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The Last...
..:: Slaves. ::.. ..:: I refuse to be a slave. I refuse to give in. I am the legend. ::.. ..:: This is my story. ::.. …:: Of the Final Battle ::.. We enter a room that smells of defeat. The posters on the wall put me off and I lift my Louis Vuitton shades from my face and hang them from my pocket. There is a guy sitting behind a large mahogany desk and Samantha lets go of my hand to walk towards him. I see a Rubik’s Cube sitting on the coffee table and I’ve immediately found what I will be occupying my time with. Sam’s scent leaves a trail to follow and I grab the scent and make my way over to the white couch sitting by his desk. Dr. Andrews extends his hand to me and I look at it for a bit. He coughs and returns his hand to his side and I can feel Sam staring me down on my left hand side. “Well, I’m glad you two are here. From what Samantha said, Johnny, she wants to rekindle the flame you two had before she got pregnant” He says like I care what he says. I grab the Rubik’s cube and mess with it. “Yeah, I suppose. I don’t see why we’re here. Our marriage is in great condition.” “Well, I can see someone’s in denial” He utters and my eyes dart away from the Rubik’s Cube and looks at him. “Denial? You think I’m in denial? Alright, Dr. Andrews, tell me why I’m in denial and I’ll prove you wrong” I retaliate and Samantha places her hand on my knee. Her sign that she wants me to stop all the bickering. I stare at the doctor and he stares at me with a smile. See, he doesn’t care if I get pissed off. I’m paying him and all he sees from me is a large pile of money. Typical, right? “Samantha, moving on to you, what do you love about your husband?” “Well, he’s so sweet. I know that’s hard to tell right now but I know Johnny would take a bullet for me.” “Many bullets” I add in and the doctor’s lens’ shift over my way. I look back down at the Rubik’s Cube and fiddle with it, almost completing one side. “What else?” “He’s emotionally attached to me. He’s been there for me through everything in my life. The hard times and the impossible times. I don’t know any man with the structure of Johnny.” “And what about you Johnny? What do you love about your wife?” He asks me and my head turns to the left and I see Sam looking back at me. Her large brown eyes captivate me and I turn my lips to form a smile. The doctor’s pen taps in the room and echoes off the acoustics and I turn my attention to him. “She’s a goddess. There isn’t a flaw to her” I say and Sam blushes as I place my hand on her stomach. “I mean, hell, I wouldn’t knock her up if I didn’t love her” She laughs at my joke and I see the doctor smile. “Alright. Here’s a different question for you two. Sam… what do you hate about Johnny?” He says and Sam’s smile turns down and I turn my attention back to the Rubik’s Cube. Do I really want to hear what she has to say? Hmm… almost two sides done. “Well, if we’re being honest, I sometimes hate how demanding he is. He has a short temper with people in general, and sometimes he embarrasses me in public” She says and I put the Rubik’s Cube down on the table and look at Sam. “Well, how does he embarrass you?” “Well, just like a few moments ago. He’ll jump to a conclusion very quickly and get mad and everything. I don’t care too much for it but he’s been like that for 12 years. It’s hard to change that” Her words dance in the air and I feel like I can see them all floating. I never thought she would ever say such things about me. I thought she never saw a flaw… “Well, Johnny, what do you hate about Sam?” The doctor turns the question on me and I start to speak but I see Sam sit up. “I hate how he loves sushi. I don’t know how anyone can eat raw fish. I hate the kind of music he listens to. I hate his massive collection of sunglasses. You know he has over three hundred sunglasses? They all color coordinated. He’s more obsessed with clothing than I am. I hate his language sometimes. I hate…” “Samantha, those are great things to know but I think it’s Johnny’s turn. Wouldn’t you agree?” Sam’s head turns to me and a half smile appears on her face. How can she smile after what she just said? She hates sushi? Sushi is amazing. “Well, I hate how she interrupts me. It irritates me” I say and pick up the Rubik’s Cube and fiddle with it. For the first time in a long time I can’t find a bad thing to say about her. She has all these terrible things to say about me but I can’t find one flaw in her. “Umm… I, uh, hate how she makes the bed?” “How she makes the bed?” “Doc, I’m gonna be honest. I can’t find anything I really hate about her. I seriously can’t. She’s perfect but apparently I’m the one with the problems” I say and as I do I move the cube in the wrong direction, causing everything to mess up, and all the emotion that is built up inside of me comes to my head. “Well, I don’t know what I hate about you babe but I hate this. I hate going to marriage counseling for a stupid reason. I hate the fact that this guy thinks he can get inside of our marriage and fix whatever ‘problem’ there is. I hate his room because it reeks of people who have been divorced here. And, quite frankly, I hate the fact that we’re having children” I say and Sam’s face quickly turns ghost white. “You… what?” She inquires and before I can answer she grabs her purse and looks at me. “I hate… you!” She says and I see tears fall from her face as she storms out of the room. The door slams shut and the doctor leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. “So… I’ll see you next week, then?” He says with a cocky smirk on his face and I smirk right back at him. “No. And I hope you don’t expect to be paid for this session, either” I say and throw the Rubik’s cube into his lap. I take the shades out of my pocket and place them on my face and make my way out of the room. What did I say? Did I just ruin something good? I close the door behind me and see Samantha crying on a bench by the receptionist’s desk. It’s as though an angel is crying from heaven and there’s no way for me to stop it. A moment suspended in time… forever scarred… 
