The janitor cart rattles violently as Cyclone the Angry Dwarf pops his head out of a bucket labeled “MOP WATER — DO NOT DRINK.”

He is drinking it.

CYCLONE:

“IT BUILDS IMMUNITY!”

GNOME! pops out of the bottom shelf, covered in dust bunnies and holding a wrench twice his size.

He hisses.

Cyclone pats him on the head.

CYCLONE:

“That’s right, buddy. Tomorrow night, we fight the corporate clowns again. Small Business and Micro‑Manager. The tall ones. The loud ones. The ones who smell like printer toner.”

GNOME! growls and bites the wrench.

It bends.

Cyclone nods approvingly.

THE MINI STRATEGY SESSION

Cyclone pulls out a crayon‑drawn battle plan.

It is incomprehensible.

It includes:

- A stick figure labeled “ME”  

- A smaller stick figure labeled “HIM”  

- A giant stick figure labeled “BAD GUY”  

- A drawing of a sandwich  

- A drawing of GNOME! suplexing a fax machine  

Cyclone points at the sandwich.

CYCLONE:

“This is lunch. Don’t eat it before the match.”

GNOME! immediately eats the paper.

Cyclone sighs.

CYCLONE:

“Okay, new plan: chaos.”

GNOME! cheers.

THE TRAINING MONTAGE OF MADNESS

Cyclone and GNOME! begin “training” in the loading dock.

Cyclone headbutts a vending machine until it dispenses free snacks.

GNOME! climbs onto a forklift, pulls the lever, and launches himself into a stack of cardboard boxes.

Cyclone claps.

CYCLONE:

“Perfect form!”

GNOME! emerges from the boxes wearing a traffic cone like a battle helmet.

He charges Cyclone.

Cyclone sidesteps.

GNOME! crashes into a mop bucket and spins like a Beyblade.

Cyclone nods thoughtfully.

CYCLONE:

“That’ll work on Small Business.”

THE MINI MOTIVATION SPEECH

Cyclone stands atop the janitor cart like a general preparing for war.

CYCLONE:

“GNOME!, tomorrow night we step into the ring with two men who think they can control us. Two men who think they can manage us. Two men who think height equals power!”

He flexes.

His bicep is the size of a tennis ball.

CYCLONE:

“But we have something they don’t.”

GNOME! raises his hand.

Cyclone shakes his head.

CYCLONE:

“No, not rabies. Well… maybe. But that’s not what I meant.”

He points dramatically at the arena.

CYCLONE:

“We have HEART! We have SPIRIT! We have UNHINGED, UNPREDICTABLE, UNMEDICATED ENERGY!”

GNOME! screeches triumphantly.

THE FINAL SHENANIGAN

A security guard approaches.

GUARD:

“Hey! You two can’t be in the janitor cart.”

Cyclone crosses his arms.

CYCLONE:

“We’re not IN the cart. We’re OCCUPYING it.”

GNOME! bites the guard’s shoelace.

The guard flees.

Cyclone nods proudly.

CYCLONE:

“Tomorrow, we do that… but to Small Business.”

GNOME! raises the bent wrench like a trophy.

Cyclone slams his fist into his palm.

CYCLONE:

“SLAM is ours. The Minis rule Newark. And corporate America is about to get audited… by PAIN.”

GNOME! hisses in agreement.

The janitor cart rolls away on its own.

Cyclone shrugs.

CYCLONE:

“Eh. Good enough.”