Post by Amis FN Shelton on Oct 23, 2024 19:41:27 GMT -6
October 24th, 2024
The Shelton Sitcom - New York City, New York
The scene opens to a studio apartment set designed to resemble a classic sitcom. The walls are adorned with EWC memorabilia: posters of past WrestleFest events, championship belts mounted on the wall, and vintage wrestling action figures in a glass display case. The setting feels nostalgic, with warm lighting casting a golden glow across the cosy furniture and a backdrop of the iconic New York skyline seen through the window. An upbeat theme jingle music plays over the speakers, complete with a jazzy saxophone riff and lively guitar strumming as the title credits roll across the screen, showing Amis Shelton's name in bold, glitzy letters.
The camera cuts to the interior of the apartment, focusing on a wide shot of the living area. A plush, deep red couch sits in the middle of the room, facing a large flat-screen TV where clips of previous EWC matches flash across the screen. A coffee table is littered with wrestling magazines, an empty coffee mug, and an open mock-up script titled "Rumble Masterplan." The laugh track hums in the background as the camera zooms in on Amis Shelton, who is lounging on the couch in a casual, but stylish outfit. His EWC Television Championship is propped up prominently on the back of the couch, glinting under the studio lights.
"Nineteen other so-called 'competitors' who actually think they have a shot at winning the Rumble?” Amis says with a mock irritation, flipping through the script lazily before tossing it aside with a scoff. “Please, this is going to be easier than my last title defence. But sure, let’s humour them."
The laugh track hums as a familiar sitcom-style doorbell sound rings out. Amis rolls his eyes, his expression clearly annoyed but tinged with amusement as he drags himself off the couch. The audience chuckles at his exaggerated, reluctant movements.
"Who could it be this time?” Amis Shelton grumbles as he walks to the door. “Another delusional challenger hoping to convince themselves they have a snowball’s chance in hell of taking my Television Championship from me?"
He swings open the door with a flourish, revealing three actors standing in line, dressed as EWC’s top contenders: Ibuki Ito, Ace King, and Cosmo Goldworthy. Each character is decked out in their signature look; ‘Ibuki’ wears his wrestling gear with a leather jacket slung over his shoulder, ‘Ace’ is clad in a leather vest and jeans with an unmistakable veteran swagger, and ‘Cosmo’ is sporting a flashy sequined jacket and designer sunglasses, oozing confidence. The audience erupts into cheers as the three make their entrance, each actor playing up their character’s quirks, earning loud laughs from the audience.
"Well, well, well… if it isn’t the three fuckin’ musketeers of misplaced hope.” Amis says, feigning surprise and delight. “Welcome to my little world, gentlemen."
The actors step inside, each taking a spot around the living room. Ibuki stands tall with his arms crossed, Ace leans casually against the wall with a confident smirk, and Cosmo makes a show of adjusting his jacket, flashing a grin to the "audience" as he strikes a pose. Amis crosses his arms, staring at his three "guests" with a mix of amusement and derision. The scene is set for the sitcom-style showdown.
"These are the big threats? The so-called men standing in my way at the Rumble?” Amis says with a cheeky grin. “Please. This cast couldn't intimidate a toddler."
The actors portraying Cosmo, Ace, and Ibuki puff their chests in unison, trying to look more formidable. The audience chuckles as Amis holds out his arms in a "come at me" gesture.
"You don’t know what I’ve been through, Shelton!” Cosmo Goldworthy steps forward. “I faced Narumi in a Torture Chamber, I visited Sawney Bean's Cannibal Cave... I’m ready for anything!"
"Let me get this straight. You think you can scare me because you went on a haunted house tour? What’s next, you gonna bring out a flashlight and tell ghost stories?” Amis raises an eyebrow. “Tell me, Cosmo, did you bring your good pal Dimitri along for this little scene, or is he too busy lurking behind you with a flashlight like he did at the Edinburgh Dungeon? Trying to scare people into thinking you're as tough as your trench coat? Because trust me, all the Dior in the world can't cover up the fact that deep down, you’re still just that kid hoping to prove he belongs."
Cosmo’s expression tightens, and the audience gasps playfully at the insult. Amis walks around him, circling like a shark, his mocking tone thick with sarcasm.
