Strike Three. You're out!

The scene opens in the lounge area of Ruben Ricardo León's Texas house. Ruben is sat on the couch, with the IWF Championship laid out on the coffee table in front of him. He is sitting with his head in his hands and appears to be in some distress about something. He lifts his head up out of his hands and looks at the title belt in front of him for a few seconds.

Ruben Ricardo León: Not like this...

The door to the house opens and Ruben's girlfriend, Maria, walks in. She removes her jacket and places it, along with the other things she was carrying on one of the counters along the wall. Ruben doesn't even notice that she has walked in as he continues to stare at the belt in front of him. After sorting herself out, Maria turns around and notices him sat on the couch.

Maria: Oh, hey honey, what's up?

Ruben fails to acknowledge Maria's presence in the room.

Maria: Ruben? Ruben are you listening?

When she doesn't get a response a second time she walks over to the couch and looks at Ruben for a few seconds before sitting down next to him. This seems to do the trick as he is snapped out of his trance. He turns to look at her.

Ruben Ricardo León: Oh, hey baby.

Maria: Ruben, are you alright?

Ruben waves a hand dismissively at her.

Ruben Ricardo León: Oh, yeah, I'm fine. It's nothing.

Maria raises an eyebrow.

Maria: Don't give me that shit, Ruben. I know you well enough to know when something's bothering you, and completely failing to notice me when I walk in the room, remove an item of clothing then talk to you twice with no response is pretty much the classic sign.

Ruben lowers his head.

Ruben Ricardo León: Oh...

Maria: So tell me what is up before I beat it out of you.

Ruben Ricardo León: Me winning the belt the way I did...it just doesn't feel right.

Maria: What do you mean? Do you feel that cashing in the briefcase was a dishonourable way of winning the belt?

Ruben Ricardo León: No, not that. I knew I was going to have to do that eventually. Anyway, it's not like I didn't earn my shot. I worked damn hard to get that belt and beat some tough opponents along the way. For me, that balances out the cheapness of cashing it in when your opponent has just been fucked up. It's what happened afterwards that's bugging me.

Maria: Why?

Ruben Ricardo León: What if... what if I'm responsible for putting Brandon in the hospital? What if he's fighting for his life because of me? No title belt is worth possibly ending a man's life for. The old Ruben might have thought that, but not now. If...if he dies, I don't know if I could live that on my conscience...

Maria places her arms around Ruben and hugs him tightly.

Maria: Oh, hunny, don't worry about it. Brandon had taken a huge overdose of heroin and had just taken a beating from Jason Hawk. He was already well on the road to hospital. What you did probably didn't help, but you can't blame yourself. You've wanted to win a World Championship since you were a kid. This is your dream come true. Enjoy it.

Ruben Ricardo León: I want to...but...

Ruben looks away and sighs.

Ruben Ricardo León: You know what? You're right.

Maria: I always am. Come on, let's get to bed. It's getting late, and I want to be pinned by the World Champion...

Maria stands up and brushes her hand suggestively across Ruben's shoulder, before winking at him and striding off in the direction of the bedroom. Ruben, suddenly having forgotten his troubles, gets up and scrambles over the couch after her.



Greed - Huge show of respect there. Brandon knows how long it's taken Ruben to beat him, and he knows what it means to him.

Cornell - Respect my ass. Brandon doesn't even know where he is right now

Brandon suddenly falls forward and hits the ground hard. Ruben rolls Brandon over and starts talking to him. Suddenly, Ruben leans down and holds his ear close to Brandon's mouth. He immediately begins to yell and motion backstage.

Greed - What the fuck?

Ruben throws the title aside and begins to deliver CPR to Brandon, who is lying on his back, not moving. A medical team rushes out and pushes Ruben aside. They continue delivering CPR to Brandon, who is unresponsive. 

Cornell - I don't think Brandon is breathing.

Greed - This doesn't look good at all

Alison Williams runs out from backstage, followed quickly by James Macdonald and his girlfriend. Anna Macdonald runs out after them. They all slide into the ring and surround the paramedics. James wraps his arms around Anna, who is desperately trying to get to Brandon.

Cornell - I thought Brandon and Anna split up? And isn't James on Showtime?

Greed - Yeah, he must have sped over here after his match. Showtime's only twenty minutes away. And I heard that Anna was talking to management about collecting her final paycheck. That's why she's here. It must be bad if she's out here.

An ambulance begins to back down the entrance ramp. The medical team quickly pick up Brandon's limp body and place it on a stretcher. They wheel it over to the ambulance, and place his body inside of it. The medics climb inside, along with Alison, James, Keagan and Anna, and shut the doors. The ambulance begins to drive off into the back

Greed - Ladies and gentlemen. I think Brandon Macdonald has....has died.



