(OOC Note: This is something completely different and has no ties with any storylines currently going on as of now. This is moreso of a prequel. If more people want more, I’ll do more. For now, enjoy!)

V.O.: I thought my days of violence were over. After the whole NAFTA debacle, I decided that pro wrestling isn’t for me. I needed to get into a different bracket. Something a bit more slowed down...

We fade in from black. We see a heavy set man’s silhouette behind a privacy glass door. On the front, all in bold, read: Karl Klutchinson, Private Investigator. We then dissolve into the office, where we see Karl Klutchinson, better known as Klutch, pacing back and forth. To his right is a chalkboard, with pictures of various dogs taped to it. Multiple lines pointing to the center, the center being a drawn question mark.

Klutch V.O.: I’ve been on this dog napping case for the past six months. You would think each Fido, Rex, and Ol’ Yeller just ran away on their own. But no. Each one left a calling card.

Klutch then grabs a business card up off the desk. On it was scribbled “?”

Klutch V.O.: Mr. E. Or at least that’s what I’ve been calling him. It’s been a strange journey so far, much of the details don’t matter right now. What matters is this night. Tonight. I’ve finally cracked the case. I don’t have a name, I don’t have a number. But I finally have a location. 703 Mockingbird Street. That’s a name I’ll never forget. Because tonight, on this night...I’m going to catch Mr. E.

Klutch then goes to the drawers in his desk and grabs his gun, a Taurus Judge Magnum. One of the only handguns to be able to shoot .410 gague shotgun shells. He then grabs his brown trench coat and fedora hat.

Klutch V.O.: Or so I thought.

Dissolve to an abandoned warehouse. Klutch pulls in a 1980 Ford Pinto. He shuts off the lights and kills the engine. He puts it into park and starts to look around.

Klutch V.O.: Now I’m fully aware that a former professional wrestler dressed like a 1940’s mob member driving in a car that killed one hundred and eighty people may seem ridiculous to you all. But you have to keep in mind: I got that car for a steal and I didn’t feel like a Private I without the hat and trenchcoat. But all of that will play a role. At least the Pinto will. The outfit won’t really matter after tonight, but it’s important to the story.

Klutch looks out his driver’s side window. He sees multiple figures, one carrying a dog, walking into the factory. Klutch looks at the side more closely and sees it says “Acne Labs Inc.” on the side.

Klutch V.O.: Mrs. Robinson’s dog. A King Charles Spaniel. Just went missing last week. Well, not so much missing anymore. But why the secrecy? Why at the abandoned Acne factory? Well I’m not one to leave questions unanswered.

Klutch gets out of his car, and starts to sneak around. We then cut to him finding an unlocked door. He enters. We then cut to Klutch walking a catwalk above the scene. We see all of the dogs we saw previously, as well as other dogs, whimpering in cages, afraid for their lives. We see the King Charles Spaniel being held by one of the goons we saw earlier. Then one man, holding a beaker in one hand and a dropper in another, is seen dropping liquid on the King Charles Spaniel. The dog is screaming for help.

Dropper Man: Hold still, you little mutt.

Klutch V.O.: I couldn’t believe what I saw seeing. These monsters are torturing these innocent creatures. I didn’t get into the lost pet racket to see this happen.

Klutch takes more steps, looking down to see glowing green goo under him. He then gets within earshot of the goons, and withdraws his weapon

Klutch: HEY! Is this a 24 hour kennel or what?!

Dropper Man: STOP HIM! HE’S SEEN EVERYTHING

The goons start toward Klutch, going towards a set of stairs near him that lead straight to him.

Klutch V.O: Now had I know the stairs were right there, I would have just sneaked up behind them and yelled that killer one liner. But, hey, I was in the moment. Plus that was a pretty good one liner too. I digress.

The goons begin to shoot at Klutch, missing shot after shot. Klutch, also shooting, isn't that great of a shot either, but he shoots one of the poles holding the goons and himself on the catwalk. Klutch, then out of bullets, motions for them to pick a fight. One swing, boom. One goon down. Another swing, another goon down. Swift kick to the groin, goodbye goon number three. The catwalk makes a loud “bang” and another pole falls off. Klutch, realizing he was on the section of the catwalk damaged, tries to make his way off of the section, Then, right when he turns around, he sees Dropper Man, standing of the safe side. The other goons make their way to the opposite side of Klutch, leaving him in great danger.

Dropper Man: So...you’re the guy that’s been following my tracks.

Klutch: So...you’re the guy obsessed with the question marks and dogs.

Dropper Man: The very same.

Klutch V.O: Mr. E! I knew that guy gave me the creeps.

Klutch: So...you uh...gonna let me through?

Mr. E: I was thinking more so...let you down.

Mr. E pulls out a gun, shooting one of the last two support beams, causing the section of catwalk to tip, putting Klutch right over the glowing green goo.

Klutch: You know, we can talk about this? At most you’ll get two, three years tops. Dognapping isn’t a federal offense, you know?

Mr. E.: Yes...but holding nuclear fallout is.

Klutch: Nuclear fallout? What the hell are you doing around here?

Mr. E.: Just taking care of the garbage.

*He then shoots the last support beam, sending Klutch straight down into what we now know is nuclear fallout. We hear a big splash. The scene starts to go in slow motion.

Klutch V.O: Now I know what you’re thinking: Why are we hearing your voice after the fact? How are we hearing your voice? Why did you give up wrestling to look for lost dogs? Well...like I said earlier...it’s only a part of the story.

To Be Continued...?