"You know, for someone who’s all about being 'driven' and 'fighting for the people,' you sure do a lot of talking about what you could’ve done if things had gone your way. Meltdown in Mexico, Brawl #616… it’s always the same story. You need to remind everyone how almost winning against Lad Morales would’ve meant something if not for 'The Path' getting in the way, or how eating fried chicken and waffles in San Francisco somehow makes you a man of the people."
The audience laughs, while Cosmo’s face flushes with irritation. Amis seizes the moment, his tone dropping to one of feigned sympathy.
"Look, I get it, Cosmo. You’re trying to buy back your hood, uplift the community, all that 'inspiring' talk. But let’s call a spade a spade. You’re more concerned about convincing yourself you’ve changed than you are about actually doing it. When you walk into that Rumble, are you going to be fighting for the fans, your mom, or just to finally convince yourself that you belong at the top? Because all this time, lad, it sounds like you're still trying to figure out whether you're the hero or just the hype."
The audience reacts with “oohs,” as Cosmo’s face hardens. Amis steps back, raising his hands mockingly as if giving Cosmo space to retort.
"Amis, you can run your mouth all you want, but you’ll be eating those words soon enough.” Cosmo clenches his jaw. “The difference between us is that I’m actually trying to change-"
"Oh, I know, Cosmo. You’re 'trying.' You’re always trying. Trying to win, trying to convince everyone you’re the real deal, trying to be something you’re not.” Amis cuts him off, chuckling. “But you know what I’m doing? Winning. While you’re still figuring out how to feel good about a victory without a moral crisis."
Amis Shelton turns his attention to the actor playing Ace King, who has helped himself to a glass of tap water.
"Well, well, well… if it isn’t ‘The Gambler’ himself, back from whatever old folks’ home you’ve crawled out of.” Amis says with a sardonic grin. “What is it, Ace? You got tired of waiting for your pudding cup and decided to try your luck in the Rumble again?"
The studio audience erupts in laughter, while ‘Ace’ rolls his eyes, visibly annoyed by Amis’ taunts. Amis steps closer, his expression shifting from playful mockery to something more serious.
"See, I know all about you, Ace. I remember 2018, Insanity Cage… all 7 of us fighting for that Undisputed Championship. But what happened? We both came up short, didn’t we?” Amis says, his voice dropping but the intensity rising. “You’ve spent the better part of a decade chasing that same glory, trying to convince everyone that you’re still the guy who can carry this company on your back. But here’s the thing, Ace… you’re not. You’re a relic of a different era, trying to keep up in a world that’s moved past you."
Amis turns his back to ‘Ace’ for a moment, as if bored with the conversation. The studio audience chuckles as ‘Ace’ stands up from the couch, clearly irritated.
"You think you know what it’s like to stand in my shoes, Amis?” ‘Ace King’ steps forward defensively. “I’ve survived the Insanity Cage, I’ve held that Undisputed Championship, and I’m still here fighting for it-"
"Yeah, you’ve survived. But at what cost, Ace? You keep talking about how you’re never gonna break, but I’ve seen the cracks. I’ve seen you struggle to keep up with the likes of Xavier Reid and Lad Morales.” Amis spins around once more. “Hell, Moxie kicked your ass and ran you out of Rampage. You’re always there, always just close enough to the spotlight, but never quite able to grab it anymore, are you?"
Amis backs up slightly, pacing again as he gestures grandly to the apartment, the audience, and the scene at large.
"You know what the Rumble is, Ace? It’s not just another opportunity for you to walk down memory lane and reminisce about past glories. It’s a battlefield, and only the strongest survive. You’ve got that ‘never say die’ attitude, and I respect that… but let’s not kid ourselves. This isn’t your redemption story. This is my moment to finally step out of the shadows and put guys like you out of their fuckin’ misery."
The audience erupts in cheers and applause, as Amis walks back to ‘Ace,’ who is now visibly fuming. Amis puts a hand on his shoulder, almost mockingly, then shrugs as he releases it.
"Go ahead, King. Roll the dice one more time. Maybe you’ll get lucky, or maybe, just like in 2018, you’ll come up short when it matters most. Either way, I’ll be there to toss you over the top rope and remind everyone why the ‘Immortal Legend’ is still the man to beat."
The actor playing ‘Ace King’ clenches his jaw, clearly struggling to keep his composure as Amis gives one last smirk before turning to the last unaddressed man in the room, Ibuki, who sits cross-legged on the floor meditating.
