It was a lovely Fall day in sunny Miami, Florida.

That perfect time of year when the picturesque 98 degree beach weather briefly gives way to brisk, refreshing 91 degree sweater weather.

However, a certain ultrapowerful CEO was curling her fists, examining her knuckles the same way a lioness might admire her claws before garroting a gazelle.

She presses down on her intercom.

”SEND IN THE CLOWN.”

”...Ma’am, there’s a lot of them. You’re going to have to be more specific.”

”MARI DOES NOT LEARN THE NAMES OF HER UNDERLINGS. SEND IN THE ONE I WANT.”

…At the front desk, Secretary Clown scratches his big white-painted scalp, staring down at a comically larger clipboard, with a list of of 2000 clown names…

”Ugh… let’s see… Glutton for Punishment Clown, Takes Criticism Well Clown, Impervious to Emotional Damage Clown, The Clown Mari Wants Clown… Whiiiiiich one…”

Suddenly, Secretary Clown’s eyes widen on a name!

”Oooh! He’ll do!”

---

Within the executive suite of the VilaroGlobal MegaHQ (because simply calling it HQ Mari found insufficient for its grandiosity…)

Marisol Vilaro is sitting in her executive chair in a purple pantsuit, looking angry.

Furious even.

Suddenly, her office door opens, with the sounds of squeaky clown shoes crossing the floor carefully.

”You… um… wanted to see me, Miss Vil-?”

”SILENCE.” Mari’s words cut through the air like a samurai’s cuisinart food processor.

Vilaro spun her chair around with a vicious spin, like a mongoose turning on a cobra that wandered into the wrong den… She eyed him as if she was trying to eviscerate him apart with her eyes…

”Do you know why you’re here?”

From the corner of the room in a beanbag chair, Mind Blown Clown looks up from his kaleidoscope to put his head on his hands.

”Oh maaaaaaan, that’s so deep… Do any of us know why we’re here?”

”GET OUT, YOU FILTHY HIPPIE.”

Mind Blown Clown slowly stands up and starts to walk out, before glancing through his kaleidoscope… Looking through it is not the usual interweaving hexagons, but instead a picture of the Mariana Trench.

”Oh man… so deep…”

Mind Blown Clown passes the clown that just entered.

”I was speaking to YOU! Why did Mari call you in here?”

The clown looks relieved.

”Oh! I don’t know why Mari called me in here? Have you seen her? Could you ask her? Maybe she c-”

”WHY WOULD MARI ASK MARI WHEN MARI KNOWS?”

”Soooooooo deeeeeeeeeeep.” Mind Blown Clown murmurs through the door.

”You failed me out there, embarrassed me, and humiliated me!”

”I did? Are you su-”

”Do you know what it's like to have to deal with such incompetence?  Do you know what happens to those who fail me?!”

---

Out behind Vilaro HQ, Iron Fist Clown, Mari’s partner last Anarchy, is wearing a blindfold, standing in front of a clown firing squad, with a cigarette between his lips.

With his oversized iron hand, he lifts his blindfold to look into the camera.

”Still not the worst boss I’ve had.”

“I worked briefly for Ellen Degeneres.”

---

”I should have the tag team titles in my position, but no YOU HAD TO COST ME?! HOW YOU THINK THAT MAKES MY BRAND LOOK?!”

The clown scratches his head, really confused.

”...Um, Miss Vilaro, are you sure you have the right clown? I didn’t partner with you last Anarchy, I’m not Iron Fist Clown, I’m Interrupted Cl-”

”Now is not the time for games! If I wanted games and jokes at a time like this, I’d hire the opponents they are putting out now!”

”You mean John Blade and Jay Fe-”

”NEVER ELABORATE ON MARI’S WORDS. Mari chooses the words she selects with the utmost care. Mari has no need for your words when the words flowing from her mouth are already perfect.”

Mari spins, turning to look out the glass plate windows of the executive suite with disgust and contempt.

”One of these opponents wields a golden blade.. Feh! The Blade Division! Mari would never need a weapon. MARI’S BODY IS THE ULTIMATE WEAPON! MARI WILL DEMONSTRATE.”

She snaps her fingers.

Two clowns suddenly enter. Between them is a serving tray on a cart.

Brings Stuff to Mari Clown pulls off the serving tray cover to reveal…

A HUMONGOUS WATERMELON.

”As you requested, Madam.” Brings Stuff to Mari Clown straightens his tie professionally.

It spins when he pulls on it, because even if he is a professional, he’s still a fucking clown.

Mari lifts the watermelon off the tray.

And places it under her ass, securing it between her thighs.

”HRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!”

FWUUUUUUUUUUSH.

In one flexing motion, Mari’s thunder thighs KERACK like a maelstrom and the floor is now covered in crushed watermelon.

”Very good, Madam.” Brings Stuff to Mari Clown nods, putting the cover back on the tray. ”My associate and I will be leaving. Come, Humorously Timed Erection Clown.”

…Humorously Timed Erection Clown glances up from the sight of Mari crushing a watermelon between her thighs. ”Sorry, what? I was…”

Humorously Timed Erection Clown glances downward.

His eyes widen.

He grabs the serving tray and covers his lower half.

”Ah, yes, sorry, I’m… er… I’ll just take this… to have it… cleaned…”

Brings Stuff to Mari Clown and Humorously Timed Erection Clown both leave.

