Raul at the traineing sinter...

Raul Stevens approaches the traineing sinter. He looks at the beat up truck, the rough wood lumber, the hand painted sign, and then looks down at his beige suit and shrugs with resignation.

He enters into the traineing sinter to find Buford tending the bar. Raul looks at the menu, and says:

Could I have a Margret Rita please? I'm looking for Bubba, does he happen to be in?

Buford eyeballs the stranger up and down, taking in his suit and the mans demeanor. Deciding that this man doesn't appear to be an immediate threat to him or his cousin, Buford's face gradually changes from guarded suspicion to his normal happy-go-lucky expression. He happily goes to work mixin up one of his favorite new drinks.

Setting the completed drink down in front of the sharply dressed man: Bubba ain't here right now. Ya just missed him, he's off to go talk to the GM bout the upcommin match. Care ta leave a message? I can see that it get's to em.

Buford, leans back against the wall of the bar and puts a tooth pick in the corner of his mouth, a mischievous grin creeping onto his face.

Raul cautiously takes a sip from the drink that Buford served. The taste isn't exactly what he expected, but it's not terrible either.

I haven't had the best of luck with messages lately. If it's all the same to you, I will just wait for him to return.

Raul looks around the bar searching for a place to sit, but then decides that while he might get his suit dirty standing, it's guaranteed to need a cleaning if he takes a seat. He alternates between taking small sips from his drink and setting it down on the bar, and is careful to not lean on it.

So - what do you put in this Margret Rita? I may have to add it to my recipe book at home.

Buford's grin widens at the compliment to his mix.

Proudly, Buford explains his mix: Well, I's learned that from my momma. It's just like a normal one, but we ain't got no Tequila, so's I use my moonshine. Plus, we ain't got no lime or lemon juice, so I's crush up this here lemon head candies and mix em in. But, I's do have salt!

Raul continues to take small sips of the drink as he waits for Bubba Gump to return.

Wow - and you had lemon heads just lying around to crush up. That's amazing. I also noticed that you offer some wrestling training. What kind of training do you offer. Do you do the training?

Bufords eyes light up at the opportunity to talk about his training skills with this new patron.

Buford: Hell's ya I does the trainin. I done taught my cousin everythan' he knows! Let's see... I's do mostly the technical stuff. But I's knows some of em high power hittin moves, and I's teach them high flyin moves... Hellfire, I's done studied every cotton pickin wrestler that's shown his face this side of... well, just bout anywhere.

Buford crosses his arms proudly across his chest and puffs himself up, trying to show his knowledge of his favorite sport through his immense size. Though his eyes are still as gleeful as they always are.

Well, I'm pretty new around here. Maybe, while we wait, you could give me a couple of pointers. Do you have any idea when Bubba's going to be back? I'd really like to speak with him.

Raul stands up and removes his suit coat, carefully folding it - and after looking all around, finally settles on draping it over the back of the cleanest chair he could find. He then unbuttons the cuff of his shirt and rolls up his sleeves.

Take it easy on me now! After those midgets got ahold of me last week, I'd like my face to remain unmarred for a bit.

Bufords face lights up at the opportunity to work with this new guy. He takes a big swig from the moonshine jug on the counter, then walks around the bar and begins moving the tables and chairs aside to give them some room.

While moving a table, Buford smirks: Ya ain’t gotta worry bout yer purdy face with me. It’s that Bakla ya need ta be worried ‘bout.

Unbuttoning his own sweat stained shirt, Buford turns to the stranger: Now, what kinda learnin you lookin fer? I’s myself been workin with Bubba on some his defensive positions. He got a tendency of not movin to the left fast nuff to avoid low moves…

Buford get’s a guilty look on his face: Oops, I shouldn’ta said nuthin bout that…

Shouldn’ta said nuthin bout what?: asks a voice from behind Raul.

Raul looks over his left shoulder and sees Bubba Gump standing there. He looks back to Buford and says calmly:

Can I pick up on this later? I am looking forward to having you offer input on my style and point out my weaknesses to me. I'd be grateful for any time you have to offer, but I do need to take a few minutes to speak with Mr. Gump.

Raul reluctantly reaches for his suit coat, which is still draped over a chair back, but the chair had gotten tipped over in the moving around of furniture. As Raul stands the chair back up and takes his coat off the ground, he quickly realizes that it's simply too dirty to wear respectably. He drapes it over his left arm, and turns to face Bubba Gump.

I don't want to take much of your time. I know this week has been a bit busy, and I understand that I'm very new here. Since I'm new, I'm not completely trusted. That's completely reasonable, I have no problem with that. Saying that, however, the last time I saw you, you were going to look over some paperwork that I left with you.

At the time, I felt that serving as a mediator would help bring the feud that is dividing the roster to a mutually beneficial end - but things continue to get worse. Based on my conversations with Mrs. Winslow who has asked me to serve as a mediator, I fear that things may continue to escalate, with a bad end in store for both factions.

Mrs. Winslow has asked me to deliver a message to you - but you need to know that these are not my words, nor do I consider myself a simple "messenger boy." This is the opening demands of Mr. Winslow in her efforts to begin negotiations. If you choose to have me serve as a mediator, I can bring your demands back to her - and begin to offer advice to her, and then in turn,to you, to help find a common ground in which both parties feel heard and understood.

