October 20th, 2022 Garland, Texas

“So, they're making a documentary thing directed by that one weird interviewer lady?” Darcy Ellis asked, fumbling with a Rubik's cube, her phone dead from the long journey she had experienced in the passenger seat of Ned's Honda, shaking slightly from the unsteady pavement underneath the tires. The Texas sky was a solemn silver, clouds swelling as they seemed on the verge of releasing a heavy rain upon those below.

“Seems so,” Ned responded, his eyes darting over the dashboard as he kept steady on the long road ahead of him. It was consistently uneven, small bumps and dips easily noticeable due to sheer volume. He had kept mostly quiet throughout the trip, a great deal on his mind. Nothing particularly unusual in that regard, but he didn't want to rely to heavily on Darcy to pull him out of his rougher feelings. He was supposed to be the person people could lean on, not the other way around.

Darcy made a few more futile moves on the cube, tossing it into the backseat with an unsatisfied grunt, “Stupid thing. Sooooo... is the doc gonna be about you or what exactly?”

Ned shrugged, keeping a keen focus on the road as he answered, “Not certain yet. I'm gonna assume so because they were reaching out to some people who I know. Did they happen to interview you?”

She replied with sarcastic righteous indignation, placing her hand on her chest to feign being wounded by the inquiry, “Et tu, Ned? Puh-lease. I'm not exactly a star player in your little narrative, buddy.”

“Fair enough. I was just curious.”

“Well, speaking of curious, I would like to know exactly why we're driving out to some house in Texas instead of getting a private plane to a designer hotel, with designer fashion, and designer dr-”

Ned perked an eyebrow at her comment, clearly suspicious as she carried out the syllable.

“-ains. Doesn't that weird company pay you bunches to wrestle animals?”

Sighing, Ned shook his head slightly, “Well, because they didn't like my display there, my last paycheck is actually still being held by them. Theo will figure it out, but it's a bit of a pain until then. Besides, I'm not made of money. Sure, I have a savings, but I was cleaned out a lot by incredibly “high-tech, experimental therapy” you and your coworkers provided and spending a whole year being my literal worst self. That combination isn't what I'd call healthy for finance.”

Sticking her tongue out at him while his eyes were focused on the road and forcing it to retreat as soon as his gaze glanced her way, Darcy replied with a slightly frustrated tone, “You're never gonna let me live down The Chameleon stuff, are you?”

“Since when do you let me live anything down? Also, I saw that.”

“Touche,” Darcy relented, “And you were supposed to. Bleh. But you didn't really answer my question, Ned.”

“Well, my Dad grew up in Texas, so I've got some family nearby. Not only is it easier pricewise, but it's like... I get to be a little closer to Dad before this upcoming match.”

She nodded with a frown, feeling slightly bad about pressing, but still feeling somewhat curious about the other half of her question, “But why bring me along, too?”

Ned hesitated as he gulped, formulating a response to the best of his ability, “Well, y'know, I asked, and you said-”

He paused his sentence as he checked the dash once again, quickly turning on the hazards and pulling over.

“Son of a bitch!”

“What's wrong?!”

“The damn car's trying to overheat. I'm gonna have to call RA and an Uber,” He shut off the engine and rested his forehead against his palm.

“Well, not to pour salt in the wound, but this is another thing I'm not going to let you live down.”

“Duly noted.”

---

Opening the door with the key under the mat, Ned slowly sauntered into the living room, allowing Darcy to walk in front of him as he carried and rolled their luggage indoors. The house held an atmosphere of feeling somewhat vintage, yet nothing too old timey. The floors were a smooth, cold slab with various nice, decorative rugs covering up the hard surface underneath. In the middle of the living room was a large couch and a few other seats pointed towards a rather impressive entertainment center with a fancier looking blu-ray player under the monolithic slab of a television. Darcy gave Ned a suspicious look as he slowly transported the bulky luggage, he carried behind her.

“Are you sure you don't need any help?” She asked.

“What? Me? Y-you know I've got it handled!” He said as he narrowly walked the line of “handling it” and failing utterly. When he finally got to the center of the living room, he gladly began to let the bags sort of shamble off of him before walking over to the table, eyeing a small note as something caught Darcy's attention. Picking up the paper carefully, he gave it a read while she was preoccupied.

Hey, kiddo! Feel free to make yourself at home and watch whatever you'd like! We tried to tidy up the house for you so you wouldn't have to focus too much on doing anything and could just relax before your match! Also, feel free to give your girlfriend a tour of the place! I'm sure she doesn't get to see houses this nice over in ol', gloomy NYC. Have fun!
-Aunt JuJu

Ned rolled his eyes slightly before crumpling up the paper as Darcy made an audible noise.

“Whoooaaaaa.”

“Wh-what is it?” He asked, quickly tossing the paper towards the bin in an impromptu solution to keep it out of Darcy's sight.

