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It was a typically hot summer day in Tampa, Florida. The sun was shining, and people were out and about showing off their golden tans from either the bottle or the sweet kiss from the sun. We focus on what appears to be a large backyard area. The noise of something hitting the ground hard along with grunting can be heard. As we zoom closer the source of the noise seems to be coming from inside of a wrestling ring that is set up in the backyard.
The backyard belongs to Devin Skylar or as most of you know him, the close friend of HOW Hall of Famer Jace Parker Davidson. Both Jace and Devin can be seen standing outside of the ring in the backyard. Inside of the ring Devin’s sister Samantha Skylar can be seen taking Jace’s assistant and fuck buddy Madison to task.
“You think all of this is necessary?” Devin asked as he turned to look at Jace.
“Absolutely necessary, after what happened last week to her. She needs to step up and be able to handle herself.” Jace replied in a stern tone.
“Yeah, I saw what happened, but don’t you think the poor girl has been through enough already?” Devin says as he nudges Jace with his elbow.
Jace remains quiet for a moment as he watches Samantha hit Madison with a superplex off of the top turnbuckle.
“If she expects to stand at my side and travel with me around the world with both HOW and OCW then she’s not been through nearly enough.” Jace says before letting out a displeased grunt.
“Okay, fair point but why did you choose to do it here and not in Chicago at the fancy TEN-X building that you’re a trainer at?” Devin raises his eyebrow in curiosity.
“Are you kidding me? You think she deserves to be inside of a state-of-the-art facility with air conditioning? Working outside in the Florida heat is better.” Jace spoke as if his comment was obvious.
Devin narrowed his eyes and glared at Jace, clearly seeing right through his bullshit.
“Okay, fine! I didn’t take her to TEN-X because it’s embarrassing to be seen with her in public. Getting choked out by Bobbinette Carey of all people? I can’t have weakness like that associated with me and standing in my corner.” Jace finally admits.
“You do realize that she’s not a trained wrestler and that Carey is a Hall of Famer, right?” Devin decides to bring logic into the conversation.
“And your point being?” Jace responds sarcastically.
“I think my point is pretty damn obvious, you’re just choosing not to acknowledge it.” Devin nodded his head confidently.
Both men stood silently for a moment watching Samantha crank and twist at Madison’s foot while applying an ankle lock. Madison screamed in pain as she frantically tried to crawl her way towards a rope.
“Madison knew what she signed up for when it came to this profession. She doesn’t have to be a trained wrestler to defend herself against another woman.” Jace folded his arms over his chest.
“The funny thing is that she got attacked for defending YOU!” Devin put extra emphasis on the word.
“Do I look like someone that needs to be defended? Especially when it comes to someone like Bobbinette Carey?” Jace was defiant in his words.
“Well, you did toss her off of the U.S.S. Octane. Did you not expect her to retaliate for that?” Devin asked with a shrug.
“Retaliate? The bitch came to hand me her fucking dry-cleaning bills. Since when is that retaliation? Bobbinette only took advantage of Madison because Madison didn’t stand up for herself and the fact Bobbinette knows better than to try coming at me like that.” A small smirk formed across Jace’s lips.
“Somehow I don’t think that is going to be the case since you’re facing her on the next Chaos.” Devin tilted his head to the side.
Jace pauses once again as he watches Madison and Samantha in the middle of the ring. Both women are tied up collar and elbow struggling for an advantage. Samantha manages to put Madison into an arm wrench and twists on it hard. Madison groans in pain before reaching up and grabbing a hold of Samantha’s red hair trying to pry her off of her arm. Samantha plants a boot to Madison’s midsection then drops her face with a DDT down to the canvas. Madison holds her nose and whines in pain.
“Light work. That manatee is just mad that I returned her to the sea where she came from. Bobbinette’s bark is a thousand times worse than her bite. All she’s ever accomplished has been thanks to being by someone else’s side. From Shane Reynolds, to Scottywood, and now she’s trying to sink her claws into Stronk.” Jace says with a low annoyed tone.
“Sounds to me like it would have just been easier to pay her stupid bills and done with it.” Devin raised his arms and placed his hands behind his head.
Jace snapped his head around to look over at the man beside him with a death stare while his friend pretended to just whistle innocently.