The scene has now changed to Ruben's bedroom. The room is dark and he and Maria are lying in bed. Maria is naked and asleep on her stomach, the bedsheets covering the lower half of her body. She is snoring gently. Ruben is also asleep. After a few seconds he jerks awake.

Ruben Ricardo León: I know what Maria said is true, so why can't I stop feeling the way I do about what happened to Brandon? Why can't I stop feeling as if this is my fault? I think...I think I have to go see him in the hospital.

Ruben gets out of bed and pulls on his pants as Maria stirs slightly.

Maria: Where you going baby?

Ruben Ricardo León: Just...just to get a drink. Go back to sleep.

Ruben finishes dressing and and throws a jacket on before leaving the bedroom and closing the door quietly behind him.




We now see the outside of a hospital, early in the morning. There are lots of lights on in the building that are shining a pale sickly glow on the forecourt as it merges with the natural light. A taxi pulls up in front and the back door opens as Ruben Ricardo León gets out of the car and pays the driver. As the car speeds off, Ruben looks up at the big, imposing building in front of him. He takes a deep breath and walks forward towards the hospital. Just as he is about to enter his cellphone rings and he stops, reaches in to his pocket and answers it.

Maria: WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!

Ruben Ricardo León: ...in the kitchen getting a drink?

Maria: You went to the hospital, didn't you?

Ruben Ricardo León: ...no.

Maria: I don't believe you, Ruben, you said you were OK with things! How could you go down there?

Ruben Ricardo León: I...just think it might help me get over this.

Maria sighs in frustration.

Maria: Fine, but when it blows up in your face, I'm gonna be right there to say I told you so.

Maria hangs up the phone on the other end and Ruben takes his phone away from his ear and replaces it in his pocket. Taking another deep breath he walks through the revolving door. The inside of the reception is chaos with patients milling around and nurses and doctors running around between wards.

Ruben pushes his way through the crowd to the reception desk where a woman is idly filing her nails. She looks up and gives Ruben a disapproving stare.

Receptionist: Yeah?

Ruben Ricardo León: Uhh, I'm here to see Brandon Macdonald. Could you tell me what ward he's in?

Receptionist: It's 5.20am. Visiting hours don't start until 10am.

Ruben Ricardo León: Please. I'm a family friend. I've travelled for like 4 hours to see him. It's really important that I can see him.

The receptionist rolls her eyes and looks at Ruben.

Receptionist: Ward 23, 3rd floor. He's in Room number 2.

Ruben Ricardo León: How did you... how did you know that off the top of your head?

Receptionist: I've been working here for 15 years and Brandon Macdonald is the first celebrity that's been treated here since I started. Of course I'm gonna know where he is.

Ruben Ricardo León: Well, thanks.

As the receptionist goes back to filing her nails Ruben walks off in the direction of the elevators.



The scene switches to the interior of Brandon Macdonald's room. Brandon is in the bed, connected to lots of tubes and monitors whilst sat next to him in a big armchair is his wife, Anna. There is a soft beeping noise coming from the heart monitor every second or so and the room is bathed in a green and red glow as lights and screens on the various devices continue to monitor the patient. She is half dozing and half trying to read a book when there is a knock on the door. She raises her head from the book.

Anna Macdonald: Come in.

The door opens and Ruben walks in looking a little sheepish. Anna looks surprised.

Anna Macdonald: Ruben... Wha..what are you doing here?

Ruben Ricardo León: I came to see Brandon. I wasn't expecting to see you here after everything that has happened.

Anna Macdonald: Brandon and I have...been through a lot in the last few months and it has been very tough at times, but...it's Brandon. No-one else was going to sit here with him whilst he was like this.

Ruben Ricardo León: Well...I have to say I am impressed with your commitment. After the way Brandon treated you, you have every right to just leave him to rot.

Anna Macdonald: Brandon and I have been through a lot together over the years. I couldn't let him go through this alone.

Ruben Ricardo León: Look...there was another reason I came...

Anna Macdonald: I figured... You and Brandon have never exactly been the best of friends, and I know you live in Texas. You didn't travel across two states to come and see a guy who you've never really got on with. Especially when he's in a coma.

Ruben Ricardo León: Good point...

Ruben moves further in to the room.

Ruben Ricardo León: I...I want to apologise. To Brandon, and...well, to you. Honestly, I wasn't expecting you to be here. This probably would have been easier to say if I had only had to say it to someone who I knew wasn't going to respond...

