::::SCENE: The docked USS Octane. Jatt Starr stands on the deck, the sea air giving him a sense of calm as the wind whips his hair wildly. The text from Jack, someone the Champion of Jattanooga has recently learned, is an associate of Steve Harrison. The realization that his Best Alliance compatriots have invited him to the aircraft carrier caused an adrenaline rush. The excitement of bonding with his teammates that, until now, he thought despised him, has the Thane of Starrkarth shaking like a child on Christmas Eve.
A figure stands on the deck ahead of him. The Ruler of Jattlantis, his StarrSek Industries duffel bag over his shoulder, approaches the figure. It is his gloriously moustached B.A.T.T.L.E. Bro, Sektor..::::
JATT STARR: There he is! The Gold Standard himself! I knew it! I knew you were the mastermind behind this whole thing!
::::Sektor, not quite registering what the Starrcelona Icon is saying, looks as confused as a toddler watching the Wiggles perform Shakespeare to the letter.::::
JATT STARR: There’s a party downstairs, isn’t there? You guys are throwing the ol’ Ruler of Jattlantis a welcome back from the States party. Are you okay?
SEKTOR: I’m fuckin’ great, why?
JATT STARR: You seem, I don’t know. Different in some way? You haven’t had sex. You aren’t high. You aren’t drunk. Wait a minute!
:::The King of Grapple from the Big Apple’s eyes grow as wide as globes and his mouth drops in shock and immediately turns into a beaming smile.::::
JATT STARR: You’re not drinking!
SEKTOR: Very good, Starrlock.
JATT STARR: Oh my God. Oh my God!
::::Jatt Starr searches the immediate area him, spinning twice looking for a chair that is not there.:::
JATT STARR: I thought we would be sitting for this conversation. This is huge!!!
SEKTOR: Yeah, figured that I beat Dan Ryan and with War Games coming up I need to—
JATT STARR: Sober up!
SEKTOR: —focus on what matters, amigo. Winning War Games.
JATT STARR: And sobering up!
::::For the second time tonight, the Marquis of MadagaStarr’s eyes begin welling up with tears, only this time, it is from pure emotion. Jatt Starr starts to speak but gets choked up so he clears his throat.::::
SEKTOR: Are…are you fucking crying???
JATT STARR: I am just so proud of you.
::::The Jattagonian Giant proceeds to give Sektor a big hug. Sektor, on the other hand, looks as uncomfortable as one can be and wishes he was somewhere else.::::
JATT STARR: I knew one day this would happen. I knew that my influence would help you beat the disease. To think, I got you a bottle of tequila when in fact, I gave you the greatest gift of all, sobriety. And now? The real healing can begin.
::::Sektor fights away from Jatt Starr’s bear-like grasp and almost shoves him away. The Jattinum Standard wipes the tears from his eyes using the sleeve of his houndstooth sports coat.::::
SEKTOR: Dios mio, Jatt! I just need to—-
JATT STARR: You don’t need to do anything. You have already taken that first important step. I will text some locations for AA meetings, trust me, none of them are the culty religious ones with prayers and whatnot. I assure you, some of the shares I have heard, really messed up ca-ca. We can be Sober Siblings!
SEKTOR: No, no, no. I don’t need any fucking meetings, hermano. I just need to put all my energy on War Games.
JATT STARR: As we all should, but we can still celebrate your first day of sobriety.
SEKTOR: What the fuck, Jatt? You’re actin’ like you couldn’t give a shit about War Games.
JATT STARR: Hold up there, Johnny Boy. I am nothing if not serious about retaining the HOW Tag Team Championships. If you ask me, the Tag Team Championships are the crutch of the whole War Games!
SEKTOR: You mean “crux”?
JATT STARR: Whatever. Do you know why I firmly believe that the Tag Team Championships are the most difficult to win and retain? Because it is a representation of two individuals forming a symbiotic unit. There needs to be trust and chemistry within the team. Each member needs to know what the other is thinking and doing at all times. It’s about you putting your fate in someone else’s hands and trusting that the other person will put their fate into yours. That’s what it takes to win a war. That is why we were so successful and why we will continue to be successful. Dan Ryan and Conor Fuse don’t have the history or relationship that we do.
SEKTOR: Except you can’t win the whole fucking enchilada if you just focus on the Tag Team Titles.
