CBWL 055

 CBWL Offices – Atlanta, Georgia

Cowboy and Jim Ross walked back into the office after lunch. Elena was already there, standing near the window with her arms crossed, looking like she’d been waiting for a while.

Cowboy Watts: “You’re here.”

Elena Ceaușescu: (cool, direct) “I got the call. I came.”

Jim Ross took his usual seat while Cowboy dropped into the chair behind his desk. He didn’t waste any time.

Cowboy Watts: “Alright. We need to talk about Conrad. That doctor’s gone off the fuckin’ rails.”

Jim Ross: “He admitted to cutting up that nurse in the hotel room. Harvested tissue from her for Wendy’s surgery and gave Sterling whatever organs he could use. Tony confirmed it. Said Butterbean did the actual killing after Conrad talked him into it.”

Elena didn’t look surprised. She just nodded once, like she was filing the information away.

Elena Ceaușescu: “I sent them to get Sterling out. I didn’t tell them to bring back a nurse or start cutting people apart. But I’m not surprised Conrad took it that far. He’s always been… efficient. Sometimes too efficient.”

Cowboy leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk.

Cowboy Watts: “Efficient? He cut a woman up in a hotel room and started handing out her organs like it was nothing. And now he’s talking about doing the same kind of shit to Wendy. This ain’t just about Sterling anymore. That doctor’s a fuckin’ problem.”

Jim Ross: “We need to figure out what we’re gonna do with him. He knows too much, and he’s clearly not stable. If we cut him loose, he could talk. If we keep him around, we’re protecting a man who’s already killed somebody and harvested her body.”

Elena stayed quiet for a moment, thinking.

Elena Ceaușescu: “Conrad is useful. But he’s also dangerous when he’s not kept on a short leash. If we’re going to keep him, he needs to understand that he doesn’t make decisions like that without approval. Especially not something this big.”

Cowboy let out a short, humorless laugh.

Cowboy Watts: “Approval? He didn’t even tell anybody what he was doing. He just did it. And now we got a dead nurse, a half-dead transport guy, and a doctor who thinks he can play god in a hotel room. This shit’s already out of control.”

He looked at Elena.

Cowboy Watts: “You started this when you sent them to that hospital. So what do you want to do about it?”

Elena met his stare without flinching.

Elena Ceaușescu: “We deal with it the same way we deal with everything else. We control the situation. We decide what happens to Conrad. And we make sure this doesn’t come back on us.”

Jim Ross looked between them, then spoke up.

Jim Ross: “We need to be careful. This isn’t something we can just brush off. If word gets out about what happened in that hotel room, it won’t just be the cops we have to worry about. It’ll be everything.”

The room went quiet for a moment as the weight of the situation settled in.

Elena didn’t look the least bit concerned. She stayed standing by the window, her posture straight and calm as she spoke.

Elena Ceaușescu: “Nobody is going to find out. I can promise you that.”

Cowboy raised an eyebrow.

Cowboy Watts: “That’s a pretty big promise to be making, considering what we’re talking about here.”

Elena turned to face them fully, her voice steady and cold.

Elena Ceaușescu: “I have people here. People who have been operating in this area for years. Old Securitate networks that never fully went away. They still answer to me. If there is even the slightest chance of something leaking — whether it’s from the hospital, the hotel, or anywhere else — it will be handled before it becomes a problem. Quietly. Permanently.”

Jim Ross studied her for a moment.

Jim Ross: “You’re saying you’ve got people on the ground here who can make things disappear?”

Elena Ceaușescu: “I’m saying I’ve had them here since before this promotion even existed. They know how to clean up messes. They know how to make people forget what they saw. And they know what happens if they fail me.”

She looked at Cowboy.

Elena Ceaușescu: “This is not the first time something like this has happened. And it will not be the last. But it will stay contained. I will make sure of it.”

Cowboy leaned back in his chair, still watching her carefully.

Cowboy Watts: “You’re that confident?”

Elena Ceaușescu: “I am. Because I don’t rely on hope or luck. I rely on control. And right now, I have it.”

