:::...It seems to be a reoccurring habit throughout my tenure in the CHZ. People just want to stay as far away from me as possible. Chazy, IRA, now Brian Hulin, quite pathetic. I see their way of thinking, the old don't work so bring in the new. Uh-uh, that's fell on its ass too. Maybe I should explain that the name Ritchie Danko has history and reputation attached to it, a reputation that a man like Brian Hulin is only too aware of. You see he knows what it's like when people stand face to face with the Malevolent Deity, he knows what kind of things can and do happen. It get's boring when I mention my history in the SCWF, I know that, but the fact of the matter is, it's what Brian Hulin knows and what Brian Hulin is ultimately scared of! You see Brian Hulin doesn't have his entire Hulin Clan to back up his no talent ass. Now he doesn't have his brother running the company, his cousin acting as judge, jury and executioner, his bought off friends doing his bidding at every turn.... in short Brian Hulin has signed himself into the biggest pile of shit he could ever contemplate. Looking back on the whole situation he will rue the day he ever messed with Danko and his Ego Trip. It may not be the SCWF, but it is a place to settle old scores and Hulin will be scored, scored out. It is not just Brian, but his whole mongrel family that's on trial tomorrow night, maybe it would have been an idea to look up the Chaos Zone roster before signing his name on the dotted line. Maybe using is miniscule brain for other than remembering what shoe goes on what foot would have got him out of the predicament which he now finds himself, but he does... he finds himself in a predicament which none too many envy. Ask Chazy, ask IRA, it's a matter of time before the trend sets itself another victim.

I stand alone and always have, I done things when I want, how I want and for one man..... ME! No one else, I don't make friends, I don't have buddies, and I like one man.... ME! So Sven if you even consider yourself unique in this world think again. I don't have time to think of petty little Scandinavian wannabes at this time in my juncture. Don't think yourself as special, think yourself as nothing more than a lucky young man. Yeah, I know the reason you think I took pity on you, you think I saved you from a beating. Wrong. Simply put I wanted to lay a beating, that's all you need to know. The ins and outs of the situation need not concern you, the whys and whens are none of your concern, simply let it be. Like I said you are a very, very lucky young man. If you turn the situation on its head, it could have been you that I ran to the ring to decimate, poor old you. Your appearance bonus for this week would have been dead and buried, as would the remainder of your confidence. So settle down, drink your cocoa and put it to bed. You ain't special, you never have been...:::

:::... The door swings open and clatters against the wall. The stopper at the wall has long since disappeared and now the handle seems to prefer battering against the wall instead, hence the hole. Well you don't get much for $10, as the room proves. A simple, brick hard double bed takes up the majority of the room, the bed-covers don't look they've been changed since Carter was in office and to be honest they smell a bit funky too. The pine looking furniture could have been bought from a place that makes K-Mart seem like Chippendales, the window looks over the Interstate and the air conditioner buzzes constantly whether on or off. All in all it's a Ritchie Danko kind of room. That explains why he's just come in the door. A heavy, beaten Old Dutch army jacket hangs formlessly off his body, the hood hanging down between his shoulder blades, an old black 'Got Ego?' T can be seen under it. A pair of well worn denim jeans and heavy worker boots completes his 'tramp' look. A gray line of smoke floats into the air from his hand rolled cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth.

Walking into the room Ritchie throws a generic green shopping bag onto the bed with a 'clunk'. Looking around his left eye half closes in a sort of thinking way, if that's possible, but then he lets it go and dumps his jacket on top of the suitcase which lays open on the floor. Raking inside the carrier bag, dragging out a small bottle of cheap beer Ritchie cracks it open, between his hand and the top of the beside table sending the bottle top spinning into the air. A swing and a refreshing 'aaaaahhhhh' later and a smile appears across his face and he settles on the bed. The bathroom door swings open and Holly appears only in a white linen towel, her blonde hair combed back and with the ancient dial phone in hand. Placing back on the bedside table she smile at Ritchie and reaches over to him. Grabbing the butt of the cigarette from his mouth and planting it in the shell ashtray...:::

Ritchie Danko:::... Hey, I was smoking that!

Holly Danko:::... 'Was' being the operative word. Anyway, guess who I was just talking to.

Ritchie Danko:::... Do I have to? I mean it could take a long time.

Holly Danko:::... Oh, ha ha. I'm sure if I wasn't wearing this girdle my sides would surely split. Alicia.

Ritchie Danko:::... Alicia? Should I know that name?

Holly Danko:::... Alicia, my cousin, small, dark. You know who I'm talking about, the one who's married to the loser.

Ritchie Danko:::... Look Hol, you've more cousins than the fucking Walton’s. As for 'losers', if I remember correctly, I'm classed as a fucking loser if it came down to your sister.

Holly Danko:::... But she doesn't know her ass from her elbow.

Ritchie Danko:::... True, true.

:::... Ritchie takes another glug from the small beer bottle...:::

Holly Danko:::... You do know her, you met her at my cousin Annabelle's 25th birthday party.

Ritchie Danko:::... Annabelle?! She sounds like a fucking cow!

Holly Danko:::... Don't be mean, she's a nice girl.

Ritchie Danko:::... Get a grip Hol.

Holly Danko:::... Anyway, you know Alicia. Her and her husband just split up and......

Ritchie Danko:::... Don't even fucking say it Hol.

Holly Danko:::... But Ritchie, she's broken up and her with kidney dialysis, although she is looking for a transplant soon.

Ritchie Danko:::... Jesus fucking Christ!

:::... Ritchie almost chokes on his beer, but regains himself and takes another swig just to make sure...:::

Holly Danko:::... What?

Ritchie Danko:::... Why didn't you say that?

Holly Danko:::... Say what?

Ritchie Danko:::... She was on fucking dialysis. Of course I remember her.

Holly Danko:::... Then you'll let her.....

Ritchie Danko:::... She was one of the biggest sluts I've ever met. Sure she looks all sweet and innocent, but she was trying to pull the fucking clown at that cousin of yours' party while her husband could barely walk in the garden. I mean who the fuck try’s it on with a bastarding clown? In full fucking make up?!

Holly Danko:::... She was in an unhappy marriage.

Ritchie Danko:::... And the clown was going to put some fun back into it? Holy crap.

Holly Danko:::... Come on Ritchie for me. She'll need support after her transplant, if her body rejects the organ.

Ritchie Danko:::... Her body hasn't rejected an organ in about 15 fucking years!

Holly Danko:::... That's nasty.

Ritchie Danko:::... Too fucking true it is.

:::... Ritchie takes the last swing from the bottle and slams it down on the table before taking a hand rolled cigarette from the pocket of the jacket on the bed. Lighting it up a mellow smile comes across his face before he turns all serious again and looks at Holly...:::

Ritchie Danko:::... Ok, ok. Just one week though, coz you know how much I fucking hate sluts.

Holly Danko:::... You hate fucking everybody.

Ritchie Danko:::... On the contrary. I love fucking you!