“Are you drunk?! Pay Bobbinette Carey’s bills? I’d rather listen to her talk about every single issue in the world on an endless loop. If I folded and paid her money she’d just continue until my bank account was sucked dry. She’s trying to do the exact same thing to Stronk now that he got a Hall of Fame level salary and our STRONKUMMS business is booming.” Jace unfolded his arms and was very animated with them as he spoke.
Jace’s attention was turned back towards the ring at the sound of Madison hitting the turnbuckle hard. Samantha leaned down and began ramming repeated shoulders into the midsection of Jace’s manager. All of the air is continually forced out of Madison’s body until Samantha moves away. Madison slumps against the turnbuckle holding her stomach as Samantha climbs to the second rope over top of her. Samantha begins firing away with fists to the forehead of Madison.
“About those STRONKUMMS… you wouldn’t happen to have any of those with you now, would you?” Devin asked as innocently as he possibly could.
“What? No, I don’t but I can have some sent to you at a discounted price. I’d let you have them free but I’m not sure Stronk would like that. I have to make sure my friend and business partner has everything he needs. While keeping that succubus Bobbinette Carey away from him.” Jace sighed.
“Seems like the big fella had quite the interest in her before, why not just let it happen?” Devin said in a disappointed tone over not getting any STRONKUMMS today.
“Simple, because he was interested in her before she snubbed her nose at him. She preferred the company of her drunken bitch on a leash in Scottywood. But now that he has disappointed her more times than she can count, she is ready for another free ride. She sees Stronk with the belt she couldn’t win at War Games, the money, the business and she wants to mooch off all of it.” Jace rubbed one of his hands down his face.
“And that’s it? You’re doing this because of all that and not one ounce of this is meant as revenge for what happened to Madison?” Devin was determined to keep chipping away at the subject.
“Why would it be? Do I look like one to those sappy ass simps like Darin Zion was?” Jace is disgusted by the simple thought.
“Have you ever considered the possibility that doing it for her might… you know… make her happy?” Jace immediately tries to protest but Devin interrupts him. “I could see if this was a strictly business relationship but you both are sexually involved. Are you too dense to notice that the woman likes you a lot and maybe wants more from you? Like affection, respect, and a committed relationship?”
There was a burning urge within Jace to reach out and slap his friend across the face as hard as he possibly could. However, Jace took a deep breath and mentally counted to ten before exhaling.
“I’m not an idiot but I’m also not a fucking beta male either. I did the whole respect, partner, relationship, and then marriage bullshit. I’m nowhere near interested in jumping back into that. I did my time in that prison trying to cater to Tara’s every need. Carrying her through matches, yelling at her to train when she was feeling lazy, and having to literally carry her kicking and screaming to locations to do her own goddamn promos. Not happening again. If Madison wants more? Then, she can find some sap out there to worship the very ground she walks on. She can go sit under Bobbinette Carey’s learning tree about being a washed-up trophy wife. I’m focused on my money, my career, and Championship belts. Pussy is a dime a dozen.” Jace rants.
“You could have just said you enjoy being single, Jesus.” Devin rolls his eyes.
“You’re just lucky I don’t go and fuck your sister.” Jace comments snidely.
Devin reaches out and punches Jace in the arm as hard as he can. Devin wasn’t exactly an overly protective brother but knowing the things he knew about Jace. The thought of the things he would do to his sister weren’t pleasant at all.
“Touch her and I’ll rip your balls off and mail them to Bobbinette Carey.” Devin threatened.
“Fuck off, you just want to touch my balls, bitch.” Jace scoffs.
The two men start wrestling and fighting with each other before falling to the grass of the backyard. Madison and Samantha look on then quickly slide out of the ring and break the two of them up before anyone gets seriously injured.
—–
Hello Bob,
Seems like you missed me so much that you felt the urge to come by my locker room with a present for lil’ old me. And by present, I mean your goddamn receipts for what you had to pay to fix yourself up after your little dip in the water on July 3rd. And I just have to say that I both appreciate and respect your due diligence of being a responsible adult and a good co-worker. Keep an eye on your mailbox, I sent you a handwritten apology for tossing you off of the U.S.S. Octane. You’re a proud African American woman and an HOW Hall of Famer along with being The Queen of…
Okay, even I can’t keep typing all of that with a straight face.
