SUFFERIN' SUCKATE

The stench of cigar smoke.

Just when you think that things can't get any worse...

That's when the universe pops up and roundhouse kicks you in the face. That's exactly how Booker T feels as he stares at the weathered and worn face of a man he hasn't seen since the WWF bought out WCW... "Lightning Foot" Jerry Flynn. Taking a puff from his cigar, he steps out of the shadows and smiles a crooked, haggard smile. Booker T's nostrils flare and without waiting for Flynn to explain his presence or his motivations, Booker T snaps.

BOOKER T: Jerry Flynn, if eva' there was a man bold enough t' innerupt my kung fu... it would certainly be yo' ass. I neva' thought I'd see you again, honky... but I'm glad you're here cause I been owin' you somethin' for a long long time-- KI-YAAAAAAAH!

Booker T lunges at Flynn and awkwardly throws a shuffling side kick in his direction. Older and fatter, Flynn side steps the gesture and swats Booker T's leg away before slowly dropping to one knee and sweeping his leg out from under him! Booker T falls flat on his back, the wind driven from his lungs. Still chomping on his cigar, Flynn immediately goes for a hammer punch but Booker T rolls out of the way and Flynn cracks the bare concrete upon impact! Booker T scrambles back to his feet and slings his head side to side, whipping his hair in every direction. Still on one knee, Flynn grunts and executes a slow and steady forward roll before catching Booker T's ankle and whipping his leg out from under him! Booker T tumbles forward but shows no sign of pain as he returns to his feet with a stiff and lazy spinaroonie.

JERRY FLYNN: I see you've still got some moves, afro samurai.

Booker T's eyes narrow and he assumes a fighting stance.

BOOKER T: I swore I'd neva' answer t' that name again.

Taking another puff from his cigar, Flynn smirks.

JERRY FLYNN: This fight only ends one of two ways--

He clenches a tight fist and holds it out toward Booker T.

JERRY FLYNN: I either explode your cortex or I hammer punch your clavicle.

Smoke billows out of his nose like a raging bull.

JERRY FLYNN: What's it gonna be?

Booker T's upper lip curls in disgust.

BOOKER T: Defend yo' self, fiend.

They clash and Booker T immediately executes a picture perfect palm strike to Flynn's mid-section, sending him back a step. Undeterred, Flynn steps forward and nails Booker T in his own mid-section with a knee lift before driving his elbow right between his shoulder blades. Booker T goes down to both knees and Flynn grabs a handful of his hair. He attempts to drive his knee into Booker T's face, but Booker catches his knee and uses pure brute strength to force it down... and then take a bite out of Flynn's thigh! Flynn backs up and grips his thigh, growling with pain and dropping his cigar in the progress, where it rolls into the mess left behind by an overturned trash can. The garbage begins to catch fire but Flynn and Booker T are too into their duel to notice.

JIMMY WANG YANG: Ya'll... hey, ya'll...

Jimmy Wang Yang tries to warn them but it's too late as the fire spreads up the wall of the dojo. Jimmy runs into a backroom and finds a fire extinguisher. He rushes back out onto the main floor and does what he can to put out the flames... but the extinguisher runs out of juice within seconds! He looks over at Booker T and Flynn as they grip each other's throats with tiger claw holds and struggle against one another.

JIMMY WANG YANG: Booker Man, ya' didn't have the extinguishers recharged, pardner!

Without even looking at Yang, he swats Flynn's hand down and away from his throat and then catches his wrist, nailing him with a quick HARLEM SIDEKICK! Flynn goes down hard and Booker T glares at him before cutting his eyes toward Yang.

BOOKER T: Hell naw, I didn't. Them freezies ain' free!

There's tears in Yang's eyes as he looks around at the flaming mess.

JIMMY WANG YANG: We gotta' get outta' here, pardner. It's comin' down around us!

Booker T points toward the exit.

BOOKER T: You go, Jimmy Wang Yang. Save yo' self.

