"I can't be a legend yet. I'm not dead."

- Maynard James Keenan



Houston, Texas
Monday

The day is Monday. As the night approaches workers prep the NRG Stadium for tonights event, Monday Night Madness. The rain seems a bit unsettling for the people on the street. A few huddle together on a bench by the bus stop holding newspapers and whatever they can over their head to shield the misty rain. A bus approaches from the distance and slows to a stop in front of them. The door opens and two men step down from it.

At last, the Doctor has arrived in Houston.

Doctor D'Ville- Here we are, my friend!

The Doctor holds his arms out and basks in the glory of finally arriving at his destination. The Ex-Detective stands behind him, trying to light a cigarette in the light, but rather thick rain. The Doctor produces a flame from his hand and passes it to the Ex-Detective. Once the cigarette is lit, the Doctor places the zippo back into his pocket.

The Ex-Detective stretches his arms out and his neck and back crack in random places. With a deep breathe,

Trevor- Lemme ask ya, Lou. Do you always travel this way?

Doctor D'Ville- I'm not sure what you mean.

The Ex-Detective stops and looks at the Doctor.

Trevor- Well, all of this public transportation is driving me nuts. You're a fucking doctor for crying out loud, why don't we travel a bit more...[/font]

Doctor D'Ville- More, what? My dear boy, do you propose I allow my worth and fame seperate me from this world?

The Doctor stands in place, places his hands back in the air, and spins in a circle. As if, dancing in the rain.

Trevor- I just think since you travel so fucking much, there are much more comfortable ways to travel. With booze.

Doctor D'Ville- Do you wish to travel by air? Sit in first class like some kind of rockstar, Trevor? That's not how things work for us, my friend. You and I, we are people-people. When you look around, what do you see? I see not just people, not just patients, but dear friends of mine. Mister Loverboy claims me to be narcissistic. My friend, I've made it clear from the moment I stepped into this organization that I am FOR the people. FOR the patient. And FOR the cure. Never once have I proposed any affection or interest in myself. And, not to spend a lot of time on this but, would you go to a dentist who lacks confidence? I believe it would be better to overwhelm a patient with confidence rather than lack it, Mister Loverboy. You've had a bad attitude since last Monday night and now you claim your excuses of not being involved in the ending. You secured the victory for Mister Arzegotti by doing most of the work. Well how unfortunate for you. That's how the ball rolls, Mister Loverboy. You should've had your eye on all of your opponents, that right there sounds like a "rookie mistake" to me. But what do I know? I'm just a doctor. Then again, according to you and every other 'know-it-all' I've encountered thus far, I'm no doctor. The things I've heard from everyone regarding my practice is hard to believe. And comparing me to the "Father of Psychoanalysis" is flattering but I'm no fool to sarcasm either, my friends. Perhaps I should refer to you as some of those ROCKERS that made you what you are today? Perhaps Jimi Hendrix, one of the best guitarists that ever lived, oh wait.. He died of a drug overdose at a young age. Hm. Jim Morrison. Lead singer of the Doors, young prodigy, nope, drug overdose at age 27. What about the King of Rock-n-Roll himself? Elvis Presley? Hm. Also dead very young. Do you see a pattern here, Mister Loverboy? I don't mean to start pulling out dead idols of yours, but I want you to see the writing on the wall, my friend. Continue this path and it will surely lead to drugs or enough stress that you won't need the drugs. If you have faith in anything in your life, it should be the words from you doctor.

The Ex-Detective continues a dead stare at the Doctor as he finishes his sentence. He shakes his head and throws his cigarette to the ground.

Trevor- It sounds like you got this gig pretty figured out, Doc...

Doctor D'Ville- And that is where you and all of my patients are wrong. I did not come to the XWF and claim to be the best doctor walking the Earth. I did not flash my accolades in front of anyone. I only stated my duties and what I am here to do. Some treatments fail, some treatments prevail. It's science, my friend, and everyone is different. The biggest problem I believe, besides no one taking me seriously, is the fact they're uncomfortable with my presence in the organization. No one likes being psychoanalyzed. No one likes having their flaws and weaknesses exposed and presented to them. I understand, my friends. It's not the Doctor you fear, it is the needle.

The two walk along the street as they continue to talk. With the NRG Stadium in the background, they walk a few blocks until they reach a small tavern. The Ex-Detective is the first to climb the steps to the door.




The Doctor and Ex-Detective sit alone at a booth inside a small tavern in Houston. The Doctor awaiting his match, the Ex-Detective anticipating every drink.

Doctor D'Ville- Mister Loverboy, you claim your work in the XWF has exceeded your current status. A crowned, solo Trios Champion and the contendership of another. I must say being included in a match with a champion is quite exillerating for me, yet, it feels the same as the previous week. Where I was also in the main event and also fighting a champion. On top of not believing in me and kicking my beliefs aside, your showing a strong amount of jealousy towards the attention I've received thus far. Looking down on my first two matches, which were title shot rewarding battle royals. You're right, no one special belongs in those matches. The GM's, I'm sure, had bigger, better things for you that week. My debut at Relentless, you headlined the first card with your Trios Title Match victory! Which has been tainted due to your lack of ability to make and hold friends. How unfortunate. My second battle royal, which awarded a Television Title shot, took place Monday on the first September. You accepted a challenge from, what you would call, another scrub. I man just as fresh in the company just as myself, that you stepped in and welcomed to the company. Well done, Mister Loverboy. Way to go after the new talent. Something a true champion would do. So, again, your winning streak at the time continued. Perhaps I should challenge the "Aerial Knight" to a match just to continue with the tradition of you beating my opponents before I do. Or would that become unnecessary after I beat you? Well, as I said before, I will not neglect anyone from my treatments. And I believe I have already given Mister Knight my card. Next, we have your Fatal-Fourway, where you defeated the Television Champion, Gator! But, you didn't. And then the dreadful triple threat match, where you finally... Finally, finally, finally. Finally had to swallow a loss. You think my loss to Gator is eating at me? My friend. Vinnie Lane. Mister Loverboy, that was my fourth match in the XWF. A Television Title shot. Do you think I'm wallowing in tears? No. I am not. After seeing what the XWF expects from me, I'm going higher. The Television Title is nothing compared to what I will see in another month. You, on the other hand, you should focus on finding a couple of friends to help carry those three titles you're carrying around now. Again, I'm not impressed with your ability to betray people, or others' lack of interest of defending said gold with you. But it's the only gold you have and the only gold you're going to get your hands on. If you're waiting for a hand down, I'd hate to tell you this especially being a "new guy", but don't hold your breathe, Mister Loverboy.

The Doctor finishes his drink and raises up from the booth.

Trevor- I'll wait here.

The Doctor nods to the Ex-Detective and exits the tavern out to the street. The rain has let up a bit and is more of a few drips here and there rather than a mist. The Doctor begins walking the way they came up the street, back to the NRG Stadium.

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*Song "Sober" by TOOL. Performed by Aaron Lewis of Staind.