Bob, the only thing you are The Queen of is being a fucking gold-digging bitch. I mean when the rumors were swirling around about yet another return of Bobbinette Carey I was kinda excited. I had always heard stories of this so-called Legend that is Bob but a chance to see it for myself. It was a very intriguing possibility. Or so I thought, because now that it’s actually happened? I am severely disappointed and can no longer trust those people that used to sing your praises. Wait, people is the wrong word, it was person, singular and that person was Scottywood, who I didn’t trust anyway. The point of the matter is that the man that you refer to as Scooter convinced you to come back because you’re like practically the only friend the grumpy, drunk bastard has in this business.
You came in loud with both guns blazing and then nothing happened. I mean sure you and Scottywood managed to defeat Mike Best and Steve Solex. And then Scottywood pulled a Scottywood and decided to bring back the retired HOW World Tag Team Championship belts and celebrate like you both had just won the Superbowl. Being the mature adult that you claim to be, being a mother who is responsible for taking care of children. One would think that you would’ve stepped up and put a stop to that stupid idea before Scottywood could make an ass out of the both of you. Instead, you went right along with it because with you two it’s like the blind leading the dumb.
And of course, you got smacked down the very next week for your poor decisions.
And outside of beating Jatt Star/Simon Sparrow on a random episode of Refueled, you’ve been getting smacked down ever since. I really want to know… when did it finally click in your head that Scottywood’s coattails are the very last person’s coattails that you should try riding on? Was it before his last shot at Mike Best and the HOW World Championship? I mean that would make sense seeing as you went and cost him the biggest match of his career. Which is sad to say given that Scottywood is a Hall of Famer but yet a shot at #97red on a weekly show was the biggest match of his career.
It was the smartest thing you’ve done since you returned to HOW during this run.
Until within weeks you went right back to him like nothing happened. You two argued like grade schoolers for weeks then made this insane two out of three falls match where the final fall would be a bottomline match. So, why do it? Did you suddenly fucking chicken out and thought that maybe you couldn’t beat Scottywood? Scared of the thought of looking like a pirate for the rest of your life wouldn’t be fashionable? Whatever the reason, you buttered yourself back up to Scottywood to the point the idiot decided to “defend your honor” while in the middle of a feud with you, against some random dude that wanted to get his dick wet. Those tits of yours must squirt rainbows for you to be able to that quickly convince a guy you screwed out of #97red to make himself look like a fucking pussy whipped bitch by going “Haha, we fooled you!”
Is that how you get your rocks off, Bob?
You walk into the room, find the weakest, horniest guy you can find then see how long it takes you to wrap him around your little finger? I’m pretty sure that is the ONLY reason you tolerated those BFF shenanigans from Fuse. You wanted to slither your way to screwing him out of the HOW World Championship belt. And just like with Scottywood, that failed miserably. So now you’ve set your sights on Stronk Godson. I find it hilarious that you decided to buy and send the LSD Champion half a cow but yet you’re determined to make me pay for getting your hair done and some wrestler gear? Are you just immune to common sense? Do you think that you’re just loud enough, and black enough that no one will remember the bullshit that you’re trying to get away with?
It’s not a good look, Carey.
See, you demand respect but haven’t accomplished anything worthy of respect. I’m sure you’ll shout to the rooftops that you’re the only woman to be inducted into the Hall of Fame. Blah, blah, blah. Like having the longevity of being in HOW isn’t impressive when you’re on your back at the end of 97% of your matches. You’re claim to fame in HOW isn’t winning War Games, since of course everyone knows you stole that victory from Shane Reynolds. Your claim to fame is being Mario Maurako’s punching bag. The man’s whole gimmick revolves around beating you over the head like a five-dollar hooker who looked in his medicine cabinet without his permission.
Do you want respect?
Do something, accomplish something noteworthy all by yourself without anyone having to carry you to the top of the mountain. You talk all the shit in the world about someone like Kirsta Lewis but at least she wasn’t ashamed of who and what she was. She made no effort to hide the fact that she was willing to suck as much dick as it took to get to the top. You prance around like some Queen, like a great mother, and like people should fear your in-ring ability when the honest truth is you suck in all three categories. Stronk is a tank, a man that steamrolls the competition in front of him. You honestly think that he’s going to tolerate you losing a majority of your matches if there ever comes a day that you attach yourself to his hip?