"Oh, look at you, Ibuki. The ‘Ace of Paramount,’ the man who’s ‘stepped out of the shadows’ to reclaim his glory.” Amis says with a mocking reverence and slowly claps. “And here you are, meditating in the middle of my apartment, like you’re about to unleash some ancient fighting spirit on all of us. Very impressive."
The audience chuckles, while ‘Ibuki’ doesn’t flinch, maintaining his serene composure. Amis circles him, eyes narrowed as he examines his rival’s stance.
"Tell me, Ibuki, does sitting there with your eyes closed help you forget how you were handed that Rumble victory back in 2021? Or does it just make it easier to ignore the fact that you, Melody Malone, and my former student Moxie all hit the floor at the same time? That was the most controversial win in Rumble history, and you know it."
Amis crouches down, eye level with ‘Ibuki,’ who finally opens his eyes to glare back. The tension in the room is palpable as Amis continues, his voice low and cutting.
"But here’s the problem, ‘Ace.’ You keep telling everyone how you’re going to step back into the spotlight and reclaim your place at the top. Yet, here we are, and you’re still just lurking in the background, trying to remind everyone that you’re a threat. The fact that you’re still talking about proving yourself should tell you everything you need to know."
‘Ibuki’ rises to his feet, his expression hardening as he prepares to respond, but Amis is already on the attack.
"Don’t even try to play the ‘I’ve overcome adversity’ card, either. Sure, you had a rough start in your career, stumbling over every other big name while trying to live up to this ‘Ace’ title your manager slapped on you. But we’ve all had our rough patches, Ibuki. What matters is how we rise above them. And let’s be honest, for every big win you’ve had, there’s been a loss that’s knocked you right back down."
Amis steps closer, almost nose-to-nose with ‘Ibuki,’ the intensity radiating off of him.
"You call yourself the best pure striker in the EWC, but that’s all you’ve got, strikes. You talk about knocking people out with the Kettei-Da like it’s some guaranteed game-ender. But I’ve faced down every type of opponent, from submission specialists to high-flyers to, yes, even strikers like you. So, if you think you’re going to scare me with some fancy knee to the head, you’d better think again."
The actor playing ‘Ibuki’ clenches his fists, his face tightening with anger, but Amis isn’t finished. He takes one more step forward, his voice dripping with venom.
"Face it, Ibuki, you’ve always been second best. Whether it was in that Rumble, where you needed a controversial finish to be declared a winner, or now, as you struggle to claw your way back into relevance. At the Rumble, you won’t just be dealing with a Rick Rampage. You’ll be dealing with me, the man who’s spent his entire career proving people like you wrong."
Amis backs away, throwing his arms wide as he addresses the camera, his eyes gleaming with confidence.
"I’m not here to relive old glory or remind people of what I used to be. I’m here to win, and I’ll do it at the expense of everyone including you, Ibuki. So bring your best strikes, your best moves. It won’t matter when you’re the one hitting the floor, and I’m standing tall with a ticket to WrestleFest in my hand!"
"You know, Amis, you might want to start practising how to lose gracefully.” Cosmo pipes up again smugly. “It’s going to happen soon."
Cosmo’s jab elicits a chuckle from the studio audience, but Amis rolls his eyes and steps forward with a mischievous grin.
"You know what, Cosmo? You’re absolutely right…"
Suddenly, Amis springs into action, reaching behind Cosmo and pulling his sequined jacket over his head like a hockey player. With a yank, he twists Cosmo’s arms up in the sleeves, rendering him momentarily helpless. Amis smirks at the camera
"...right about this being the easiest fight of my career!"
The slapstick brawl erupts, and the audience laughs as Ibuki Ito lunges at Amis. Amis sidesteps him, causing Ibuki to crash headfirst into the coffee table, sending wrestling magazines flying everywhere. Ace King joins the fray, swinging at Amis with a surprisingly clumsy punch, but Amis ducks and slaps a pie conveniently placed on the kitchen side into Ace’s face, the whipped cream splattering everywhere.
The audience roars with laughter as Ace stumbles backward, trying to wipe the pie from his eyes. Meanwhile, Amis quickly grabs the three competitors by the back of their shirts, dragging them toward the window. With an exaggerated grunt, one by one, he sends them flying out the conveniently open window. The sound of a cartoonish crash and cat yowl plays as each man lands "outside."
