Bojangles Coliseum – Charlotte, North Carolina
Friday Night – Go-Home Show Live on CBWL
The lights in the arena cut to black.
A single spotlight hits the center of the empty plywood platform where the ring should be. The crowd is already buzzing — some confused, some already chanting “We Want A Ring!” — when Mariska Hargitay’s music hits.
She steps out from the tunnel wearing a sleek, form-fitting purple strapless dress, her hair down, looking every bit the authoritative figure she’s become. The crowd gives her a solid reaction as she walks down the aisle and steps up onto the plywood. She takes a slow look around the mostly empty structure, then lifts the microphone.
The lights stay low, giving the whole scene a more serious, dramatic feel.
Mariska Hargitay: “Charlotte… thank you for being here tonight.”
She pauses, letting the noise settle.
Mariska Hargitay: “I know a lot of you are frustrated. And I get it. For the second week in a row… we don’t have a ring. Last week we had some issues. This week… more issues. And I know that’s not what you paid to see.”
She looks around the building, her tone shifting from apologetic to more serious.
Mariska Hargitay: “But I want to talk about something more important than just a ring tonight. I want to talk about hardworking men. Men who show up every day, do their jobs, and try to provide for the people who depend on them. Men who get knocked down, get told they’re not good enough, and still keep trying anyway.”
Her expression hardens slightly.
Mariska Hargitay: “One of those men… is Sterling Marlin. A lot of you have been asking about him. A lot of you have been wondering where he is and what’s going on. And I want you all to know something — Sterling is still very much a part of this company. He’s still very much a part of what we’re trying to build here.”
Mariska pauses, letting the crowd react before continuing.
Mariska Hargitay: “The reason Sterling isn’t out here with us tonight… is because he’s still recovering from what happened to him. Some of you may have heard rumors. Some of you may have seen the reports. But the truth is, Sterling was involved in a very serious situation. He was hurt badly — badly enough that he’s still under medical care. He’s been through surgeries, he’s dealing with significant injuries, and right now, his body simply isn’t in any condition to be here, let alone doing the job he’s always done for this company.”
She looks out at the crowd, her tone steady but heavy.
Mariska Hargitay: “Sterling wants to be here. He’s told people that. He wants to be out there doing what he’s always done — driving that truck, making sure this show runs the way it’s supposed to. But sometimes, no matter how much heart a man has, his body just won’t let him do the job. And that’s where we are right now.”
She takes a breath, then continues.
Mariska Hargitay: “In honor of Sterling… and everything he’s been through… I want to let you know that at Sunday’s PPV, there will be a major announcement regarding the future of CBWL. An announcement that I believe will directly involve where we go from here… and what role Sterling will play moving forward.”
The crowd reacts with a mix of noise and speculation.
Mariska Hargitay: “We’re not forgetting about the people who helped build this place. And we’re not going to let them be forgotten.”
She lowers the mic slightly, her expression firm.
Mariska Hargitay: “Now let’s have a show.”
Her music hits again as she walks off, the crowd buzzing after her comments about Sterling’s condition and the upcoming announcement.
End of Segment 1
The show cuts backstage to the interview area. Wendy Williams is standing there in a loud, colorful outfit, holding a microphone. She looks a little lost for a second before turning to the camera with a big, slightly confused smile.
Wendy Williams: “Okay… we’re live? We’re live? Alright. I’m here with… uh… Pam. Pam from… the office? The TV show? Yeah. Pam Beesly. Girl, what are you doing here? You were on that show with the paper company, right? With Jim? And now you’re… wrestling? What’s going on with you?”
Pam stands there awkwardly, giving a small, polite smile like she’s not quite sure how to handle Wendy’s energy.
Pam Beesly: “Yeah, that’s me. I was on The Office. And… I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to do something different. I’ve spent a lot of years being the nice, quiet girl. I figured it was time to try something else. Something where I could actually stand up for myself.”
Wendy tilts her head, clearly trying to follow along but struggling.
Wendy Williams: “Stand up for yourself? Okay… okay. So you’re here to fight? Like… actually fight girls? That’s what you’re saying? Because I gotta be honest, Pam, you don’t really look like the fighting type. You look like you should be answering phones or something. You know what I mean?”
Pam shifts uncomfortably but keeps her tone even.
Pam Beesly: “I get that a lot. People think I’m soft. But I’m not. I’ve been underestimated my whole life. And if coming here and doing this is what it takes to prove something, then that’s what I’m gonna do.”
Wendy stares at her for a second, then suddenly perks up like she just remembered something.
Wendy Williams: “Wait… did you say you were gonna beat people up? Or was that me? I can’t remember. Either way, you’re about to go out there in a minute. You ready for that? You look nervous. Are you nervous? You should be nervous. These girls are crazy.”
