"Tf we supposed to do when it ain't no hoops on?"

Cyril then lowers the remote. Next to him, Lamarr chimes in a response:

“‘Well. How bout you spend more time with Ya Damn Kids!’”

“Hahaha. For real.”

“‘And stay off That Damn Phone!’”

“Yo, that’s actually what ESPN needs fr. A permanent segment of Stephen A. just saying that shit straight to camera.”

“They need to put it on the ticker at the bottom, too. Just going across the screen, shaming niggas into accepting family life.”

“Hahaha, right.”

“That shit would work, though. You know why, right?”

“Why?”

“Because it would be below a bunch of baseball highlights. Niggas would have no choice but to watch the bottom of the screen.”

“Lmao for real. That’s actually how I always knew it was really summertime fr. ESPN would be on all night, but it would be non-stop RBIs and shit. The Top 10 would be all double plays.”

“Facts, bro.”

“Double plays are actually crazy as shit when you think about it.” says Cyril, still holding the remote. With it in hand, he mimics the arm elasticity of throwing a baseball.

“Yeah, they be flying through the air throwing the hell outta that shit.”

A long pause.

And then two deep sighs fill the room.

“Fuck we gonna watch though?”

“Idk… Lemme see that real quick.”

Cyril hands the remote over to Lamarr, who pulls up the main menu. Different rectangles—applications filled with content—cover the screen in endless rows & columns. Lamarr clicks through a “New Arrivals” rectangle, revealing more rectangles. He scrolls, reading descriptions aloud.

“A competition… between two… royal families. Princes and Princesses from different countries… square off and… “duke” it out… in a series of gladiator-style... What?? Can they even do this shit legally?”

“The hell? Look at the thumbnail.”

IN CLOSE on THE THUMBNAIL: it’s a cover poster designed around a 2 vs. 2 face off, one boy and one girl each, emerging from the edges of the frame with fists balled. One side is heavily dressed in red and the other is a distinct blue. In the negative space, semi-transparent faces of 4 older people loom behind, all with a scowling look. Presumably these are the parents, or rather: the kings and queens.

The title, centered in the thumbnail:

ROYAL RUMBLE

Moving in closer, the individual letters in the title bounce up and down in succession.

“Look at this nigga face, bro. He don’t even wanna be there.”
“Hahaha, his dad probably put him up to that shit.”

Now moving in close to the faces: The boy in question, wearing blue, rolls his eyes, sighing deeply. But he keeps his fists balled. And we see the faces of the older folks behind him begin to animate, to the point where they are speaking to each other inside the thumbnail:

“I’ll have you know, your daughter is talented at Staff Combat but she does not compare to mine at the Rope Climb,” says the matriarch of the Blue Side.

The matriarch of the Red Side snaps back:

“Well, I don’t see how you could make that assessment. Your daughter cheated her way to the top last time. Only another Rope Climb will tell us who is really better.”

“How dare you! Erik, we must settle this.”

The Blue King affirms his wife:

“I agree, my love. One rope climb to decide who is the best. Let us commence!”

We burst down through some clouds and open to a scene of a clearing in the woods, surrounded on all sides by a thick blanket of forestation. In the middle of a grass clearing sits a wooden stage with a large wooden arc structure, vaulting 40+ feet into the air. One half of it is painted red, the other is blue. Two ropes hang down. A bell sits at the top.

The two families are circled around the base of the stage talking shit to each other while the two young girls stretch and prepare. King Blue turns to face King Red:

“Garrison. Now that we’re here, I expect the same level of candor towards us from you and your queen. You asked for this!”

The Red patriarch steps toward the Blue and stiffens his gaze.

“Oh, no doubt, sir Erik. I will keep this level of candor. It is not an act, it is within me.”

An audible cackle comes from beyond the trees. It’s Lamarr, sitting next to Cyril in a crowd:

“HAHA. Oh shit, this n*gga doubling down. Talk your shit, bro”
“Yeah, I got my money on him fr.” adds Cyril.

Cyril and Lamarr are in a crowd of spectators—one side RED and one side BLUE—sitting under a medieval-themed tent. Wearing neutral sweatpants and hoodies, they stick out amongst the crowd.

A horn sounds.

The tension in the crowd tightens. A short man in a velvet hat holding a scroll steps out onto the stage and—using a thundering voice—reads the rules:

“Since this is part of the rematch clause invoked by King Erik, the rules here are streamlined! The clock is off, only one round. Physical contact is accepted. First to ring the bell wins!”