Here are Mrs. Winslow's words, from several days ago:

while riot won at battleground, your boasts of scoring a victory over a company that allegedly mistreated you does not take into account the following:

a. riot is still out of business

b. you needed a longtime ufw talent to get you that victory

c. ufw is still signing your paychecks

you have until the start of the season to cease and desist this waste of time and energy you call a rebellion. otherwise, ufw will exercise its rights as your employer and assign you to sitting at home for the remaining duration of your contracts.

Raul lets the words hang for a few minutes and stares at the ground. He wants to, through nonverbal language, clearly communicate that these are not his words. After several seconds pass, he looks up at Bubba Gump, and quietly states.

If you and RIOT would like me to serve as a mediator, please sign my contract. I'd be happy to offer you advice and help you draft a reply.

Gump, who was in a foul mood when he came into the bar, looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel in his forehead after listening to what Raul had to say.

Buford, seeing his cousin begin to loose his temper, quickly grabs two large glass of brew. Quickly, he splashes one in his cousins face. When Gump turns to face his cousin, Buford splashes the second glass of brew in his face.

Gump wipes his face off and stares at his cousin, astonished that he would throw 2 glasses of brew at him. Buford, looking determined, tosses a towel at his cousin.

Buford: Don’t you go blowin yer top at this here kid. He don’t mean no harm with the words he brings. He just the messenger. Now, wipe yer face down, think fer a minute, an then give em yer response then.

Gump, seeing a look seldom seen on his cousins face, decides to be prudent and heed his words.

Gump: You’ll have ta pardon me for a bit while I clean up and get my head on strait.

Gump walks to the corner of the bar and wipes himself down while taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself. After a few moment’s, Gump, looking far more relaxed, returns to face the new guy.

Gump: I’s sorry bout that. It’s been a stressful day. First this mess with Jamal and me goin ‘gainst Chriso and Chasm, then I come back to this.

Gump clears his throat and straitens himself up: I’s considered yer words. And I’s done read yer papers. Here’s my reply ta both.

You tell that wind bag of a boss o yers that when what was left of Riot! Wrestlin came on to UFW, and we’s saw what was goin on round these parts, we’s tried to talk to the GM. But that feller then didn’t wanna listen ta me. Wouldn’t even talk ta me. So, we’s did what any good people woulda done. We’s had no choice than to start our revolution and get things right.

Gump begins to pace back and forth across the bar floor: And we’s didn’t need no victory against Uprisin. We’s was out there to prove a point, that we wasn’t backing down from bein threatened. That there Robert Conry? He done took it upon hisself to join a Cause he felt was right, and a better Cause than that group of fools tryin to keep that status quo.

Gump stops at the bar and pounds his fist into it as he speaks, emphasizing his points as he goes: So, if’n that ignorant wind bag of a hag wants to stop payin our salary? She’s got a surprise comin. It ain’t just me she’ll be benchin. It’s Robert Conry, too. And Jamal Fatz, and Ator, and The Dragon, Dank Buddha, Bubba Chubbs, TheRockAttitude, War, JK Flash, Agrojagg, and Supreme Knight. And that’s just the ones that have chosen to stand in support of this Cause. If’n she’s willin ta lose a full quarter of her roster, that’s her call.

Seeing his cousin getting agitated again, Buford lifts up another glass of brew. Gump, seeing his cousin armed again pauses, takes the glass from him, and down’s the entire contents in one huge gulp.

Returning his attention to Raul he slowly walks toward him: Now, the only demand we’s ever made, is to clean up this here Federation. Too many people done runnin ‘round, abusin other wrestlers… abusin the staff, and abusin this company. That’s the thing we don’t stand for. WE… we will continue our fight for what we’s believe in.

Gump walks up to within inches of Rauls, allowing the stentch of his breath blow freely into Rauls face as he finishes: Eunice and her Uprisin lacky’s, they can say whatever they want bout how’s we run our Revolution. There ain’t nothin to mediate. There ain’t nuthin further ta talk ‘bout. It’s either ya poo, or ya get off the pot. Ain’t no middle ground on this one. Now, take that message back ta the boss lady. Seeds been done planted. Growin season come and gone. Now… now it’s time to harvest. She gonna get to reapin, or let her crop spoil?

Raul calmly takes the words, fighting hard to not respond in anger to both the words being said and the proximity of Bubba Gump. Three things keep him from losing it - his attempt to follow his dad's example, the nature of the job he's been given, and seeing Buford Bump standing behind Bubba shaking his head side to side, silently asking Raul to not let things escalate.

As Raul calms himself, he replies to Bubba's words:

I'll deliver your words to Mrs. Winslow, but you need to know I am not a messenger. I can't be responsible for what she does in response to your words, either.

If the time does come when felt consequences become more than RIOT is willing to deal with, and you feel you need a go-between, you know where to find me.

Raul reaches into his pants pocket, pulls out a money clip, and puts $20.00 on the counter.

For the drink, and for the lesson. I hope I'm still welcome here, I'd like to come back again some time.

Raul holds out his hand toward Buford, waiting for him to shake it.

Buford wipes the sweat off his hand, then reaches out and takes Raul's hand and shakes it heartily.

Buford: Bufords Bar has always been a place of welcome to all. Glancing at Gump: We's try not to bring political worries in here.

Buford ushers Gump over to the bar and sits him down so he can sit and drink some 'shine. Then turns back to Raul. It's been a right pleasure talkin with ya. Come on back now, ya hear?