Pam gives a small, awkward laugh.
Pam Beesly: “I’m not nervous. I’m ready. Whoever’s out there… I’m not backing down.”
Wendy nods slowly, still looking a little lost.
Wendy Williams: “Okay… okay. Well… good luck, I guess. Or… break a leg? Is that what you say in wrestling? I don’t know. Just don’t die out there.”
Pam gives Wendy a polite nod and walks off toward the curtain as Wendy watches her go, still looking slightly confused.
End of Interview
We come back from commercial to a wide shot of the arena floor. In the very center, surrounded on all sides by the crowd, are several large sheets of plywood laid flat on the ground. There are no ropes, no raised platform — just plywood on the floor.
Standing in the middle of it is Pam Beesly, looking around with a confused and increasingly frustrated expression.
She’s been out there for almost a full minute with no opponent in sight. The crowd is starting to get restless — some are chanting, others are booing, and a few people are yelling for someone to come out already.
Pam walks over to the edge of the plywood and grabs a microphone from the timekeeper’s area.
Pam Beesly: “Okay… seriously, what the hell is going on? I was told I had a match tonight. I came out here ready. So where’s my opponent?”
She looks around the arena, clearly getting annoyed as the seconds continue to tick by with nothing happening.
Pam Beesly: “This is ridiculous. If nobody’s coming out, then I guess I’ll just—”
Before she can finish, Mila Kunis suddenly pushes through the crowd on the far side of the plywood. She doesn’t wait for music or an introduction. She just steps onto the flat plywood and rushes Pam, tackling her hard to the ground and immediately unloading with stiff punches and stomps.
The crowd pops loudly as Mila drags Pam up and throws her down onto the plywood again, then follows up with hard knees and elbows. Pam tries to cover up, but Mila is relentless — grabbing her by the hair and slamming her face-first into the wooden boards.
Mila doesn’t waste any time.
She drags Pam up by her hair and slams her back down onto the plywood with a hard thud. Pam tries to roll away, but Mila stays on her, throwing stiff, ugly punches and stomping her whenever she tries to get up. Pam manages to scramble to her knees and fires back with a couple of desperate punches to Mila’s midsection, but they don’t seem to do much. Mila barely flinches.
Pam swings again, this time catching Mila with a wild forearm, but Mila just shakes it off and grabs her. She takes Pam down to the plywood in a messy, untrained tackle, and the two of them start scrambling on the ground. It’s not technical — just a chaotic, ugly struggle as they roll and claw at each other. Pam tries to wrap her legs around Mila to slow her down, but Mila powers through it, throwing wild elbows and knees while they’re tangled up on the flat plywood.
Eventually, Mila manages to get on top. She grabs Pam by the hair with both hands and slams her head back down onto the wood once, then twice, before dragging her up to her feet. Without much technique, she lifts Pam up as best she can and slams her back down onto the plywood with a heavy impact.
Pam stays down, clearly hurting.
Mila stands over her for a second, breathing hard, then turns and walks over to the timekeeper’s area. She grabs a microphone off the table and slowly turns back toward Pam, who is still laid out on the plywood.
Mila stands over Pam’s motionless body for a second, breathing heavy. Then she reaches down, grabs Pam by the hair with both hands, and yanks her up so she’s forced to look at her. Pam’s eyes are glassy, barely conscious, but Mila doesn’t care. She holds her there, making sure Pam is looking right at her.
Mila Kunis: “Look at me.”
She leans in close, her voice low but loud enough for the microphone to pick up.
Mila Kunis: “I fucked Jim.”
The crowd reacts with a loud mix of gasps and cheers. Mila doesn’t let up.
Mila Kunis: “Yeah. That’s right. While you were still walking around Dunder Mifflin like some sad little receptionist, pretending you were better than everyone else… I was fucking your man. And you know what? He liked it.”
She tightens her grip on Pam’s hair, forcing her head up even more.
Mila Kunis: “You really thought you were special, huh? You thought Jim was gonna stay loyal to you forever while you played your little games? Engaged to Roy, stringing Jim along for years like some pathetic will-they-won’t-they bullshit. You were never gonna leave Roy. You were just using Jim to feel wanted. But guess what? Jim got tired of waiting around for your indecisive ass.”
Mila leans in even closer, her voice turning colder.
Mila Kunis: “You know that time Roy almost beat the shit out of Jim at the bar? Yeah. That was me. I made sure Roy found out Jim kissed you. I wanted to see what would happen. And when you finally left Roy and still couldn’t make up your mind about Jim? That was me too. Whispering in his ear. Telling him you were never gonna choose him. That he was wasting his time on some sad little Dunder Mifflin whore who didn’t know what she wanted.”
