Scene: Gas South Arena – Backstage / Loading Area – Morning
The backstage area is starting to fill up as more people arrive. Some of them are actually booked for the show. Others… not so much.
Taylor Swift walks in with her gear bag, already in casual clothes, heading toward the locker room area. She gives a small nod to a couple of crew members as she passes.
Not far behind her, Kristen Bell arrives, sunglasses on, looking like she’s already over the day. She spots Taylor but doesn’t say anything, just keeps walking.
Mila Kunis shows up next with a hoodie on, earbuds in, looking focused. She’s clearly ready to work.
On the other side of things, people who weren’t booked for tonight are also rolling in:
Boxxy (Catie Wayne) wanders in with a backpack, looking around like she’s hoping someone will put her on the show last minute. She spots one of the agents and starts heading in their direction.
Jennette McCurdy and Miranda Cosgrove arrive together, both clearly not on the card tonight but showing up anyway. Jennette looks annoyed, while Miranda seems more curious about the chaos.
Anya Taylor-Joy quietly slips in, keeping to herself near the wall, watching everything unfold with that usual distant expression.
A couple of the lower midcard girls who weren’t used this week are also hanging around — some talking to production, others just standing around like they’re hoping to get pulled into something.
Cowboy Watts walks through the area with Jim Ross and spots the growing mix of people. He mutters under his breath.
Cowboy Watts: (quietly, to JR) Half these girls weren’t even supposed to be here tonight. What the fuck are they doing?
Jim Ross: (sighing) Word travels fast when there’s drama. Some of them probably heard things were falling apart and figured they’d show up just in case.
Cowboy Watts: (grumbling) This ain’t a goddamn open call. We already got enough problems without a bunch of unbooked talent wandering around looking for face time.
He watches as more people keep filtering in — some with purpose, others just drifting around like they’re waiting for something to happen.
Cowboy Watts: (mutters) This day just keeps getting better…
Cowboy Watts is standing near a stack of equipment crates when Stanley Kubrick and John Wick approach him. Kubrick has a small notebook in his hand and looks like he’s already been thinking about this for a while. Wick, as usual, is quiet and direct.
Stanley Kubrick: (straight to the point) We need to figure out the sets for tonight. Without a ring, we’re going to have to designate specific areas inside the building for the matches. Lighting, camera placement, crowd sightlines — it all changes.
John Wick: (nodding) Security too. We need to know where everything’s happening so we can control the flow and keep people out of the wrong areas.
Cowboy Watts: (rubbing his chin) Yeah… I’ve been thinking about that. We can’t just throw matches wherever. We need designated spots that actually work for TV and for the live crowd.
He looks between the two of them.
Cowboy Watts: Who else do you think we should pull in on this? I don’t want to make these calls by myself and then have half the building complaining later.
Stanley Kubrick: (without hesitation) Production should be involved. At least one of the camera leads and whoever’s running lighting tonight. If we’re setting up multiple areas, we need to know what we can actually shoot cleanly.
John Wick: Security and maybe one of the match agents. Someone who knows the layout of the building and how the crowd moves. We don’t want people wandering into active match areas.
Cowboy Watts: (nodding) Yeah… that makes sense. I’ll get Sarah or Bill in on it — they’ve got a good feel for how these things play out live. And I’ll pull one of the production guys too.
He exhales and looks out at the empty floor again.
Cowboy Watts: We’re gonna have to get creative. Some matches in the ring area even without the ring, maybe one or two out in the concourse or near the entrance. We just need to make sure it doesn’t look like complete chaos on camera.
Stanley Kubrick: It won’t look clean no matter what we do. But we can make it intentional. That’s the difference.
John Wick: As long as we lock in the locations soon, we can control the rest.
Cowboy Watts: (nodding) Alright. Let’s pull the right people and figure this out before it gets any later. I don’t want us still deciding this shit an hour before doors.
He flicks his cigarette and starts walking.
Cowboy Watts: Come on. Let’s go find Sarah and one of the camera guys. We’re burning daylight.
Cowboy Watts stands with Stanley Kubrick, John Wick, and Jim Ross near a stack of unused production equipment. He’s been quiet for the last minute, staring out at the empty arena floor like he’s working something out in his head. Finally, he speaks.
Cowboy Watts: Alright. Here’s what we’re doing.
