Lesnar takes a deep breath. He’s lying in the center of his bed, a bed that is about three times Lesnar’s size. Moments before, two lizard people entered Lesnar’s room. They weren’t threatening, they even shapeshifted into the forms of pleasant looking people most of the time they were face to face with Brock. They entered Lesnar’s domain and they escorted out a clone that looked identical to Jennifer Aniston. She needed help because she was physically incapable of leaving the room herself.

Despite the heavy tension between Brock and Nixon, the XWF tag team tournament rarely entered Brock’s thoughts. He spent most of the day eating, drinking, or having sex with various celebrity clones. It was a good life, and Brock Lesnar was content. He even pushed some more disturbing thoughts out of his mind. For example, he briefly contemplated what they did with the Emma Watson clone. If Brock ever wanted to take a clone of Emma Watson into the bedroom again, the lizard people could probably clone a new one. That would probably be easier than if the lizards kept the original clone alive on the off chance that Brock would want another go. Does that mean the lizards put them down the minute Brock is done with them? But why would he really care, he’s living the dream.

The biggest burden of Brock’s residency rested on many of the lizards that worked with their advanced technology. They went from brainstorming ideas and experimenting with chemical interactions to essentially serving at the whim of one of their clones. One day a scientist, the next day they are driving to Jimmy Johns to pick up four sandwiches for Brock. One of the lizards was upset, he yelled. “Why are we acting like college interns? We literally invented an injection that can make people . That’s groundbreaking! That’s science!” But, alas, nothing changed. Like always, lizards were serving man.

Lesnar was oblivious to the irony that he was a tool for lizard’s rights, yet he had the lizard people ready to serve his desires. Instead, Lesnar fell into a train of thought.

The carnal pleasures of his secure life in the lizard lair were beyond amazing. Any whim, any need, any desire. He could literally do whatever he wanted to anybody in the whole world. That’s eye opening. But there’s no danger, there is no risk. The outcome is always the same, Brock gets exactly what he wants. The only moments that open up for error are when Brock is let out into the real world. When Brock is standing in the arena of an XWF event where people are willing to challenge him.

That’s a thrilling feeling. Brock doesn’t just get what he wants handed to him; he grabs what he wants by the throat and snatches it. That’s the pleasure and euphoria that comes along with carnage.

Brock never attacked Cain because he didn’t like him. That’s a stupid misconception. He didn’t attack Cain because he was told to or ordered to. That’s another falsehood. Brock beat the shit out of Cain because Brock wanted the thrill of beating up someone with free will. He wanted to make someone his bitch whether they like it or not. And that’s why Brock has gone back for seconds, when Cain pushes back against Brock, it makes him want to put him away even more.

The night before (or day, Lesnar didn’t have the best perception of time in the lair), Brock was shown the promos from Chris Chaos and Jenny Myst. The lizard people told them that they wanted him to watch the videos, he didn’t need to respond, and he didn’t even need to pay attention. They just wanted to expose him to his opponents before he meets them in the ring.

A smirk crawled onto Brock’s face. Chris Chaos was the kind of guy that doesn’t surrender easy, and that’s the thrill that Lesnar needs after several days of being treated as a king. He wanted someone to resist and try to fight back, and that will remind Lesnar that even if they didn’t want to serve his will, they would have too. It’s the feeling of dominance and power.

Chris Chaos will bite back. He thinks he is hot shit, you can tell by the way he carries himself and the way he talks about his opponents. Brock hardly notices the weak insults slung by the former Universal Champion. He was struck by the image of dropping Chaos on his neck and head and watching him try to get back up.

Better yet, Lesnar imagined dropping Chaos’ little girlfriend on her neck and head and then looking over to Chaos for his reaction. He could imagine it now…

The deafening roar of a “suplex city” chant fills the arena. Jenny Myst looks exasperated, as she crawls towards Chris Chaos, who has his hand outstretch looking for a tag. But Lesnar is standing up just behind her wearing a huge grin. With their hands just inches apart, Brock grabs her feet and pulls her to the center of the ring, as she yells for Chaos.