Booker T looks down dramatically at Jerry Flynn, still lying on his back.

BOOKER T: They ain' nothin' left fo' me out there, son.

Jimmy Wang Yang looks deeply saddened by this and heads for the exit. As he crosses the room, Flynn comes alive and sweeps Booker T's legs, bringing him down to the floor next to him. Flynn quickly mounts him and raises his fist, prepared to deal the death blow.

JERRY FLYNN: You shoulda' finished me when you had the chance, asshole.

Standing in the doorway, Yang cries out to Booker T.

JIMMY WANG YANG: What about the shampoo commercial, Book? What about the money? What about Rok-C? And what about me? What in tarnation am I supposed to do without my best friend?

Booker T turns his head and looks at Yang. They lock eyes. The entire rear portion of the building collapses. Fire is everywhere. Jimmy Wang Yang dives out of the way as the rest of the room comes down. Lying on the sidewalk just outside the building, he looks up and can't believe what he sees... fire, wreckage... no sign of life.

Booker T is dead.

There's sirens in the distance. It feels like forever before the fire engines actually arrive on site. Within minutes, they have the fire under control. In that time, Rok-C arrives with tears in her eyes. She immediately runs over and hugs Yang. They hold each other tightly before letting go and turning to face the flaming wreckage.

JIMMY WANG YANG: I'm sorry, Rok. I tried t' stop 'em but it was done too late.

She wipes away a tear.

ROK-C: This is all my fault. If only I had stayed. I could've prevented this.

There's a crash.

A fire fighter is thrown from the wreckage. Another emerges from the smoke, running in fear. As the smoke begins to clear, we see Booker T and Jerry Flynn fighting the fire fighters who have come here to save them. Flynn headbutts one of them so hard that it shatters his protective mask. Booker T boots one in the stomach and executes a picture perfect Harlem axe kick, sending him face first into the smoldering mess. Booker T picks up a discarded fire helmet and puts it on his head. Flynn picks up a still-burning piece of wood and lights another cigar. Booker T and Jerry Flynn approach Yang and Rok-C. Yang hugs Booker T, but Rok-C just looks confused.

ROK-C: Book... why are you attacking fire fighters!? Oh my god!

BOOKER T: Those assassins dressed up like 9/11 heroes!? NUH-UH!

JERRY FLYNN: God damn communists is what they were.

ROK-C: They were trying to save you.

Booker T turns and looks at the ruins that used to be his dojo.

BOOKER T: They didn't save my black ass.

He takes a deep breath.

BOOKER T: Not by a long shot.

He dramatically turns and looks at Jimmy Wang Yang.

BOOKER T: This sucka' ass foo' saved me.

He places his hand on Rok-C's shoulder.

BOOKER T: Yo' stubborn ass saved me, shorty.

He stares off into the distance.

BOOKER T: Now, I gots a Suckate Tournament final t' prepare for... 'n I need ya'll t' have my back, aiight. This Drake Maverick sucka' done been up in my business for far too long... 'n that's comin' to a end at the Grand Canyon, ya' feel me?

Flynn puffs on his cigar.

JERRY FLYNN: With my help, there's no way you're losing to that wimp.

Booker T nods and then walks away toward the sunset. Jerry Flynn follows him.

ROK-C: Book, what about the dojo?

BOOKER T: They ain' no time t' dwell on the past, little dilly.

JERRY FLYNN: Probably need to get outta here before the cops show up anyway.

JIMMY WANG YANG: Prolly a good idea. Ya'll whipped the snot outta quite a few heroes back there.

Flynn, Booker T, and Wang Yang continues walking away. Rok-C turns and looks at the burned out shell of a building. The fire fighters are collecting themselves and helping each other up.

ROK-C: This is it.

A single tears rolls down her cheek.

ROK-C: This is the life I've chosen.

With a deep breath, she turns and runs to catch up.

Together, they disappear in the distance.