The scene opens up on what may be the EWC’s most notorious troublemakers; “Bad Ass” Matt Covey and Lawrence Mattox. They’re found sitting amongst what appears to be a waiting room of sorts. The luxury of the room doing nothing for their interest. Mattox is passing the time with random contents of “sexual nature” being thrown at the secretary, and Matt is carving several obscenities into an expensive oak desk. Bad Ass finally leaps to his feet and thumbs around with his knife.
Bad Ass: Why the fuck are we still out here? Who do they think they are to keep us?
Lawrence Mattox: Chill man. They’re probably fucking each other up the ass with rubber corporate dildos or something. And I know you don’t want to see that shit…
Bad Ass: All I’m sayin’ is that I don’t want to be called to some dip-shit meeting and kept waiting while they decide which orifice to stick their cocks in next!
Suddenly, a large door opens and a man of old age asks them inside. Bad Ass grunts and Lawrence straightens his shirt. The secretary breathes a sigh of relief, but it doesn’t last as “Bad Ass” sends his switchblade flying past her head, lodging itself in the wall. She screams as Matt laughs to himself. He then follows Mattox into the room, the door closing behind them. And they find themselves standing before a large marble table, where several more men are sitting. They are observed as wearing expensive suits of business origin and their faces do not give the look of relief in any form or manner. But this matters not to neither Mattox nor Covey who just stare amongst them all. One certain man with a familiar face unseats himself and greets them with a handshake each.
Kurtis Strife: Please gentlemen, have a seat.
Mattox seats himself I a leather-backed chair and props his feet rudely upon the desk, but Matt continues standing.
Bad Ass: Fine as I am.
Kurtis Strife: Okay… Look, as the head of the Extreme Sports corporate executive board, I have been asked to bring you here today to…”discuss”…your actions as of late within the EWC. Your performances on EWC television have been less than kind. Instead of wrestling matches, the two of you are badgering and beating your fellow wrestlers senseless…
Mattox: Senseless? Is that all? I coulda sworn that we beat the shit out of’em.
Kurtis Strife: That’s exactly what I’m talking about. The board disapproves of your motives in randomly assaulting “victims” for whatever reasons you may have.
Bad Ass: Who the hell said we needed a damn reason? Who says we aren’t doing it for fun, or because we like to hurt other people?
Kurtis Strife: That’s the entire point. The business is not profiting from your assaults and it’s not helping your co-workers! In fact, we are more of insisting that you stop the attacks immediately!
Mattox: Wow… That’s three really good points.
Bad Ass: Now let’s see how we can solve this. Number one: I don’t give a fuck… Number two: Mattox don’t give a flying fuck… And number three… What was number three?
Mattox: We don’t…
Bad Ass: That’s right. Number three: We still don’t give a fuck. Take your rules, take your fucking orders and you shove them so far up your ass that you feel them with every breath you take!
Mattox: Oh shit. Here we go…
Bad Ass: And don’t you ever drag us back in here again so you can order or demand any-fucking-thing. I DON’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOUR AUTHORITY, AND I WON’T FORGET ABOUT YOU DEMANDING ANYTHING NEXT TIME!!! I’d just as soon beat the shit out of every geriatric ass in this god forsaken fucking room, as I’d look at you! Now quit wasting my fucking time and let’s not do this again!
Bad Ass turns and starts for the door, Mattox getting to his feet and following him. But Strife is quick to get back to his feet and try and halt them, ever determined to get his point across.
Kurtis Strife: Now wait just a damn minute! You cannot possibly forget that you work for president David Dubose! With every assault on his person, you are being fined! With every verbal attack you come one step closer to getting fired! No one understands your agenda, and for God’s sake… No one can tell what side your even on anymore!
Bad Ass suddenly turns with a violent look of rage upon his face. He thrusts both fists, grabbing Strife by his collar and hoisting him into the air.
Bad Ass: We are on our own side! Fine me, I don’t care! Fire me, I’ll beat the shit out of you! We’ll do what we want, when we want to fucking do it, and if you so much as raise your voice towards myself or Mattox just once more, I’ll make you eat your own fucking shit that you keep throwing at us, and I’ll rip you a new ass hole in the process!
Kurtis Strife: But I…
Mattox: Now he’s done it.
Bad Ass screams in a fit of rage and throws Kurtis Strife across the room, he then leaps upon the table and dives off at Strife, swinging his fists wildly. Several more of the corporate executives begin to strand in defense, but stand in fear at the sight of Lawrence Mattox wielding the broken arm of the chair he’d been sitting in.
Mattox: Not so fast boys. This should be fun…
Bad Ass is busy throwing down on Strife, tossing him into the wall and punching him repeatedly. While behind him; Mattox is beating down several of the men, the wooden arm of the chair rising into the air after each blow, blood flinging from it with each wild swing. Matt soon drops Strife across the marble table and plants him on his face with a ferocious anger. Strife has passed out long ago and falls unconscious to the floor below as Matt turns his attention to several other men. They are but obstacles in the way of the Bad Ass and the Punk Ass. And with brute force and fifteen short minutes, they have redesigned the room to their liking… Blood and limp bodies lying scattered about everywhere.
Mattox: They had to go and push you didn’t they?
Bad Ass: Fucking morons! I swear…
The two of them march out of the room to where the secretary is found hiding under her desk, tears of fear streaming down her face. Matt grabs his knife out of the wall and closes it before pocketing it. The two men are quick to enter the elevator and do not speak much as they reach the ground floor of the Dubose Center. Thinking over what they had done and letting their adrenaline die down, the two hop into Mattox’s Dodge Viper pleased with themselves. Lawrence then turns to Matt.
Mattox: So do you have something like that planned for Allen Smith?
Bad Ass: What the hell? What does this have to do with Smith?
Mattox: Dude, you so have to defend your belt against him at Fury.
Bad Ass: I’ll be damned. So one of the bastards actually won the damn battle royal did they? Good. First Crusher breaks his spirit, and now I’ll break his fucking neck!
Mattox: That’s nice. Looks like you and Crusher should be set to go soon then?
Bad Ass: I’m counting down the days, Mattox. The days… Everything I’m doing; Everything we’re doing, is all for Harsh Winter. Where we’ll see who is the more violent asshole in the EWC. Now let’s get the hell outta this hellhole.
The car fires up as the two brutal men speed away with more devious intentions in mind.