She glanced between the two of them.

Elena Ceaușescu: “So stop worrying about who might find out. Worry about what we do next. Conrad is still useful. Sterling is still breathing. And we still have a show to run on Friday. The rest… I will handle.”

Jim Ross exchanged a look with Cowboy but didn’t argue. Elena’s certainty was hard to push back against.

Jim Ross: “Alright. Then what do you want to do about Conrad?”

Elena’s expression didn’t change.

Elena Ceaușescu: “We keep him close. For now. But we make it very clear that he does not make decisions like this again without my approval. If he becomes a problem… we deal with him the same way we deal with every other problem.”

Cowboy let out a slow breath and nodded once.

Cowboy Watts: “Fine. We’ll play it your way. For now.”

A few minutes later, the door opened again. Conrad Murray walked in, this time accompanied by Dr. Ted Eisenberg. Eisenberg was carrying a tablet and a folder of his own. The two men took seats across from Cowboy, Jim Ross, and Elena.

Conrad got straight to it.

Conrad Murray: “We’ve put together a full surgical plan for Wendy. Dr. Eisenberg will be handling the procedures. We wanted to go over everything with you before we move forward.”

Dr. Eisenberg opened his folder and pulled up images and notes on his tablet.

Dr. Ted Eisenberg: “Currently, Wendy is sitting at around 5’8” and approximately 220–230 pounds. She carries a lot of her weight in her midsection, hips, and thighs. She already has breast implants from previous work, but they’re sitting low and have lost shape over time. Her face has also started to show significant sagging and volume loss, especially around the jawline and cheeks. Her lips have been overfilled in the past and are starting to look uneven.”

He swiped through a few images.

Dr. Ted Eisenberg: “Our recommendation is to go aggressive across the board. We want to completely overhaul her look. Maximum breast augmentation — we’re talking 1200cc to 1500cc implants minimum. We can go bigger if you want that extreme, over-the-top stripper aesthetic. Same with the BBL. We’d harvest the fat we already have from the nurse and combine it with additional liposuction from her back, abdomen, and thighs to create an exaggerated hourglass figure. We’re aiming for a very pronounced, almost cartoonish silhouette.”

Conrad continued without missing a beat.

Conrad Murray: “On the face, we’re planning full facial rejuvenation. Deep plane facelift, neck lift, fat grafting to restore volume, and aggressive lip fillers. We want her lips significantly larger — bordering on ridiculous. We also want to do a rhinoplasty to refine her nose and give her a more ‘done’ look overall. The goal is to make her appear heavily modified. Over-enhanced. Almost parody-like.”

Dr. Eisenberg nodded.

Dr. Ted Eisenberg: “We’re not going for subtle. We’re going for maximum impact. She should look like someone who’s had a lot of work done — and is proud of it. Loud. Over-the-top. The kind of look that screams former stripper who made it onto television. That fits the direction you want for her character.”

Cowboy raised an eyebrow but stayed quiet for now, letting them finish.

Conrad Murray: “We also want to do some pre-emptive work while we have her under. Buccal fat removal to hollow out her cheeks even more, a brow lift, and possibly some additional body contouring. We’re not trying to make her look natural. We’re trying to make her look expensive, fake, and completely transformed. The kind of woman who walks into a room and immediately draws attention for all the wrong reasons.”

Dr. Eisenberg closed his tablet.

Dr. Ted Eisenberg: “Cost isn’t an issue, from what I’ve been told. So we can go as big and as extreme as you want. The only limit is how far you’re willing to push her look.”

The room was quiet for a moment as everyone processed the plan.

Elena was the first to speak.

Elena Ceaușescu: “I want her looking completely different by Sunday. No half-measures.”

Cowboy looked over at Jim Ross, then back at the two doctors.

Cowboy Watts: “…You two are really trying to turn her into a fuckin’ cartoon.”

Conrad Murray: “That’s the assignment.”

Elena reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. She tapped the screen a few times, then turned it around so everyone at the table could see.

