act ten: the final act

So, Champion... I guess this is it. Another round in the endless struggle between the two of us, another notch on one of our bedposts that will signify another victory earned. For you, it's a chance to cement this notion that you've always been the better of the both of us, but... well, as for me?

I guess I just have better things to focus on these days.

It took a lot of effort, I'll admit, to finally get my priorities in line... a lot more effort and a lot more time than it ever should have. Hell, the fact that I'd even had enough to take you out all those months ago is enough to shock me by now, all things considered... I've been a mess of a person for far too long.

I know this is your final act, Chris... I know you're here to live the rest of your days out exactly the way you'd always wanted to, and I know you're suffering from the same dillusions I'd held for far too long: you think the end is a foregone conclusion, growing so accustomed to this "king of the jungle" act that you've failed to realize the invariables of life that can come out at any time and grab you by the nuts.

And when something grabs you by the nuts, Chris... you know it's got complete control over your stupid ass because of it.

The last time you'd lost to me, you went about a mental mindfuck the likes of which I'd never seen you have to endure. You pulled out of it soon enough, bragging about... well, of all things you started bragging that you'd beaten that Donovon kid or whoever the hell he was. Anyway, the point remains... you were finding comfort in the little things, building yourself back up to a point where you could declare yourself a Golden God of Wrestling again.

And hell, when you beat the lot of us in that Chaotic Cage... you even were able to claim to be on the top of the NLCW mountain by that point. After-all, you'd taken out every challenger, every man that stood between you and my title... but what happened the day after, Chris?

You and I got signed for this match right here, the one we're about to step into and, once again, take each other on over the NLCW's prized title. Now, correct me if I'm wrong here, man, but... didn't you say I was going to do nothing more than run off into the shadows and weep about how much better you are than me?

And hell, I'll admit it too: you are better than me sometimes Chris. You've kicked my ass more times than I'd care to remember, but... likewise, I've always been the same to you. Our records are more closely matched than you'd like the public to think, you just happen to be high on the more recent victories you've held over me.

Of course, when I say recent... they're still several years old now, aren't they?

Let's face it, as far as the you and I of today go... we're tied at one a piece. I beat you on the first go-round, and you made your return volley... now it's down to round three and you're still blowing your load over your victories way back in our past.

When it comes to the world of professional wrestling for us, Chris... you and I have always been held on higher ground, haven't we? We've both made our own unique names for ourselves... you the overbearing asshole who everyone loves because he can back all his talk up, and I the annoyingly goody-goody of a choir boy with a dream he's held firm to all his life. In a way, it's kind-of sad that I can trunicate the both of us down to such finely worded footnotes, but... it's the truth, isn't it?

We're not really all that special compared to everyone else as people, it's just... when it comes to what we do in the ring, the both of us are unrivaled, aren't we?

Yet that's always been one huge thing about you and I, one big difference that sets us apart. When the wrestling world thinks of Dominic Pericolo, they think of the man who simply forgot one day how to stay down when he's been beaten. The man who you can always count on to bounce back and keep fighting, no matter how many times he might lose in the process. It never was about the records for me, Chris, it... well, you know, it was just about the fight.

For you, though... it was different. You take a loss and you have a breakdown. You take too many victories and you grow bored of it all and quit. You were never consistant enough for the fans to really hold onto... they chant your name and they love what you do, but in the end... you never really could satisfy those people quite the way I can, can you Chris?

And really, the harsh truth of it all is that you could never really satisfy anyone quite the way you'd like to, either, be it the fans or Georgina... you were always expecting more from yourself than you were ever possibly capable of. Oh, you could go against me just fine-- if there's one thing in this world that you know how to satisfy, it's a fight-- but beyond that? You've always been a step behind.

And that's what separates us, Chris. It's not about the honor or lack thereof, nor is it about the wins and the losses, or my knowledge of the rules of war, or any of the bullshit you've tried to put forward as a tangible reason. No, Chris... the thing that separates us is that I've always been consistant, and you've always been nothing more than a flash in the pan.

And your spark's all but just about faded, Champ... whether you like it or not, with me around you won't stay king shit forever.

It's not that I'm out for the glory, either... being king isn't as important to me as you might think. I just want a good fight, Chris... and I know that in a position like the one you're in now, all the best fights are brought straight before your throne.

And I want that fucking throne back. I want to have that opportunity again, and trust me, Chris... I will get what I want eventually. Even if every invariable that might keep me from doing so comes across my path, even if the NLCW itself crumbles before this match even happens... I will find myself an opportunity, and I'm going to take it.

You and I fight for different reasons, Chris... but the fact of the matter is that we fight, and that's all we've ever been meant to do around here. You can lord your abilities on a mic over me all you want, but in the end... the only thing that counts is how we perform out there in the ring.

It just so happens that I'm just that little bit better at all that than you ever were.

See you in the ring, Chris... I'm looking forward to it.