She lets that hang for a second as the crowd reacts.
Mila Kunis: “You spent years playing games with him. Years. And when he finally moved on and started doing something for himself with Athlead? You couldn’t even support him. You made it all about you. Just like always.”
Mila grabs Pam’s face with one hand now, forcing her to keep looking at her.
Mila Kunis: “And now look at you. Laid out on some fucking plywood in the middle of an arena, getting your ass beat by the woman who’s actually fucking the man you couldn’t keep. This is what you get for playing games with Jim. This is what you get for being a selfish, indecisive little bitch who thought she could have it both ways.”
Mila stands over Pam’s motionless body, gripping her by the hair and forcing her to look up at her. Pam is barely conscious, eyes glassy, as Mila leans in close with a cold, smug expression.
Mila Kunis: “Look at me.”
She tightens her grip.
Mila Kunis: “I fucked Jim.”
The crowd reacts loudly as Mila continues, her voice low and venomous.
Mila Kunis: “Yeah. While you were at home playing the sad little housewife, crying about how overwhelmed you were with the kids, Jim was in Philadelphia. And guess who was there with him? Me. While you were sitting around Dunder Mifflin complaining that he was never home, I was the one actually keeping him company. I was the one telling him he didn’t have to feel guilty about going after what he wanted.”
She leans in even closer.
Mila Kunis: “You really thought he was gonna stay loyal to you forever? After years of you stringing him along while you were still engaged to Roy? After making him wait around like some pathetic backup plan? Nah. He got tired of it. And when he finally started doing something for himself with Athlead, you couldn’t even support him. You made it all about you. Just like always.”
Mila grabs Pam’s face with one hand now, forcing her head up.
Mila Kunis: “You know that money he put into the company? The money you two had saved? Yeah. I was the one who told him to do it. I was the one who told him you’d never understand. That you’d just hold him back like you always did. And you know what? He listened. Because deep down, he already knew you were never gonna be enough for him.”
She lets that hang for a second before delivering the final blow.
Mila Kunis: “So yeah… I fucked Jim. And the best part? He liked it. A lot more than he ever liked being stuck with you.”
Mila lets go of Pam’s hair and lets her drop back down onto the plywood. She takes a step back, measures her up, and then drills her with a brutal, stiff superkick right to the jaw. Pam’s body goes completely limp as she collapses flat on the plywood.
Mila drops down, hooks the leg, and makes the cover.
1… 2… 3.
The referee calls for the bell as Mila’s music hits. She slowly stands up and looks down at Pam’s unconscious body for a few seconds before walking off without another word.
End of Segment 2
Kristen Bell’s music hits and she makes her normal entrance, walking out with a confident smile and waving to the crowd. She makes her way down to the plywood in the center of the arena floor and steps onto it, stretching and getting ready.
A few moments later, Boxxy comes out with Anya Taylor-Joy by her side. Boxxy looks visibly nervous as she walks down the aisle, glancing over at Anya multiple times like she’s looking for reassurance. Anya, on the other hand, looks disinterested at best — almost like she doesn’t want to be there. She barely acknowledges Boxxy as they reach the plywood.
Boxxy steps onto the plywood and looks back at Anya one more time, but Anya just stands near the edge with her arms crossed, avoiding eye contact.
The two women square up in the center of the plywood. They lock up, push each other around for a few seconds, then break. They lock up again. This time, Kristen suddenly stops and turns to the referee — Urkel — and calls for a microphone.
The crowd starts booing as Kristen takes the mic and just stands there, stalling. She walks around the plywood slowly, looking out at the crowd while Boxxy stands there waiting, clearly unsure what to do.
Kristen Bell: “Seriously?”
She looks at Boxxy, then back at the crowd.
Kristen Bell: “Look at her. She’s untrained. You can tell. She has no idea what she’s doing out here. This is embarrassing.”
The crowd boos louder as Kristen drops the mic and finally engages. The match starts ugly.
It’s all catch wrestling and scrappy brawling on the hard plywood. Both women are clearly untrained, but Kristen moves with noticeably better timing and control. She keeps circling Boxxy, using her footwork and quick bursts to stay one step ahead. Boxxy is trying her hardest — throwing wild strikes and trying to clinch — but Kristen keeps slipping away and landing cleaner shots.
They hit the plywood hard multiple times. Splinters fly. Both women are getting scraped up and bruised from the rough surface. Kristen starts to dominate more clearly, locking Boxxy in awkward but effective holds and stretching her out on the plywood. Boxxy is visibly struggling, breathing heavy and looking exhausted.
