The scene begins today with Dorito sitting on the floor, leaning back against the wooden spaced-fencing separating the dining room and the entrance way, while Alicia sits before him, leaning back against the back of the couch.
Alicia: Do you ever get the feeling that everything happens for a reason? Like when you do a series of events only to have it go where you did not want it to, the consequence of your series of choices do not lead to what you want it to be? And you think back upon something that you did, that you wish you had done something else, or somehow altered the effect of the cause, it would lead to a completely different path, perhaps a different ending.
Dorito: You sound like you're talking about fate.
Alicia: Perhaps. Maybe I am.
Dorito: But if you believe in fate, then perhaps you also believe in God as well, perhaps you don't. But fate means that everything is pre-ordained, pre-planned, scripted, it's supposed to happen. Everything happens for a reason. If you believe that, then you must also consider what that means.
Alicia: And what would that be?
Dorito: That you're not real. You may think you are, but your "thinking" that you think you are is pre-planned, is simple showing of thus. If you were going to write a program of life, you would want to make sure to throw in an algorithym to make sure that is taken care of, should a player ever come across that "IF" question. A program made with perfectual design would be flawless and have borders. Of course it's limited capabilities hinder the greater of the users, and the mind acts as a debugger, seeking ways to break the program, to hack the matrix. So of course there will always be some sort of hole, created by those who wrote it, so that they may be able to get back in, should they ever be locked out from it. But that's program, not fate, or is it? Perhaps it was fate that lead the creators into wanting future access for themselves that they made it with a small pin-hole size security hole in an ocean of zeros and ones. Fate, it seems, is not without a sense of irony.
Alicia: Soooo...what exactly are you saying now?
Dorito: Fate is scripted, thusly the idea that God makes everything happen for a reason, or why the Oracle knows all. If your thoughts and actions are scripted, then you never made the choice, nor the thought or performed the action because you really wanted to. You performed the action and had the thought because you were supposed to. It was a programmed command. Thusly you don't exist. You mean nothing.
Alicia: So how could you believe in fate if you don't exist?
Dorito: Almost there.
Alicia: Huh?
Dorito: I would say exactly, but it would not be correct. Because if you did exist and did believe in fate, then it would be somewhat of a confliction with the basic conception that fate is the result of our actions, an excuse for our causes.
Alicia: I kinda understand, but not too well. But you're saying that I'm using fate as an excuse for me losing the match in the tag league finals? That if I had tagged in Dusti instead of going after Vixen, or just done something else after that moment, or something different before that moment, then everything could have been altered, perhaps.
Dorito: No, that's what you said.
Alicia: But then if fate is real, and us being here right now, having this discussion about it, is supposed to happen, then my belief of perhaps making a mistake in a match was actually the way it was supposed to happen, thusly it was not a mistake at all when I could use the excuse of it being a mistake which would conflict with belief in fate?
Dorito: Sorta.
Alicia: Sorta? Sorta? How is that sorta?
Dorito: Because, the belief of making a mistake while taking part in a world run by fate, would use that "IF" statement in the program to take care of the problem. IF this, THEN do this, ELSE that, do this, END IF. Simple...really basic programming.
Alicia: Hmmm...I guess if I could maybe get a rematch with Stiles and Vixen, perhaps the second result could be different.
Dorito: Perhaps.
Alicia: Sarah knows what she's doing, I'm sure there's a lot that I could learn from her. And with the fourway this friday...
Dorito suddenly turns his head, sensing something.
Dorito: You hear that?
Alicia: Hear what?
He pushes himself off the floor, turning about as he goes down the step and grabs the door-handle, twisting to pull the door open, and walks outside. There the engine to a white car is shut off as Dorito walks toward the passenger side, and opens the door to find Molly smiling.
Molly: Well aren't you of the gentlemanly type today?
Dorito: Anything for a beautiful lady.
Christy is seen walking around the front of the car, and stopping as she comes up to them.