“It's DVD heaven, Ned!” In front of her was a shelf filled end to end with DVDs and blu-rays of nearly every genre, all alphabetized in an excellent display of organization. She immediately began running a finger over the collection, “You know what we should watch? A zombie movie!”

“Really? Why's that?”

“Psh, do you have to ask? T'is the season of carnage and calamity, dude! 'Sides, you're looking mighty stressed out after the car issues earlier. Like how I said mighty because of the whole western thing?”

He narrowed his eyes, heading towards the kitchen to grab some popcorn for her, since she seemed dead set on getting to the films as soon as possible, “Yeah, yeah... I'm truly fine, though.”

As Ned went to grab a bowl to put the popcorn in after microwaving it, he noticed a small light on the dishwasher, indicating that it was full. Finding an opportunity to make himself useful, he thought over the situation carefully, placing the bag in the microwave and pressing a few buttons. With some careful thought, he spoke.

“Actually, they asked me to do a few chores tonight while I'm here. You can start without me,” He said, a little louder so she could hear him over the hum of heat that originated from the microwave. He swiftly began unloading the dishes, learning where each belonged easily with just a slight bit of investigation. After that was completed, he noticed that the counters had a residue on them in certain spots. He figured he could make further use of himself, so he decided to continue cleaning, scrubbing them thoroughly until stumbling upon a slight sticky spot on the floor near the sink.

It wasn't until Darcy walked into the kitchen that Ned looked up and stopped focusing on the “chores.”

“What in the hell are you doing?”

He nearly dropped the Swifer he had retrieved from the pantry.

“Nothing much. Just... y'know, chores.”

She rolled her eyes at him, tossing the crumpled up note at his chest, “I believe I read that you didn't need to worry about anything like that.”

“Look, it's just the right thing to do-”

“Is it? Or is it that you're so caught up in trying to be perfect that you'll screw up relaxing?”

“It's not about being perfect, it's about being better!”

Ned shook slightly as he spoke, looking down with a bit of shame.

“You didn't have to see how I ostracized everyone, Darce. What it meant to disappoint everyone... You've stepped foot into that dusty, old gym, but you were never there when it stood for something more than that. For a chance to improve for anybody. I tried to be a role model to everybody in my family, in my town... in the world. And all I did was let them down. So, yeah, I do kinda care about going above people's expectations.”

“But that's insane!” Darcy shouted, frustrated by his lack of awareness, “You can't live a whole life for other people. You're a human being, Ned, and doing this stuff is stupid! There's nothing wrong with trying to be better, because God knows you acted like a piece of work, but what about what you want? When are you going to stop trying to live up to other people's standards and start being happy with your own? You said you wanted to leave that perfectionism behind, right? Then come watch bloody, goopy, sloppy horror movies with me.”

Ned nodded, putting away the mop before grabbing the cold bag of popcorn and taking it with him. As they walked towards the couch, he spoke something quietly.

“You asked earlier why I wanted to bring you along.”

“Yeah?”

“You... you're normal.”

“What does that mean?”

“Let's be honest: my life has been fucking crazy as of lately. I've dealt with some of the most batshit stuff on the planet, but I've kinda grown accustomed to having you here throughout it all... so you being around just feels like a welcome slice of normal in the midst of all that... and I appreciate it. I appreciate you.”

“Well, don't appreciate me too much. You don't need to be telling your family that I'm your girlfriend, after all.”

“Do you sincerely think I uttered those words to them?”

She gave him a glance and saw his expression as they both sat on opposite sides of the couch.

“Fair enough.”

Darcy continued the film, watching the screen fill up with a scene where a violent horde of the undead tore a few remaining survivors to bits under the mask of dusk before looking over at her friend, seeing Ned passed out already after the day, popcorn slightly spilled over him. Chuckling to herself, she quickly snapped a photograph for safekeeping before brushing off some of the corn and draping a blanket over him before resuming the movie.

---

---

---

“On Wednesday night, The King in Rags and The King of Kings walk into Warfare to face each other...”

“But, unfortunately for them, they're not just going in there to compare crowns. They've been gifted an interloper. Someone who has never claimed to be royalty of any sort, who laid their moniker down instead of sliding further into a persona based on a quippy, marketable title. But this also means that I'm not coming into this match looking like an obvious favorite. Frankly, I'm more than used to being seen as the underdog, even when the truth is far removed from that perception. What exactly do I mean? I mean that these two might have some fire in them, but that it's nowhere near my level. I mean that despite these two kings talking a big game, neither of them hold one very specific claim to fame. I mean that Mark Flynn, our current Universal Champion fell to Peter Vaughn clean in the middle of the ring, but Peter needed backup to take me down. But is that what people think of when they're prepping for this match? No, they think of me in an opening match with a gorilla. That's why I was so annoyed about the situation, beyond the obvious moral implications. I know what level I am at, and it is the peak of this company along with the rest of The Trilogy. Every single day of my life, I have my failures and shortcomings shoved into my face by people who cannot begin to understand me, let alone empathize. Yet when I prove myself, once again, as one of the cornerstones of the XWF, everyone runs back to try and say the same, tired old crap to me. Not today. Not here. Not now. I might be uncrowned, but I am a voice of those on the ground, working like hell to be the best version of themselves they can be, and I have a lot to say about the self-satisfied royalty facing me.”