Anna Macdonald: I don't understand. What do you think you have to apologise for?

Ruben Ricardo León: I feel like what I did when I cashed in the briefcase may have been the reason Brandon is in the state he is in right now. I want to apologise for that. I knew Brandon was fucked up, and, well, I took my chance anyway.

Anna looks at Ruben for a moment before shifting her weight slightly in the chair.

Anna Macdonald: Ruben. Brandon has been in a pretty bad way recently. As you know he's been abusing heroin and other drugs. I thought he had it under control but not long ago I found out that he had lost it. The night you cashed in your briefcase, Brandon had taken more heroin than I've ever known anyone to take. He knew in his own head that he wasn't right to compete, but he did anyway. That's no-one's fault but his own.

Sure, getting kicked around the ring by you and Jason probably didn't help matters but it was his decision to get jacked up before going out and fighting and nobody elses. Don't blame yourself. I don't. And I know Brandon wouldn't either.

Look, Ruben. You and Brandon have had some bad times in the past and for my part I've tried to stay out of it. That aside, I know that you aren't a bad guy, and I know that you wouldn't go out with the deliberate intention of putting anyone in a coma. You have nothing to apologise for.

Ruben Ricardo León: Thanks, Anna. That means a lot. Do you mind if I stick around for a bit? It took a long time to get here so I might as well make the most of it.

Anna Macdonald: Please do. Honestly I could do with the company right now. Brandon's not much of a talker these days.

Ruben laughs and Anna smiles, as the scene fades out.



Ruben Ricardo León: I'm sorry, Dan, maybe I hadn't introduced myself properly. I'm Ruben Ricardo León, the IWF Champion. No, wait. YOUR IWF Champion. Recognise me now? Now let me ask YOU a question. Who the fuck do you think YOU are?

Dan, apparently you don't know shit about me, because if you did, you'd know that I'm a multi-time Mexican national champion. You'd know that since I started my career in the US I have won matches against the likes of Corey Casey, Death Angel, Jason Hawk, Nick Ridicule and now Brandon Macdonald.

Tell me Dan, who have you beaten that is of any note whatsoever since you started here? Nobody, that's fucking who. You like to think of yourself as the big man, the new kid on the block who is better than everyone else.

You like to think that because you came close to beating Brandon Macdonald that you're a somebody. I'm happy to admit that the Brandon I beat wasn't the Brandon that was the bane of my existence during my time in NLWF, but it seems that you are incapable of seeing past the fact that the Brandon Macdonald YOU beat was also a junkie who was so high he probably could have touched the moon. If you had fought Brandon Macdonald at his prime he would have chewed you up and shit you out just like he used to do to me and the entire rest of the roster.

As for interfering in matches that don't pertain to me, as you so delicately put it, I have another question to ask. Are you fucking retarded? Seriously? I held a Championship Briefcase, which made your match 'pertinent' to me for two reasons.

First of all, the briefcase gave me temporary General Manager powers, allowing me to change matches and so on. Last time I checked, what goes on in IWF matches, especially IWF Championship matches is kinda relevant to the GM, temporary or otherwise.

Secondly, it was a match for the IWF Championship. Holding the briefcase made me the number one contender. Do you want me to pause for a second whilst you put two and two together or should I just lay it out there for you? You got it now? Good, CAUSE THAT SEEMS KINDA RELEVANT TO ME TOO!

Another thing, Deuce, how fucking dare you say that to me about Brandon's condition. What do you think I was sat backstage thinking “Hmm, I know just what to do. I'll go out there and put Brandon in a coma.” You think I fucking wanted that?! Brandon and I might have a chequered history and there may have been times when we were at each others throats but we've come through all that and we respect one another.

I can't believe you would even suggest for a second that it was what I did on Cataclysm that put Brandon in the hospital. Brandon had just been through a hellacious match with Jason Hawk who proceeded to give him a further beat down afterwards. Not only that Brandon was a junkie and had taken a huge overdose the night he was taken to hospital. There's no denying that what I did afterwards didn't help the situation but I'm pretty sure that couple extra minutes of action didn't tip him over the edge of Coma Canyon. It was going to happen anyway. But if you think for a second that that makes me feel any better about the fact that Brandon Macdonald is lying in a coma in intensive care and may never wake up, then you're fucking wrong.

You had no right to make those comments when you clearly don't understand the situation, so you know what my third strike is going to be, Deuce? It's going to be striking you down at Ragnarok and retaining my IWF Championship. Because frankly, you don't fucking deserve to be champion.