You’re a peasant in a fake crown. A ghetto chicken head, cosplaying as a member of the 1%. A former trophy wife who is now nothing more than a broken-down participation trophy that no one wants to even display on a shelf in their awards case.
If you thought being thrown off of the U.S.S. Octane was bad? Just wait until I literally yeet you off of the HOW roster to the point you become a memory no one wants to remember.
—–
We opened up a few days later on a humid and sunny day in Miami, Florida. There is a wide shot of the city until we zoom in on a large office building. Inside there are many people heading in all kinds of different directions inside and out of the various suites on different floors of the building. We moved to a small suite down the hallway. Inside one of the rooms in the office sits HOW Hall of Famer Jace Parker Davidson. Instead of his normal street clothes or an expensive suit Jace is dressed in a formal button-down black shirt accompanied by a tan colored tie. His tan colored khaki pants seem finely pressed and creased and his black dress shoes tap on the floor beneath his feet.
Jace is sitting back in a rather comfortable 97red leather chair as he looks down at a folder in his hands. His eyes pour over the details on the documents inside of the folder while he slowly nods his head up and down. While he is lost in thought there is a knock at the door of the room before the door slowly opens. A middle-aged black woman walks in dressed head to toe in a Hogwarts uniform from the Harry Potter movies along with a tiara placed upon her head and a purse hanging from her shoulder. The woman closes the door behind her then walks over and sits down on the long leather seat against the wall. The kind of seat you would often find inside of a therapist’s office. Jace closes the folder and places it on a small wooden table sitting beside his chair. He turns to the woman who entered the office and smiles.
“You’re late, Shaniqua.” Jace says as he looks down at the watch on his wrist.
“And your point? As far as I’m concerned, I am fashionably late which means I’m right on time. It’s not like you had anything better to do anyway.” Shaniqua says while rolling her eyes a bit.
Jace narrows his eyes over towards the woman but just exhales and lets the comment slide as he grabs a notepad and a pen.
“So, what do you want to talk about today?” Jace inquires as he focuses his eyes down at the notepad.
“Well, that’s a dumb question. Me, obviously. I mean HELLO have you ever met me before? I am the most interesting topic of any conversation.” Shanique moved her head side to side as she spoke.
“Yes, I know you love you some you, but I meant more about what is going on with you since our last visit?” Jace crossed one of his legs over the other.
Shaniqua takes a moment to think as she turns her body and lays back on the cushioned seat while crossing one of her legs over the other.
“Well, all of my kids are growing up as fast as weeds but all of my different baby daddies are refusing to give me the money I deserve.” Shaniqua admits.
“They’re not paying you any child support?” Jace started to tap the end of the pen against the notepad.
“Child support? Please, I am a strong independent woman, and I can provide for my children on my own. They aren’t sending me the money I deserve for letting them behold this glorious wet wet between my legs. Not everyone gets that privilege.” Shaniqua gestures towards her crotch.
“Just how many have?” Jace asks while swallowing the ball of bile that rose up into his throat from his patient’s comment.
“Eighteen.” Shaniqua responded instantly.
“No, not the age of your oldest child. I am asking how many different men that you’ve had a child with or have experienced your… special place?” Jace shook his head a bit.
“Nigga, I said eighteen!” Shaniqua shouts loud enough for everyone in the building to hear.
“Jesus, settle down, Bob.” Jace says he winces a bit from the volume of her voice.
“Excuse me?!” Shaniqua raised the upper half of her body up and glared over at Jace. “Just who the fuck is Bob?!”
“Did I say Bob? My apologies, you just remind me of someone I know.” Jace begins to write something down on his notepad. “Let’s move onto another subject, shall we? How has your love life been?”
“Oh, you best believe I’m in high demand.” Shaniqua said proudly. “Besides all 18 baby daddies trying to get back with this all the time, I met this cute guy that walked in on me in the bathroom one day and kissed me.”
Jace’s eyes are focused on the notepad but suddenly after hearing that disturbing comment he looks up from the notepad and raises his eyebrow.
“He did what now? I mean, wasn’t the door to the bathroom closed while you were inside of it? Seems like a clear violation of privacy.” Jace states in a concerned manner.
“Look, the bathroom door was wide open. I don’t care about the fact that I was on the toilet when he walked in and kissed me. It’s my house, I pay the damn bills, so if I want to shit with the door open then that’s my damn business. Damn, it was romantic as fuck to be kissed when you’re dropping a deuce.” Shaniqua snaps her fingers to emphasize her point.
