On a moonlit night, Rouge the Bat sits upon a rooftop, her legs dangling over the edge as she watches the solitary figure approach the random old house again. Almost like clockwork, the Princess of the Republic of Acorn returns to the building. After a quick knock on the door and an hour or so, she emerges, stumbling, bloody, bruised, but fulfilled.
The bat types some more notes into her datapad when a call comes in for her.
“You’ve got Rouge the Bat,” she says, and while she listens, a smirk grows along her glossed lips. “Oh, so you’ve decided to accept my offer? Oh, she’s interested too? Well, this really is interesting. Meet me Friday night. I’m looking forward to seeing the shy girl show her real self.”
With that, she flies off into the moonlight sky, a bright smile spreading as she heads off.
—
Friday night is a bustling night for Club Rouge, as many Mobotropolis folk find themselves unwinding to songs, shows, and drinks after long work days. 
Rouge sits at the bar, clad in a sparkling red dress studded with the most spectacular jewels. She practically shines with all the rocks, bangles, rings, and chains she wears, making her presence known to all who find themselves in the establishment.
And one of the people meant to find her arrives, dressed in a sharp red suit with her hands firmly upon her hips. The hedgehog smirks as she slips onto the seat next to the bat, raising her hand to the rabbit behind the bar. “I heard you attempted to do something big, Miss reformed jewel thief.”
“Breezie,” Rouge says, shifting to face her guest. “It’s good to see you, Miss former Robotnik conspirator.”
“Please,” Breezie says, waving her off. “I’m glad that fat bastard is dead. Buying up most of his corporations was a breeze without his threat of technocratic dictatorship constantly hovering over the planet. Besides, we aren’t here to compare past mistakes.”
“No, we’re not,” Rouge says, standing up, motioning Breezie to the back.
The hedgehog grabs her drink and follows the bat, leaving behind the prying eyes and snapping images of phones as the two find themselves alone in the back of the establishment.
“I thank you for joining me in that little show,” Rouge says,pulling out her datapad. The wall opens, revealing a gray metallic corridor. Behind the hall was a personal train system with a cart built for four.
“It had better be worth it,” Breezie says, approaching the vehicle, only to stop when she sees the figure already seated in one of the seats. “And just what is he doing here?”
Rouge steps up and sits next to the shadowed individual. “Oh, don’t you worry about our friend here. He’s just a potential investor, just like you.”
The green Opossum smiles wide, a golden tooth glinting as he perks his hat up with the head of his cane. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Breezie. I’m a fan of how you’ve locked intellectual property down under your mega-corporation.”
“Really?” She asks, sliding down and sitting in the seat next to Rouge. “I wouldn’t suspect a criminal chao trafficker and weapon dealer to care about movies.”
“With no war anymore, people need to turn their aggression elsewhere. I make good money selling the real versions of weapons you glorify in your action movies. And people need to have the edge in Chao races if they compete. Where do you think most of the top breeders get their stock?”
The train starts down the dark corridor, with Rouge crossing one leg over the other, her hands folded in her lap. “Now, now, you two, let’s play nice. There’s so much I have to show you, after all.”
Clutch points towards the wall as they speed through the tunnel. “This is an old Robotnik Tunnel. How’d you get it past Republic security?”
Rouge chuckles just a bit and says. “There are many secrets to my trade I can’t let you be privy to, but let’s just say I’m connected, and I hope to add at least one of you to my list of business partners.”
“So, what sort of entertainment are you envisioning here?” Breezie asks.
The vehicle slows down, and Rouge steps out, ushering her guests forward. As they pass through doors marked “VIP,” they are greeted with bright lights, a large arena, and a cheering crowd.
And in center stage, standing facing each other in a fighting ring and decked out in boxing gloves and gear, are Amy “Rosy the Rascal” Rose and Tangle the Lemur.
“Both of you have been onto something as of late,” Rouge says, turning towards her guests. She spreads her arms wide and says, “We’ve grown up in an age drenched in violence. We’ve all known struggle and now find ourselves in a world devoid of it, needing to find outlets in fantasy. But I ask you this: What if we merge fantasy and reality, providing people with what they want to see by letting others vent out what they need?”
Both guests look at each other, greedy grins spreading across their faces. “Okay,” says Breezie, “I’m willing to bite, but you must tell me how you got this whole thing set up.”
Rouge bows. “Gladly, but first, let’s sit back and watch the show!”