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Chris Chaos · (03-31-2017)

The Art Of War, Chapter 2

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“To secure ourselves against defeat lies in our own hands, but the opportunity of defeating the enemy is provided by the enemy himself.”
― Sun Tzu, The Art of War

---As much as he would try to flip the script, Gabe Reno was a beaten man. He was broken, defeated, and the bell hadn't even rang yet. You could see it in his promos. He was desperate, nervous, anxious....afraid. He knew what was at stake but he questioned himself as to if he could actually get the job done. He looked at his reflection in the mirror every day and hated what he saw. He could never be Chris, as much as he wanted to be. He was opening up more and more with each promo. He was exposing his fear. He was showing his desperation. He was reaching for any straw he could. He was a tired, aching, broken man. He just needed one break. One break and maybe he could get by. But that break wasn't coming, and he knew it. He knew it and he hated it. It consumed him. He was obsessed with his own failures. You could see it in his eyes, and hear it every time he opened his mouth. He was paranoid. THAT was the opportunity that Chris would take advantage of at Lethal Lottery. He would prey on Gabe's own self doubt until what lay before him was nothing more than a pile of ripped skin and broken bones. A soulless organism devoid of any human characteristics. Gabe Reno brought this on himself, and he knew it. He had made a monster, and now that monster was after him.

“He will win who knows when to fight and when not to fight. ”
― Sun Tzu, The Art of War

---There was a reason that Gabe has put out more promos, and had been seen more on XWF TV. Chris was not going to get sucked into a war of word with this moron. He was going to say what needed to be said, when it needed to be said, then take care of the rest in the ring. Picking your battles is the most important part. Anyone who had been following this rivalry for the past few months would surely think Gabe was in the lead. His childish pranks and mind games were cunning and coy, but Chris was a warrior. He didn't bring himself down to that level. Every move he made was planned out, and executed to perfection. He wasn't in it for humor and entertainment. He was in it to be the best in the world at what he does--something he proved each and every time he stepped between those ropes. He knew when to pick his battles, and in this case it was to be at the Pay Per View. Sure, he could have done so much more....he could have slashed Gabe's tires. He could have put laxatives in his water bottle. He could have hired male strippers to wait for him in his locker room with a boom box and a bottle of grease. But those were all things that Gabe Reno would do. Those weren't the actions of, not just a champion, but the TOP champion this business had to offer. He knew when to attack and when to fall back and let the enemy over think. This was one of those times. He sat in his hotel room in North Korea and let Gabe wallow in his own self doubt. Picking your battles is a war you will always win.

“War is like a fire - if you do not put it out, it will burn itself out.”
― Sun Tzu, The Art of War

---This fire was a bit more difficult than most. This fire continued to rage up from its embers. Everytime it looked like the fire might be dying down, it gets refuled like the austistic boy scout at camp who sprays it with aerosal while everyone yells "GABE NOOOOO". This is a fire he would have to put out himself. There would be no fizzling, and no time to let it fizzle. This had to end here. There was no amount of water in the world that could put this fire out, so it would have to be the cold breath of pure evil that did it. Gabe had pushed too many buttons. He had made a creature that he could not control. Dr. Gabe Frankenstein was going to be a victim of his own creation. Chris was going to put this fire out, end this war. Gabe Reno was simply a pawn in the chess game at this point. It was only a matter of time before he was jumped, surpassed, and set next to the table to watch as the king ravaged the rest of the board. Checkmate. Gabe Reno was walking into the mouth of hell and all he had was a squirt gun. There was no way he was going to be able to put out a fire this big. Chris had the hose. He had the power. He had the endless supply. Chris was the hope that every member of the roster kept deep inside and refused to let surface. The Great White Hope. He was going to be the final gush that put this fire out for good. That put Gabe Reno out for good.