“I should start with the man from my own neck of the woods, Goth. See, New Yorkers typically share a sort of unity and brotherhood with one another because no matter what walk of life you come from, there's a place for you somewhere in the city. And it's a beautiful thing. Sure, not everyone's an angel, but you can strike up a conversation with most folk over a slice of the best pizza on the damn planet and connect with them at some level. It's a community that can find the brightest of humanity under the darkest, most shattered skies. But for every million of us, there's one of you, Goth. Somebody who gladly squanders the opportunity to be part of that in favor of feeling above everyone else. You know what one of my favorite pastimes was when I was still actively running The Notorious Gym? I would get up in the morning and I'd watch as the sunrise slowly stretched over my hometown and everyone else in it. And there was this moment where I'd get this feeling that I was so utterly minuscule, just like everyone else and that sensation would fade away because I realized that it was all about perspective. Sure, I was small on this planet and in New York, but I was the same size as everybody else and it's hard to feel much bigger than that.”

“But you're not the kind to embrace humility even as it seeks you out, huh? I've watched your stuff. I've seen you stand in your tower and look at my friends and family and me for years as tiny ants, utterly beneath you. I mean, why learn a lesson, when you can instead be the most melodramatic shithead in the XWF? I might be a little goofy, but at least I had the wherewithal to not name myself after a culture that stopped being cool after The Cure released Disintegration. You want to look at me like an insignificant bug? Fine, underestimate me and see where it takes you, but here's a spoiler alert: it's gonna be right back in Spencer's Gifts. I'm Ned Kaye and I speak on behalf of the “nobodies” you spent a lifetime LARPing Vampire: The Masquerade above: you're outnumbered, outmatched, and outclassed. And you're going to do something I know will eat up that ego you carry around on your back: make you remember my name.”

“Now, Finn- Mr. King In Rags- you're someone I want to respect, maybe even root for. Honest. It's difficult to stand up for the right thing, especially at this moment in time in the XWF. It seems like we've had a string of increasing elaborate, bureaucratic “baddies” trying to get a leg up in the past few years by skewing the moral expectations of this company in their favor. So, simply doing the right thing in this era is something to be proud of. That said... I am pretty disappointed in you, Finn. Because for all your lip-service to redemption, you sure as hell don't show it too strongly in your actions. Yeah, you did a big video package showing all of your desired matches, but that nothing to do with being redeemed and everything to do with ego. If you wanted a match with me so badly, you didn't have to put my face on a screen, you could have just asked. But that's not behavior fitting a king, eh? Well, what about what you're doing for Buster Gloves, helping him find the culprit to that suspicious victory of yours? I know there are a few who make fun of you for that, but it is the right thing to do. There isn't anything to be gained in a victory you didn't earn except for a number ticking up by one. But... you didn't seem to care too much about that fact until Gloves came to you, didn't you? You would have gladly taken that dirty win until it started interfering with your carefully calculated image.”

“You call yourself The King in Rags, but you expect everyone to forget that you dressed yourself! If this Emperor so badly wants new clothes, he need only put on a different goddamn shirt. You act like there's this huge chip on your shoulder that people hacking at, but you practically invite it. Why? Because you need that, Finn. It's why you let Charlie yap dogshit you could respond to instead of planting the flag in the ground firmly to begin with. Sure, you bantered with your trainer about him, but that's about as toothless as Goth is underneath the designer dentures. The simple truth is that you're not just thin-skinned Finn, but you need that and so you bring it upon yourself. Because if we start looking at the truth of things, we begin to realize that this company did just fine without you, but the opposite isn't true. But without me? When I fell away and became some deluded version of myself, this company lost a piece of itself and that's a fact that even you're aware of. I am the heart of this company, The Ace of the XWF, and the uncrowned, unbreakable, unstoppable man you see before you. I'm not perfect and I'm in pursuit of redemption myself, but it's not for some cameras or to get to a title. I'm doing it for me. I want to be a better person, Finn, even if that means not having a belt. That's not something you can say. So, you can keep your “road of kings” or “optimal path” or whatever dime-a-dozen destination for your deluded decisions you want because I don't walk down a set path, the pavement settles into my footprints.”

“Finn might carry my desire to be redeemed, but he lacks my principles and my willingness to do what's right for its own merits. And Goth might share my tendency towards analytic, but he lacks one huge thing no amount of planning can afford you: a beating heart. You're two great wrestlers, but you're stuck lacking the qualities that make me the complete package. Class is in and you two are about to learn a very valuable lesson on Wednesday, something I can't wait to teach you both.”

“If you're going to throw hands with The Ace, you're gonna need more than a king.”[/font]

"You can't run from yourself."