At one point, Boxxy gets Kristen in a messy headlock on the ground and starts yelling toward the edge of the plywood.
Boxxy: “Anya! Help me! Anya, come on!”
Anya doesn’t move. She just stands there, looking away.
Referee Urkel looks genuinely confused, glancing between Boxxy and Anya like he doesn’t understand why Anya isn’t getting involved. The crowd starts turning on Anya hard, booing and chanting “Anya sucks!” Urkel even starts yelling at her to either help or get away from the plywood, clearly shocked that she’s just standing there doing nothing.
Anya looks overwhelmed. The crowd is on her, the ref is yelling at her, and Boxxy keeps calling for her. Eventually, she starts backing up and tries to slink away through the crowd, disappearing as the boos follow her.
With Anya gone, Boxxy looks completely alone. Kristen takes full advantage, stretching her out with a nasty-looking hold on the plywood. Boxxy is clearly fading, but she somehow finds one last burst of energy. She reverses the hold and manages to get Kristen in a desperation tap-out spot, cranking hard on her arm. For a moment, it looks like Kristen might actually tap.
But then — complete fluke.
Kristen manages to roll through the hold at the last second. She grabs Boxxy’s leg in a messy scramble and stacks her up for a pin.
1… 2… 3.
The referee calls for the bell. Kristen Bell wins in the most awkward, ugly fluke finish possible.
Boxxy sits up on the plywood, clearly frustrated and in pain. She looks around for Anya, her expression hurt and betrayed… but Anya is nowhere to be found. She’s already gone.
Kristen gets to her feet and celebrates as the crowd reacts with a mix of cheers and confusion at how the match ended.
End of Segment 3
The show cuts to a dimly lit hospital room. The lighting is low and moody. In the center of the frame is Sterling Marlin, lying in a hospital bed. He’s wearing dark aviator sunglasses, the kind Jim Jones used to rock — big, flashy, and completely out of place in a hospital setting. His head is slightly tilted to the side. He’s completely still. No visible movement. No sign of whether he’s awake, asleep, or even still with us.
Nicki Minaj sits on the edge of the bed next to him. She’s wearing something tight and low-cut, her hand gently resting on his chest as she looks at him. After a moment, she slowly climbs onto the bed and straddles his lap, moving slowly and sensually as she gives him a lapdance. Her hand slides under the blanket, stroking him as she speaks.
Her voice is soft at first, but emotional — that signature Nicki mix of vulnerability and strength.
Nicki Minaj: “You hear me, baby? I know you can hear me. Even if you can’t say nothin’ back right now… I know you hearin’ every word.”
She keeps grinding slowly on him, her tone getting more passionate.
Nicki Minaj: “You one of them real ones, Sterling. One of them men that actually show up. That actually do what they say they gon’ do. That actually take care of the people around them. And I know it ain’t easy. I know this world don’t make it easy for men like you. They knock you down, they try to break you, they try to make you feel like you ain’t enough… but you still here. You still fightin’.”
She leans down closer to him, her voice getting softer but more intense.
Nicki Minaj: “I know you wanna be out there. I know you wanna be drivin’ that truck, makin’ sure everything run right. I know you hate sittin’ still like this. But you gotta come back to us, baby. You gotta come back strong. ‘Cause this company… this place… it needs men like you. Real men. Men that don’t fold when shit get hard.”
She sits up a little straighter, still moving on him slowly as she looks directly into the camera for a moment, speaking to the audience as much as she’s speaking to Sterling.
Nicki Minaj: “And to all the men out there watchin’ this right now… the ones that feel like they carryin’ the weight of the world on they back… the ones that feel like they gettin’ overlooked, underpaid, and disrespected… this one’s for y’all too. ‘Cause Sterling? He one of us. He one of y’all. And when he come back — and he will come back — he gon’ remind everybody what it look like when a real one stand tall again.”
She looks back down at Sterling, her voice cracking just slightly.
Nicki Minaj: “I know you gon’ be good by Sunday, baby. I can feel it. You too strong to stay down forever. You gon’ come back… and when you do, everybody gon’ remember exactly who the fuck Sterling Marlin is.”
She keeps moving slowly on him, gently stroking under the blanket as she rests her forehead against his.
The camera slowly drifts over to the doorway.
Standing in the shadows, half-hidden in the darkness of the hallway, is Emma Watson. She’s watching the scene quietly. After a few seconds, a slow, cold, and deeply unsettling grin spreads across her face. She tilts her head slightly, like something just clicked in her mind.
She stares for a moment longer… then the screen fades to black.
