CBWL Offices – Atlanta, Georgia
Monday Night – June 15, 2026
Tony Soprano stepped out of the booking meeting and shut the door behind him. He stood in the hallway for a second, rolling his shoulders like he was shaking something off, then started walking toward the exit.
Butterbean was leaning against the car in the parking lot, finishing off a sandwich like he usually did when he was waiting. He looked up when Tony approached.
Butterbean: “We headin’ out?”
Tony opened the driver’s side door but didn’t get in right away. He looked across the roof of the car at Butterbean.
Tony Soprano: “Yeah. Got a job. Gotta go pick somebody up.”
Butterbean wiped his hands on his shirt.
Butterbean: “Who?”
Tony Soprano: “Wendy. The one who does the interviews. JR wanted to send Urkel, but fuck that. I’ll handle it.”
He paused, then added with a small shrug.
Tony Soprano: “Cowboy said not to bring you. Said we can’t keep payin’ for two tickets every time somebody’s gotta go somewhere.”
Butterbean didn’t say anything. He just waited.
Tony looked at him for a second, then made a decision.
Tony Soprano: “Get in anyway. I’ll pay for your ticket outta my own pocket. I ain’t leavin’ you sittin’ around here.”
Butterbean nodded and climbed into the passenger seat without another word. Tony got in behind the wheel, started the car, and pulled out of the parking lot.
For a while, neither of them spoke. Tony kept one hand on the wheel, eyes on the road, but his mind was already somewhere else. He was thinking about what they said in that meeting about Wendy. Late-stage dementia. She wasn’t gonna be around much longer. They were already talking like she was halfway out the door.
A small, private smirk pulled at the corner of Tony’s mouth.
He didn’t say anything out loud, but the thought was clear in his head.
Whoever they bring in to replace her… that spot’s gonna be open soon.
He glanced over at Butterbean for a second, then looked back at the road, the smirk still faintly there.
Tony Soprano: “We’ll be on a plane in a couple hours. Try not to fall asleep before we get to the airport.”
Butterbean just grunted in response, already halfway there.
Tony didn’t say anything else for the rest of the drive. He just kept that same small, satisfied look on his face, the kind he only got when he was already thinking three steps ahead of everybody else.
Tony Soprano and Butterbean landed in L.A. early that morning. They didn’t waste much time. After grabbing a rental car, they made their way to Wendy Williams’ apartment.
When they arrived, Tony took the lead. He was calm, almost friendly as Wendy’s agent let them inside. Wendy was sitting on the couch, looking tired and slightly out of it, but Tony didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he turned on the charm.
Tony Soprano: “Hey, how you doin’? Appreciate you making time for us. We know you’re a busy woman. CBWL’s been real happy with the work you’ve been doing. You’ve got that presence, you know? That star quality. People respond to you.”
Wendy gave a weak smile, clearly not fully present, but her agent seemed pleased by the flattery. Tony kept it going for a few more minutes, complimenting her “experience” and how she “brought something different” to the interviews, all while Butterbean stood silently by the door like a piece of furniture.
After a little while, Tony stood up and clapped his hands once.
Tony Soprano: “Alright, we should get going. Long flight back. We got a show to get ready for.”
Wendy slowly got to her feet. Her agent stood up as well, grabbing a small bag like he was about to follow them out.
Agent: “Alright, let me just grab my things and we can—”
Tony didn’t even look at him. He just put a hand on Wendy’s back and gently guided her toward the door.
Tony Soprano: “We got it from here.”
Wendy didn’t say anything. She just walked out with Tony. Butterbean stayed behind.
The second the door closed, Butterbean turned and looked at the agent. The man barely had time to react before Butterbean grabbed him by the collar and slammed him hard against the wall. The beating was short, ugly, and efficient. Butterbean didn’t say a word the entire time. He just worked him over — body shots, a few hard rights to the face, and one final knee to the ribs that dropped the agent to the floor.
Butterbean crouched down next to him, breathing steady.
Butterbean: (low and flat) “Tony wants you to fax over her contract. Today. She belongs to CBWL now. We’re done going back and forth to pick her up every time we need her. From now on, she travels with the crew. Ring gear and all. You got that?”
The agent groaned and nodded weakly, blood leaking from his mouth. Butterbean stood up, straightened his jacket, and walked out without another word.
Outside, Tony was already in the driver’s seat with Wendy in the passenger side. She looked confused but didn’t ask any questions. Butterbean climbed into the back without a word. Tony glanced at him in the rearview mirror, gave a small nod, and pulled off.
Flight back to Charlotte – Later That Night
Tony sat in first class with Wendy next to him. Butterbean was a few rows back. Wendy had fallen asleep not long after takeoff, her head resting against the window. Tony watched her for a moment, then pulled out his phone and started scrolling through his contacts.
A small, private smirk crept across his face as he stared at the screen.
He already had a few names in mind.
Names that could replace her.
Names that wouldn’t come with late-stage dementia and a limited shelf life.
He locked his phone and leaned back in his seat, still smirking faintly as the plane flew through the night toward Charlotte.
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