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Okay?

Natalie stands motionless, almost frozen, as Cadryn seems to glide past her.

No worries, my dear, I'll be back soon.

Cadryn?

He turns to face her.

Are you feeling alright?

Never better.

Cadryn smiles as he walks towards the back door.

Where are you going?

Cadryn stops and turns his head to look back.

I told you, I have an appointment.

Cadryn continues out the back door and smells the fresh, yet very dry, Texas air as he looks out about the flat lands in front of him. An old, unused outhouse sits skimming the edges of the yard. It's more of an old antique nowadays. Surely no one has used it in quite some time and SURELY Cadryn and Natalie have done their best to clean it up enough to make it a proper yard ornament. He approaches it as Natalie watches from the house and enters. He sits down on the seat and suddenly, like an elevator it lights up and appears, and sounds so with a hum, to be in motion.

After a few moments, there's a "DING" and the motion feeling wears off. Cadryn stands back up from the seat and pushes open the door to reveal a beautiful office. It's decorated just as Doctor D'Ville's would be with the fireplace, the grandfather clock, the many sources of reading material upon the shelf, and, of course, the large desk and chair accompanied with the drinking stand behind it. Cadryn smiles as he exits through the door and enters the office to approach the desk. He fixes himself a drink, lights up a cigar, and takes a seat behind it. Only for a few moments to go by before there is a sudden knock at his door. It creaks open, where James Raven pokes his head through.... Cadryn smiles.

I've been expecting you, my friend. Come right in.

The door swings open the rest of the way and James makes his way to the couch in front of the desk to sit down. He eyes Cadryn every step of the way, only now, it's not Cadryn. It's Doc.

(OOC: TO SEE THE SESSION CLICK HERE ---> I Love Dick)

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AFTER

I accept your apology, Mister Raven.

James sits quietly on the couch, squinting like a scared dog everytime the clock ticks beside only becoming more annoyed by it by the second. Suddenly, the ticks STOP. James looks over to it, a puzzled look on his face, then looks back to the doctor.

I could tell that was bothering you.

Doc smiles.

Mister Raven, it's not so much the swearing that offends the good doctor, it's the lack of respect that I receive while you're in my presence. Don't get me wrong, I understand credit is given where credit is due and whether I've earned that respect or not not to this day, well, that's up to you.

I think our feelings are pretty mutual at this point.

Indeed!

Doc spins around in his chair, a few arms flail, then he spins around presenting a drink in his hand to slide it across the desk.

And as I do with all of my most beloved patients, I intend to make this as comfortable as possible.

Raven stares at the glass the doctor has presented him with much caution. Doc holds up his own, supposedly filled with the same contents as the one he provided his tag team partner for the week.

To....

Doc ponders for moment.

Respect?

That devilish gring remains. James reaches for the glass and pics it up next to Doc's.

To respect.

He agrees and the glasses clink together. Doc gulps all of his down in one shot as Raven, still skeptical of the situation, takes a sip of his own and places it back on the desk.

You know it's a shame that you don't share your attitude with a few others, Mister Raven.

James cocks an eyebrow and chuckles a bit, feeling a bit of relief now.... Especially since that clock fucking quit.

Um, how so?

Doc chuckles himself.

Well, for starters, does my Cajun accent offend you?

Bewildered again, James cocks an eyebrow.

Well, I'm Canadian, so... It comes across kind of French-like to me... so... no?.

Doc slams his hand on the desk, the first true movement he's made since Jame's entered the office and makes him jump.

Exactly!

Doc laughs out loud.

We all speak a little differently, do we not? Wait, did I structure that sentence correctly? Jim?

Doc leans forward and stares straight into James Raven's soul.

I guess?

Another palm slap on the desk.

Well, hot damn! So you understand me clearly when I speak?

James nods.

Then what's the big deal here?

Doc holds his arms out in question, James Raven doesn't know what to do other than shrug his arms himself.

Boy, oh boy. You picked me clean, didn't you JC?

Doc snuffs out his cigar and turns away from Raven, who sits motionless, still bewildered, and a bit freaked out.

Does the way I speak bother you THAT much?! I mean, we all weren't raised in the same trailer park here, so surely our lingo might differ just a tiny bit. Was it THAT indecipherable that you had to pick each and every word I said apart and dry hump it into submission like that wall over there I was banging my head off of while watching YOUR crap? Sorry, I tried to make a funny there, was that too out of my persona for you? I'll tell you what, if we ever have a one-on-one, which you gladly, and made me glad, accepted, I'll be sure to whip out the old 3rd Grade English textbook before I speak and focus on sentence architecture. Or maybe I'll focus on kicking those false teeth down your throat induced by all that crystal meth you loved so much back in the day. Then again, I'd hate to take away the only thing you have to throw at me, or, are you going to one up me because you mainlined it instead of smoked it? Kudos, you piece of crap. You're formerly homeless, family-less, hopeless addict with an A+ in English class.

James sits still, his one leg folded over the other now, taking short sips from the drink Doc provided him wishing he had some popcorn.