End of Segment 4
The show cuts back to the flat plywood sheets in the center of the arena. The surface is in rough shape — covered in dirt, blood, and splinters from the matches earlier in the night.
Jennette McCurdy comes out first, looking aggressive. She steps onto the plywood and starts pacing, clearly ready to fight.
A few moments later, Florence Pugh makes her entrance. She’s still moving stiffly and uncomfortably. She steps onto the plywood and takes a second to breathe before the match starts.
The match is ugly from the jump.
There’s no technique, just two women swinging, grabbing, and throwing each other around on the hard, dirty plywood. Splinters fly every time they hit the ground. Jennette lands a stiff forearm that splits Florence’s lip early. Florence fires back with a wild punch that catches Jennette and gives her a fat lip within the first couple of minutes.
They keep crashing into the plywood over and over. Both women are getting cut up and bruised from the rough surface. Referee Sara Silverman is struggling too — every time she drops down for a pin or gets too close to the action, she’s wincing and shaking out her hands from the splinters digging into her palms.
About midway through the match, Jennette starts getting the better of things. She’s more aggressive and starts targeting Florence with stiff knees and forearms while they’re on the ground. Florence is clearly struggling, both from the beating and whatever’s going on with her body.
At one point, Sara Silverman tries to get in close for a better look during a pin attempt and ends up with more splinters in her hands. She stops the action, looks at her palms, and decides she’s had enough. She walks off the plywood and heads toward the back to get gloves, leaving the match without a referee for a short stretch.
While Sara is gone, Jennette takes full advantage. She starts throwing closed fists and knees to the head with no regard for the rules. Florence tries to cover up, but Jennette stays on her, throwing illegal shots until Sara finally comes back out with gloves on and restarts the match.
By the time Sara returns, Florence is in much worse shape — bleeding from the mouth with swelling around one eye. Jennette is also cut up and breathing heavy, but she’s been able to do a lot more damage while the ref was gone.
The match stays rough and ugly. Jennette starts to take control again and sets up for what looks like a finish. She goes for a big move on the plywood, but Florence reverses it out of pure desperation. In the scramble, Jennette’s foot slips awkwardly on the edge of the plywood. She tries to recover, but Florence manages to roll her up in a messy pin.
Sara Silverman drops down to count, even though she’s clearly still in pain.
1… 2… 3.
The referee calls for the bell. Florence Pugh wins — but it’s not clean. Jennette made a mistake trying to finish the match, and it cost her.
Florence sits up on the plywood, clearly exhausted and in pain, holding her stomach as she tries to catch her breath. Jennette sits up too, frustrated and banged up, immediately looking around…
But there’s no one there for her.
End of Match
Florence Pugh is still sitting on the plywood, breathing heavy and clearly in discomfort, when Wendy Williams walks out holding a microphone. She’s got a plate of cheese in her other hand. She sits down right next to Florence and tries to get herself together before speaking.
Wendy Williams: “Okay… okay, we’re live? Alright. Florence… you just got the win. That was your first official match here in CBWL, right? How you feelin’? You good? You look… you look a little… I don’t know, you look like you gotta shit or somethin’. You good?”
Florence looks at Wendy like she’s annoyed, then smirks and grabs a piece of cheese off the plate.
Florence Pugh: “Yeah, it was my first match. And I won, obviously. How do I feel? I feel great. Way better than you look, that’s for sure. I mean, look at you. You’re old as hell, you’re ugly, and half the time you don’t even know what the fuck you’re saying. It’s actually kinda sad.”
Wendy blinks a few times, clearly trying to process what Florence just said.
Wendy Williams: “Wait… did you just call me ugly? And old? I mean… I know I’m not 25 anymore but… damn. That’s crazy. You really just said that on TV?”
Florence keeps going, clearly enjoying herself.
Florence Pugh: “Yeah, I said it. You’re sitting here doing interviews like you still got it, but you’re out here looking washed up and confused. It’s embarrassing. You should probably just go home and take your old ass to bed.”
Before Wendy can respond, Mariska Hargitay’s music hits.
Mariska storms out onto the plywood looking pissed. She grabs a microphone and immediately gets in Florence’s face, cutting her off before she can say anything else.
Mariska Hargitay: “Florence. I’ve been hearing some things. Word around the back is that you haven’t been taking care of yourself. That you’ve been ignoring what you’re supposed to be doing to stay ready. That you’ve just been stuffing your face and acting like it’s not a problem.”
Florence looks caught off guard, still holding a piece of cheese.
Mariska Hargitay: “You think this is funny? You think you can come out here, embarrass this company, and then sit here and talk shit about people who actually work here? Nah. Not happening.”
She stares Florence down.