Lesnar hunches over, locking his hands around Jenny Myst’s waist. And he lifts her in the air and drives her over head onto her neck!

“ONE!” The crowd roars, as she writhes in pain on the canvas. Even Nixon looks sympathetic towards the little girl, even if she is a bitch. She grabs the bottom rope, trying to recall her positioning around the ring.

But Lesnar is wrapped around her again! And he tosses her small frame through the air, landing in a heap more than halfway across the ring!

“TWO!” The crowd booms!

Now, the girl looks at Chaos with a tear in her eye. Chaos tries to get in the ring, but the referee stops him. Lesnar has her up on his shoulders, and plants her with an F-5!

All the while, Lesnar laughs showing absolutely no remorse. This is the dream. This is what he lives for. This is the carnage that he desires. He’s striking fear into the hearts of all of the people watching his cruel, brutal actions, and he loves it. He revels in it.

That’s why Lesnar doesn’t care about the shitty jokes made at his expense. He doesn’t mind that Chaos randomly labeled him an inbred. He doesn’t care that Myst made fun of his looks, and he didn’t give half a shit when the Motherfuckers said he was a disgrace to America.

It’s not about the quips you make, it’s about what you do in that ring. And on Savage, Brock doesn’t want the match to go long, but he wants every single moment of it to feel like an eternity for Myst and Chaos.

* * *

Despite the back and forth between Nixon and Chaos, Thomas was doing more than hyping up the match for attention. He was spending his night running on a treadmill, while footage from some of Chris Chaos’ more recent singles matches played on the television set.

There were two ways he could spend his night. On one hand, he could once again break down Chaos’ comments, pointing out the lack of intelligence. He could mention that the “loss” to Cadryn Tiberius was the result of Jim Caedus intentionally slow counting a pin attempt before knocking Nixon out. Sure, Nixon didn’t win the match, but there’s only so much you can do in those situations where you find yourself completely screwed.

But there’s no point bantering with a thick headed man. Chaos continues to call Nixon delusional and his girlfriend calls Nixon a failure, despite Nixon’s numerous victories and accomplishments. Chaos can pretend that Nixon faced low caliber opponents, and he can scoff. Chaos can overlook the fact that Cadryn nearly beat Chaos not to long ago, and Cadryn even dethroned Robert Main. Not only that, Chaos scoffed at Jack Cain, even though Myst couldn’t win when she faced off with Cain and Neville last week.

So Nixon found himself doing something productive. Although he is convinced that Chris Chaos blurts out illogical crap and probably has a social disorder, that doesn’t take anything away from Chaos’ talent. He may not be that successful recently, but he’s held championships. You have to be competent in the ring to come out with the Universal Championship. Nixon won’t play around in the pool and rant. He’ll study up, he’ll prepare a gameplan, and he’ll execute it.

The same goes for Jenny Myst, but there’s good reason why he hadn’t brought her up. We saw her match on Wednesday, she’s beat up and battered. She’s not going to be carrying her team to victory, Chaos is going to have to compensate for her. She has a bag of tricks, like most smaller wrestlers, but that doesn’t take nearly as much time and consideration as a former world champion. And, for more honest reasons, Nixon hadn’t called her out because he didn’t want to hear her rant at him with that whiny voice. Unfortunately, she opened her mouth unprovoked.

Once Nixon seperates himself from the drama, everything comes back to him fast. This is why he’s here. This is what wrestling is about. It’s about finding ways to win and being the best. And he’s driven to do that because of his love for his family. So regardless of what Chaos blurts out next, Nixon isn’t going to bite. For the good of the lizard people, he’s going to sit back, observe, and calculate. That’s the method that has served him well. And that tried and true method will bring rights to his people, sooner or later.

With the lizard people in mind, Nixon bumps up the speed on the treadmill, and he looks intently as Chris Chaos grapples with Thaddeus Duke on the TV, and the scene fades to black.