Elena Ceaușescu: “This is what Sheri has authorized.”

On the screen was a heavily edited photo of Wendy. It looked like someone had taken an older picture of her and completely transformed it using heavy AI or Photoshop work. The result was extreme.

Wendy’s face had been completely redone — her cheeks were hollowed out, her jawline was sharp and defined, and her lips were massively inflated, almost comically large and glossy. Her nose was smaller and more refined, and her eyes looked wider and more alert. Her skin had a tight, almost plastic sheen to it.

The body was even more exaggerated. Her breasts were enormous — clearly well over 1500cc, sitting high and round on her chest in a way that looked almost unnatural. Her waist was cinched in dramatically, while her hips and ass were massively inflated, giving her an extreme hourglass shape that bordered on cartoonish. She was wearing a tight, low-cut dress that barely contained everything, the kind of outfit that screamed “former stripper trying to look classy.”

The overall look was loud, expensive, and overdone. She looked like someone who had spent a fortune trying to turn herself into a hyper-sexualized version of what she thought a TV personality should look like.

Dr. Ted Eisenberg leaned in slightly, studying the image.

Dr. Ted Eisenberg: “…This is aggressive. But doable.”

Conrad nodded, unfazed.

Conrad Murray: “This lines up with what we were already discussing. We can hit these proportions. Maybe even push them a little further if that’s what’s wanted.”

Cowboy stared at the photo for a long moment before speaking.

Cowboy Watts: “Jesus Christ. She’s gonna look like a fuckin’ blow-up doll.”

Jim Ross didn’t say anything at first. He just looked at the image, then at Elena.

Jim Ross: “Sheri signed off on this?”

Elena Ceaușescu: “She did. She wants Wendy to stand out. She wants her to look like money. Even if it’s obvious money.”

She set the phone down on the table so everyone could still see it.

Elena Ceaușescu: “This is the target. We go as close to this as possible. No holding back.”

Dr. Eisenberg nodded slowly.

Dr. Ted Eisenberg: “We can do it. It’ll be a lot of work in one session, but it’s possible. She’s going to look very different afterward.”

Cowboy leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face.

Cowboy Watts: “…This is gonna be a shitshow.”

Jim Ross shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with how deep the conversation about Wendy had gone. He cleared his throat and spoke up, trying to steer things forward.

Jim Ross: “Alright… I think we’ve covered Wendy enough for now. We’ve got the plan. We know what’s happening. Let’s move on.”

He glanced at Elena and the doctors briefly before continuing.

Jim Ross: “Last thing we need to talk about is Sterling. We still haven’t figured out what the hell we’re doing with him for Friday.”

Cowboy nodded, leaning back in his chair.

Cowboy Watts: “Yeah. We were waiting on Elena for that anyway.”

Elena looked over at Conrad.

Elena Ceaușescu: “Go ahead. Tell them what you told me earlier.”

Conrad adjusted his glasses and spoke in his usual calm, clinical tone.

Conrad Murray: “As I said before, Sterling is in no condition to drive on Friday under normal circumstances. However, if we aggressively medicate him — high-dose steroids, cortisol shots, and a combination of stimulants — we could potentially get him functional enough to drive the truck from point A to point B. It would be extremely risky. There’s a strong chance his body could give out during or shortly after. But if the priority is simply getting him behind the wheel for the show… it’s possible.”

Jim Ross looked at Cowboy.

Jim Ross: “That’s a hell of a gamble. If he collapses or worse while he’s driving that truck, we’re looking at a whole new set of problems.”

Cowboy stayed quiet for a moment, thinking it over.

Cowboy Watts: “We’ll have to make a call on it soon. Elena, what do you think?”

Elena looked at Conrad, then back at Cowboy.

Elena Ceaușescu: “I want him driving on Friday. Whatever it takes.”

Jim Ross stayed quiet for a moment after Elena spoke, then leaned forward slightly in his chair. His tone was calm, but there was a clear edge of frustration underneath it.