Your pal Trax talked a big game, too, you know. He said the same shlew of crap you said when I shrugged off his idea of how much a stellar match between us was coming up. I told everyone what was going to happen if he crossed me for, literally, MONTHS. I DID NOT take him seriously. So what does he do...? I'm going to attack this guy backstage.... Interfere in his matches.... Attack him after matches..... NOT TO GET THE UPPER HAND ON HIM THOUGH! No, no, no! He wasn't doing that. He was just.... Hmm..

Doc pauses for a moment in question....

Okay, so you see where attacking me got him right? Pinned in the center of the ring. I know you don't stoop to those kind of lows because you have your OWN lows to fall back on, JC. I mean, [strike]besides the way I speak... You claim my alcoholism plays a part?[/strike]

Doc holds up his empty glass as he reaches around for the bottle to pour another. He holds the bottle up to Raven sitting across from him... Raven waves him off holding up the half a glass he still retains from the previous pour.

It's hard not to drown yourself in nectar when you have stuff like THIS to deal with day in and day out. You're honestly a headache when it comes to this.

He takes a sip and sets his glass down, staring at James Raven for a moment who shares the gaze back, with a worrisome look on his face. Not that he's scared, not that he's frightened of the good doctor.... More of a look of concern, not for his well-being, but perhaps the good doctor, himself, as he seems upset.

I compare this UNIVERAL Title reign to that of Peter Gilmour's. It. Just. Should. Not. Have. Happened. I give Scully more credit than any of those two. At least he knew to bring it when the gloves were down.

And THEY WERE down.

Jim Caedus won the championship under the same circumstances I did. I was a bit craftier when it was all said in done, but all that matters is who walks away with the gold, am I right? Of course I am, but what matters more to me is the fact we have someone who cannot WITHSTAND the weight of the UNIVERSAL Title upon himself. Even after stellar performances week in and week out, the weight of this UNIVERSE is crushing him. It's squeezing him. It's suffocating him. Punishing him in which he will suffer into an unnoticable, untracable, undeniable, inevitable end. Just race it, JC, you just CANNOT manage. You've had your own challenges, sure.... Suuuuuuure....... Ahem.

I told you that Duke and Chaos weren't a challenge and was all fun and games until you reached my yard, right? Your success rate, Mister Caedus, has been high. Give-in. So has mine. You may not lose often, but I lose less often. You may win a lot, but I win a lot more. You like to show up to every event and burn yourself up? I don't. Your brother Chris Chaos liked to to do that. He also liked to talk about the new generation and how you boys took the world by storm. Pfft. Only because we let you.. You all speak about how ALL of these names are just old and obsolete now and supposed to make room for the new crop. Holy crap, over my dead body. Over my wrinkly, decrepit, nasty, aging, old body. You stupid pricks.

I'll admit your brother, Chris Chaos, did a lot more to scale his way to a UNIVERSAL Title. He DID beat me, whether it was my fault or not, and that's a notch in his belt. YOU, Jim Caedus, will NEVER beat me. You will NEVER be able to come back and say, "Well atleast a beat Doc." Even if you did there would be the other seven times that I beat you, so yeah. You remember how I talked about how pathetic HE was during my last little spiel? You are that times ten, my friend. More pathetic than Peter Gilmour showing up on Heyman's Rankings every week claiming that, one day, he'll reach the top. Claiming that, one day, he'll be UNIVERSAL Champion again. You've heard the "This is you brain... Egg.... This is your brain on drugs.. Egg in a frying pan" bit right? Well, this is you, Peter Gilmour. And this is you thinking you're ever going to be something EVER AGAIN.... Peter Gilmour. Catch that?

You've ridden your high horse long enough. After this week, after you've fallen to me twice in two, I'll show you a third an final time that YOU don't belong here. You belong back working week after week after week after week for a Television Title. Or maybe I'll give Chaos his wish and mercilessly break you neck in the process and you'll be reduced to selling hot dogs outside the stadium from a wheel chair the rest of your life. I'm not one to ruin careers, no, no. I'm here to enhance them. In your case though, Jim, I could easily take an exception.

I mentioned how much you and Chaos are alike before, but it's so much clearer now. SO much clearer. The self-entitlement didn't just become a thing out of the blue. It was MY fault. My fault to even put the idea into you damn newbies heads that you even stand a chance around here. New generation... Power couples... Thorns... Idiots.

Doc chuckles to himself as Raven continues to stare at Doc with his same, bewildered stare that he had form earlier as the doctor sat in his chair the entire time talking to thin air....

Did we just do a promo?

You both started so fresh like a breath of clean air. Now? You've both become stale and your rotting.

Rotting away into nothing.

I'm like a shark in bloody water right now. I'm like a cheetah sitting in the brush eying up a gazelle, ready to pounce. I'm like that Big Bad Wolf that everyone has told you about. Your spidey-senses are tingling. Your assholes are puckering and your throats are drying up. That little bit of man that was left in you all from facing me beforehand has left YOU behind. Along with thatvlittle bit of courage. That little bit of strength..... Where is it? Fools. Haha. Fucking fools.

Raven perks up.

Um? Bless you?

Doc's head shoots over, realizing after the criticism he gave Mister Raven before it came back to bite him. He smiles a devilish, yet apologetic grin from ear to ear towards Raven who rolls his eyes as he takes another sip from the hard liquor Doc has provided him.

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