Deep Friendly Goodness
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WEBISODE #1: DEEP FRIENDLY GOODNESS [1] WELCOME TO RPS FADE IN: TAGLINE: 2 HOURS UNTIL THE SHOW INT. WRESTLING ARENA. A split-screen shot shows the two main event stars arriving at the arena. DERRICK LA’BELL on the left, MARIANO FERNANDEZ on the right. The stark contrast between them is LA’BELL arrives like an MMA star with an entourage, dressed in quality sports brand, whereas FERNANDEZ arrives like a veteran wrestler. Solo, a bag over his back, dressed in civilian attire. They walk down their respective hallway poised as the central figure of their shot. People they pass turn their heads recognizing them almost immediately as celebrities. A subtle jazz background music is played while they walk down the hallways and enter their respective locker room. - In Fernandez’s room he drops off his bag and sits down. Over his shoulder, the shot reveals him to be on his phone and navigating Twitter. - In Derrick’s room, his entourage drops his bag, one individual begins answering a phone. La’Bell quick changes his standard black shirt to a shirt with the RPS logo on. DERRICK LA’BELL: How’s it look? One of Derrick’s entourage looks up from his phone. Immediately he half-smiles and nods slowly and approvingly. BEN HUANG: Makes you like the G.O.A.T, Beast. JAMES STOKES: And that’s free, Beast. Another member of the entourage adds. Charismatic, shorter than BEN. The camera follows La’Bell walking out of the room and THE BEAST walks over to the poster featuring himself and Mariano. He nods approvingly and copies his own expression in the poster. A short-haired, stout, security guard approaches Derrick from behind. His nametag is clipped to his front, right pocket reading DAN. SECURITY GUARD DAN: Hey. Sorry to bother you but do you mind if I get a quick selfie? DERRICK LA’BELL: Yeah. No problem. SECURITY GUARD DAN: Thanks. The wife and I are big fans of Union GP and it’s not every day you get to meet a two-time heavyweight champion. He holds out the phone and the pair smile for the selfie. After the photo’s done, Dan sends it to his partner. SECURITY GUARD DAN: I’m pulling for you tonight. DERRICK LA’BELL: I’ll do my best, Security Guard Dan. Mariano’s gonna be tough to beat, though. SECURITY GUARD DAN: No doubt. No doubt. Still. You the man. Derrick spots Dan holding up a black rubber band on his arm that features Derrick La’Bell’s own name written in red; to show his support for THE BEAST tonight. Dan takes his leave and Derrick lock eyes with a pile of muffins in a basket with a bow on. He walks over, figuring why not try one. Unwrapping the whole basket, Derrick fishes out a caramel one. He discards the paper holding the muffin, however while going for a bite the muffin explodes in his face. Derrick’s face has blobs of salted caramel sauce and crumbs of muffin in his hair. THE BEAST takes one look at the paper discarded to see a TROLL FACE on the bottom. A call sign of #DATROLLGUY. WHIP CUT TO: INT. WRESTLING ARENA – OTHER BACKSTAGE AREA A chilled, tanned, guy walks into the arena appearing to have just rolled out of bed. This is none other than TJS who is accompanied by a stylish blonde, someone who has put a lot of thought into her attire. SABRINA SMITH reacts to the pre-show prep with wonder. A stark contrast to TJS. SABRINA SMITH: This. Is. So. So. Sooooo. Spectacular, Teddy! A squeal comes from the blonde. Sabrina captures the moment with her cell-phone protected in a purple case. SABRINA SMITH: Selfie! TJS did not expect the sudden camera, yet still sabotages the photo with a stupid face. Sabrina sighs upon seeing his face next to hers. SABRINA SMITH: Teddy, Why? TJS shrugs, with a half-hearted effort in that. TJS: Dunno. Funny, I guess. SABRINA SMITH: Maybe…however, this is, well, my time backstage as a wrestler. What’s like the first thing you do? Teddy visibly changes his mind while trying to give the blonde Smith some advice. At that point, a tray of chicken fingers is carried by an RPS staff member. This gives TJS an idea. TJS: We get some chicken fingers. Always start with chicken fingers. TJS motivated by hunger while a confused Sabrina juggles whether that’s step one. SABRINA SMITH: I don’t know... carbs... TJS has already made a move towards the tray of food, and Sabrina follows