The scene opens to a view of the busy interior of Edinburgh International Airport. The camera pans round the crowded terminal until Logan Neilson comes into shot, having recently alighted from a Transatlantic flight. He is dressed in comfortable clothes as preparation for the 10 hour flight, wearing loose fitting designer jeans and navy blue hood-top, his eyes hidden by Aviator Ray Bans and headphones can be seen round his neck. He heads quickly to the luggage carousel where he wait’s a few a moments before picking up a medium sized suitcase, using his other hand he whips his hood over his head, hiding his familiar golden hair from view. Logan, hoping not to be bothered by anyone, makes his way towards the exit, but he is blocked off by the H-W-A camera crew and reporter. Before they can direct a question towards him, Logan turns sharply to look at them, pulling off his hood and barks at them.

(Logan): Dae you ####s just hang about airports all day?!

The reporter shrinks back and goes to open his mouth but reconsiders. Logan continues to stare at him, an eye brow raising above his shades, as if expecting a question.

(Logan): ’Mon then, spit it out!

Finally the reporter half chokes out some words.

(Reporter): Sorry Mr Neilson to bother you… But we were wondering if we could have a few words.

Logan whips off his shades and stares right into the mans soul.

(Logan): Aye, dae ye have a pen?

The reporter shrugs, looking confused, hands Logan a pen from his pocket. Logan picks up a leaflet from a shelf beside him and starts to scribble something down as he talks in a low voice.

(Logan): Next time, call me or email me or some shite and arrange an interview, dinnae jump me when am jet-lagged tae f*ck.

He looks up and smiles sweetly.

(Logan): It pisses me right off!

(Reporter): Sorry Logan, err Mr Neilson.

Logan ends his note and hands it to a member of the camera crew.

(Logan): Now go tae this location at 7pm tonight…. And await my instructions.

He puts the reporters pen in his own jean pocket, replaces his shades and walks out the airport main door and straight into a taxi, the crew member hands the note to the reporter who holds up a tourist map of Edinburgh with a tiny ‘X’ marked on a street corner and the words “Butch Parker is a Twat…… show this to the camera, it‘ll be funny as fuuuuuuuck!”

The scene fades out for a moment and when it comes back into view it is early evening. The camera crew and reporter have just clamoured out of a taxi and are now standing outside of a rough looking pub called ‘The Tynecastle Arms’. They brace themselves before walking in…

The bar is untidy yet welcoming, and only a handful of patrons stand at the bar, a Tuesday night clearly not the busiest of the week. The camera crew settle down in a corner and the reporter walks to the bar, where a lanky man with blue eyes and shaved hair stands.

(Kenny Neilson): Can I help ye pal?

(Reporter): Err.. Yes, you couldn’t tell me if a man named Logan has been in here. It’s just we were hoping to get an interview with him.

The man smirks and folds his arms.

(Kenny): Aye ma brai’er?

(Reporter): Excuse me?

The man turns and goes through the back behind the bar and shouts up some stairs.

(Kenny): Haw! Logan! Some Yank bastards doon ‘ere wantin’ tae speak tae ye.

The reporter, taken aback by the bluntness off the Scottish barman, goes to protest but is cuts off when he hears footsteps coming down the stairs and seconds later Logan Neilson appears, dressed in Adidas tracksuit bottoms and a maroon “ABH: Anyone but Hibs” T shirt on. His hair still damp from his shower.
He gives the reporter a welcoming smile, signalling he’ll be with him in 2 seconds. He then gives his older brother a dig on the arm as he pulls a pint of Best for an old bearded man, Logan himself, pours a large pitcher of Tennents Lager, grabs some glasses and walks over to the table where the H-W-A crew are waiting.

(Logan): Hi lads, sorry about that. Help yersel’s tae a beer of Scotland’s finest.

A voice comes from behind the bar.

(Kenny): Ye better pay fur that ya diddy!

Logan booms back.

(Logan): F*ck off, ya baldy twat!

A flurry of obscenities fire back but are ignored by everyone at the table.