Mariska Hargitay: “Since you wanna run your mouth and act like you’re above all this, I’m gonna make sure Sunday is extra special for you. On PPV, you and Kristen Bell are officially having an Eat My Shit match. And since you wanted to talk all that shit just now, I’m gonna make sure you eat every single word you just said.”
The crowd reacts loudly as Florence’s face drops. She looks completely blindsided.
Mariska Hargitay: “You brought this on yourself. Don’t forget that.”
Mariska drops the mic and walks off as Florence sits there on the plywood looking stunned and humiliated while Wendy continues casually eating cheese next to her.
Florence is still sitting on the plywood looking stunned as Mariska walks off. She turns to Wendy with wide eyes, clearly panicking.
Florence Pugh: “Wait… wait, what the fuck did she just say? What the fuck is an ‘Eat My Shit’ match?! What does that even mean?!”
Wendy looks at her for a second, then turns to the camera with a big, chaotic smile like she just got the best gossip in the world.
Wendy Williams: “Ohhh girl… you don’t know? You really don’t know? Okay, okay, let me explain this to the people at home ‘cause Florence over here is lost. See, word around the back is that Florence has been eating cheese. Like… a lot of cheese. All week. Non-stop. And now she’s all… backed up. You know what I’m saying? She can’t shit!”
Florence’s face drops even more as Wendy keeps going, clearly having the time of her life.
Wendy Williams: “So now I gotta ask… how the hell are you supposed to win an ‘Eat My Shit’ match if you can’t even shit?! Like, what are you gonna do? You gon’ just sit there on the toilet lookin’ stupid while Kristen Bell is out here ready to go? This is crazy!”
Florence is starting to freak out even more, looking around like she’s hoping someone will tell her this isn’t real.
Florence Pugh: “This can’t be real. This is a joke, right? She’s not actually making me do that. There’s no way—”
Wendy Williams: “Oh it’s real, baby! It’s very real! You been out here eating cheese like it’s your last meal and now you gotta pay the price! This is what happens when you don’t take care of yourself! Now you out here constipated and about to get embarrassed on live TV! This is crazy! This is actually crazy!”
Wendy is laughing and shaking her head, clearly enjoying every second of this while Florence sits there looking completely humiliated and overwhelmed.
Wendy is still laughing and cackling at Florence’s expense, getting more and more worked up.
Wendy Williams: “You really out here constipated and they makin’ you do an Eat My Shit match?! This is the funniest shit I ever heard in my life! You gon’ be sittin’ on that toilet lookin’ stupid while Kristen Bell is out here ready to go! This is crazy! This is actually crazy! HAHAHA—!”
Wendy’s laughter suddenly turns violent. She starts choking and spitting, doubling over as she tries to catch her breath. For a second it looks like she might actually throw up on the plywood. She gags, swallows it back down, and keeps laughing through it in a wheezing, unhinged way.
Then, just as quickly as it started, the laughter stops.
Wendy’s face goes blank. She looks around like she has no idea where she is.
Wendy Williams: (confused) “…Where am I? What’s going on? Who is this girl?”
Before Florence can even respond, a pair of hands reaches into frame from off-screen and grabs Wendy by the arm, pulling her away. The person is never shown on camera — just a pair of arms in a dark jacket guiding her off-screen while she continues mumbling in confusion.
The shot stays on Florence Pugh.
She’s still sitting on the plywood, staring straight ahead with wide, teary eyes. The reality of what just happened is clearly hitting her all at once. She looks completely shocked, scared, and overwhelmed as the camera slowly pushes in on her face before fading to black.
End of Segment 5
The show cuts to Gorilla position backstage. Mariska Hargitay is standing near the curtain, watching the monitors. Taylor Swift walks up beside her, still in her gear from earlier.
Mariska Hargitay: (quietly, to Taylor) “Jesus Christ… that Wendy girl is so fucking ugly and stupid. I can’t stand watching her out there. But don’t worry… that’s all gonna change on Sunday.”
Taylor glances at her, curious.
Taylor Swift: “Wait… was that the big announcement you were talking about earlier? The one you said was gonna happen at the PPV?”
Mariska shakes her head.
Mariska Hargitay: “No. That’s not it.”
She pauses for a second, then speaks again, more matter-of-fact.
Mariska Hargitay: “But while we’re at it… at the PPV, we’re also doing an Escape the Stall rematch. The iCarlys versus Boxxy and Anya. Same rules as last time.”
Taylor nods, taking it in.
Taylor Swift: “Got it.”
Mariska gives her a quick look.
Mariska Hargitay: “Go get ready. You’re up soon.”
Taylor nods again and heads off as Mariska turns her attention back to the monitors.