He points out toward the middle of the arena floor.
Cowboy Watts: We’re not waiting on a ring that ain’t coming. We’re gonna use what’s already here. They got plywood laid down over the ice for the event. We’re gonna spray paint a big circle right in the center of it — old school Olympic style. No ropes. No turnbuckles. Just hard, splintered particle board. That’s gonna be our “ring” for most of the night.
Stanley Kubrick: (already thinking visually) It’ll look raw on camera. We can lean into that.
Cowboy Watts: For the main event — Emma and Hilary — we’re gonna cut a three-by-three square out of the boards right in the middle of that circle. Expose the ice underneath. I want the FX guys to hit it with dry ice so it smokes up when they land on it. Make it look nasty. I want that match to feel like it actually matters. No bullshit. Just two women beating the shit out of each other on ice and plywood in the middle of the building.
Jim Ross: (nodding slowly) That’s… different. But it could work. Especially if we sell it like they’re fighting in the most stripped-down environment possible.
Cowboy Watts: And for Mila and Laura… we’re doing a concession stand brawl. Full-on, messy, Tupac-style chaos. They can tear the whole thing apart if they want. I don’t care. That one doesn’t need to be pretty.
He looks at Kubrick and Wick.
Cowboy Watts: We’re also gonna need one more spot later in the show. Mariska’s gonna call an impromptu match. That one’s happening in the handicap stall of the oldest, nastiest, most out-of-date bathroom in this building. No cameras in there except the ones we control. We’ll figure out the logistics later.
John Wick: (practical) We’ll need to lock down the area and control who goes in and out. That bathroom’s gonna be a nightmare for security.
Stanley Kubrick: (already planning shots) We can make it feel claustrophobic. Tight angles. Bad lighting. It’ll stand out.
Cowboy Watts: (firm) Good. That’s the plan. We’re not gonna sit around crying about not having a ring. We’re gonna use what we’ve got and make it look like we meant to do it this way.
He looks at the three of them.
Cowboy Watts: Anybody got a problem with any of that?
The group stays quiet for a moment. Nobody pushes back.
Cowboy Watts: (nodding) Then let’s get to work. We don’t have much time.
The entire crew, booked talent, and most of the power structure have been called down to the middle of the arena floor. There’s no ring — just a large, freshly spray-painted circle on the plywood covering the ice. People are standing around in loose groups, some looking confused, others already annoyed.
Cowboy Watts stands in the center of the circle with Jim Ross beside him. He looks around at the crowd — wrestlers, agents, production, security, and a few people who probably didn’t even need to be there.
He doesn’t waste time.
Cowboy Watts: (loud, direct) Alright, listen up! Doors are in two hours. We don’t have a ring. That’s not changing. So here’s how this is gonna work.
He gestures around at the spray-painted circle on the floor.
Cowboy Watts: This is our ring tonight. Right here in the middle of the building. Hard plywood over ice. No ropes, no turnbuckles. We’re telling the fans that Sterling Marlin crashed with the ring weeks ago during the same wreck that put him in the hospital. That’s the story. We’re sticking to it.
A few people murmur, but nobody interrupts.
Cowboy Watts: Most of the show is gonna happen in or around this circle. Some of it won’t. Mila and Laura are doing a concession stand brawl. The main event — Emma and Hilary — is happening right here in the center, on the ice. We cut a square out and we’re gimmicking it up with dry ice. It’s gonna smoke when they hit it. That’s intentional.
He looks around at the agents and production.
Cowboy Watts: We’re making this up as we go in some places. I expect you to work with what you’ve got and not use the missing ring as an excuse to phone it in. The opening with Taylor and the main event matter the most tonight. Everything else, just make it work.
He pauses for a second, then continues.
Cowboy Watts: Later in the show, Mariska’s calling an impromptu match. That one’s happening in the handicap stall of the oldest, nastiest bathroom in this building. We’ll give you the details when it’s time.
He looks around at everyone one more time.
Cowboy Watts: We’ve had a fucked up morning. I know that. But we’ve got two hours until doors and five thousand people coming through them. We either pull this together or we embarrass ourselves. Your choice.
He nods once.
Cowboy Watts: Get to work. We open in two hours.
He turns and walks off with Jim Ross as the group starts to disperse, some people already talking among themselves about what they just heard.
