CBWL 044

CBWL Offices – Atlanta, Georgia

Monday Morning – June 15, 2026

Cowboy Watts sat behind his desk with a cigarette burning in the ashtray, even though he wasn’t supposed to be smoking in the building. Jim Ross sat across from him, a folder and a legal pad in his lap. The two of them had been going over last Friday’s show in Duluth for the last twenty minutes.

Cowboy rubbed his face with one hand and exhaled slowly.

Cowboy Watts: “I still can’t believe that shit with Emma. She wins the match clean, then decides she’s gonna keep going like it’s a goddamn street fight. Hilary’s in the hospital with burns on her ass and back, and now we’ve got half the locker room either pissed off or confused about what the hell we’re doing.”

He tapped the ash off his cigarette into a paper cup.

Cowboy Watts: “I’ve already had three different people come to me this morning asking what the plan is with Emma. Some of them think we should fine her or suspend her. Others are saying we should lean into it. I don’t even know what the right move is yet.”

Jim Ross nodded slowly, flipping through a couple of pages on his pad.

Jim Ross: “I’ve been hearing the same thing. There’s a split in the back. Some of the agents think she crossed a line by continuing after the bell, especially since Hilary wasn’t expecting it. Others are saying that if we punish her too hard, we kill whatever momentum she might’ve gained from looking aggressive.”

Cowboy leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling for a second before speaking again.

Cowboy Watts: “And then there’s the bathroom match. I’ve already had two of the janitors complain about having to clean that stall up. And the medical staff said Boxxy smelled like shit when they checked on her. Literally. We’ve got people in the back pissed off about the rib, we’ve got Hilary laid up, and we’ve got a main event that went completely off the rails. This is turning into a goddamn mess.”

He looked over at JR.

Cowboy Watts: “What’s your read on it? Be straight with me.”

Jim Ross took a moment before answering.

Jim Ross: “I think we’ve got two separate problems. One is Emma going into business for herself. That’s a control issue. If we let that slide without any kind of response, it tells the rest of the roster that they can do whatever they want once the bell rings. That’s dangerous.”

He paused, then continued.

Jim Ross: “The other problem is that we’ve got too many moving parts and not enough structure. The bathroom rib shouldn’t have happened without somebody catching it. The main event shouldn’t have been allowed to spiral like that. We need to tighten things up before we run the go-home show in Charlotte.”

Cowboy nodded slowly, taking another drag off his cigarette.

Cowboy Watts: “Charlotte… yeah. Bojangles Coliseum this Friday. We need to figure out what the hell we’re doing with that show, and fast. We can’t afford another night like last Friday.”

He looked across the desk at JR.

Cowboy Watts: “So what do you think we do first?”

Jim Ross leaned back slightly in his chair, tapping his pen against the legal pad in his lap.

Jim Ross: “Look, I’m not saying what happened in that bathroom match was good. But let’s be honest — it’s the boys doing what the boys do. Ribs like that have been happening since before either of us got in this business. It was nasty, yeah, but I don’t think it’s worth burning the whole place down over. We can say we’re gonna handle it, and we probably should talk to the refs about keeping that kind of shit to themselves going forward… but in the big picture? Who really cares? Except for Boxxy, I guess.”

Cowboy let out a short, dry laugh and shook his head.

Cowboy Watts: “Yeah… I figured you’d say something like that. I ain’t losing sleep over it either. We’ll make some noise about it so people think we’re doing something, but I ain’t about to turn it into a federal case. We got bigger shit to deal with.”

He took a drag off his cigarette and exhaled through his nose.

Cowboy Watts: “Speaking of bigger shit… I’ve been thinking about Emma.”

Jim Ross nodded, already knowing where this was going.

Jim Ross: “I figured. I’ve been thinking about her too. The way she kept going after the bell… it wasn’t what we called, and it wasn’t smart. But at the same time…” He paused for a second, choosing his words carefully. “There might be something there. She looked mean. She looked like she didn’t give a fuck. That’s not the Emma we’ve been trying to push, but maybe that’s the version of her we should be using.”

Cowboy nodded slowly, staring at the desk.

Cowboy Watts: “I’ve been thinking the same thing. She looked like a badass out there once she decided to stop playing nice. People reacted to it. Not all of it was good, but they reacted. The problem is, she went about it the wrong way. She can’t just do whatever the fuck she wants after the bell and expect us to be okay with it.”

He leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk.

Cowboy Watts: “I think we need to sit down and talk to her. Feel her out. Find out what the hell was going through her head when she decided to keep going. Was she just caught up in the moment? Was she trying to make a statement? Or was she just being selfish? We need to set her straight on a few things, but at the same time… maybe we can work with this. Turn her into something different. A badass babyface instead of the polite, technical one we’ve been trying to do.”

Jim Ross nodded again, more thoughtfully this time.

Jim Ross: “I agree. We should talk to her before we make any big decisions. See where her head’s at. If she’s willing to work with us instead of just doing her own thing, then maybe we can build something. But if she’s gonna keep going rogue every time she doesn’t like how something plays out, then we’ve got a bigger problem on our hands.”

Cowboy took another drag off his cigarette and flicked the ash into the cup.

Cowboy Watts: “Yeah. We’ll bring her in. Soon. I wanna hear what she has to say for herself before we decide how we’re gonna play this.”

He looked across the desk at JR.

Cowboy Watts: “Anything else we need to hit before we start talking about Charlotte?”

Jim Ross glanced down at his notes before speaking again.

Jim Ross: “I was thinking we should bring Emma in on Wednesday. Have Arnold Palmer go pick her up and bring her to the office. We can sit down with her then and feel her out. See where her head’s at and why she did what she did. No point in dragging it out.”

Cowboy nodded slowly.

Cowboy Watts: “Wednesday works. Gives us a couple days to cool off and figure out what we actually wanna say to her. Alright. Have Arnold handle it.”

Jim Ross closed his folder and stood up, stretching his back.

Jim Ross: “Sounds good. In the meantime, I’m gonna head over to Shake Shack before the booking meeting tonight. I’m starving.”

Cowboy gave a short nod as JR gathered his things. Before he walked out, Jim Ross turned back toward the desk.

Jim Ross: “Speaking of tonight — here’s who’s supposed to be at the booking meeting: Me, you, Joan Rivers, Sarah Palin, Tony Soprano, Bill Parcells, Conrad Murray, Arnold Palmer, and Elena Ceaușescu.”

Cowboy grabbed a pen and started writing the names down on a legal pad, making a couple of quick notes next to a few of them.

Cowboy Watts: “Alright… so that’s me, you, Joan, Sarah, Tony, Bill, Conrad, Arnold, and Elena.” He tapped the pen against the paper. “We need everybody there tonight. No excuses. Especially with everything that happened on Friday. I want all of them in the room so we can go over Charlotte and figure out what the hell we’re doing moving forward.”

Jim Ross gave a small nod.

Jim Ross: “I’ll make sure everyone knows it’s mandatory. See you tonight.”

Cowboy leaned back in his chair as JR walked out, staring down at the list of names on his pad. He circled a couple of them and muttered under his breath before reaching for his cigarette again.