Thurston: “Ya know, for a little shit, you sure eat a lot… I’m not paying to feed you.”

Ace: “Hey bro, how are you… oh, looking at you can answer that question… you look like hell warmed over.”

Thurston: “So, what you’re saying is, I look better than you do on an average day?”

Ace: “Yeah, sure, whatever you say…”

Thurston: “Anyways, you saw the matches last night, you saw how rough they were…”

Ace: “Aye, that explains your shoulder being taped up, and all those bandages…”

Thurston: “Yeah, that little bitch Daher giving me the smackdown through the table didn’t exactly make my night… Oh yeah, he’ll pay for that one.”

Ace: “… But what about the limp? You were walking fine last night…”

Thurston Laughs: “Oh yeah, that… well, you know, Missy was jumping up and down last night and landed on my knee, bruised it bad… It’ll be fine after a day or so, though, just really sore… And, uh, where are the key’s to the Benz?”

Ace: “No way bro, you didn’t…”

Thurston: “Oh, your ass knows I did…”

Ace: “You got to be shitting me, nailing both of them in one night? After two matches?”

Thurston: “If you doubt me, go ask them yourself.”

Ace: “I’ll catch them later… I’m in the middle of breakfast.”

Thurston: “I think the crowd appreciated them last night… definitely a better visual aide than that slut that Maher and Craig brought out with them.”

Ace: “She wasn’t that bad looking…”

Thurston: “She’s probably crap in bed, which would explain why she’s hooked up with those needle-dicks, not good enough for steeds such as ourselves…”

Ace just shakes his head as Thurston wanders over to the table which, despite the late hour, is still well stocked with food. A minute later, he wanders back with a tray laden with fruits and bagels, a bowl of cereal, and a good half-dozen large glasses of orange juice. He sits down, and the brothers stay there and eat in silence for a moment

Ace: “Think you impressed the boss last night?”

Thurston: “Which one, Fury or Storm? After that crap last night, I can’t tell who’s in charge… I’ll tell you, when I take over businesses, I don’t do it half-assed like Storm did, for me, it’s always clear who’s in charge… I’m sure I must have impressed someone, at least my opponents, with that performance.”

Ace: “Seriously… That was only your second match as a single, and you gave “The Icon,” the guy who is supposedly the only Falconer that matters, a very good run for the belt… Hell, he’s been around for a while, nearly a year, and he nearly lost to you, and you’ve been around for what, 2 weeks?”

Thurston: “Almost isn’t good enough though… I’ll have the belt soon, don’t worry about that… Where did that little bitch come from, anyways? I knew he was under contract, but I had never seen him around.”

Ace: “Did you catch his post match ramblings?”

Thurston: “Did I? Of course, I recorded them and went back through them, trying to get a clue about who exactly he is… he’s right in saying that his fans deserve a better champion, like me… And what’s this shit about not wrestling two matches in one night? How the hell does he think he won the title? That was my second match of the night, and even I’ll admit that I wasn’t at one-hundred percent… and he still had difficulty beating me.”

Ace: “Calm down there, bro… You going to sign up to take him on for the belt?”

Thurston: “We’ll see… I don’t know why I should, I proved I was better than all the other Falconers, I deserve the first shot at that belt… of course, Storm’s lackeys, Sexton and Jackson, will probably get the chance before I do, you know how things work in business, it’s who you know, not how good you truly are.”

They lapse into silence again, a busboy comes over to clear away the empty platewear

Busboy: “Oh, cool, I know you, you’re Thurston Marshall, aren’t you?”

Thurston raises an eyebrow at the boy: “Yeah, that’s me…”

Busboy: “You were awesome last night… you know, I was a fan of The Icon for so long, but after last night, I’m definitely cheering you on man… you were, like, so extreme. You almost beat him, and that was your second match of the night…”

Thurston: “That’s true, my brother and I were just discussing that… so you were cheering for Daher last night?”

Busboy: “Well, yeah, but not anymore…”

Thurston: “Why not?”

Busboy: “Because he is an arrogant, clichéd little pussy.”

Thurston: “That’s a bit blunt…”

Busboy: “Can I have your autograph?”

Thurston grumbles at this but when the busboy produces a pad of paper and a pen, Thurston obliges him. The busboy smiles and thanks him, collects the empty plates, bowls and glasses, and wanders off to continue about his job.

Ace: “So what is Daher ‘The Icon’ of, anyways? I have yet to figure that out.”

Thurston: “I couldn’t tell you… Why not ask him?”

Ace: “Heh, yeah right… so what did you think of that bullshit at the end of the show last night, anyways?”

Thurston: “What, Storm gaining control and the Midnight Syndicate and all that?”

Ace: “Well, there wasn’t much else at the end…”

Thurston tosses a half-eaten apple at Ace, who ducks it.

Thurston: “Smartass… I don’t know, it seems to be that it’s just another lame-ass attempt at creating an inter-fed feud, between us and the FWF… But this Midnight Syndicate, they say that they are invading both the GWA and the FWF, that they are the elite… yeah sure, I’ve wiped more elite things off my ass after taking a dump. Bringing back fading stars to try and breath more life into the federation… that sounds like a WWF storyline, you know, a run-down wrestler who has less mat skills than Andy Kaufman gaining half-control of the company and being at war with the other half-owner…”

Ace: “Didn’t the WCW do something like this as well?”

Thurston: “Yeah, and you saw what it got them, bad ratings and eventually getting bought out. I’m really rethinking my ideas of trying to buy-out the GWA… It looks like a bad investment right now. But anyhow, back to the Midnight Syndicate… It doesn’t surprise me that Grimes went over, he’s just your everyday schizophrenic psychopath… Chris Cane is a gutless wonder, he just goes for who is in power… Sexton and Jackson surprised me a bit, though, I figured they would have a little more pride than to be associated with Ranma and Storm. Too bad for them, because you know that when you side with a group that will eventually self-destruct, you usually end up out of work…”

Ace: “I feel bad for Ashram though… They really made a symbol out of him, didn’t they?”

Thurston: “Well, don’t feel bad for him, he is just as mentally weak as all of the members of the Syndicate.”

Ace: “So who are you going to side with, the Syndicate or the rest of the GWA?”

Thurston smiles a sly grin: “We’ll just have to wait and see about that, won’t we?”

He devours the rest of an orange and drops it in the bowl. He stands up and stretches out

Thurston: “Well, that was a pleasant breakfast… I’m going to head back to the room, come grab me in a few hours so we can get headed back to the mansion…”

Ace: “A few hours?”

Thurston: “That’s what I said… Missy and Alice are waiting… time for me to get some dessert.”

Ace shakes his head as Thurston turns and walks out.