Jim Ross: “Look… I’m gonna be honest here. This whole idea of putting Sterling behind the wheel on Friday is bullshit. The man is in no condition to be driving anything. He should be in a hospital, or at the very least at home with his family, not out here risking his life so we can check a box on a show.”

He glanced at Elena, then at Cowboy.

Jim Ross: “But I also know how this works. I know there’s politics involved, and I know Elena’s already made it clear she wants him out there. So instead of just shutting it down completely, I’m willing to talk about a compromise.”

He looked around the table.

Jim Ross: “Would it really make that much of a difference if we waited until Sunday? The PPV? We could still have him show up, still give the appearance that he’s back and part of things, but we wouldn’t be rushing him out there on Friday when he’s clearly not ready. It gives him a couple more days to stabilize, and it gives us time to figure out how we’re actually gonna present this without it blowing up in our faces.”

Cowboy stayed quiet for a second, thinking it over.

Cowboy Watts: “You’re saying we bench him for the go-home show and bring him out at the PPV instead?”

Jim Ross: “I’m saying it might be the smarter play. We don’t lose much by waiting two more days, and we might actually keep the man alive in the process. I’m not trying to fight Elena on this, but I’m also not trying to kill the guy just to make a point on Friday.”

He looked at Elena.

Jim Ross: “What do you think?”

Conrad Murray: “From a medical standpoint, waiting until Sunday would be significantly safer. Sterling’s body is still under an enormous amount of stress. Even with aggressive medication, forcing him to drive on Friday carries a very high risk of collapse, organ failure, or worse. Two extra days would give us more time to stabilize him and reduce some of that immediate risk. It’s not ideal, but it’s better than Friday.”

Dr. Ted Eisenberg nodded in agreement.

Dr. Ted Eisenberg: “I have to agree. Even if we pump him full of steroids, cortisol, and stimulants like Conrad suggested, we’re still putting him in a very dangerous position. His system is already compromised. Adding the physical and mental stress of driving a truck on Friday is asking for trouble. Sunday gives us a slightly better window. Not much better, but better.”

Conrad continued, his tone remaining flat and clinical.

Conrad Murray: “That said… if the decision is made to go forward on Friday, it can be done. It just won’t be safe. We can keep him upright and moving with the right combination of drugs, but there’s no guarantee how long it will last or what kind of damage it will do to his body in the process. We’d essentially be running him on fumes and hoping he doesn’t crash — literally or figuratively.”

Dr. Eisenberg looked over at Cowboy and Jim Ross.

Dr. Ted Eisenberg: “If you want my honest medical opinion, I’d strongly recommend waiting until Sunday. But I also understand that sometimes these decisions aren’t made purely on medical advice.”

The room was quiet for a moment as everyone processed what the doctors had said.

Cowboy looked over at Elena.

Cowboy Watts: “Well? What do you think?”

Elena stayed quiet for a second, clearly thinking it over.

Jim Ross: “Let’s stop pretending here. We’re all sitting around acting like this is some kind of tough call, but the reality is simple — Sterling is in no condition to be driving anything. Not on Friday, not in two days, not even in two months. The man had major trauma, internal bleeding, spinal damage, and now he’s running on borrowed organs and whatever drugs we can pump into him. This isn’t smart. It’s reckless. And we’re all sitting here trying to find a way to justify it.”

Cowboy stayed quiet for a moment, then spoke up.

Cowboy Watts: “I hear what you’re saying, JR. I do. But I’m not ready to completely shut the door on it yet. Maybe there’s some kind of middle ground we can work with.”

Elena didn’t look interested in compromise.

Elena Ceaușescu: “Putting him on the show Friday gives us the chance to officially book his return. It sets up whatever we want to do with him moving forward. If we wait until Sunday, we lose that momentum.”

Jim Ross shook his head.

Jim Ross: “Sterling isn’t talent. He’s transport. He drives the truck. That’s it. Putting him on the show is gonna take the focus off the actual wrestlers and turn it into some kind of sideshow about whether or not he’s gonna make it through the night. That’s not what this business is supposed to be about.”