There’s a metallic clank with each of Humorously Timed Erection Clown’s steps, as if something is hitting the tray as he walks…

Mari spins back toward Interrupted Cl-

”WELL?!? What makes you worthy of being my partner after you let me down?!”

”B-b-but, Ma’am! That wasn’t me! That was Iron Fi-”

”FEH!” Mari fumes! ”This clown! That clown! You’re all the same clown!”

Easily Offended Clown gasps. ”That’s Clownist!”

”Just like those Blade Division rejects! They all talk to Tig Collins week in and week out. They all cut the same promo over and over! They all do the same stupid moves! According to their profiles, they’re all strong, all determined, and all overconfident!”

Mari’s fists clench, possessed by an unbridled rage.

”But they are NOT stronger than Mari!”

”They are NOT more determined than Mari!”

”They are NOT more overconfident than Mari!” Concludes Follows Patterns Clown.

”That Jonathan Blade wields a golden blade? Mari wields GOLDEN TITLES! A trophy case full of gleaming accomplishments that Jonathan Blade could never dream of! And Mari earned every last one of them!”

Mari walks to her trophy case… it has her championships in other companies…

Her X-Treme Championship belt….

And her Revolution Title…

The one that… that night, she had to wrap around Summer Page’s waist…

She stares at it furiously…

Before spinning on the clown.

”And that Jay Fetu! Calling himself Main Event! Does a main eventer have to beg to be placed in title matches, HMMM?”[/purple

”Well, I wouldn’t think s-”

[purple]”Does a main eventer keep challenging Miss Furry every week and losing every time some PENDEJO in management makes the mistake of giving him another opportunity to FUCK IT UP?”

”That doesn’t seem like it would describe a main eve-”

”Does a main eventer have to call himself Main Event?”

”...Okay, I’m starting to think these questions are rhetorica-”

”NO, FETU.” Mari shakes her head. ”A main eventer who calls himself Main Event is no main eventer at all. No one needs to call a main eventer Main Event. You know a Main Eventer because he’s booked in the MAIN EVENT.”

Mari points to a poster within her trophy case.

”How many times has Mari been in the main event? THREE TIMES!”

“August 9th, 2024, Anarchy!”

“June 29th, 2026, Anarchy!”

“October 24th, 2026, Anarchy!”

Mari stares at the camera with palpable disgust.

”FETU! You call yourself Main Event, but you only main-evented ONCE! August 6th, 2026, Anarchy! And you basically were another name to lob in the mix so when that geriatric old, out-of-shape windbag Centurion got winded and had to take a mid-match nap, there’d be someone else in the ring for Furry to toss around like free weights!”

Mari furiously stares daggers into the camera.

”You are both pathetic and Mari would break you herself if she could.”

”But management, in its infinite foolishness, has booked me along with a clown…”

Mari spins back on the clown in her office.

”Which brings me to you.”

”M-m-m-meeeeee?”

…

……

”Hey! I got to finish my senten-”

”YES, YOU!” Mari jabs a finger into his chest.

As her fingers presses into his pec, his pec quietly honks.

”Who are you, little clown? You, who can’t even speak without someone talking over you? Do you think Mari needs a sniveling little worm like you?”

”...I mean…”

”You mean, WHAT, little clown?”

”...I just…”

”Just WHAT?!?” Mari cups her hand around her ear as if trying to listen closely. ”Speak up, little Clown! If you want to be heard, how about you say it as if you operate a pair of testicles!”

---

”I bet you never thought you’d see, Neil deGrasse Tyson again in one of these, huh?”

“Well, guess what? I still fucking love you, Lindsay. There, I said it.”

“I’m going to be at the Marriott Inn at 7:45 pm tonight with wine coolers and a Lionel Richie album.”

“You can be there or…”

Off-screen, Producer Clown is yelling something unintelligible.

”I DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT THE SCIENCE OF CLOWN TESTICLES! I’M SAVING MY MARRIAGE$ RIGHT NOW.”

---

”Go on, Bitch Clown! Speak up!”

…

Interrupting Clown tightens his fists…

As he does, they honk.



Mari scoffs. ”I didn’t think so. You are not worthy of being Mari’s partner. So why don’t y-”

”Why don’t you SHUT UP?”

…

”You wanna blame your partner for coming up short?”

“Why don’t you take a look in the mirror and point some of that blame at yourself?”

“For all that talk about how perfect you are, you sure didn’t look perfect when Summer Page pinned you at Relentless!”

“You know why Roger and Stu were both joking about Carrying Mari Clown?”

“Because, let’s face it, you’ve never been a tag-team talent.”

“You make a stupid point to be the star, and then it blows up in your face when you can’t play nice and that’s everyone’s problem but yours.”

“You lost the Bashmaster Classic with fucking ATARA RAVEN on your side.”

“You lost a tag match with SARAH WOLF against SOLOMON KLINE.”

“You got dragged over Betsy Granger by Lionel Pennyfarthing, and then were too stupid to actually team with him, so he ended up working with a half-baked Gravy clone.”

“And if you can’t carry your own weight… if Stu and Roger are right, and you need to get carried by a clown… then why don’t you get out of my way and I’ll beat Blade and Fetu myself!”

…

Interrupting Clown clears his throat.

”...That’s the longest I’ve ever spoken without getting interru-”

BZZZZZZZT Mari presses down on her intercom.

”CLOWN.”

”Ma’am. You really have to be more specific.”

”GET THIS CLOWN A VILARO BLAZER.”

Mari smirks, impressed.

”He’s going to be my partner.”