**Scene begins on a late Friday afternoon. We're inside a large office building in downtown Detroit. The workd day is drawing to a close, as we see dozens of employees scurrying about, finishing up any last minute jobs that need doing, as well as making sure all reports and such are handed in to their secretary to be delivered to their bosses. The camera moves forward through a floor of this office building, as we see little cubicles throughout, occupied by men and women busy at work. At the far end of the floor we see a couple of offices, with those clear glass windows from ceiling to floor. One office has its blinds pulled shut, but the other office has its blinds open, allowing us a clear view inside. Sitting behind the desk is a man dressed in a business suit, his hair all slicked back like some kind of yuppy executive type. Across from him sits a relatively large man, dressed casually in a pair of blue draw string khakis and a grey tight sweater. The two seem to be in the middle of some kind of business discussion**

Mr. Shaw: "As I told you over the phone, there's really not too much I can do at this moment. Until Willy Beaumont actually breaches his contract, you have no recourse against him."

Black: "So lemme get this straight. I've been training all week, preparing for our match, all the while he's been spouting off about not showing up. If he doesn't show up, then all my plans have been ruined. The time, the effort, the money I've put in to winning this match, winning the International Action title, all down the drain, and you're telling me that until the Pay Per View, until he actually proves he won't show up, I can't do anything about it?"

Mr. Shaw: "I'm afraid so. Until Mr. Beaumont actually commits the act, in this case, not showing up for your match, you have no legal recourse, because the written and signed contract states that in order for there to be a breach of contract, the breach would have had to be made. Mr. Beaumont just talking about not showing up doesn't constitute fact."

**Black leans back in his chair, obviously a little frustrated. He shakes his head, then takes a deep breath**

Black: "But I thought the meaning of a contract is to make it clear to both participants what to expect when they get in that ring. How can I concentrate on a game plan if there's a strong possibility there won't even be a game?"

Mr. Shaw: "Sorry, Sebastian, but that's how it works. If Mr. Beaumont DOES fail to show up, then that's an entirely different story. Then you probably will have some kind of legal recourse."

Black: "Yeah well don't bet on that one. If that freak of nature doesn't show up, Cole and Spears will probably just strip him of his title and vacate the title until a new champion can be found. It's rare, if ever, to see someone just handed a belt upon forfeiture. So basically I'm screwed either way. Either I have a match against some moron who thinks it's more important to pretend to be Elvis than it is to defend his belt, or he no-shows and my match gets thrown out, resulting in me getting the shaft and having to wait another day for my shot at it. That's just f**king great."

Mr. Shaw: "Sorry, I don't know what else to tell you. I wish I could be more help."

Black: "Yeah, yeah, you got your hourly fee. Don't sweat it."

**Black stands up and walks toward the exit to Mr. Shaw's office. He makes his way toward the elevators at the opposite end of the office**

**Scene opens again outside the building, as Black makes his way toward his car parked on the street. As he gets closer, he notices something on his windshield. He reaches forward and snatches up the parking ticket from under his wiper**

Black: "Just great...what else can go wrong today."

**Just as he asks himself the rhetorical question, his cell phone rings from inside the car. He unlocks the door and reaches inside to grab the phone. He lifts it to his ear**

Black: "Hello?"

Black: "Oh hey, yeah I'm just coming out of my lawyer's office."

Black: "Nah, not good news at all. So what's up?"

Black: "You're kidding me...when was that shown on TV?"

Black: "Son of a..."

**An angry expression comes over Black's face. He takes a deep breath and grits his teeth before responding to whoever is on the other end**

Black: "I thought we were on the same page? What possessed him to say the things he said?"

Black: "He's gotta have some kind of alterior motive. I've known him for a long time, and he NEVER makes a statement like that one unless he's got something else in the works."

Black: "Yeah well I know, but we can't just take this lightly."

Black: "Ok, ok. Look, try and get in touch with him, or atleast try and get in touch with the old man. Let's just see where he's going with this."

Black: "Ok, I'll catch you later."

**Black tosses the phone onto the passenger seat of his car. He leans against the open side door's roof, resting his arm on the roof as he rubs his chin with his hand**

Black: "What's your game, old friend....something's going on in your head, and I don't like the looks of it, whatever it is."

**He slides into the driver's side and shuts the door. We hear the engine start, then the camera pans out as he pulls out into traffic and drives off down the street**

****Scene fades out****