The room was quiet for a few seconds.

Then Cowboy suddenly sat up a little straighter, his expression shifting like something had just clicked in his head.

Cowboy Watts: “…Wait a second.”

He looked around the table, his eyes narrowing slightly as the idea started forming.

Cowboy Watts: “I think I got something.”

Cowboy leaned forward in his chair, the idea clearly forming as he spoke.

Cowboy Watts: “Here’s what we do. We use Sterling’s situation to build the Taylor vs Emma match for the PPV. We open the show cold with Mariska. She comes out, apologizes to the crowd for the second week in a row with no ring, says we all miss Sterling, and that we’re doing everything we can to get him back on his feet.”

He looked around the table.

Cowboy Watts: “Then Emma’s music hits. She comes out and cuts Mariska off. She says it’s Sterling’s fault they had to wrestle on that dry ice last week. She blames him for what happened to Hilary Duff — says if he had done his job and gotten the ring there on time, none of that shit would’ve happened. Then she tells Mariska that if there isn’t a ring at the PPV, she’s not performing. Simple as that.”

Jim Ross nodded slowly, already seeing where this was going.

Cowboy Watts: “Then Taylor’s music hits. She comes out and tells Emma she’s weak. Says she shouldn’t be disrespecting Sterling like that. She cuts a babyface promo about how it’s hard-working guys like Sterling that make this whole thing possible. She says Emma’s too weak to wrestle her and that her boobs ain’t big enough to step in the ring with her anyway.”

He smirked a little.

Cowboy Watts: “Emma fires back and says there isn’t even gonna be a ring. Mariska promises there will be one by Sunday. Emma doesn’t buy it. She says something like, ‘Yeah, sure. If there’s a ring on Sunday, then we’ll have a match.’”

Cowboy leaned back again.

Cowboy Watts: “Then later in the night, we show Emma sabotaging Sterling’s truck. Nothing too obvious at first — just her fucking with it enough to make it look like he’s not gonna be able to make it to the PPV. We plant the seed that Sterling might not even show up on Sunday.”

He looked at Elena and JR.

Cowboy Watts: “It builds heat on Emma, gives Taylor something to fight for, and keeps Sterling’s situation in play without actually putting him in the ring on Friday. We save the big return angle for the PPV.”

Jim Ross thought about it for a second, then gave a small nod.

Jim Ross: “It’s not bad. It gives us a reason to keep talking about Sterling without having to actually have him there on Friday. And it sets up the match for Sunday.”

Elena stayed quiet for a moment, then spoke.

Elena Ceaușescu: “It works. We can make Emma look like the one trying to keep Sterling from coming back. It fits the character we’re building for her.”

Cowboy looked around the table.

Cowboy Watts: “So? We doing it?”

Elena shook her head after Cowboy finished laying out the angle.

Elena Ceaușescu: “Visually, it’s not enough. The fans need to actually see how bad Sterling is. They need to see what Emma did to him. Talking about it isn’t going to cut it.”

She leaned forward slightly, her tone cold and direct.

Elena Ceaușescu: “We do the tire slashing like you said. But after Emma cuts the tires, we have her go backstage with chains and whatever else she ripped off the truck. She finds Nicki Minaj back there with Sterling.”

Elena looked around the table.

Elena Ceaușescu: “We show Nicki sitting next to him while he’s unconscious. She’s got her hand under the blanket, rubbing his cock, trying to ‘comfort’ him. Emma walks in, sees it, and loses it. She attacks Nicki with the chains and whatever else she took from the truck. We make it nasty. We make it look like Emma is completely unhinged and willing to go after anyone connected to Sterling.”

Jim Ross raised an eyebrow but stayed quiet for a moment, letting it sink in.

Cowboy Watts: “So we’re really doing the Nicki rubbing his dick angle?”

Elena Ceaușescu: “Yes. It shows how far gone Sterling is — that even Nicki feels like she has to do something that desperate just to try and reach him. And it gives Emma a reason to go completely off the rails. The fans will hate her even more when they see her attacking Nicki while Sterling is laid out like that.”