“He who wishes to fight must first count the cost,”
― Sun Tzu, The Art of War

---Chris had counted it over and over and over again. Counted it so much that he swore there were some grey hairs in there. There was no cost greater than this. There was no hope or honor to defend outside of this. Holding this title made him whole. It made him who he was. There was nothing on planet earth that could mean more to him in this moment. He wondered if Gabe Reno had counted the cost. Had he weighed the pros and cons of the beating he was about to take. Had he really sat down and thought about the cost of having a few years of his career taken away from him, only to lose to the better man? Had he counted the cost of opening his mouth and poking the bear? Chris doesn't think he had. Look at the first time these two squared off. Gabe ended up in the hospital and for all intents and purposes quit the XWF before coming back and having to basically beg Vinnie for his job back. Chris had been pushed, sure, but in the end he squashed Gabe like the vermin he was. The blood loss was amazing. He didn't think a human could bleed that much. And Gabe wanted to do this dance again? Well it takes two to tango....and Chris was more than willing of beating him to within an inch of his life for a second time. He was perfectly fine with it. He had counted the cost of this and any and all pain he may feel, he felt, was completely worth it.

Chris sat in his hotel room, overlooking the grey and dreary city known a Pyongyang. This is where his war had taken him. His war with Gabe Reno. His war to remain the top dog in a business that was dog eat dog.

He was the biggest dog, therefore he was the hungriest.

On the wall of the hotel and plastered all over the fuzzy screen of the television was military propaganda. It was very anti-American. However, it was beautiful in a way. Depictions of tanks, soldiers in perfect formation, marching to the beat of a hidden organ. The colorful landscape--a sea of red, yellow and orange as the people in attendance did a dance and sang songs of revolution. This was creepy, but beautiful in its own way. It was art.

The Art of War.

Nearby was a photo of Kim Jong-un with Dennis Rodman, his new found friend as both had a love of basketball. Chris rememberd the New York Post article he had read before leaving for this god forsake place:

In so many ways, Dennis Rodman seems the diplomat North Korea deserves: defiant, unpredictable, irrational, unhinged.

Yet the comic aspects of his so-called “basketball diplomacy” — the drunken defense of dictator Kim Jong-un on CNN; serenading Kim with “Happy Birthday”; gifting him with several bottles of his own liquor, Bad Ass Vodka; allowing his “Dream Team” of motley ex-and wannabe NBA players to lose to the North Koreans — has turned the most brutal regime in the world into a punchline for late-night comics.

Lost among the jokes is the suffering of the average North Korean — the 24.7 million who live in abject poverty in the world’s most isolated nation.

North Korea’s human-rights record has been condemned by Human Rights Watch, Amnesty International and the United Nations. Aside from saber-rattling, the government maintains little communication with the outside world.

The nation has so little electricity that, in the ultimate metaphor, nighttime satellite imagery shows North Korea gone dark, the only country in the world not illuminated. Travelers are only allowed to move within a circumscribed part of Pyongyang and are chaperoned and surveilled by government officials.

Most North Koreans have access to that one TV station and one newspaper, both state-run; they are told that their country is the only functioning and prosperous nation on Earth and that outside rages an apocalypse.

If only they knew. The apocalypse was coming to THEIR country in just a matter of hours. An apocalypse for one man inside a steel cage. 15 feet high. Totally enclosed.

“The art of war teaches us to rely not on the likelihood of the enemy’s not coming, but on our own readiness to receive him”
― Sun Tzu, The Art of War

---Gabe was coming guns blazing, there was no question about that. Gabe was going to give everything he had in this match....but it just wasn't enough. Chris was ready for this. Gabe claims Chris isn't ready for what he is going to experience inside that steel cage. That couldn't be further from the truth. Chris was beyond ready for anything and everything coming his way. Chris would take each blow and deal out one two times harder. He was ready for every punch, every suplex, every move Gabe knows. It was all coming and all Chris could do was take it all in with open arms. He wouldn't be a champion if he wasn't the most ready in the biggest moments. The REAL question here is whether or not Gabe is ready for what is coming to him.