“Did he say physical contact?” says Lamarr.
”Sounds like it.”

“Shhhh!!”

Back on the couch in the living room, the two friends are rapt with attention in front of the television. Lamarr turns to Cyril:

“You heard that?”
“Heard what?”
“Somebody shushing.”
“Idk. Naw.”

The horn sounds again, and the two young girls walk to their respective ropes, preparing to climb.

“Places, combatants!”

Mathenia, daughter of the Red Side cracks her neck side to side, then takes one long scowl at Eden, her Blue opponent. Eden does not return this gaze.

“Your highness-es, on my count of three,” says the scroll man festively, while a trio of horn players saddle in and position themselves on the side of the stage:

“One”

“BRRR!”, goes the first horn player.

“Two”

“BRRR!”, the second one.

“Three”

“BRRR!”, the third.

“GO!!!”

And then all three in unison:

“BRRRRRRRRRR!”

Off that horn, Mathenia launches sideways and plunges her shoulder into Eden’s chest, knocking her off her feet and straight onto her back.

Lamarr is stunned:

“Oh Shit!!”

And so is Cyril:

“Yo!”

The red crowd around them cheers with aggression.

While Eden struggles to get up, Mathenia grabs onto the end of Eden’s rope and THROWS it high in the air, hoping to hook it on the flat part of the bar it’s hanging from.

She misses on the first attempt.

On the second attempt, she snags it on the top. Red crowd cheers even louder, as Eden’s rope is now impossible to reach.

Mathenia smirks, then looks down to where Eden was, but she’s gone. Eden has already started climbing up the rope designated for Mathenia. Blue crowd rejoices in rebuttal.

“Bro. How did she get up that fast?”, says Cyril.
“Idk yo! This shit crazy.”

Mathenia starts vigorously kicking the tall wood structure over and over, loosening the snagged rope end. It falls down. The blue crowd cheers on Eden, already a quarter way up the rope.

Mathenia begins climbing with haste. She gains on Eden, but her herky-jerk momentum causes the rope to begin swinging back and forth, slowing her down. Rope climbing at this level is a matter of true upper body strength. Eden is streamlined: one hand over the other, making strict movements while the rope stays vertical.

“Bro, I did not know what to expect. But this show is nuts. Look at her technique.” says Cyril.

Eden is halfway up the rope. Mathenia’s rope-swinging technique is even more violent now. Back and forth she goes.

“Yeah, she knows what she doing compared to the other girl.” Lamarr declares.

IN CLOSE on Eden, as she is high enough on the rope to see the tent of spectators, and her eyes wander to the blue side desperately cheering her on. But then she sees two anomalies in the middle of the crowd, dressed in neither blue or red, and pauses with a look of perplexion…

Until BOOM!

Eden’s rope shakes violently, almost causing her to slip.

She looks down, and Mathenia has LEAPED from her rope and jumped on to Eden’s. Mathenia moves quickly up the rope, grasping for Eden’s legs.

The Blue crowd gasps. The Red crowd cheers.

“Did you see that shit, bro?” says Lamarr, turning to Cyril.
“Yo!! I know, bro. She strong as shit for that. How tf did she do that?”
“No, no. I’m talking about how she like looked directly into the camera. It felt like the whole thing stopped for a minute.”
“I feel like it was just a dramatic pause. That’s how these shows be.”
“What you mean? This doesn’t feel scripted.”

Mathenia is moving quickly up the rope—a less volatile rope than before—and it is throwing off Eden’s rhythm. Eden makes a strong lunge upward but can’t go further: Mathenia has her foot. Eden tries to wriggle away, but Mathenia’s stronger than she looks.

Off one strong kick, Eden dislodges Mathenia’s hand, but she also loses her grip and slides several feet down the rope, knocking right into her adversary. They both slide down together in a cluster of limbs, palms blistering, clinging to the rope for dear life.

“OHHH!!!”, go Lamarr and Cyril in unison.

Both crowds gasp at this. Eden’s advantage has diminished. The two princesses claw and scrap at each other, vying for position to get ahead on the rope and it is a sight to behold. This is Mathenia’s kind of fight.

“Nah, this is crazy. I’m team Red girl now. She on some shit.” says Cyril.
“Yo, me too.”

