It was dark and cramped. All there was in the small room was a desk, Golden Ben Miller, FBI Agent Leonard, and a single lightbulb dangling above them.

As the beads of sweat rolled down Ben’s forehead and temples, the federal agent continued to press his line of questioning.

“Alright, let’s try this one more time from the beginning. Exactly when did you know that the Draconian was from another world? When did you know that he wasn’t human?”

The Golden Warhorse looked down and shook his head.

“I want my lawyer, Leonard,” Ben countered. “I’ve been asking for them for the past 6 hours since you brought me in here!”

Agent Leonard slammed his hands down onto the desk in either frustration or an attempt to intimidate, Ben wasn’t sure.

“You’re screwed, Miller! I’ve got you on tape communicating with the leader of their species! You obviously know what’s going on!”

Ben tilted his head back in exasperation before responding.

“You have it on tape because it was an episode of Gold Strike! Everyone in Tennessee was watching!”

The federal gumshoe stood up from the desk and pushed the chair back and began pacing back and forth. He pulled a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket, and proceeded to light one.

After taking a slow, methodical drag of the cigarette, he extended another to Ben.

“Listen, Ben. I’m your friend in all of this. Would you like a cigarette? Maybe we can find some common ground? Maybe we can work something out to make sure you don’t get caught up in the consequences?”

“What consequences? What’s been done that’s so wrong? This is all sports entertainment; nobody has gotten hurt, the world is still in one piece, and we’re managing Draconium as best we can.”

“Aha!” Agent Leonard yelled back. “You are in on it!”

Then a loud series of bangs came from the door to the interrogation room, which took Agent Leonard and Golden Ben Miller’s attention. The door creaked open, and another FBI agent poked his head in.

“I did my best, Leonard, but the suspect’s lawyer is here and is demanding to see him.”

The agent is suddenly pushed aside, and Golden Pro Wrestling Commissioner Parker Meloche forced his way into the room followed by GPW legal counsel Malcolm Marshall.

“What he hell is this, Leonard? Holding my employee without cause and without legal representation!?”

Agent Leonard smiled back at Parker and took another drag of his cigarette, which the exhale contributed to the layer of smoke that had settled above everyone’s heads.

“Oh, I don’t recall him ever asking for a lawyer. Anyways, I’m done with him for now,” Agent Leonard acknowledged. “Miller, you’re free to go… for now.”

Golden Ben Miller pushed himself backward from the desk and stood up. Parker and Malcom Marshall put their arms around Ben and ushered him out of the room.