Can you believe some people visit Las Vegas and just go to the Applebee’s?
That’s where we are now, where the ever popular not-so-lovely SUZIE is working the bar. She is wiping the tourist grime off the beer glasses, cracked lips dragging off yet another Pall Mall, dead eyes lost to space…
Suddenly, the most AMAZING Tag Team Champions of “Classique” Wrestling – CARLO and GOMEZ AMARETTO – materialize on the other side of the bar two purple plumes of smoke.
Carlo & Gomez: SUZIE!!
She blinks. They don’t look happy.
Carlo: INCORRIGIBLE FEMALE!! You are needed back at the SANCTUM SLAMTORUM!!
Gomez: Have you forgotten that we are set for a battle of EPIQUE proportions at CAPITAL CLASH? We need to prepare for those infernal SURF EXPRESS BUFFOONS!
She gives them a not-so-lovely eye roll.
Suzie: Eh, whatevah. I still got another hour until my shift is up…
The Amaretto brothers unstrap their Tag Team Championships from around their waists and set them on the bar before seating themselves. Suzie serves up their favored cocktails. You guessed it: twin Amaretto Sours. Gomez’s with an olive, for some reason.
Suzie: Look, when I took up this magic wrestling whatevah gig of yours, I made it very clear that two other things always come first: my kid, and my other job. This place is my real moneymaker, ya know…
Clearly that is the case, as suggested by the two singles and fifteen cents left in her tip jar.
Carlo: Daft woman! Material wealth isn’t important… but MAGIC IS! And the preservation of our MAGICAL REIGN as Tag Team Champions is what’s at stake here! What could POSSIBLY be more important than THAT!?
Gomez: Need we remind you where you were when we found you? A little place called Frisky Freddie’s FOX-HOUSE?!
Suzie’s face darkens as the brothers dredge up some uncomfortable memories. It’s a rare moment when we see a slight hint of emotion in her face.
Suzie: …yeh, I ain’t forgot about Frisky Freddie’s… youse don’t hafta be assholes ‘bout it.
She turns her back on the brothers, continuing to wipe down the glasses. Carlo and Gomez fall silent and look at one another. This is clearly more serious than they anticipated.
Carlo: Suzie… we didn’t want to have to say this, but… we’re coming to you on our KNEES here!
Gomez: We… we need you for this, Suzie! The whole act DEPENDS on you!
Carlo: I mean, we are the stars of the show – OBVIOUSLY – but every set of two wheels cannot roll without a solid axle between them!
Gomez: And that’s YOU, Suzie! Our GLITTERING, GOLDEN AXEL! So please, Suzie… HELP US! Help us to ROLL OVER these HIPPIES in the most AMAZING trouncing the world has ever seen!
After a beat, she turns around again.
Suzie: …eh, fine. This place is borin’ me anyhow.
Two snaps and…
She rematerializes from a cloud of purple smoke between the twins. Gone is the black Applebee’s polo. She is fully adorned in her gilded showgirl outfit and tiara, looking like a queen.
…a haggard, nicotine-stained queen.
Suzie: Whadda we got planned for these Surf Express Bums?
Carlo: We have a BRILLIANT exercise in mind! One that will sharpen our AMAZING talents in psychic focus and hand-eye coordination!
Gomez: First, we strap you upon a giant spinning wheel… THEN, we throw sharp knives and meat cleavers daringly close to your extremities… all while blindfolded!
Carlo: Not to worry, though… our MAGICAL PROWESS will guide our aim!
Gomez: You’ll be PERFECTLY safe! I mean… maybe.
Suzie lets out a long, labored sigh, and lights up another cigarette.
Suzie: Okay, whatevah… I got one request, though.
Gomez: ANYTHING, Suzie!
Suzie: Soon as we kick these surfer boys’ asses… I wanna bigger role in the act.
The brothers’ nearly indistinguishable faces freeze into forced smiles.
Carlo: …a bigger… role?
Gomez: Why… of course! I’m certain we could arrange something.
Suzie: Swell! Then I’ll be waiting in the Corolla…
Carlo and Gomez watch her closely as she leaves. They wait until the door is shut behind her before immediately turning to each other.
Carlo: Gomez, I fear that she may be getting a tad… ambitious!
Gomez: Don’t worry, Carlo… after our AMAZING triumph at Capital Clash, we’ll remind that detestable wench of her place.
Wearing matching sinister grins, the Amarettos tap their cocktail glasses and quietly enjoy an evil chuckle.