him. WHIP CUT TO: INT. WRESTLING ARENA – MEDICAL OFFICE Entering the medical office is DR. JAKE while on the bed is NO HOMIE. Sat disgruntled, stoic and tearing the protective covering NO HOMIE: Why am I the only one on this roster who needs the pre-match check. DR. JAKE: First of all, Hello. Secondly, It wasn’t up to me. It was on the clipboard; “Ensure No Homie is fit to fight”. See? Dr. Jake flashes the clipboard for a nanosecond and smiles languorously. NO HOMIE: I know what this is. You are all worried about the pretty girl. Dr. Jake chuckles at the theory No Homie has concocted. [PREPARING THE OTOSCOPE[ DR. JAKE: No...no, we’re just doing a simple check. He then peers into No Homie’s ear and gasps. DR. JAKE: Well I’ll be damned. You’ve got wax in your ears. He sheepishly laughs and checks if No Homie finds it funny. He did not. DR. JAKE: Okay, everything seems normal in lefty. Lemme see if righty matches. NO HOMIE sighs, then begrudgingly dips his head the other way. Dr. Jake slides on his office chair to No Homie’s right to check. NO HOMIE: So this is where you declare me unfit to fight her. DR. JAKE: Nope. Dr. Jake removes the disposable top to his otoscope and disposes of them in the trash. DR. JAKE: Apart from some dirt behind the ear, you’re all good there. I will have to take your temperature. The Doc retrieves a thermometer from the desk and spins back to No Homie. DR. JAKE: Taste that one for me. I can’t remember if that’s the oral one or, you know. Said at a point when No Homie was inches away from putting it in his mouth. The look he gives Dr. Jake amuses the Doc. DR. JAKE: Kidding. Kidding. Relax, or you’ll mess up the reading. No Homie eventually puts the thermometer back in. Dr. Jake types a little on the computer until the thermometer beeps. The Doc slides over and has a look. DR. JAKE: Okay. Let’s have a looksie here. NO HOMIE: I feel fine. DR. JAKE: And good news is, you aren’t running a fever either. I’m happy to sign you off for Mr. Brooks as clear to compete. No Homie slides onto his feet and catches something in a paper bag. NO HOMIE: What’s this? DR. JAKE: That’s your prescription? NO HOMIE: You said I was fine. No Homie removes the square-ish item from the bag expecting a medication box, but it’s a block of soap. DR. JAKE: Don’t forget behind your ears. They are a mess. Dr. Jake concludes with a pursed lip smile, raised eyebrows, and a naïve attitude towards No Homie capabilities. WHIP CUT BACK TO: INT. WRESTLING ARENA – CATERING AREA In the catering area, SABRINA SMITH has quite a well-balanced plate on her own tray. She is fixing TJS’s plate to incorporate more vegetables. BEN HUANG, as seen earlier in the entourage, comes by with absolute intention on getting his boy Derrick some food. All things change for him and the wrestling pair as a huge tray of egg rolls come out. From behind the pile, Sabrina cannot be seen. The pile ascends to just below TJS and BEN’s eyes level. [STARING AT THE PILE HYPNOTIZED[ BEN HUANG: That’s a lot of egg rolls. [NODDING / STARING AT THE PILE HYPNOTIZED[ TJS: Oh yeah. Sabrina reminds them both she is there by clearing her throat. SABRINA SMITH: I already made you a plate, Teddy. Sabrina sliding the tray over breaks both guys’ fixation on the pile. TJ doesn’t share the same enthusiasm for his plate as he did for the egg rolls. [GRABBING A PLATE] BEN HUANG: More for me. TJS: Like you’d make a dent. [CHALLENGING TJS] BEN HUANG: Better than you’d make. TJS: You don’t want me to embarrass you. BEN HUANG: Yeah. Why don’t we have a little competition right here. Who can eat more? SABRINA SMITH: No. Teddy has a match right before mine. Sabrina slides Teddy’s plate in front of him. The voice of reason clears TJ’s head a little. TJS: True. BEN HUANG: I bet you couldn’t even eat three. TJS: Big mistake, stranger. It’s on. Get the dipping sauces. Teddy grabs the whole tray of egg rolls and walks it to the first available table. Ben slides several dozen sauce tubs in front of them both and sits down. Both men grab one each and count down. BEN HUANG: Count us in, Girl in Purple. It takes Sabrina a split-second to realize he meant her. She’s focused on her debut over this little competition. SABRINA SMITH: Me, no. I don’t want any part of this. Sabrina collects Teddy’s plate onto her tray and wonders out of catering.