This is the final battle. Matt’s last shot at redemption. His last chance to be called a Champion. Too bad he’s setting himself up for a Elite failer. Flashback. December 2008. Do you remember that night? I only ask, because that was the last time that this very same match took place. That in itself wouldn't be an important fact, without the next one that I'm about to bring into the light. Last time this match took place, Matt completely forgot that he had already faced me and lost. So tell me Matt, before I even get started. Do you remember the beating this time? Of course, you'll come out and call me a moron for making assumptions about your intelligence. But we both know that you'll be secretly thanking me for saving you from making yet another mistake. Tell me, why is it so hard for you to admit your failures? Is it really that much easier to keep in all of the pain and anguish? Or is the enjoyment of crying yourself to sleep, and forcing yourself to look in the mirror the real payoff? You're not emotionally ready for this match. And that’s with out pointing out the injury. Right now you're running on nothing more than adrenaline and red bull. You're running out of gas, and there will be no pit stop in this match. You're high strung and edgy. Deny it all you want, but I know that when you're in the ring, you rely more on impulse and instinct. Lunging in foolishly, rather than baiting and luring your opponent into a mistake. Which works perfectly for me. I'll let your irrationally run in with your arms flailing. Then I'll simply pick a soft spot, and use it to drop you to your knees. Or maybe you're a fairytale believer. Third time's the charm, right? Not in your case. I've seen everything that you've got to bring to the table. I went on to point out every little flaw in your entire arsenal, not once, not twice, not even three times, but four. I've beaten you in singles competition, in a triple-threat match, in a clusterfuck with four other jobbers. So I would really like to know Matt, what makes you think that this time you will walk away with the victory? Because it’s your last shot? Doesn‘t mean shit. What are you doing that makes this match any different then the last three times Matt? Is it because you have a lady friend? Is it because your playing the role of Hero? Is it because of the hope that Bobby Azula maybe ref? To be frank, I don’t care who the ref is. As long as they know how to count to Three, then I’m straight. Bobby Azula would put the odds in your favor, that is if the witness isn’t traumatized from the DoA beatings as of late. And what even makes you believe Azula will be able to make it to are match? You know you have no chance in hell of beating me no matter who the official is. Don't think I'm counting you out of this Matt. I may be arrogant, but I'm not stupid. But all you really are right now is prey. You're the sickling that's fallen behind, and the wolves are closing in. I want to know what's running through your head right now. Knowing that I realize that you're at your weakest, and therefore the easiest to defeat. It could come from anywhere, at anytime. One moment, you'll almost have that false sense of security that you have a chance. Then you'll simply be put out of your misery. Quick, painless, and unmercifully. Don't take it to hard though, wolves gotta eat to. Don't expect this match to end any differently than the last one did Matt. You will have to kill me in order to get this title. I will break the referee's neck before I let him drop a three count in favor of you. I will not be defeated, and I will use whatever means necessary to prevent you from defeating me. You think you're determined. You think you're ready. You think that if you try your hardest, that you actually have a slightly decent chance of winning. And that is the difference between you and myself. I know that not only am I the best wrestler in the industry right now, I am more prepared for this match than you have been in your entire life. I will win. Deny it. Call me a liar. It doesn't make a difference. The end will still be the same. I will win, and leave Enigma with my belt still around my waist. You will go home, and sulk. Hop on the plane home, and pop a couple of Prozac before falling asleep and going to happy-go-fun land. When he finally snaps back into reality, he can cry on Lindsey’s shoulder. Begging for comfort. But will she look at you the same after she discovers you to be a failer? Will Mr. Morose accept his daughter dating a loser? Do you see the pattern here? You sitting yourself up for a even bigger fall then before. Rejection surrounds you this time. You're doomed for it, because it's the life you choose to lead. You have applied for a chance to become the face of this company. I have reviewed your applications, and am ecstatic to inform you that I will personally be the one to boot your ass out the door. -- FIN -- |