“All men can see the tactics whereby I conquer, but what none can see is the strategy out of which victory is evolved.”
― Sun Tzu, The Art of War

---Chris had put years into perfecting his craft. Since the moment the bell rang in his first ever match, he had become a student of the game. A pupil. Tape after tape. He would watch it all. Every move, analyze the good and bad. Watching a 10 minute match would take him hours sometimes, because he broke down every aspect of what wasn't executed to pure perfection. Every single inch of the match was gone over with a fine tooth comb. Improve. That was the goal. Every single match he would grow a little more becaue he learned from previous mistakes. This was the art of a true champion. This is what made a champion good, what set him apart from others. The reason Chris was so successful was because he was a student of the game.

This is now a war. This never was a war, nor did it have to be. Gabe Reno made it that way. Gabe Reno made it into something it didn't need to be. This was a war that was spurned on by jealousy. Pure and simple. This was a war that that came from sheer greed. One party wanted to be what the other one was, and would not let it go. So they attacked in ambush fashion, over and over, trying to wear the bigger more superior foe down. Get under their skin. But it didn't work. All it did was make the bigger, faster and stronger foe angry.

He wouldn't like him when he was angry.

Nobody did. He hadn't been this angry in so long. In a way, Chris needed this. He needed that poke. He needed to be awoken. The sleeping giant within him needed to be taken forcefully out of hibernation.

Now he was. This was a war. Pure and simple. It would ravish communities, destroy families, cause billions in damage. It would forever alter the lives of all of those involved. This was a war that wasn't going to have mass casualties, however. It would only require one. Gabe Reno. The Radical One.

The Radically Delusional.

The false hope that maybe the little guy had a chance. The false hope that maybe the meek could actually inherit the earth.

It was exactly that. False hope. False hope fueled by empty promises, shallow words and broken dreams.

Shattered remains of what could have been.

This was hell on earth, North Korea. For Gabe Reno, that hell comes ten fold. A mile of unforgiving steel. Not only does he have to be pinned, but he has to be pinned TWICE. Oh, the humiliation. The fact that he not only has to get beaten but beaten twice. Gabe's entire world was about to turn upside down.

If only he knew.....

If only his delusional mind would allow him to know.

This war just got personal.

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Chris was looking at himself in the mirror......he was admiring the face of a champion. XWF camera's were on him. It was time for his final words......

"I am an animal, Gabe. I am an animal that you created. But it is not a Panda, oh no. Panda's are not just cute and cuddly but essentially useless. An animal that size, refined to captivity, so passive and okay with whatever fate may come its way. No. That is not me. I am a tiger. I have teeth that can tear you to shreds without even trying. I stalk my prey, moving virtually in silence, and attack when my prey is at its most vulnerable point. That is you, Gabe. You are the most vulnerable right now....more vulnerable than you have ever been. You are a wounded animal, and you know it. You are just trying to stay hidden long enough to heal so you can put up some sort of resistance when the tiger comes for you. There is no place to hide. That cage, it is my jungle. That cage, it is my sanctuary. I am out for blood now, Gabe.

I said it before, and I will say it again. I am dangerous. I shouldn't be let out of my cage, Gabe. You have made me this way. You couldn't just leave well enough alone. Well now you are going to find out just how dangerous I can be. I have only felt this way once before in my entire life. It was with Jason Corrigan. A hatred doesn't burn this white-hot very often. This is something that is rare. More rare than a Gabe Reno title win. You see......this is a war, and there is an art to this shit. There is a beauty of it. When it comes to the art of war they call me goddamn Van Gogh. War is my forte, as is chaos. I like being the aggressor, and I like demoralizing my enemies. I like painting a picture of their fate. I am not getting dragged into a war of back and forth words like kids on a playground, Gabe. I am going to keep this one short, and sweet, I----"

His words were cut off. There was a knock on his hotel room door. His mandatory transport to the arena had arrived. You can't go anywhere in North Korea without a state given escort. He and Jenny looked at each other, and Chris reached out and turned the camera off. The sound of the door opening cut though the blackness before the audio cut out, too.

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