Christy: So what are you trying to say? That I'm not beautiful, so that's why you didn't open my door? Or is it because you've got this huge crush on Molly?
Molly: It's alright Christy, he probably does like me. And what's so bad about that? I bet half of that promotion that Alicia wrestles for would do what they could to fuck me, or be a rat for me.
Christy: So is there some reason you ran out here once we pulled up, or was it just for Molly?
Dorito: Uhhh...
Christy: Look at him Moll', he's so stunned from staring at your boobs that he can't even think.
Molly: I guess if I wanted to I could ruffle around and take his wallet right now and he wouldn't mind.
Christy: Yeah, how many guys wouldn't when you look like us? But so D, Alicia up to anything inside?
Dorito: Oh umm, blabbing about wrestling again.
Molly: She could've sooo taken them. A rematch would be pretty good without a shot at the tag titles on the line, maybe just pride or for a good challenge. Think that Sarah chick is horribly scarred underneath that mask?
Christy: Takes guts to be in the US and wrestling under a mask on an international promotion.
Voice: That's for sure.
Molly, having gotten out of the car, turns her head as Christy turns around to look at Alicia, while Dorito just continues looking down at Molly.
Alicia: When I see Stiles and Vixen backstage at Clash, I'm going to ask them for a rematch in the future. Not just for me and Dusti, but because I think the crowd would like to see another match.
Christy: Good. Just walk up to her and ask for a rematch. And if she says no, get her phone number and give it to Dorito.
Alicia: That won't do him much good since he doesn't even know how to use a phone.
Dorito: (Looking at Molly) So, what have you been up to?
She looks at him.
Molly: Oh we went out to look at the house burned down, walked around through some of the rubbage, then went to talk to some insurance people. Or more like Christy did while I just sat around listening to them talk and say words that I can't even say, too many syllables, hehe. Then we went looking at a couple of new places to live.
A red car pulls up to the curb at the house next door and comes to a stop. The door opens and some guy gets out, carrying some big sign with him as he walks toward the house.
Alicia: And Mystika came back, so this friday should be really, really interesting, considering I don't even have to get pinned to lose the title. But with Heather Burnside and Dante Chylde in the match, a lot can happen.
Christy: Could just have Dorito eating orange donuts or whatever at ringside and that would take Mystika out of the match as she'd be out there fighting him over them.
Alicia: Hahaha.
Dorito turns to look over at Christy and Alicia.
Dorito: I heard that. And why would I bring orange caked donuts out there knowing full well that she's going to want some? It'd be endangering the orange cream-filled donuts with orange-colored frosting. None shall be wasted! I remember the time that Typhon...
Alicia: Stop right there! I remember the speech full well, I've heard the story a hundred times this year alone.
Molly: Story? Go on, I haven't heard it.
