Commissioner's Office Interlude - The Contract

Scene opens on the grand Commissioner’s office, a richly decorated room with polished mahogany furniture, tall windows adorned with heavy curtains, and a desk large enough to make even the most confident feel intimidated. Ebeneezer Scrooge sits perched in the Commissioner’s chair, fingers steepled, his face twisted in frustration. Behind him, Commissioner Bob Cratchit shifts nervously, beads of sweat forming on his brow as he fidgets with his hands.

Scrooge and Cratchit

Scrooge: (slamming a fist on the desk)
“This can’t be right! What is this nonsense, Cratchit?”

Cratchit: (stammering)
“W-well, sir... i-it’s all there in black and white.”

Scrooge: (scowling deeply)
“Bah humbug! Where is that infernal assistant of yours? GIRLS! Get in here!”

The door opens almost immediately, and Ms. Sweetins enters the room, the epitome of grace and professionalism. Her long hair flows loosely down her shoulders, her glasses hanging neatly around her neck as she strides in with calm confidence. The tension in the room doesn’t seem to faze her, though a hint of curiosity flashes in her eyes.

Ms. Sweetins

Ms. Sweetins: (smoothly)

“Yes, gentlemen, what can I assist you with today?”

Scrooge: (gruffly, shoving a paper across the desk toward her)
“Look at this contract. This can’t be right!”

Ms. Sweetins adjusts her glasses, placing them delicately on her nose as she picks up the paper. She reads over it carefully, her brow furrowing slightly before her expression settles into neutral professionalism.

Ms. Sweetins: (calmly, yet with a hint of concern)
“Yes, Commissioner Cratchit, this contract is valid. You see, in December, when Bernard was managing Rudolph during his match against Yeti, he had to apply for a manager’s license. That application was approved, and since the default contract length for managers is two years, it’s active until December 2026.”

(Cratchit begins wringing his hands nervously, his face pale as Ms. Sweetins continues.)

Ms. Sweetins:
“The same applies to his wrestler contract. Before he could wrestle Yeti at the Nightmare at the North Pole event, he was required to file for a valid wrestling license, which also defaults to two years. Bernard was planning to void both contracts after the minimum three months, but unfortunately, he was... well... fired before he could.”

(Scrooge’s eyes narrow dangerously, his annoyance shifting into devious delight. He leans back in the chair, tapping his fingers together as a sinister smile creeps across his face.)

Scrooge: (grinning slyly)
“A wrestler contract as well... how magnificent.”

(Ms. Sweetins freezes, the weight of the situation dawning on her. Her professional demeanor falters for just a moment as she realizes the implications of her words. Trying not to let her concern show, she gives a polite nod.)

Ms. Sweetins:
“Very well, Mr. Scrooge, Commissioner. If there’s nothing else, I’ll return to my work.”

Scrooge: (waving her off dismissively)
“Yes, yes. You may go now.”

Ms. Sweetins exits the room, her steps measured, but her mind racing. She closes the door behind her, leaving the scheming duo to their machinations. Outside the office, she quickly pulls out her cell phone, her fingers trembling slightly as she types a text message.

Text Message:
"We need to meet. I may have accidentally given them info that could cause us some issues. Regular place at regular time."

She presses send and slips the phone back into her pocket, making sure it’s out of sight. Her heart pounds as she walks back to her desk, but she forces herself to maintain her composure. Sitting down, she adjusts her glasses and begins shuffling through paperwork, though her thoughts remain consumed by the potential trouble she’s inadvertently sparked.

Meanwhile, back in the Commissioner’s office, Scrooge is practically gleeful, his smile twisted with malicious intent as Cratchit hovers behind him, unsure whether to feel triumphant or terrified.

Scrooge: (leaning back in the chair, his voice dripping with devious satisfaction)
“Oh, Cratchit, isn’t this delightful? A wrestler contract... and Bernard nowhere to void it. The possibilities are endless!”

Cratchit: (gulping nervously)
“Y-yes, sir. Quite... um... remarkable...”

(Scrooge shoots him a sharp look, and Cratchit immediately straightens, nodding obediently. The two continue to discuss their plans as the camera pans out to show Ms. Sweetins at her desk, her lips pressed together in concern as she tries to focus on her work.)