"Behind Closed Doors" is a term often used outside the wrestling industry to signify "private time" in which there are to be no interruptions. But in the world of wrestling, there are very few of these moments as the WWA cameras find themselves in Spud McKenzie's makeshift locker early Tuesday evening.

Spud, what the hell are you doing here?

He takes a look around the room, noticing the odd paraphenalia scattered amongst McKenzie's other, more legitimate belongings. Coney gets a very irritated look on his face as he reaches his hand up to rub the back of his neck.

And what the hell is all this crap?

Mackie cuts in, backing Coney up one hundred percent.

Yea, and what the hell is all this crap!?

(Spud) C'mon guys, you know me!

Yea, we know you, and I also know that you're going to bag all this sh*t up and throw it away before something happens. This isn't the IIWF Spud. You can't go around doing this kind of thing. Hell, have you ever heard of Rick Roberts?

...ummm, no?

Well, you will.

Yea, you will.

Mackie crosses his well toned arms, pulling the purple reflective fabric tightly across his shoulders. Coney paces around the room and finds a strange looking device, made entirely of glass. He picks it up, examining it closely. he smells it and pulls his head away almost instinctively. He holds it up in front of Spud's face, like a man rubbing his dog's face in it's own excrement to teach it a lesson.

And what's this!

Yea, what's that?

A...a pipe...

You know, I really don't care what it is!

Coney lifts it's high and brings it crashing onto the linoleum floor, shattering it into hundreds of tiny fragments. Spud stares dumbfoundedly at the smashed object, and then back up at Coney. He alternated glances at the floor, Coney, and Mackie for a short while as the two bigger men in the room cross their arms and only glare back at Spud.

Do yourself a favor and quit your habit.

It's not a habit.

I don't care what it is...

Yea, I don't care what it is...

...just quit.

...yea, just quit.

Spud looks down and off to the side, deep in thought. His chest heaves, and a moment later he picks his head back up and looks Coney and Mackie right in the eye.

Alright, I'll try.

Good.

Yea, good.

Our work here is done then. We'll see you later Spud. Mario Kart later?

Yea, I'll call you.

Coney and Mackie exit the room, Coney slowly shutting it behind him. He stands there for a moment and looks Mackie in the eye. Mackie nods to Coney and the two make off down the hallway, side by side, just like in the streets of New York as kids. Mackie stuff his hands into the pockets of his black cargo pants. Coney rests a hand on the back of his neck, occasionally rubbing and massaging.

How's your neck man? What did you do to it? You've been toying with it all night.

I think it was when they were shoving me into the police cruiser. I pulled a muscle... I'll be alright though. Leise told me just not to be too strenuous until Primetime, that's all. The money I fronted to get Steve and I out of there hurt just a little bit more. It looks like you'll be fronting for beer this weekend.

Alright, I think I can handle that. Assuming, of course, that we will have a reason to celebrate this weekend.

Coney shoots him a glance, almost an affirmation of things to come.

Yea, we'll have a reason. I assure you.

The last time you assured me, we had to return the donkey and the kiddie pool.

But this is different. I swear upon Grady's chair that we'll have a reason to celebrate!

The two coninue down the hallway, leaving the camera behind, leaving only a shot of their backs until they turn a corner. The scene fades out to the next segment. Will The Havoc, in fact, be celebrating this weekend? We'll only have to tune in to WWA Primetime Sunday Night to find out!