Dorito: Well, it's from the first annual NCW Awards show, and I had just won the Most Bumps award, and I should have been nominated for the Newest Sensation award as well as it was my first year in the business, wrestling wise. And I couldn't have done it myself, well, I could have, but then it would have looked kinda weird as I would've been beating myself up and throwing myself into the ground repeatedly. I started out in NCW as the first ever Television champion. Then I did a few things, and totally kicked rear in the first ever NCW pay-per-view, Unforgiven. And I have a few stories to tell you about that hectic day indeed. First I showed up and discovered that the orange-flavored donuts had been eaten all by Typhon. So I went to Hitman and he just shrugged his shoulders telling me there was nothing he could do. Then I went to a pop can machine to get some orange soda to find out that it was all sold out. So I went back to Hitman again and he told me there was nothing he can do, and that I should just drink grape cause it's "grapy". And I was like, grape? I mean...come on, grape? So I left his office and went in search for some orange fruit only to find out that they were all gone, eaten by that damn Typhon. Who did he think he was and what was his fascination with orange? So I went up to him and told him to give back all the orange stuff he ate and drank, and here's what he did...he just looked at me, then he turned away. So I told him who I was and that I was the next NCW world champion, which we all know didn't happen. And it's all Typhon's fault. All cause that damn goof had to eat all my energy which in turn prevented me from performing to the best of my ability and losing the main event. But where's he now huh? Wrestling in some independent fed, loser. And I hope he's watching on television to see me standing there with that award and him sitting on some couch all fat and stuff. But anyway, next on the agenda is the night D-Generation Y reformed. Now the day before I was sick with diahrea and I had eaten about a hundred and twenty carrots on a bet from Dranth that I couldn't do it. But boy did I prove him wrong. I'm not sure exactly how many I ate as he seemingly lost count around a hundred on four separate occasions! So I had to go to the bathroom a lot and I think Dranth and Matt Helmsley were sticking some anchovies or something into my orange soda while I was on the toilet, and that some of these carrots had to have been cooked in beans or hot sauce or something. Cause boy I tell you that poop of mine was coming out orange for the next few days. And I tell you it wasn't easy in that match winning the tag team titles. And I'm sure Dranth, Dritz, Matt, and the entire front row could attest that it was definitely a "stinky" match. But hey, we won the tag team titles so all in all I say it was well worth it. Oh, and this one time, and this was a couple weeks after Sonic brought Kylie in as his manager, that bitch walked in on me while I was "polishing the wood" and I think she got pretty turned on. Not sure what all the laughing was about though.
Alicia: Oh the torture...someone please make this end.
Dorito: And I guess I can't really attest to having much luck with the ladies. I read all these Seventeen and Tiger Beat magazines and what girls want, and they all want exactly the same. Some sensitive nice guy that will listen to what they have to say rather than trying to plan their next move. And let me just inform you people, I don't have a second move. Hell, I don't even have a first move. And I'm a nice guy and all, but why can't I get a single piece of action? I mean there's got to be something wrong when a prostitute pays you twenty bucks to go away. And who here likes pie? I know I do. Especially orangeberry pie.
Christy: Orangeberry pie?
Molly: Uhhh...
Dorito: It's pretty good. Don't know why you can usually find it so much around the holidays and not much at any other time of the year, puzzles the mind you know.
Alicia: That's pumpkin pie you idiot!
Dorito: Now I know a lot of people prefer Cherry's pie...I mean cherry pie, but Orangeberry just tastes great. Especially with the perfect topping...orange marinade with melted cheese!
Christy: I think I'm gonna hurl.
Alicia: Not around me. I'm going inside.
Christy: Me too.
They walk off, leaving Dorito to continue telling his story to Molly.
Dorito: Then some guy behind the camera starts pointing to his watch and I take notice. And I think I'm being called for time. Or maybe it's time for everyone to go to the pool. I dunno, the guy was an idiot. But then I think should probably thank a few people. First, a gave lot of thanks to Matt Helmsley, because without him drilling me into the ground over and over and over again, with several concussions to boast, I think I never would've had a chance at the award. And I doubt that anyone would've voted the Radical Ride as best finishing move when everyone clearly knows that the Supersonic Assassination is Armageddon. So then I was like, Matt, this one's for you. I'm probably gonna have to spraypaint this trophy a real color though, who wants gold when you can have orange? And speaking of orange, let me tell you about the day of Unforgiven. I showed up to the arena to find that all the orange-flavored donuts had been eaten by Typhon...
The scene flips inside the house, with Alicia and Christy looking out the window in the dining room.
Alicia: Find any place to live, Christy?
The guy next door walks back to his car, getting back in, as they notice a "For Sale" sign on the front lawn.
Christy: Wow, our home burning down and you taking us in, and now the house next door is for sale, talk about fate.
Alicia suddenly turns to look at Christy, who continues looking out to see Molly just nodding her head as she looks down at her wrist, where there is no watch, as the scene fades out.