Cowboy Watts had started walking away after his speech when he hears some low murmuring and complaining from the group. He stops dead in his tracks and turns back around, his face hardening.
Cowboy Watts: (snapping) Do I hear people complaining?
The murmuring dies down immediately. Everyone goes quiet.
Cowboy steps back into the middle of the spray-painted circle, looking around at the large crowd that had gathered.
Cowboy Watts: (raising his voice) Let me make something real fucking clear. Too many of you are here right now. Way too many. If you weren’t booked for this show, you shouldn’t have shown up. This ain’t a goddamn social club. This ain’t open mic night. We already got enough problems without a bunch of unbooked talent wandering around looking for face time or trying to get themselves pulled into something.
He scans the crowd, his tone getting sharper.
Cowboy Watts: If you’re not on the show tonight, you don’t need to be here. Period. I don’t care if you’re under contract. I don’t care if you’re “just checking in.” If you’re not booked, stay the fuck home next time. You’re not helping. You’re in the way.
There’s an uncomfortable silence. A few of the unbooked girls shift awkwardly.
Then Sheri L. Dew speaks up from the side, nodding in agreement.
Sheri L. Dew: He’s right. We’re already over budget and behind schedule. The last thing we need is extra bodies who weren’t supposed to be here taking up space and resources. This isn’t professional.
Cowboy nods once at her, then looks back out at the group.
Cowboy Watts: Since some of you clearly don’t understand how this works, here’s what’s gonna happen. All the girls who don’t have a segment on the show tonight — I want you in Jim Ross’s office. Right now. We’re gonna have a little conversation about showing up when you’re not supposed to be here.
He pauses, letting it sink in.
Cowboy Watts: And if I have to say this shit again next week, we’re gonna have a much bigger problem. Now get moving.
He turns and starts walking again, this time with Jim Ross beside him. A handful of the unbooked girls look at each other nervously before slowly heading toward the office area.
The unbooked girls who were told to report to the office slowly file in and stand around awkwardly. Among them are Boxxy (Catie Wayne), Jennette McCurdy, Miranda Cosgrove, and Anya Taylor-Joy. Some look annoyed, others look nervous. No one from management is there yet.
Ten full minutes pass in uncomfortable silence. The tension in the room steadily rises. Boxxy keeps shifting her weight. Jennette looks like she’s already regretting showing up. Miranda keeps checking her phone. Anya stands quietly against the wall, watching everything with that usual distant expression.
Finally, the door opens.
Mariska Hargitay walks in first. She’s dressed sharp — blazer, hair done, every bit the on-screen General Manager. She doesn’t greet anyone. She simply walks over to Jim Ross’s desk, leans against it, and looks over the group with a faint, amused smirk. It’s very clear she’s not here as talent. She’s here with management, and she’s enjoying this.
A few seconds later, Cowboy Watts and Joan Rivers enter.
Cowboy doesn’t sit. He stands near the door, staring at them like they’ve already wasted his time.
Cowboy Watts: (flat, cold) You were told not to show up if you weren’t booked tonight. And yet… here the fuck you are.
He lets the silence hang.
Cowboy Watts: I don’t like when people don’t listen. And I really don’t like when people waste my time on a day that’s already gone to complete shit.
The door opens again.
Butterbean walks in carrying his black duffel bag. Without saying a word, he steps into the middle of the room and starts doing slow, heavy shadow boxing right in front of the girls’ faces — not touching them, but close enough that some of them instinctively lean back.
Joan Rivers slowly walks down the line, sizing each of them up with that signature sharp, unimpressed look.
Joan Rivers: (dryly, stopping in front of Boxxy) You really thought showing up uninvited was gonna get you TV time? That’s adorable.
She moves down to Jennette.
Joan Rivers: And you. What exactly were you expecting? A last-minute miracle because you decided to grace us with your presence?
Mariska Hargitay lets out a quiet, amused breath from where she’s leaning against the desk, clearly enjoying the tension.
Cowboy Watts: (cold) You’re all gonna stand here until I decide what to do with you. And if any of you even think about causing problems tonight because you’re pissed you didn’t get booked… we’re gonna have a much bigger problem.
Butterbean keeps shadow boxing slowly in front of them, his heavy breathing filling the silence.