"And that, my friends, is how you deal with anyone stupid enough to think they’re taking my spotlight at WrestleFest."
The audience erupts in laughter and applause as Amis strolls back to the couch, nonchalantly picking up his championship belt and draping it over his shoulder. Just then, the doorbell rings again, and he rolls his eyes. The scene fades to black.
The camera cuts to the interior of the apartment, focusing on a wide shot of the living area. A plush, deep red couch sits in the middle of the room, facing a large flat-screen TV where clips of previous EWC matches flash across the screen. A coffee table is littered with wrestling magazines, an empty coffee mug, and an open mock-up script titled "Rumble Masterplan." The laugh track hums in the background as the camera zooms in on Amis Shelton, who is lounging on the couch in a casual, but stylish outfit. His EWC Television Championship is propped up prominently on the back of the couch, glinting under the studio lights.
"Nineteen other so-called 'competitors' who actually think they have a shot at winning the Rumble?” Amis says with a mock irritation, flipping through the script lazily before tossing it aside with a scoff. “Please, this is going to be easier than my last title defence. But sure, let’s humour them."
The laugh track hums as a familiar sitcom-style doorbell sound rings out. Amis rolls his eyes, his expression clearly annoyed but tinged with amusement as he drags himself off the couch. The audience chuckles at his exaggerated, reluctant movements.
"Who could it be this time?” Amis Shelton grumbles as he walks to the door. “Another delusional challenger hoping to convince themselves they have a snowball’s chance in hell of taking my Television Championship from me?"
He swings open the door with a flourish, revealing three actors standing in line, dressed as EWC’s top contenders: Ibuki Ito, Ace King, and Cosmo Goldworthy. Each character is decked out in their signature look; ‘Ibuki’ wears his wrestling gear with a leather jacket slung over his shoulder, ‘Ace’ is clad in a leather vest and jeans with an unmistakable veteran swagger, and ‘Cosmo’ is sporting a flashy sequined jacket and designer sunglasses, oozing confidence. The audience erupts into cheers as the three make their entrance, each actor playing up their character’s quirks, earning loud laughs from the audience.
"Well, well, well… if it isn’t the three fuckin’ musketeers of misplaced hope.” Amis says, feigning surprise and delight. “Welcome to my little world, gentlemen."
The actors step inside, each taking a spot around the living room. Ibuki stands tall with his arms crossed, Ace leans casually against the wall with a confident smirk, and Cosmo makes a show of adjusting his jacket, flashing a grin to the "audience" as he strikes a pose. Amis crosses his arms, staring at his three "guests" with a mix of amusement and derision. The scene is set for the sitcom-style showdown.
"These are the big threats? The so-called men standing in my way at the Rumble?” Amis says with a cheeky grin. “Please. This cast couldn't intimidate a toddler."
The actors portraying Cosmo, Ace, and Ibuki puff their chests in unison, trying to look more formidable. The audience chuckles as Amis holds out his arms in a "come at me" gesture.
"You don’t know what I’ve been through, Shelton!” Cosmo Goldworthy steps forward. “I faced Narumi in a Torture Chamber, I visited Sawney Bean's Cannibal Cave... I’m ready for anything!"
"Let me get this straight. You think you can scare me because you went on a haunted house tour? What’s next, you gonna bring out a flashlight and tell ghost stories?” Amis raises an eyebrow. “Tell me, Cosmo, did you bring your good pal Dimitri along for this little scene, or is he too busy lurking behind you with a flashlight like he did at the Edinburgh Dungeon? Trying to scare people into thinking you're as tough as your trench coat? Because trust me, all the Dior in the world can't cover up the fact that deep down, you’re still just that kid hoping to prove he belongs."
Cosmo’s expression tightens, and the audience gasps playfully at the insult. Amis walks around him, circling like a shark, his mocking tone thick with sarcasm.
"You know, for someone who’s all about being 'driven' and 'fighting for the people,' you sure do a lot of talking about what you could’ve done if things had gone your way. Meltdown in Mexico, Brawl #616… it’s always the same story. You need to remind everyone how almost winning against Lad Morales would’ve meant something if not for 'The Path' getting in the way, or how eating fried chicken and waffles in San Francisco somehow makes you a man of the people."
The audience laughs, while Cosmo’s face flushes with irritation. Amis seizes the moment, his tone dropping to one of feigned sympathy.