JATT STARR: You’re acting like one of those “Survivor” players that talk about winning the game pre-merge. When you focus too heavily on the endgame too early, you get voted out. You can’t win War Games if you and I don’t succeed in retaining the Tag Team Championships. I have ideas, so forgive me if I just want to take it one step at a time. I got ideas on how to take down that lummox, Dan Ryan. And Conor? Well, it’s up to us to be the BOTS that give Conor Fuse nightmares. It’s us to be the BOTS that cause Conor Fuse to soil himself. In fact, we ARE those BOTS. We are the motherlovin’ “B.A.T.T.L.E. BOTS” that will knock his video gaming block off.
:::Sektor is silently nodding, probably considering what Jatt Starr has just said or just putting on a show because, at this particular moment, he does not feel like conversing with the Jattinum Standard. The Jattsylvanian Count, however, is becoming uncomfortable by the silence. Perhaps it’s the adrenaline and the excitement or perhaps it’s the lack of sleep but he cannot take it anymore.::::
JATT STARR: You know, like the robot boxing game?
SEKTOR: “Rock’em Sock’em Robots”?
JATT STARR: I’m pretty sure it’s “Battle Bots”.
SEKTOR: No, it’s—
JATT STARR: I don’t want to argue, we’ll just agree to disagree.
SEKTOR: Look, Jatt, hermano, I am really not in the headspace to—-
JATT STARR: I know, I know. There’s a welcome back party in my honor below deck.
SEKTOR: Sure, let’s go with that.
JATT STARR: Are you staying out here?
JATT STARR: Catch you on the flip side, Brohemian Rhapsody. And remember, recovery is not about perfection, it’s about progression.
::::Sektor hits the Sovereign of Starrgentina with a sarcastic smile and an even more sarcastic thumbs up. Jatt Starr, however, decides to see it as Sektor’s attempt at appreciation. Sobriety is a long, winding road strife with temptation and struggle. Sektor will now need Jatt more than ever to stay clean. Friends for life.
It took Jatt Starr about an hour to realize that there was, in fact, no welcome back party. One crew member whose name escapes him, so he will be referred to as Ensign Nimrod, told him that Sutler Reynolds Kael was off doing whatever in Tokyo. Cancer Jiles, Steve Harrison, Jace Parker Davidson, and Steve Solex had already retired for the evening. No one knew where Clay Byrd was, which means Clay Byrd did not want them to know where he went, which means he was off on another secret adventure, no doubt conquering the Japanese version of El Chupacabra.
So, Jatt Starr, found his quarters and dropped his duffel bag in front of the door which clangs shut behind him. The room is cold, bare, and unfeeling. The room is dimly lit and what passes for a bed is against the wall. The Sultan of SeaJattle slumps into the bed, landing on the thin mattress and passes out.
After an eight hour excursion in Dream Land, Jatt Starr awakens, his muscles tight and sore, probably from a combination of travel and the “bed”, he begins a quick regiment of stretching in the cramped living space before adjourning to the showers. He gets changed into khakis, a Double Dragon t-shirt, sneakers, and his trusty sports jacket and decides to take to the streets for some local delicacies.
The Baron of Boca Jatton, after heading to a nearby sushi bar for dinner where he takes a couple of selfies with some fans, signs a few autographs, and indulges in Uni for the first time, he decides to walk back to the USS Octane. The streets are congested with vehicles and people.
When he reaches the steps leading from the dock to the deck of the USS Octane, Clay Byrd approaches, they approach each other. Jatt Starr, after learning of the adventures Clay has been on, seeing the way he manhandled Teddy Palmer a week a half ago, becomes nervous. Butterflies begin sprouting inside his stomach. He tells himself to “Be cool, Jatt. Be cool.” That does not transpire.::::
JATT STARR: Clay! Clay Byrd.
CLAY BYRD: Jatt.
JATT STARR: Oh my God, it has been so long.
CLAY BYRD: I reckon that depends. Last time I saw you, was, what? You were havin’ quite the time with them less than desirable ladies and singin’ ‘bout pina coladas.
JATT STARR: Yes, um, well, that was, uh, not my, um, finest moment. A slight relapse. Look, I don’t think I mentioned this to you before but you’re my biggest fan.
::::The HOW Classic catches himself and smiles the faux pas off and knocks on his head, showing the large Texan and legendary folk hero that he knows he made a mistake.::::
JATT STARR: No, sorry, what I meant to say was you’re my biggest fan.
