The scene begins today with Alicia and Dorito standing in a wrestling ring in some gym. A few random items lay cluttered around in the ring, like a somewhat pressed-in metal trash can, some video game controllers, some blue kickboxing dummy, and a red-and-yellow plastic tricycle. Alicia wears some silver pants with green barbwire going down the side, and a black D-Generation Y t-shirt. Dorito stands with a steel chair in hand, looking at a sweaty Alicia.

Alicia: Hit me!

Dorito: Have you lost your mind?

Alicia: No. I know what I'm doing, and if I can toughen up more than just my back, then...

Dorito: Yeah, yeah. I know. You don't have to explain this hardcore garbage wrestling to me. I've been in hardcore title matches before, streetfights, hell in the cell, steel cage, no disqualifications, whatever. And this is a steel chair, not some inflatable baseball bat or pillow.

Alicia: It doesn't make a difference to me. Mystika has almost twenty pounds on me and a couple of inches. First Womens' champ, former tag team champ, and has the cruiserweight title. She's held that title for two months now and has yet to defend the title. Heck, from what I read in the title history, she has never successfully defended a title before. I wish I could get my hands on some old video tape of those title matches to see if there's any reason for losing those titles. You know, we could just go to a grocery store sunday morning and get some oranges. Then take them to the arena and dice them up and use them as bait, like a doggy treat, where if she just lays on her back, then she could have not just one, but all of them.

Dorito: What the hell kind of stupid-ass idea is that?! Going to get some oranges and cutting them up to give them all to her? And I don't get any?! Screw that!

Alicia: Alright, alright, we'll get some extra, just for you.

Dorito: No, she gets nothing! Nothing! Not one whole orange. Not even a slice. Not even a single drop of that pure insecticide enriched will touch that wicked tongue of hers. The closest she'll come to that orange juice is when she's sucking on my...

Alicia: Oh that's enough. You just make sure that Joel guy doesn't get involved.

Dorito: You suffer a case of amnesia or something when I DDT'd you earlier?

Alicia: No, now shut up and hit me with the damn chair.

Dorito: You might want to wait until after sunday to get your brains thrown into a blender.

Alicia: Or you could use your prideless balls and hit me with the chair.

Dorito: Sure you wouldn't want to go surfing or something later instead? Or go blading like ten miles or so along the beach? You know, some sort of activity that you have to be conscious to do.

Alicia: Or how about you quit yer yappin and hit me with the chair before I kick you in the face with it? Dorito: Just hold on. I read that they've already spent $600 billion on the war on terrorism in just the past two years, and what makes even less sense, is only three billion has been spent on the hiring and training of new terrorist fighters. And the number should reach over a trillion by this time next year, and not even five billion dollars spent on more employees or training, total. And you gotta think that with the unemployment rate being the highest it's been in decades, couldn't they just hire some of these people?

Alicia: It would drop the unemployment rate and with how much government employees make, over a course of a year or two, the economy would stabilize and things go back to the way it was before Bush took office.

Dorito: Threat Matrix debuts tonight, piece of crap homeland security propaganda for Ashcroft. Like for decades and decades, there have been documentaries, television shows, movies about UFOs and aliens. Producing it so much that it makes people desynsitized and believe that it's not real. Billions of stars, billions of planets, the chance that Earth is the only planet in millions of universes and multiple dimensions, is so small and minute, it's improbable. Not to mention that this planet has seen global killer asteroids six times in it's few billion years? And whatever species always evolves? Tell the people over and over and over again from childhood to adulthood and they believe you, although their religion also negates it, but the Earth isn't the center of the universe is it? Science prevails over fiction time and time again. And like Michael Moore said, we live in fictious times, with a fictious president, involved with a fictious war, for fictious reasons.

Alicia: Why didn't you run for governor of California?

Dorito: Gary Coleman even ran for it. It wouldn't have mattered anyways. Look at the total recall vote they're doing. I guess they just didn't have the person they wanted to win, win. The end is near.

Alicia: The end is near for people who like freedom. Patriot Acts one and two being put into force, you're soon to be arrested and deported for just being you, and Mystika's title reign is about to come to an end. And soon after this sunday, the 3WL tag league is said to begin, and I need a partner.

Dorito: It's certainly been awhile since I had tag team gold around this luscious waist. Nobody can beat me, or us.

Alicia: Except that it's women only, bro.

Dorito: Women only? Gender sexist this company is. But it doesn't matter, because I'm a former NCW Womens champion, remember, sis? So by all rights, I should be allowed. Come on, we're innovation, in it's newest form. Every move we come up with gets ripped off and imitated. And it's not right because we're the pirates of professional wrestling. We fight, we win, we plunder. That's how it's supposed to go. And that it is how it indeed does go, but our moves get copied and duplicated like mp3s spreading on the 'net. Although it is said that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but it would be nice if people just did these moves right! Or not at all so people see the right way it's to be done.

Alicia: Are you gonna hit me today or are you just too scared to with that chair? Or are you just too scared that I won't get you anything for your birthday on monday?

Dorito: I'm not scared.

Alicia: Sure you are. Wuss.

Dorito: Am not.

Alicia: Wussy.

Dorito: I am not.

Alicia: Wussssy!

Dorito: Am not!

Alicia: And you really shouldn't be eating donuts. Not good for you.

Dorito: You mean by orange cake donuts with the orange frosting and star sprinkles?

Alicia: Yeah, I threw them out.

Dorito screams as he suddenly swings the chair over his head, blasting Alicia in the top of the head, laying her out on the mat where she lays motionless, unconscious.

Dorito: DAMN YOU!!! I was gonna eat those! ...Alicia? Alicia? You conscious?

He throws the chair down beside her body.

Dorito: Well, this is what you wanted. Hey, are you okay? What am I asking that for? She's not saying no, so she must be. So I'll see you later sis, you uh, uhh, you just lay there and sleep, or roll over to the apron or something. I'm gonna go run on the treadmill for a bit. You just get some sleep before your big match sunday.

He walks to the ropes and steps between them, dropping to his feet outside the ring, as several other people are stretching out and training. He begins walking away from the ring, leaving her laying as the scene fades out.