"Look, I get it, Cosmo. You’re trying to buy back your hood, uplift the community, all that 'inspiring' talk. But let’s call a spade a spade. You’re more concerned about convincing yourself you’ve changed than you are about actually doing it. When you walk into that Rumble, are you going to be fighting for the fans, your mom, or just to finally convince yourself that you belong at the top? Because all this time, lad, it sounds like you're still trying to figure out whether you're the hero or just the hype."
The audience reacts with “oohs,” as Cosmo’s face hardens. Amis steps back, raising his hands mockingly as if giving Cosmo space to retort.
"Amis, you can run your mouth all you want, but you’ll be eating those words soon enough.” Cosmo clenches his jaw. “The difference between us is that I’m actually trying to change-"
"Oh, I know, Cosmo. You’re 'trying.' You’re always trying. Trying to win, trying to convince everyone you’re the real deal, trying to be something you’re not.” Amis cuts him off, chuckling. “But you know what I’m doing? Winning. While you’re still figuring out how to feel good about a victory without a moral crisis."
Amis Shelton turns his attention to the actor playing Ace King, who has helped himself to a glass of tap water.
"Well, well, well… if it isn’t ‘The Gambler’ himself, back from whatever old folks’ home you’ve crawled out of.” Amis says with a sardonic grin. “What is it, Ace? You got tired of waiting for your pudding cup and decided to try your luck in the Rumble again?"
The studio audience erupts in laughter, while ‘Ace’ rolls his eyes, visibly annoyed by Amis’ taunts. Amis steps closer, his expression shifting from playful mockery to something more serious.
"See, I know all about you, Ace. I remember 2018, Insanity Cage… all 7 of us fighting for that Undisputed Championship. But what happened? We both came up short, didn’t we?” Amis says, his voice dropping but the intensity rising. “You’ve spent the better part of a decade chasing that same glory, trying to convince everyone that you’re still the guy who can carry this company on your back. But here’s the thing, Ace… you’re not. You’re a relic of a different era, trying to keep up in a world that’s moved past you."
Amis turns his back to ‘Ace’ for a moment, as if bored with the conversation. The studio audience chuckles as ‘Ace’ stands up from the couch, clearly irritated.
"You think you know what it’s like to stand in my shoes, Amis?” ‘Ace King’ steps forward defensively. “I’ve survived the Insanity Cage, I’ve held that Undisputed Championship, and I’m still here fighting for it-"
"Yeah, you’ve survived. But at what cost, Ace? You keep talking about how you’re never gonna break, but I’ve seen the cracks. I’ve seen you struggle to keep up with the likes of Xavier Reid and Lad Morales.” Amis spins around once more. “Hell, Moxie kicked your ass and ran you out of Rampage. You’re always there, always just close enough to the spotlight, but never quite able to grab it anymore, are you?"
Amis backs up slightly, pacing again as he gestures grandly to the apartment, the audience, and the scene at large.
"You know what the Rumble is, Ace? It’s not just another opportunity for you to walk down memory lane and reminisce about past glories. It’s a battlefield, and only the strongest survive. You’ve got that ‘never say die’ attitude, and I respect that… but let’s not kid ourselves. This isn’t your redemption story. This is my moment to finally step out of the shadows and put guys like you out of their fuckin’ misery."
The audience erupts in cheers and applause, as Amis walks back to ‘Ace,’ who is now visibly fuming. Amis puts a hand on his shoulder, almost mockingly, then shrugs as he releases it.
"Go ahead, King. Roll the dice one more time. Maybe you’ll get lucky, or maybe, just like in 2018, you’ll come up short when it matters most. Either way, I’ll be there to toss you over the top rope and remind everyone why the ‘Immortal Legend’ is still the man to beat."
The actor playing ‘Ace King’ clenches his jaw, clearly struggling to keep his composure as Amis gives one last smirk before turning to the last unaddressed man in the room, Ibuki, who sits cross-legged on the floor meditating.
"Oh, look at you, Ibuki. The ‘Ace of Paramount,’ the man who’s ‘stepped out of the shadows’ to reclaim his glory.” Amis says with a mocking reverence and slowly claps. “And here you are, meditating in the middle of my apartment, like you’re about to unleash some ancient fighting spirit on all of us. Very impressive."