The show cuts to the ring. Taylor Swift’s music hits and she makes her entrance, getting a strong reaction from the crowd as she walks down the aisle and steps into the ring. She takes a microphone and walks to the center, soaking in the reaction for a moment before speaking.
Taylor Swift: “Charlotte… I just wanna say thank you for being here tonight. I know things have been crazy around here lately, but I appreciate every single one of you for sticking with us.”
She takes a breath, her tone shifting into something more emotional.
Taylor Swift: “I also wanna take a second to talk about someone who isn’t out here with us right now… but is here tonight. Sterling Marlin. A lot of you have been asking about him. A lot of you have been worried. And I just want you all to know… what happened to him wasn’t right. The way he was treated… it was disgusting.”
She pauses, letting the crowd react.
Taylor Swift: “And I wanna personally thank Nicki Minaj for what she’s been doing for him. For being there for him when nobody else was. Nicki… you’re doing a great thing. And I just want you to know… I’ll take over for you later.”
The crowd pops at the implication. Taylor smiles and shifts her tone, trying to lighten the mood.
Taylor Swift: “But right now… I wanna do something for all of you. So let me ask you something…”
She looks around the arena with a playful grin.
Taylor Swift: “Do y’all wanna see me shake my ass to the Cha-Cha Slide?”
The crowd erupts even louder than before, clearly excited at the idea. Taylor laughs and starts dancing as her music hits, doing the Cha-Cha Slide in the ring while the fans cheer and sing along.
There’s a strange energy in the building though.
A lot of the crowd is still buzzing from what Taylor said about “taking over for Nicki later” and the idea that Sterling is actually in the building tonight. Some fans are looking toward the tunnel, almost like they’re expecting him to come out. Others are confused — they saw him earlier in the night during the hospital segment, completely immobile, wearing those dark aviators, barely moving. Now Taylor’s out here dancing and teasing that he might appear?
No one on commentary addresses it. No one explains what’s going on. The moment just hangs there, strange and unresolved, as Taylor continues dancing in the ring.
Taylor is still in the ring dancing to the Cha-Cha Slide as the crowd sings along. The energy is high, and a lot of fans are still buzzing from the idea that Sterling might actually come out.
Then, a graphic flashes across the screen:
“UP NEXT: Taylor Swift vs Miranda Cosgrove”
The crowd reacts with a loud pop at the announcement. Taylor keeps dancing, hyping everyone up as the song builds toward the final part of the routine.
Just as she hits the big climax of the Cha-Cha Slide and the crowd is at its loudest…
The screen cuts to black for a split second.
When it comes back, we’re backstage.
The screen cuts from Taylor dancing in the ring to backstage.
Emma Watson storms into frame and immediately attacks Nicki Minaj, who is completely caught off guard. Emma grabs her by the hair and slams her into the wall before throwing her to the ground. Nicki tries to scramble away, but Emma is on her fast.
Emma grabs the straps she ripped off Sterling’s truck earlier and wraps them around Nicki’s neck from behind. She starts choking her hard, pulling tight as Nicki gasps and claws at the straps.
Emma leans down close to Nicki’s ear, her voice low, cold, and full of venom.
Emma Watson: “You really thought you were doing something good, didn’t you? Coming in here, playing nurse, acting like you actually give a fuck about him. You’re so fucking pathetic.”
She yanks the straps tighter as Nicki struggles.
Emma Watson: “You’re not helping him. You’re not saving him. You’re just making yourself feel important because deep down, you know you’re nothing without someone to attach yourself to. And now you’re gonna pay for it.”
Nicki is choking and gasping, clearly not expecting any of this. Emma keeps the pressure on, her voice getting even colder.
Emma Watson: “You should’ve stayed in your lane. You should’ve kept your mouth shut and minded your own fucking business. But no… you had to play the hero. And now look at you.”
Emma leans in even closer, almost whispering as she continues choking her.
Emma Watson: “This is what happens when you get in my way.”
Emma keeps the straps tight around Nicki’s neck for a few more seconds before finally letting go. Nicki gasps and coughs violently, trying to catch her breath. Emma grabs her by the hair and throws her into the corner of the hallway. Nicki crumples against the wall, clearly shaken and struggling to get her bearings.
Emma stands over her, breathing slowly and heavily. Her voice is low, cold, and disturbingly calm.
Emma Watson: “You have no idea what you’re doing. None. You think you’re helping him. You think you’re doing something noble. But you’re not. You’re protecting a man who doesn’t deserve to be protected.”
She takes a slow step closer.
Emma Watson: “Sterling Marlin has had every advantage this world could give him. He’s had privilege. He’s had opportunity. He’s had people willing to look the other way while he did whatever he wanted. And now that he’s finally facing consequences, now that he’s finally suffering like so many others have suffered… you want to save him?”
