“I told you this was a mistake.”

“No you didn’t. I believe your exact words were, ‘Trust me.’”

“I’m also the man who thought the Gobots would outlast the Transformers. You should’ve learned then,” twenty-five year-old Chad Merritt said, lambasting his business partner and best friend Stephen Thomas. “We should’ve just run at the YMCA or Salvation Army. This warehouse isn’t a safe bet to withstand a wet fart.” Merritt sighed as he looked over the aging warehouse on Market St. She’s been a Supercar lot and grocery store before playing hostess to amateur night.

“The Salvation Army. Right. Pay to have the disabled and homeless moved for the night while we entertain,” Thomas offered sarcastically. “Damn you for making me use part of my college fund on this. Look at it Chad,” Thomas depressively waves at the warehouse, “it looks like somebody did a real bad job of remodeling after a fire.”

“You weren’t going to college anyway.”

The parking lot, mostly empty, sits inviting people to enter. By the look and feel, whoever chooses to reside within her walls tonight will be making a horrible, horrible mistake.

“Maybe it's just a late arriving crowd Steve.”

“Yeah, I'm sure the 350 we need for a sellout just stopped off for some Jr. Mints.”

“What's wrong with that? Jr. Mints are refreshing.”

“That's true,” Thomas thinks for a moment, “they are.”

“The night won't be a total bust. With the money we'll make from the refreshment stands, we may break even.”
“Chad.....”

“Yes?”

“WE HAVE NO REFRESHMENT STANDS!”

“I know, okay!! What are we doing here? We have no idea how to run a wrestling promotion!”

“And the Wright Brothers had no idea how to fly either.”

“Yeah, I’m sure this will turn out as well.”

“We're in Carolina, it was my time to offer the hourly Wright Brothers tribute. Look, we're here. Whether we like it or not, we've come this far.....we can't stop now. “
Or…

“Can we?”

“Surely not?”

“Ah! What we were thinking!?”

“That we needed an overly elaborate scheme to meet women.”

“There we are.”

As Chad and Steve bicker, a man who appears to be about three feet tall walks up to the gate.

“Excuse me, is this the show promoted by Chad Merritt and,” the midget looks at his program, “Stephen Thomas.”

“Yes it is! Welcome!”

“This is where women mud wrestle right? Should we really be out in the open like this?”

They both pause, for all their hard work they never had considered outright pornography. Yet another in a series of oversights for the night.

“Sadly not, this is,” Chad smiles and looks at his best friend, ‘the CSWA.’”

“I like it.”

“Now I’ve got wood to lose before the night is done.”

“Go on in, and sit down….” Thomas fishes for a name.

“Lyle.”

“…Lyle, and you’ll be sobered up by 8.”

“Terrific.”

Lyle walks through the admission gate. As he disappears into the building, the smile residing on Chad's face falls off.

“What's wrong with you!? Look at the people you're letting through the gates! FREAKS, I TELL YOU FREAKS! Hey if we've still got time I can rent an elephant and we'll call it the circus!”

“Easy! Lyle's a person too! Albeit a very small one.”

“Small minded as well...I bet. It's almost showtime, we better get ready.”

“I can't believe with all the flyers you passed out that no more than 150 people turned out.”

“Oh…” Chad’s voice sinks.

“What?!”

“Those were for me to pass out?”

Thomas snaps and tackles Merritt.

“How could you be so dumb!!!”

Chad reaches up with his left hand and pushes Stephen's face away....flipping the two, now Chad is on top of Thomas.

“Get off of me!!!”

“YOU'RE A STUPID MAN, A STUPID LITTLE MAN!“

A man in his late thirties, in dirty clothes, and who appears to be stone cold drunk, breaks up the fight.

“Break it up you two! I thought the wrestling tonight was supposed to be inside!”

“Who are you!?”

“The name is Marvin. I was hired to work the camera tonight. Now, I just need to find the two fools who hired me.”

“We’re the two fools! Now get to work. Having carnies roam outside the front doors sure as hell won’t encourage walk up sales.”

“You ready?” Chad straightens his jacket and wipes the sweat off his forehead.

Thomas clears his throat and against all odds, manages a smile. “No.”

“It's you and me. Sink Or Swim. Let's give it everything we've got.”