a deep scowl.
JR: Is someone trying to play a joke on Money?
AR: What seems to be the problem?
Jimmy crumples up the small piece of paper and checks it back at April.
JR: I’ll tell you what the problem is. First Money had to drag that dead weight Mickey Carroll around through My Bloody Valentine and now he’s got to tag with Lizzie Short? Money is the Pinnacle Player. He is the reason people even show up to these shit shows in the first place. He should be tagged with Gothika or that fine piece of ass Mercedes…on second thought…why the f*** is Money even in this lousy tournament. He’s a main eventer not some tag team wrestler who’s there to make some bitch look good.
AR: We talked about this. We thought it would be good for your exposure to do these types of things. It’s like charity…
Any remnants of a smile are now completely gone from Jimmy’s face. He stares at April with a look of complete disgust and walks up to her in a threatening manner and gets right in her face.
JR: Don’t you ever mention that word in Money’s presence again. I hate that word. Money doesn’t spend money on anyone else but himself.
AR: Forget I said anything.
JR: I always do. Pour me a drink.
Jimmy smiles as he takes himself back over to where the window is and resumes his staring out on to the Las Vegas strip. April walks over to the small bar and pours a glass of Grey Goose Vodka and brings it over to Jimmy. She holds out to him and before she can even extend her arm out he snatches the drink out of her hand.
JR: Where was I?
AR: You were complaining about the “Blast From The Past” tournament pairing.
JR: Exactly. This poor Lizzie Short probably had to bribe and sleep her way around Erik Staggs just to get this pairing. It was probably her plan all along. Why wouldn’t she want to team with me? I am Jimmy “Real Money” Ringo and I am better than all of them!
AR: It was a random drawing, Money.
JR: So they say…Money knows a conspiracy when he sees one. But that’s not the only problem, bitch, not only does Money have to pair with this losing machine but he also has to get in the ring and go against some fake tittied nasty trash bag ho and someone Money’s never heard of.
AR: You’ve never heard of Simon Jones?
JR: Did Money stutter? Who is he? Another throw away like Connor Murphy or another loser like Ben Jordan? That would be great, just what I need, another useless Englishman.
AR: You do know that I’m English, right?
Ringo just stares at April for a moment with a blank stare on his face.
JR: People like them are exactly what’s wrong with the world today. Pretenders….phonies just like Ben Jordan. I’m sure this Simon is supposed to be some one right? Like a famous SCW Star or some one who is more accomplished than Money right?
AR: He’s a former Heavyweight Champion, Ji---I mean he’s a former Heavyweight Champion, Money.
The smirk comes back across Ringo’s face.
JR: Is this true? Now it all makes sense. The powers that be have seen my brilliance, never been pinned before, and now they are putting me in a number one contender’s match!
April gets a confused look on her face.
AR: I’m not exactly sure that’s what they meant to do…
Ringo waves her off.
JR: Please…like you know anything. You’re a woman! Money has been forced into a match with former Heavyweight Champion and a loser slut who looks like a man with long hair. There’s nothing worse than a country whore who walks around pretending to be a man who is pretending to be a woman. The whole thing sort of sickens me. And then there is that matter of her gigantic head. It looks like someone dropped a bowling on top of manly looking used chop sticks and called it a woman. Disgusting! And top of it…no brains….at least you are semi good looking.
AR: Umm…thanks…I think.
JR: Only one woman can catch the eye of Real Money…that is my beautiful Angelica.
AR: Right…
JR: And then there is this Simon…who is he again?
AR: He’s the former Heavyweight Champion who just retired Casey Williams at My Bloody Valentine.
Ringo’s eyes light up a bit.
JR: Of course! The skinny little limey who got his house burned to the ground. That was brilliant. Why didn’t Money think of that? The truth is…this match is beneath me. Money is better than his opponents and he’s certainly better than his partner. Little Simon Jones doesn’t stand a chance against someone like Money. I’m bigger, I’m stronger, I’m better looking, and I’m just plain better than him. In fact….I’m better than you too. Get the fuck outta here.
AR: Excuse me?
Jimmy throws back some of his vodka.
JR: You heard me bitch…
AR: But…
Ringo cuts her off.
JR: But nothing….Money’s got some ladies comin’ up in here and he don’t need ya fancy lookin’ ass hanging around. Beat it.
April storms out as Jimmy drinks his Vodka and looks out over the Sin City strip.
OOC: Sorry to Brandi and Simon and Lizzie…..struggling with this character….