CLAY BYRD: Debatable. Now, if’n you’ll excuse me, I’ve got—-
JATT STARR: Sorry, I know. You have places to be and all that, but I don’t think we’ve had all that much one-on-one time. I think it’s key, especially since you’re going out first against Teddy Suckspin and then Sektor and I coming out next, that we build a rapport.
CLAY BYRD: I would but I—-
JATT STARR: Oh come on. Look, it’s kismet. You can’t build a relationship without a “ship”. Just one question? From your Number One fan?
::::The Sovereign of Starrgentina points to the aircraft carrier and then looks at Clay Byrd. Jatt Starr feels that he is losing Clay Byrd and Clay sees it. Jatt Starr looks almost desperate. Clay looks towards the city and then to Jatt Starr and lets out a very long and exasperated sigh, his voice screams “reluctance”.::::
CLAY BYRD: Tell ya what, okay, Jatt, go ahead. One question.
JATT STARR: Resplendent!
::::Jatt Starr begins searching his brain for the right question to ask. Does he ask about his bout with Teddy Palmer? Pick his brain about wrestling? Does he ask whether Bigfoot tastes more like beef or more like chicken. Finally, he settles on a question as Clay Byrd becomes visibly impatient.::::
JATT STARR: Okay, okay! So, I have to know….Is it true that your beard is actually the hair of your fallen opponents surgically implanted in your face?
CLAY BYRD: Pardon me?
JATT STARR: No, that’s a stupid question. Of course that’s true. Oh! Do you have any brothers?
CLAY BYRD: Well, I—-
JATT STARR: Or sisters? Are any of them single? I will be more than willing to take them out if they are a six or higher out ten. What am I saying? If she’s a five out of ten, I’ll do it. I’ll take her out, she’ll have a good time, oh! We’ll become an item. And then marriage! We’ll be family! You’ll of course be my best man, I don’t know how I’d break that to Sektor though, I suppose I will cross that bridge when I get to it. We can discuss who goes to whose house on what holidays later, your sister—-
::::Clay Byrd’s gaze becomes a complex tapestry of emotion within the span of a couple of seconds ranging from confusion, compassion, humor, disdain, and, finally, pity. Instead of standing there allowing Jatt Starr to continue his delusional rant, Clay can only muster the one sentence that will shut the Jatti Master’s yapper and be on his way.:::
CLAY BYRD: I ain’t got a sister.
JATT STARR: Oh. Well, what about a cousin?
::::Clay Byrd makes an annoyed grunting sound, almost as if he is clearing his throat, and decides his best course of action is to walk away and brushes past Jatt Starr.:::
CLAY BYRD: ‘Scuse me, Jatt.
::::Clay Byrd proceeds to walk away from Jatt Starr, the swagger in his gait unchanging. Jatt Starr nods, the look of disappointment in his face is unmistakable.::::
JATT STARR: Right, right.
::::As Clay Byrd walks past, the Ruler of Jattlantis is left disappointed and more than slightly embarrassed, his face redder than a fire truck. He begins questioning the entire interaction he had with someone he admires on both a personal and professional level.::::
JATT STARR: Dammit Jatt! You came on too strong, you blockhead. What are you thinking?
::::The Starrabian Knight can only look down at his gray Adidas sneakers with red stripes and shake his head with regret, a feeling he knows all too well. Part of him wants to follow Clay Byrd, perhaps attempt to connect with him on another level, try to impress him in some capacity, redeem himself. The other part, the more reasonable part, decides it would be better to let that sleeping dog lie….for now. There will be other opportunities forthcoming.
But then again, was Clay Byrd being dismissive of him?
Instead of dwelling on Clay Byrd, Jatt decides it is time to continue towards the aircraft carrier. His intention is to hit the gym, to work on his arms and legs. Unfortunately, his desire to build camaraderie with his Best Alliance cohorts is greater than his desire to work out, as he sees Steve Solex drinking a beer on the deck, sitting in a beach chair, sporting sunglasses, a bathing suit, and an open shirt. He starts walking towards Solex.::::
JATT STARR: Hey Steve! Solex, my man! Did I ever tell you that I bought a watch in Times Square that was a “Sollex”, it had two “L’s”?
SOLEX: Only every fucking time I see you, now fuck off.
