**Previously unaired footage from Refueled XL**
Lindsay Troy walks through the halls of The Best Arena, turns a corner and heads straight for the stretch with a series of dressing rooms spaced out for the company talent. She has the present from last week in one hand and the other is clenched tightly in a fist. A clear look of irritation is on her face as she goes past several doors until finally stopping at one, her frown deepening.
She looks at the nameplate, then grumbles something under her breath and pounds on the door with the side of a fist.
She does so again, this time a little louder.
Still no response.
One more time…. WITH FEELING.
“OPEN THE FRIGGIN DOOR!”
Finally, and slowly, the door unlatches, and slowly creaks open. Dan Ryan peers out just slightly, only part of his face visible, and looks her up and down. Her eyes deepen, fire and brimstone ready to leap from her ocular cavity. She holds the frame up.
“How about you tell me what the fuck this is.”
Dan looks from Lindsay’s eyes down to the framed photo, eyebrows going down a bit as he thinks about it.
Looking back up at her, he smiles.
And shuts the door.
She stares at the door and takes a slight step back, incredulous, and grumbles under her breath.
**BANG BANG BANG BANG**
Again she pounds on the door, and this time it opens fully; Dan Ryan steps slowly through, taking great care to keep the door close to him as he steps out so that she can’t see inside. He holds a finger up to his mouth as if to shush her.
“Look, you’re being awfully loud. I’m actually working on something in here, so I’d appreciate it if you would keep it down or, ideally, you know…. go away.”
Her head leans forward, because she did NOT just hear that.
“I’m sorry… go away?”
He smiles and shakes his head in the affirmative.
“Yes, actually that would be a big help.”
With that he makes something of a shoo-ing motion down the hall as if to dismiss her, and starts to move back through the door, still making sure she can’t see inside as he does. She reaches out her free arm and grabs him by the shoulder, firm enough to get across the idea that she means business. He looks down at it as she growls through her teeth.
“And if I don’t? You gonna do to me what you did to Squidboy? Huh? You gonna hit me?”
He holds his gaze on the spot where her hand still firmly grips his shoulder, and he sighs deeply. He softens a bit, looks up at her, then drives his head forward and practically through her nose. The impact stuns Troy and she flops back against the wall on the other side of the hallway, as blood starts to pour from her face where his head made its impact.
Her eyes go wide, more in shock than anything. Ryan’s own eyes open a bit.
Where once there was a look of bewildered surprise, a look of intense anger flashes on Lindsay Troy’s face, and with a guttural yell she lurches forward. Something metallic flashes in her vision, and she’s cut down by the elbow brace on Dan Ryan’s right arm. It catches her right below her left temple, and sends her flying more vigorously back against the wall this time, where she slumps down into a seated position, then over on her side. Her nose, now flowing more freely with blood starts to create a small pool on the tile beside her, mixing up in her curly locks as her head rests there.
Dan stands there, looking down at her, thinking, and scratches his chin, before becoming suddenly aware of a HOW crew member standing nearby, headset on, jaw dropped. He starts to approach the downed Lindsay Troy, kinda half kneeling, not sure what to do.
Ryan’s attitude changes suddenly and he addresses the man directly. He looks up, shaken from his shock by the booming voice.
“There was a lady here earlier asking if I wanted anything to eat before the show starts, and I told her maybe just bring like.. a Clif bar or something, and some water. Do you think you could go check on that for me? My stomach’s starting to rumble just a little bit.”
The man just stares as Ryan smiles.
Dan turns and opens the door again, still staying as close as he can to keep any prying eyes away from what’s inside.
“Oh,” he says, concerned. “Be careful. There’s a lot of blood on the floor right there. I wouldn’t want you to slip.”
He smiles widely, and the door starts to close. Just before it does, the smile vanishes, replaced by a vacant stare.