The audience chuckles, while ‘Ibuki’ doesn’t flinch, maintaining his serene composure. Amis circles him, eyes narrowed as he examines his rival’s stance.
"Tell me, Ibuki, does sitting there with your eyes closed help you forget how you were handed that Rumble victory back in 2021? Or does it just make it easier to ignore the fact that you, Melody Malone, and my former student Moxie all hit the floor at the same time? That was the most controversial win in Rumble history, and you know it."
Amis crouches down, eye level with ‘Ibuki,’ who finally opens his eyes to glare back. The tension in the room is palpable as Amis continues, his voice low and cutting.
"But here’s the problem, ‘Ace.’ You keep telling everyone how you’re going to step back into the spotlight and reclaim your place at the top. Yet, here we are, and you’re still just lurking in the background, trying to remind everyone that you’re a threat. The fact that you’re still talking about proving yourself should tell you everything you need to know."
‘Ibuki’ rises to his feet, his expression hardening as he prepares to respond, but Amis is already on the attack.
"Don’t even try to play the ‘I’ve overcome adversity’ card, either. Sure, you had a rough start in your career, stumbling over every other big name while trying to live up to this ‘Ace’ title your manager slapped on you. But we’ve all had our rough patches, Ibuki. What matters is how we rise above them. And let’s be honest, for every big win you’ve had, there’s been a loss that’s knocked you right back down."
Amis steps closer, almost nose-to-nose with ‘Ibuki,’ the intensity radiating off of him.
"You call yourself the best pure striker in the EWC, but that’s all you’ve got, strikes. You talk about knocking people out with the Kettei-Da like it’s some guaranteed game-ender. But I’ve faced down every type of opponent, from submission specialists to high-flyers to, yes, even strikers like you. So, if you think you’re going to scare me with some fancy knee to the head, you’d better think again."
The actor playing ‘Ibuki’ clenches his fists, his face tightening with anger, but Amis isn’t finished. He takes one more step forward, his voice dripping with venom.
"Face it, Ibuki, you’ve always been second best. Whether it was in that Rumble, where you needed a controversial finish to be declared a winner, or now, as you struggle to claw your way back into relevance. At the Rumble, you won’t just be dealing with a Rick Rampage. You’ll be dealing with me, the man who’s spent his entire career proving people like you wrong."
Amis backs away, throwing his arms wide as he addresses the camera, his eyes gleaming with confidence.
"I’m not here to relive old glory or remind people of what I used to be. I’m here to win, and I’ll do it at the expense of everyone including you, Ibuki. So bring your best strikes, your best moves. It won’t matter when you’re the one hitting the floor, and I’m standing tall with a ticket to WrestleFest in my hand!"
"You know, Amis, you might want to start practising how to lose gracefully.” Cosmo pipes up again smugly. “It’s going to happen soon."
Cosmo’s jab elicits a chuckle from the studio audience, but Amis rolls his eyes and steps forward with a mischievous grin.
"You know what, Cosmo? You’re absolutely right…"
Suddenly, Amis springs into action, reaching behind Cosmo and pulling his sequined jacket over his head like a hockey player. With a yank, he twists Cosmo’s arms up in the sleeves, rendering him momentarily helpless. Amis smirks at the camera
"...right about this being the easiest fight of my career!"
The slapstick brawl erupts, and the audience laughs as Ibuki Ito lunges at Amis. Amis sidesteps him, causing Ibuki to crash headfirst into the coffee table, sending wrestling magazines flying everywhere. Ace King joins the fray, swinging at Amis with a surprisingly clumsy punch, but Amis ducks and slaps a pie conveniently placed on the kitchen side into Ace’s face, the whipped cream splattering everywhere.
The audience roars with laughter as Ace stumbles backward, trying to wipe the pie from his eyes. Meanwhile, Amis quickly grabs the three competitors by the back of their shirts, dragging them toward the window. With an exaggerated grunt, one by one, he sends them flying out the conveniently open window. The sound of a cartoonish crash and cat yowl plays as each man lands "outside."
"And that, my friends, is how you deal with anyone stupid enough to think they’re taking my spotlight at WrestleFest."
The audience erupts in laughter and applause as Amis strolls back to the couch, nonchalantly picking up his championship belt and draping it over his shoulder. Just then, the doorbell rings again, and he rolls his eyes. The scene fades to black.