Now we’re in close on a member of the crowd, wearing blue. He nods his head in reaction to Mathenia’s tenacity, then mouths something directly to the camera:

“I might have to switch, too. If she keeps climbing like this, we’re cooked.”

Cyril and Lamarr turn to look at each other, perplexed.

“???”, they say to each other with their eyes.
“See I told you!!”

It’s now a mad dash to the top. Mathenia and Eden exchange hands, one over the other on the rope desperately looking to gain an advantage while their legs battle below. There’s only a quarter left of the rope to go.

“Wait. They can hear us?” Cyril asks, finally catching on.

“Barely. It’s louder in here than usual. Where are you two from?” the man in blue says. He feels closer now, like they’re having a face-to-face conversation.

“What the fuck?”, says Lamarr, turning his head to look around him.

Eden, vying for arm space, ELBOWS Mathenia right on the button of her nose, stunning her and causing her to drop several feet. Mathenia is pissed.

Eden breaks away, and the entire Blue side of the crowd STANDS UP in anticipation for a win.

Cyril and Lamarr’s view is obscured now. Screams surround them on all sides, and the roar of a dedicated fanbase envelops them. In order to see the rest of the rope climb, they have to stand up for the first time, and on that movement they realize: they’re no longer on the couch, they’re in the scene.

A blue supporter bumps into Cyril’s shoulder, and he scowls back; still adjusting. Lamarr feels on his chest, making sure he’s there.

Mathenia climbs with pace and strength now, hoping to catch up. She’s moving FAST as she ever has. She makes her way back up to Eden’s level and starts clawing at Eden’s feet until—

Eden JUMPS across to the other rope, catching it cleanly and holding on tight. She’s back to her original rope.

Blue Crowd loses it. Cyril and Lamarr—caught up in the fray, absorbed by the spectacle—lose it, too. A few red crowd members cheer from a place of justice.

There’s only 10 feet left, and Eden starts her ascent towards the bell. But: Mathenia noticing the crowd has swung, grunts and lets out a noxious scream—a thick, primal roar—and flings her body across to Eden’s rope, landing on top of Eden’s back, almost ending both of them. Like a madwoman, she starts pulling at Eden’s hands, trying to loosen her grip.

The entire crowd gasps, as they are 35 feet high and this could result in the both of them plummeting to the ground. Eden’s fingers are trembling under the weight of holding the both of them up until—

Eden, falling inevitably, LETS GO of the rope—

suspends in mid air and sends her arms back, ELBOWING Mathenia square in the stomach, causing her to fly off and plummet to the ground below.

Eden, as she falls, turns, REACHES and a grabs back onto the other rope, stopping herself right at the midpoint.

And as Mathenia falls, a group of 4 young boys in uniform SPRINT out onto the stage holding the corners of a safety cushion. They catch Mathenia before she hits the ground, avoiding any serious injury.

The blue crowd cannot contain itself.

Eden, all alone, climbs slowly and steadily to the top, and rings the bell. She pumps her fist in the air and points towards her family below.

Lamarr and Cyril are at a loss for words. They high five other members of the blue faction, as they all celebrate the win and jeer towards the red side.

The short man with the velvet hat is back, at the foot of the stage.

“What a match! My word! Ladies and Gentleman, give a round of applause for your combatants. This time it’s Eden, of Blue, protecting her crown. She defends her honor… by virtue of the rematch clause.”

Both sides of the crowd give a long standing ovation.

As the families file out, supporting their exhausted daughters, they wave to the spectators.

Cyril, still standing, is beside himself:

“Bro, I don’t what the fuck is going on. But that was some crazy shit.”

Lamarr confirms it:

“Dawg! Right! I need to tap in with Royal Rumble more often. This shit make you feel something.”

They both sit back down for the first time, hoping to be more relaxed, but the confusion persists: They begin to work out the math of their peculiar situation.

Something ain’t right.

Sitting back down didn’t quite return them to the couch like they hoped it would. Looking around, all the spectators are still there: a foreign, sweaty, thrill-seeking mass around them on all sides.

The scroll man clears his throat to make another announcement:

“And now, ladies and gentlemen: we have a tradition after matches like the one you just saw. We’re opening up the Rope Climb to two contestants from the crowd: with a cash prize for the winner…”

Everyone in red and blue turns their gaze to the anomalies.

“… Are there any newcomers in the crowd?”