(Logan): Right, apologies about earlier but now ye have me for an hour so fire away with any questions.

The reporter takes a sip of beer and screws up his face.

(Logan): Aye man, it’ piss water, sorry.

(Reporter): That’s alright. Well if you don’t mind we’ll get started. I think the question on everyone’s lips is why did you choose Butch Parker as special guest referee for your match with Ronnie?

(Logan): Well, I know it might seem like a stupid idea, but I want it tae be a fair match, and as much as Butch hates me and vice versa, he also hates Ronnie and vice versa. So he seemed the best choice. He’d have nothing tae gain by helping either one of us win this match.

(Reporter): I understand that, but why not pick someone who has mutual respect for both you and Ronnie? For example Talon Wilkinson?

Logan ponders that idea for a moment before shrugging it off.

(Logan): ‘Cause where’s the drama in that?! My match wi Ronnie at Havoc is gonnae be truly epic, that I promise! And wi Parky as the ref, it’s just gonnae spice things up nicely.

(Reporter): Fair enough, moving on to Ronnie. Having lost to him once before and as Butch correctly points out, you’ve not won a match in sometime, do you truly feel you can win this match?

(Logan): Yes, or I wouldn’t have accepted the challenge. Dinnae get me wrong, it won’t be easy, but if I’m at ma best and I can deliver in that ring I know I have a chance. But if I lose this match it won’t be the end of the world for me. As long as I put up a good fight, force myself into the All Star division as a worthy challenger then I’ll be happy.

He takes a sip of beer.

(Logan): And regards tae what Butch said, he’s right… I’ve lost some silly matches recently that I should have won. I’ll be honest and say my confidence took a knock when losing the Spotlight Title and ma head hasnae been right. But come Havoc, I’ll prove am back tae ma most unpredictable best.

(Reporter): Sounds good. Now to change the subject from Ronnie, what do you make of discussions between Senester and Butch Parker about the possibility of “making an example” of you?

Logan lets out a small laugh.

(Logan): Let them try. Tae be honest am sure the gruesome two-some have “bigger” fish tae fry. I just hope their wee tiff wi Ronnie doesn’t ruin our match.

(Reporter): Okay, and if we can move onto other pieces of news, do you have any opinions on Senester versus Eddie, and your good friend Hans’ girlfriend Vanessa refereeing, or her apparent resignation?

(Logan): Aye, I’ve got an opinion on everything! The match wi itself is pointless. Eddies just trying tae be the good guy again and by calling out Senester, who he knows doesnae want his title, he’s hoping tae get all the fans on his side again. A smart move I guess, but doesn’t detract from the fact that he’s the least deserving champion in H-W-A history…and he’s a sphincter tickler.

The reporter splutters into his beer after the last comment.

(Logan): The whole thing about Vanessa is unfortunate, but Hans and her have tae be realistic, if Senester wants it tae happen, it will happen. Bottling out and resigning won’t stop him. He’s a crazy bastard but a manipulative genius at the same time. Ma advice would be just call the match as fair as possible, keep out the way. If Senester’s playing dirty, dinnae attempt tae stop him, warn him, if he keeps it up, disqualify him. As soon as yer afraid of him, he wins. As soon as he get’s ye angry, he wins.

Logan downs the remains of his pint.

(Logan): I know am goin’ on like am some sort of expert on it, and I know am not. But ye asked my opinion so that’s what ye get.

The reporter checks his watch and notices the bar getting a bit busier.

(Reporter): Okay Logan just to wrap things up, could we ask why you have chosen this week to come home to Scotland, with such an important match coming up?

Logan rolls his eyes.

(Logan): Aye… Football season starts, Hearts Vs St. Johnstone on Saturday. Plus Ally’s meeting up wi Talon, now that he’s back on the planet she’s wants to update him on ….stuff… like… ye know?…….

He gestures awkwardly towards the reporter for help, but is met with a blank stare.

(Logan): … F*ck knows…. Shit about… us …and stuff… like ma dick size.

With that bombshell he winks, collects the empty glasses and walks off as the scene fades to black.