JATT STARR: It was really a great watch for forty bucks. It worked for almost a week before it broke. Anyway, I was wondering if—-
SOLEX: I said….FUCK OFF!!!!
JATT STARR: Right-O! You’re busy, I’ll see you later. I’ll just go ahead and head downstairs if you need me.
::::Jatt Starr does a militaristic “about face” and walks in the opposite direction, getting the distinct feeling that this relationship building exercise on the boat is not quite what he thought it would be. It is becoming increasingly apparent that War Games will be less about the Best Alliance coming together and defeating a common enemy and more about which Best Alliance member will claim the glory for themselves.
The Saviour of Starrkham retreats to the safe haven of his living quarters and plops down onto his “mattress”. Strategically, in the ring, Jatt Starr is almost Machiavellian, but people? He’s Jim Varney’s Ernest. In recovery, they say “Other people’s opinion of you is none of your business”. Whomever said that was never involved in a nine person team at “War Games” with a bunch of selfish dunderheads. When Jatt Starr won War Games, he was El Capitan of the Best Alliance. He led his team to victory because they were all on the same page. Now? He can’t even get a cup of coffee with a teammate not named John Sektor.
A mischievous grin takes over the face of the Marquis of MadagaStarr and pulls out his phone. Being in the Best Alliance provides Jatt Starr with a small bit of power including information others may not know he is privy to. He goes into his contacts and scrolls down to the letter “C”, finds Conor Fuse and with a tap of the screen, the line on the other end rings once…Jatt Starr feels almost giddy at the thought of terrorizing his rival….twice….getting inside of the head of the so-called “Vintage” will certainly elevate his mood…..the phone rings thrice, and then connects.::::
JATT STARR: Conor Fuse! My archnemesis!
CONOR FUSE: Sutler?
JATT STARR: Sut…?! What?! No! It’s not Sutler! It’s Jatt Starr! The HOW Classic!
CONOR FUSE: Oh. Well, this is awkward. I’m currently in the middle of Rainbow Road in Mario Kart right now, so I need to go.
JATT STARR: What?! You don’t hang up on me! I hang up on—-
::::The Starrcelona Icon looks at his phone and sees the blinking red letters “Call Ended” mocking him. He runs his hands through his golden blonde hair with frustration. Even his sworn enemies cannot be bothered by him. Sutler Kael an archnemesis? Jatt Starr should be Conor Fuse’s Bowser! Not Sutler! Sutler barely registers as Koopaling. First Max Kael constantly steals the Jattlantic City Idol’s thunder and now his adopted progeny is stealing his sworn enemy. Sutler isn’t even in the Best Alliance, dammit! He’s a scab! The insolent little bastard! Both of them!
Jatt Starr feels the acids in his stomach percolating and his ulcer waking from a long slumber. His blood pressure begins rising like the tide. He closes his eyes and lays motionless on the bed, staring up at the metal ceiling. He focuses in on his breathing, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, calming his body down. Using the old adage he picked up in meetings, “you cannot control the disease, but you can control your behavior”, while not exactly what the intended saying was used for, helps in calming himself down.
Although, he could really use a drink.
He looks over at the duffel bag next to the door. There is a bottle of tequila resting in the bag. But he notices something he had not noticed before. A black box with an envelope attached. He opens the envelope and reads the letter attached. He opens the box and smiles.::::
JATT STARR: Aren’t we a little game changer?
::::The note and the two items in the box give Jatt Starr a sliver of hope. The problem is, with or without the box, he knows he cannot succeed on his own. There is too much doubt and individualism in the Best Alliance right now. People are looking to screw each other over.
For Jatt Starr, War Games is about the Tag Team Championships and survival. No lofty goals. No HOW Championship (if he is destined to have it, the HOW gods will make it so) — All he wants to do is shove it in the faces of those who are underestimating and undervaluing him.
What Jatt Starr really needs is just some reassurance that just because the Best Alliance is a misfit group of sociopaths and cads, at the end of the day, they will work towards a common goal. And maybe a little vote of confidence that he, Jatt Starr, can rise to the occasion and eviscerate the likes of Conor Fuse, Zebediah Martin, Teddy Suckspin, or anybody else on that sham of a squad.
There is only one play left for Jatt Starr.
There is only one person he can properly align with based on the similarity of their agendas. A man whose opinion on Jatt would be considered rational….with the right presentation.