Cowboy lights a cigarette right there in the office and takes a long drag, staring at the group.
Cowboy Watts: Welcome to the show, ladies.
The room is dead silent after Cowboy’s last comment. He takes another drag off his cigarette and looks over the four girls — Boxxy, Jennette McCurdy, Miranda Cosgrove, and Anya Taylor-Joy.
Cowboy Watts: (flat, cold) Because you showed up here without being asked, here’s what’s gonna happen. You four are in a tag match tonight. Right after Taylor’s opening segment.
None of them look happy about it.
Cowboy Watts: And let me be real with you — nobody’s gonna give a shit. We’re not giving you video packages. We’re not giving you entrances. Everyone’s still gonna be coming down from Taylor’s segment when you go out there. So don’t expect a reaction.
He looks directly at them.
Cowboy Watts: Jennette and Miranda, you two are going over. Boxxy and Anya, you’re taking the loss.
He takes another slow drag before continuing.
Cowboy Watts: We’re doing an “escape the cage” finish… but we’re doing it in the handicap stall of the bathroom. The only way to win is to get out of the stall. Anya’s gonna escape first. But Mariska’s not gonna ring the bell.
He glances at Mariska Hargitay, who’s still leaning against the desk with that same amused look on her face.
Cowboy Watts: While Anya’s standing outside the stall, Jennette and Miranda are gonna drown Boxxy in the toilet. She’s not gonna die, but they’re gonna hold her down long enough to make it look bad. Then they’ll open the stall, drag her out, and give her CPR like they give a fuck. Once she’s breathing again, the two of them are just gonna casually walk out like nothing happened.
He looks at Anya Taylor-Joy.
Cowboy Watts: Which is gonna leave you standing there looking like a fucking coward who left her partner to get drowned in a toilet.
The room stays quiet. Boxxy looks pissed. Jennette and Miranda glance at each other but don’t say anything. Anya’s face is unreadable, but she’s clearly uncomfortable.
Mariska Hargitay lets out a small, satisfied breath through her nose, clearly enjoying the plan.
Cowboy Watts: (to the four of them) That’s your match. That’s your finish. Don’t like it? Then next time, don’t show up when you’re not supposed to be here.
He flicks his cigarette into an empty coffee cup on the desk.
Cowboy Watts: Now get the fuck out of this office and go find somewhere to be until we need you.
The bathroom is quiet this early. Cowboy Watts is finishing up at the urinal while Jim Ross washes his hands at the sink. Cowboy zips up, steps over to the sink next to JR, and turns the water on.
He keeps his voice low, just two veterans talking business before showtime.
Cowboy Watts: One hour. How we looking?
Jim Ross: (calm, drying his hands) Better than it was this morning. Tony’s here now with Wendy and Butterbean. The spray-painted circle’s down, production’s locked in the camera angles for the ice spot in the main event, and the concession stand’s already getting torn apart for Mila and Laura. We’re as ready as we can be without a real ring.
Cowboy nods, shaking the water off his hands.
Cowboy Watts: And the bathroom match?
Jim Ross: All set. Mariska’s already picked the stall. Security’s gonna keep that hallway locked down until it’s time.
Cowboy grabs a paper towel and dries his hands, then leans against the counter next to JR.
Cowboy Watts: What about those four girls we stuck in that tag match after Taylor? They behaving?
Jim Ross: They’re in your office right now with Mariska and Joan. Pissed off, but they’ll do the match. They know they brought it on themselves by showing up unbooked.
Cowboy lets out a short breath through his nose.
Cowboy Watts: Good. Long as they don’t cause any extra problems tonight, I don’t give a damn how mad they are.
He crumples the paper towel and tosses it.
Cowboy Watts: (quietly) We get through Taylor’s opening and that tag match clean, the rest of the show can be as sloppy as it needs to be. I don’t care. Just make sure the open and the main event actually look like we meant to do this without a ring.
Jim Ross: (nodding) Agreed. Everything else is just noise at this point.
Cowboy glances at JR.
Cowboy Watts: You good?
Jim Ross: I’m good. You?
Cowboy Watts: (after a short pause) I will be once that first bell rings.
He claps JR lightly on the shoulder.
Cowboy Watts: Let’s get back out there.
The two of them head toward the door, keeping it low-key — just two old hands quietly going over last-minute details one hour before doors.
