{Author and Eugene look over the card for Critical Conditions, and scratch their head. What looked to be a perfect plan, a path down "Easy Street," has turned in to a disaster. After capturing the tag titles using suspect tactics, High Class has been targeted. PCT cleanly defeated them a week ago, and recently, they took part in a pier 6 brawl. If things could get any worse, it seems High Class is not liked in the locker room. Author and Eugene swallow the huge lump in their throats, as a few passing wrestlers snicker. The scene opens up backstage, as Author and Eugene slowly walk down the hallway,talking}

EUGENE:"You idiot! We're High Class, Elegant, we look down upon at the filth of society. And here we are, wrestling them! Author, you PROMISED me, you assured me we wouldn't injure our beautiful faces, look at ME!"

{Eugene points to the black eye with has begun to swell}

EUGENE:"We have peasants from Canada whipping our tails! Canada!? Bacon! Geese! Ice Fishing! If this was Wall Street we would be outsmarting these knumbskulls, demonstraitng the ruthless tactics which have made us famous on the 'Market. Retirement? I'm going to retire without any of my teeth...."

AUTHOR:"How was I supposed to know? Obviously, everyone in this federation is complete peons. We outsmarted them once, why can't we do it again? Eugene, do NOT forget the fact that we're better than everyone here. These...things are the dregs of society-the orphans,the criminals, the hicks...The Canadians! Ok, so the last few shows have backfired, ok, I admit it. We allowed these things to have their little fun, now it's our turn. On Friday we walk in to Colorado, we take care of business, and by Saturday morning we'll be relaxing on the deck of our home in the Hamptons. We give that Stephanie a call, you know that farmer's daughter slut with Suicide, show her how REAL CLASS handles women while drinking martinis-Shaken, not stirred. HAHAHAHA!"

EUGENE:"Are you kidding!? It's bad enough {whisper} two peons were whipping on us, now we got 6 peons! Author, in case you didn't notice, they're going after us. I don't know about you, but I think we should just high-tail it out of here. Cut our losses, reclaim our jobs back on Wall Street, and forget this wrestling nonsense."

AUTHOR:"You know Eugene, you may be right. We're obviously not wrestling aficianados. It may be best to just leave. I'll give President Swift a call."

{Author walks in to their personal locker room, and grabs his cell phone. Before he dials, he presses a button, and listens...Author's jaw drops. His eyes wide open, he drops the phone on the floor,his body motionless. His face becomes very pale, as he falls over}

*10 minutes later*

{Eugene, tired of waiting, walks down the hall to high Class' locker room. He finds Author, unconscious, and screams for help. He picks up the cell phone, and listens for a dial tone. Instead he hears somethibng more life-threatening}

OTHER LINE:"Mr. Wellington,Mr. Morris, I am sorry to inform you-"

{TWW security rushes in with some paramedics}

{Eugene listens to the rest of the message. The phone rolls off his finger tips, and drops to the floor. A cold sweat comes over Eugene, as he drops to the floor....}


PART 2 TOMORROW