But first, he must retrieve some items from his duffel bag.::::
******* ONE HOUR ELEVEN MINUTES AND FIFTY NINE SECONDS LATER ******
:::::The Ruler of Jattlantis, after going through his “pitch” in his head several times and amping himself up whilst walking through several labyrinthian corridors, up and down several flights of stairs, he is finally able to locate the person he had been….unable….to….locate. After a a brief interaction with one Jack Marley, Jatt Starr opens the door to one of the officer’s offices located in the belly of the USS Octane, Jatt Starr did not bother to read the name because, who cares?
Sitting at a desk looking quite serious….Maybe upset?….Constipated?….is the Miracle Man himself. Jatt Starr really needs to spend more time with Steve Harrison in order to properly gauge his moods. Needless to say, Steve Harrison is not smiling as Jatt Starr enters carrying a folder and small box.:::::
HARRISON: What the hell do you want?
JATT STARR: No! It’s what can I do for you! Wait….
::::Jatt Starr walks through the last fifteen seconds in his head as Steve Harrison looks on without a shred of amusement on his face. He looks as stoic as a mannequin riding on Space Mountain.::::
JATT STARR: Can, uh—can we take that back? I was expecting you to say “What can I do for you, Jatt?” I just had this whole thing mapped out in my head.
JATT STARR: Oh.
::::The Earl of GlouStarr quickly runs through some of the notes in his head and decides to go with the best stall tactic there is —- “Small Talk”.::::
JATT STARR: Hey, saw Jack back there. Seems like a primo guy.
::::The King of Grapple from the Big Apple gets no reaction or response from Steve Harrison as he places the box on the Miracle Man’s temporary desk.::::
JATT STARR: Anyway, Steve, Mount Steve-erest, New Year’s Steve!
JATT STARR: Steve, you and I, I think got off on the left foot. In other words, not the right foot. I look at you, I see someone that’s ready to break through! Someone who is ready to make things happen. These other so-called Best Alliance members, they aren’t like us. We are true blue ninety-seven red. Jiles, Sutler, Scottywood, Clay Byrd, they’re not doing this for the right reasons.
HARRISON (slightly disinterested): Uh huh.
JATT STARR: You and me, we know what the score is, we know what War Games is all about. This whole Grappler Union poppycock, nine people on a team, it’s all window dressing. War Games is about Lee Best. It’s about him showing everybody else who the top banana is. We get that. We’re fighting for Lee out there. It’s about the cash and about the loyalty, am I right?
HARRISON: Do I have to answer?
JATT STARR: No, because you know I’m right and can’t admit it. It’s fine. It’s why I’m here. I want to bury the olive branch. I’m talking about Miracle Enterprises and StarrSek Industries merging together under the parent company of Lee Best.
HARRISON: And what would that look like?
JATT STARR: I am glad you asked!
::::The Thane of Starrkarth opens the folder and pulls out a sheet of paper and hands it to Steve.::::
JATT STARR: It’s trust! It’s solidarity! It’s winning for Lee!
HARRISON: It’s a drawing done by a three year old.
::::Harrison holds up the drawing of a stick figure with a giant round head that is smiling, has slightly crooked eyes, and wavy lines coming out of it’s head like worms (or he’s stinky). The figure is wearing a t-shirt that says “LEE’S B.A. BUDS”.::::
JATT STARR: It was done on the plane. There was turbulence.
HARRISON: A shitty name and t-shirts? That’s what you’re bringing me? You want a shitty name with a t-shirt? “Darin Zion”. Everyone has fucking t-shirts.
JATT STARR: “B.A. Buds” was a working title….
:::::Harrison crumples up the paper into a ball and tosses the it at Jatt Starr’s head, misses, banks it off the wall and into the garbage can.::::
HARRISON: Totally meant to do that. You can’t prove otherwise. What else ya got? Not fucking t-shirts.
JATT STARR: I don’t know, what about “War Games”?
HARRISON: I’m intrigued. Go on.
JATT STARR: There is no way Arthur Pheasant should have beaten you at “Refueled”.
HARRISON: So, you’re going there?