Emma’s voice stays slow and brooding, almost like she’s speaking to herself as much as to Nicki.
Emma Watson: “Meanwhile, Palestine is still burning. Women and children are still dying. People are still being displaced, bombed, and erased while the world watches and does nothing. And you’re in here… comforting him? Stroking his ego? Acting like his life matters more than theirs?”
She lets out a short, bitter laugh.
Emma Watson: “It’s disgusting. It’s actually disgusting. You talk about feminism. You talk about standing up for the oppressed. But the second it’s inconvenient, the second it’s someone you know, you fold. You protect the privileged. You protect the men who’ve always been protected.”
Emma suddenly moves toward Sterling’s hospital bed. Without hesitation, she starts ripping the tubes and wires off of him. Sterling’s body jerks violently as she yanks everything away. She then pulls him off the bed, and his body flops hard onto the cold floor with a sickening thud. A low, pained groan escapes him as the machines around the bed start beeping frantically and erratically.
Emma stands over him for a second, then lets out a slow, unsettling laugh.
Emma Watson: “Look at him. This is what happens when the world stops protecting you. This is what it looks like when your privilege finally runs out.”
She turns her attention back to Nicki, who is still slumped in the corner, staring in horror. Emma walks over, grabs her, and starts strapping her down to the hospital gurney with the same straps she used earlier.
Emma Watson: “You want to play the hero? Fine. But you don’t get to pick and choose who deserves saving based on who you like. That’s not feminism. That’s just hypocrisy with better branding.”
Emma finishes strapping Nicki down to the gurney. She grabs the handles and starts running full speed down the long backstage hallway, pushing the gurney in front of her. The machines and life support equipment are left behind with Sterling, who is still lying motionless on the floor as the monitors continue to beep erratically.
Emma reaches a stairwell and doesn’t slow down. She launches the gurney down the first set of stairs. It crashes violently, tumbling and bouncing as Nicki screams. The gurney hits the landing, flips slightly, and then continues falling down the next flight.
What was supposed to be a controlled stunt down two sections of stairs goes completely off-script. The force is so strong that the gurney turns and bounces off the wall, sending it careening down an extra floor. It tumbles violently down three full flights instead of one, crashing hard at the bottom with Nicki still strapped to it.
The camera captures the entire thing in one long, unbroken shot. It looks chaotic and brutal — almost too real. To the audience watching at home, it’s very obvious that something went wrong with the stunt.
But nobody backstage seems to notice or care.
The camera slowly pans back up the stairwell and lingers on Sterling Marlin, still lying on the cold floor where Emma dumped him. The machines around him are going wild, beeping and flashing as he remains completely motionless.
The screen fades to black on that image.
We come back from commercial to a quiet backstage area. Taylor Swift, Wendy Williams, and Mariska Hargitay are gathered around Sterling Marlin, who is still lying on the floor where Emma dumped him. The machines have been turned off or moved. Taylor is visibly crying, kneeling beside him. Wendy is also in tears, though she looks more confused than anything. Mariska stands over them, trying to stay composed but clearly emotional.
Mariska Hargitay: (quietly) “This ends tonight.”
She looks at Taylor.
Mariska Hargitay: “Taylor… if you can find Emma before she leaves this building, you have my full permission to do whatever you need to do. No repercussions. No consequences. Go handle it.”
Taylor wipes her eyes, nods, and takes off running down the hallway without another word.
The camera follows Taylor as she sprints through the backstage area and bursts out into the parking garage. She looks around frantically, but Emma’s car is already gone — just the taillights disappearing in the distance as she speeds away.
Taylor slows down, breathing hard, clearly frustrated that she missed her. She starts walking further into the garage when she notices someone near Sterling’s vandalized truck.
It’s Miranda Cosgrove.
She’s standing by the truck, looking like she was in the middle of helping Emma get away. When she sees Taylor, her eyes widen.
Before Miranda can say anything, Taylor rushes her.
Taylor tackles Miranda to the ground and starts beating the shit out of her — throwing hard, angry punches with no hesitation. Miranda tries to cover up and scramble away, but Taylor stays on her, slamming her head against the concrete a couple of times before finally letting up.
Miranda is left laid out and barely moving on the ground right next to Sterling’s destroyed truck.
Taylor stands over her for a second, breathing heavily, then turns and runs back inside toward Sterling without looking back.
The camera slowly pushes in on Sterling’s vandalized truck — tires slashed, windows busted, the whole thing fucked up — with Miranda lying unconscious right beside it.
The shot lingers on the image as the show fades to black.
End of Show
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