She looked at Cowboy.

Elena Ceaușescu: “This is what we need. Something visual. Something ugly. Not just promos and tire slashing. We need the audience to feel how bad things have gotten.”

Cowboy leaned back in his chair, thinking it over.

Cowboy Watts: “…It’s fucked up. But it’ll get heat.”

Jim Ross didn’t look thrilled, but he didn’t argue either.

Jim Ross: “If we’re gonna do it, we need to be careful with how we shoot it. We don’t need to go too far with the Nicki and Sterling stuff, but we do need to make it clear what’s happening.”

Elena nodded once.

Elena Ceaușescu: “We shoot it tastefully enough for TV, but obvious enough that nobody misses what she’s doing. That’s all we need.”

Elena looked around the table before speaking, her tone calm and matter-of-fact, like she was explaining something completely normal.

Elena Ceaușescu: “Back in Romania, it wasn’t uncommon for nurses to do things like this with coma patients. They would stimulate them — handjobs, sometimes more — to try and get the blood flowing again. To wake them up. It was seen as a last resort when nothing else was working. A way to try and bring someone back from the edge.”

She paused for a moment, then continued.

Elena Ceaușescu: “We can use that. We show Nicki doing this not because she’s some kind of whore, but because she’s desperate. Because Sterling is this broken, godlike figure right now. A man who’s given everything to this company and is now lying there half-dead because of what Emma did to him. The women on the roster feel sorry for him. They want him to come back. Nicki doing this… it shows how far gone he is. How even the women around him are willing to do whatever they can to try and reach him.”

Cowboy raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt.

Elena Ceaușescu: “And for the men watching at home? It sends a message. Even if you’re lying there flatlining, even if you’re in that state where you can’t defend yourself… there’s still a bitter, jealous bitch out there who might come after the woman trying to bring you back. Emma attacking Nicki while she’s doing that? It makes Emma look even more evil. It makes her look like she doesn’t even respect the idea of someone trying to save a man’s life.”

Jim Ross leaned back in his chair, processing it.

Jim Ross: “So we’re framing it like Nicki’s doing it out of desperation, not because she’s just horny or whatever.”

Elena Ceaușescu: “Exactly. She’s trying to save him. And Emma comes in and attacks her for it. It makes Emma look heartless. It makes her look like she’s willing to go after anyone connected to Sterling, even when he’s at his weakest.”

She looked at Cowboy.

Elena Ceaușescu: “This is how we make the fans truly hate her. Not just for what she did to Hilary. But for this. For going after someone who’s trying to bring Sterling back.”

Cowboy was quiet for a second, then gave a small nod.

Cowboy Watts: “…It’s fucked up. But it’ll work.”

Jim Ross leaned back in his chair and spoke up after a moment.

Jim Ross: “Alright, I think we’ve gone about as far as we can tonight. We’ve got a solid direction for Emma and Taylor, and we’ve got some ideas on how to handle Sterling and the Nicki situation. But we’re not gonna get everything figured out sitting here right now.”

He looked around at everyone.

Jim Ross: “Let’s wrap it up for tonight. We’ll all meet back at the arena tomorrow with the rest of the agents and do a proper booking meeting. This was a good start, but we need everybody in the room to really lock this stuff in.”

Cowboy nodded, clearly ready to call it for the night as well.

Cowboy Watts: “Yeah. We’ve got the bones of it. We can fill in the rest tomorrow.”

Jim Ross stood up and grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair.

Jim Ross: “Besides… there’s a Sooners game on. I’d like to actually catch some of it before it’s over.”

He looked at Elena and Conrad.

Jim Ross: “We’ll pick this back up in the morning. Get some rest.”

Elena gave a small nod, already mentally moving on to whatever she had planned for the rest of the night.

Elena Ceaușescu: “Fine. Tomorrow then.”

Conrad didn’t say anything, simply gathering his things before heading toward the door.