JATT STARR: No, no! Don’t get me wrong, I am saying you should have beaten him. It was an upset. Steve-il Kneivel! You can’t plan for everything. Poopy ca-ca happens. You lose a match and all of a sudden, you’re not quite in the War Games winner talks. Hey, I get it, no one is giving me a shot to win. And, like the Jattlantic City Idol, you’re not exactly on the top of many winner lists.
HARRISON: Is there a point?
JATT STARR: Oh, most definitely. I have been chosen to defend the Tag Team Championships, my one job is to retain those titles. People hear that and think, the guy doesn’t have what it takes. There’s no pressure. But, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to take out a few undesirable types, types whose names rhyme with Teddy Ruxpin and Flan Zion. Should Teddy somehow defeat Clay, which let’s face it, it is an almost impossibility, that leaves Sektor and I down in numbers. My plan involves a great equalizer.
::::Jatt Starr opens the box and Steve Harrison looks inside.::::
HARRISON: Are those what I think they are?
JATT STARR: Indeed they are. It packs three times more punch than the top brand on the market today. They’re also probably illegal in the United States. These are a couple of prototypes that a certain friend, we’ll say “guardian angel” gave to me. I plan on using one of these bad boys on Dan Ryan. Cocky prick. I want him to drop like a sack of rotten potatoes. But more than that? I just do not want to get eliminated in War Games. It’s that simple. So, why not have a little insurance?
HARRISON: I am always in support of gaining an extra advantage. But, do they work?
JATT STARR: Well, there’s a bit of a risk involved. According to my guy, there is a thirty percent chance it could blow up in your hand especially if you use it more than once every half hour.
HARRISON: You make that shit work, maybe, we’ve got something.
JATT STARR: Are you saying what I think you’re saying?
JATT STARR: We are working together! YES! Verbal contract! No Backsies! Don’t worry, loyalty is my middle name. You need something done, you can count on me! I can be very handsy!
::::The emotional roller coaster that Steve Harrison has been on from disdain, annoyance, interest, is most likely feeling remorse and impatience at this moment. It’s at this point, Jatt Starr, who is becoming increasingly hyperactive like Conor Fuse after a dozen pixie stix and a couple of espressoes, notices Steve Harrison’s left hand trembling, but since the Miracle Man does not seem to notice nor care, Jatt chalks it up to unbridled enthusiasm for their partnership….or “Starrtnership”? Jatt totally thinks that is gold.. Steve Harrison nonchalantly places his hand under the desk as the Mayor of ManJattan continues.::::
JATT STARR: Oh! I have our name! We love Lee! That’s not the name, by the way, just a fact, something we TOTALLY have in common! We’re gonna be best friends, you and me. You and me, Starr and Harrison, Jatt and Steve, the last two men standing at War Games. We’ll be like the Spanish Inquisition!
::::Steve Harrison looks perplexed at Jatt Starr.::::
JATT STARR: Because nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition! Jatt Starr and Steve Harrison….Best Buds!!!! Standing together, victorious!
::::Jatt Starr’s attitude changes from manic energy to cold, almost malicious as he sneers.::::
JATT STARR: And the looks on Lindsay, Teddy, and Zeb’s bloodied, broken, and potentially fried faces as they see my…OUR…hands raised, knowing they gave everything they had only to hopelessly and miserably fail and knowing it was I who outwitted, outplayed, and outlasted they’re sad little group….that is worth more than the HOW Championship itself.
::::Jatt Starr seems to snap out of his dark, grandiose fantasy and once again becomes as energetic as a four year old on a sugar high.::::
JATT STARR: Right, right! We can’t leave Sektor out of the conversation, Final Three! You or Sektor will be walking out of War Games the HOW Champion, Jattisfaction Guaranteed! Look, I know I barged in and I know you’re busy. I’m not going to bother you, I already have matching t-shirts designed in my head with arrows. They don’t have to be t-shirts though. What about pants with arrows on the butt? Steve, trust me! It’s going to be Jattacular! You aren’t going to regret it!
::::Steve Harrison looks like he already is as Jatt Starr closes and retrieves the box from the desk and proceeds to head out, beaming. He feels the wave of confidence wash away the dark cloud of despair that has been plaguing him.
Steve Harrison is the best shot he has in making it to the end of War Games, as long as Steve remembers who signs his paychecks. It only works if Steve Harrison believes in Lee Best as much as the Ruler of Jattlantis. And he could be wrong, but the Sultan of SeaJattle Steve is all about the “bottomline”. END SCENE.::::