Jace just sits there and blinks a couple of times trying not to let too many of his brain cells die after hearing what he just heard.
“So, I take it you and this man are a bit of an item then?” Jace took to his notepad again and wrote a reminder to keep a bottle of Pepto Bismol in his office.
“This ain’t cuffin’ season. There isn’t one single kiss from anyone while shitting that is ever going to win over all this sexiness. He wore out his welcome pretty quickly, so I had to have him taken care of for me.” Shaniqua purses her lips together.
“He wore out his welcome. What happened?” Jace folded his arms across his chest.
“He was a broke bitch and didn’t have the means necessary for me to piggyback ride him to fortune and fame.” Shaniqua rolls her eyes.
“Shallow, but what did you mean by ‘taken care of for you?’” Jace furrows his brow.
“Oh, that means my bestie got involved. I’ve known him FOREVER and he’s got this giant crush on me, but I choose to ignore it. He gets SUPER jealous if another man even looks at me. I tell him all about my slutty adventures to get him all mad. So, once I told him about this guy he marched right up and ripped the man’s balls off with his bare hands.” Shaniqua waves her hand and giggles to herself.
“That sounds… criminal.” Jace shifts around his chair uncomfortably thinking about another man’s balls being ripped off.
“My bestie doesn’t abide by laws, or common sense for that matter. Honestly, he just likes to walk up to strangers and touch their balls. Makes him feel manly and unstoppable, which is ironic since his own balls are located here in my purse.” Shaniqua reaches down and begins to dig into the purse.
“NO! No, no, no. No need to pull them out because I completely believe you!” Jace unfolds his arms and waves his hands out in front of Shaniqua to stop her. “You said this bestie with the obsession with grabbing other men’s balls had a crush on you? Is that something you’ve thought about exploring?”
“He is JUST a friend! Besides he has a girlfriend, and she absolutely loves me. I am no homewrecker and wish nothing but the best for them. However, the next time we share a hotel room together? I’m totally going to fuck his brains out.” Shaniqua sucks on her teeth a bit.
“You do hear yourself, right Carey?” Jace sighs.
“Who the hell are you talking to?!” Shaniqua has another outburst.
“YOU! I mean, sorry. That’s just someone else that I know. I’m running on very little sleep today, so let’s just move past that.” Jace pauses as Shaniqua reaches into her purse and pulls out a gigantic candy bar. “Wait, there is no eating or drinking in this office.”
“Look, I need chocolate because I am on my cycle. Now, if you try to tell me what to do again while I am having my time of the month? I will take my cycle and run your ass over with it.” Shaniqua unwraps the candy bar and begins eating it.
“That was way too much information.” Jace rubs his hand over his forehead.
“Oh, stop being a bitch. I tell everyone about my cycles. It’s one of my many charming qualities.” Shaniqua says with a mouth full of an already chewed chocolate bar.
“Anyway… from what I can tell Shani qua you have a void in your life you’re desperately trying to fill. Unfortunately, it’s caused you to live in a fantasy world where you’ve made every single thing revolve around yourself.” Jace concludes.
“What the fuck are you talking about?!” Shaniqua places her hand over her heart.
“You have used a wide variety of men in your life that you screw over in some way or another, only to sit here every single week and complain about how you’re somehow the victim in these situations. You have a best friend who you string along and keep around for your own personal amusement. You sat here and claimed you had his balls in your purse and you personally ignore the toxic situation that is your relationship with this person. Everything you say or do is only for the sole purpose of trying to make yourself look good regardless of who you have to step over or make to look like a fool to get what you want. You crave constant attention and have a severe codependency problem.” Jace leans forward in his chair.
“You have some nerve –” Shaniqua is interrupted by Jace.
“I’m not done yet. You love to portray yourself as this strong independent woman but what you are is a small insecure woman trying to be as extra as possible and as loud as possible, hoping no one notices that insecurity. You sit here with your tiara on your head, your silly nerd outfit, and carry yourself like you’re some kind of royalty that people should bow down to as you walk by.” Jace uses his hand to gesture at the tiara and outfit.
“Excuse me? I am a Princess! I have royal blood flowing through my veins. If you say that I am not, then you are just wrong, and I can totally prove it. Everyone knows that I am the Princess of Awesomeness!” Shaniqua adjusts the tiara on her head.
“Right, and I’m sure this so-called kingdom that you rule over has a yellow brick road and flying monkeys. You’ve told me the story before, you’re Polish, Russian, Australian, Finnish, Eastern European, Asian ancestors were supposedly nobles or some shit like that. Honestly? I’m just sick of the nonsense. You try to be everything in the world to make yourself sound interesting when in reality the only thing you are is a basic bitch.” Jace uncrosses his legs as Shaniqua’s eyes widen.
“I don’t have to sit here and listen to you disrespect me! You can’t make me grasp a hold of the truth and reality of my situation. I am who I am, and I am proud!” Shaniqua inhales the rest of her candy bar then gets off of the seat and heads for the door. “I will see you again next week though!”
Shaniqua opens the door and exits before slamming the door shut behind her. Jace turns in his seat and looks over at Madison who has been standing in the office recording this the whole thing on her phone.
“You see Carey, you can go out every single week and diagnose the problems with everyone on the roster but here’s the thing. I know who I am and what I am and frankly your opinion doesn’t matter to me. I don’t try to pass myself off as this morally upstanding person. I’m not in denial over the things I do or say. I’m as real as you’re going to get on this roster. Calling out my so-called flaws isn’t going to change the fact that I’m going to kick your ass in St. Louis.”
Jace reaches up and loosens the tie around his neck.
“I don’t need to shout at the rooftops just because I love the sound of my own voice. I am a man driven by results. The things I say? I do everything in my power to back them up inside of the ring. I don’t walk around proclaiming that I’m going to win War Games 2023 only to not even make it to the official match itself. And I know you’re going to try and call me out for being a member of The Board but that’s fine. See, here is the difference between us Carey. Is that I am a HOW Hall of Famer that continues to prove myself to be one of the top talents in this business. I don’t need to cling to the past like you do. Yes, we know you won War Games and yes, you’re a former HOW World Champion. But screwing over Shane Reynolds and your two reigns with 97red barely eclipses a month in total. Those aren’t accomplishments, that’s just sadness”
Jace raises his hand and admires the HOW Hall of Fame ring on his finger.
“2008 was a long fucking time ago, Carey. The only reason you and Scottywood get along so well is that you both have never evolved as people or wrestlers from the past. Scottywood is still stuck back in his days of owning NGW pretending like he’s some kind of big deal. You’re stuck back in 2008 acting like you’re such a vital part of HOW’s rich history. You’re a cliff note at best. You can thump your chest about being the ONLY female HOW Hall of Famer all you want. It’s not impressive nor is it an accomplishment. Especially since you never really made any sort of a difference in HOW on your own. Your goddamn side boob is more over than you are as a professional wrestler. You think longevity or the fact that you’re always on every show makes you something special. Herpes doesn’t ever truly go away either but that doesn’t mean that anyone actually wants it.”
Jace lowers his hand and then grabs a hold of the notepad sitting on his lap.
“You’re basically Scott Stevens in female form. Anything you’ve accomplished is overshadowed by the fact that no one will remember anything about you other than every mishap you’ve ever had in the ring. From being Mario’s side piece to when I tossed you off of the U.S.S. Octane. You should be thanking me for giving you a moment that people will never forget but instead you want to go around shoving your receipts in people’s faces. Your trivial demands for compensation are laughable, especially when you should be charged with several crimes. Being annoying, being a bad representation of an HOW Hall of Famer, failing to back up all of your tough talk, and most importantly trying to brainwash my best friend Stronk Godson with your bullshit. Swing your dick around all you want Carey, you’re not getting on the ride that is Stronk Daddy. You’re not getting your cut of STRONKUMMS money, a shot at the LSD Championship, or a free ride to the top of HOW.”
Jace rips off a page of the notepad that looks like a ticket written by a cop and holds it up for the camera to see.
“I’ve found you guilty on all charges Bobbinette and this week inside of the ring? You will get your punishment; you will get your receipt for being a blemish on the HOW roster. And when I pound my boot through the back of your head? You’ll know what real wrestling royalty looks like. And for your crimes? I will take that crown from you, along with your head.”
Jace lets the page from the notepad slip from his hand and fall to the floor as the scene fades to black.