The Flame Still Burns - Printable Version

The Flame Still Burns - Printable Version

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The Flame Still Burns - Doctor Louis D'Ville - 10-04-2016

009

Flame Still Burns

"What are you? Crazy?!"

Trevor kicks and pushes away as Soldier attempts to shove the large needle into his arm. Soldier pushes and fights back thriving for the blood of the Irishman.

"Get back here!"

Doc laughs to himself as he watches his tag team partner crawl after the fat Irishman with a tourniquet wrapped around his bicep with a needle and hose dangling on the ground. Doc turns his attention beyond the Winnebago to the small town. He pulls a cigar from his inside pocket and starts down the path.

It was less of a small town and more of a village. An extremely outdated village with no electricity or vehicles. The people were all dressed in basic rags and there was just the simplest of technologies assisting them in their simplest of lives.

The center street had the market and the largest street of all. It branched off into several dead end avenues where most of the people lived in cottages, all lined up in little rows. The market is where most of the population spent their days. Little shops were placed one by one next to each other selling anything from crops, meat, supplies, weaponry, and so on. Everyone worked together, with their own task, with their own purpose. The main artery of an extremely well functioning economy.

Doc stood in the middle of the street in admiration as every single person worked diligently at their own specific duties, congregating with each other as the friendliest of neighbors. He laughed as they laughed while they joked with one another as each person passes another. The doctor hops on the back of a passing buggy filled with straw pulled by a small horse and rides a few blocks until he finds what he's looking for. A tavern, of course. He hops off the buggy and skips up to the door and makes his way inside.

"Hello, my friends."

Doc says to an empty bar. He makes his way over to a stool and takes a seat. The old barmaid walks over and serves a short cocktail to the good doctor. Doc smiles at her as she stays expressionless and walks away.

"Well, I hate to say I told you so, but..."

He pulls one of the XWF Tag Team Title belts from out of nowhere and holds it up. He laughs then tucks it back away again.

"... Unknown Soldier and I did exactly what we said we were going to do. We went to Wednesday Warfare and we took those Tag Team Championships from Robbie Beef. An interesting duo from the start. It's hilarious to me that even Robbie Bourbon, himself, had no idea he was partnered with the XWF UNIVERSAL Champion until I revealed it."

"Scully, what were you trying to prove, my friend? That you could stand up next to the big boys? That you belong at the top? I ripped that stupid mask from your head and the UNIVERSE was shocked to see their precious champion being kicked around as he was. Or were they? I hope you're over your little power trip now. I hope you're through trying to be something you're not. It's exremely unhealthy, man. You're just going to get yourself hurt."

"Or pinned."

"The only place you saved yourself any embarrassment is being pinned by ME, Mister Scully, because YOU know, EVERYone knows, it would never be the other way around. I hope Mister Bourbon thanked you personally for lending a hand in his continued plummet in the XWF Power Rankings around here. You basically cut the rope on this one, my friend, by letting not just him, but the PEOPLE down with that loss."

"Now it's come to my attention the past couple of weeks here that I just can't enjoy a good earned victory, can I?"

"After defeating three teams to become the number one contenders for these straps, John Black, of ALL people... Comes to the ring with a chair and cleans house. You DO realize you had your chance, my friend? In fact, the team that kicked your ass in the FIRST round won the whole damned thing. After all the nonsense you spewed out at the end, I'm not sure you even remembered competing earlier in the night, did you? Took a couple extra blows to that empty melon of yours? If you and Shane

's BLACKEST HOLE would like a another shot at this FINE federation's ONLY team worthy of competing for the gold, you're more than welcome, my friend. There's not much of a line in front of us here, so step right up and Unknown Soldier and I, Doctor SATAN!, would be MORE than happy to kick you back into your place... Under Shane

's desk."

"The following week, after I, Doctor Louis D'Ville, PINNED the XWF UNIVERSAL Champion for the the tag straps, ANOTHER contender that failed in the tournament intruded my ring."

"It's obvious that your foul intentions weren't as much in my direction, Mister War Pig, but was the kick to the head necessary? I understand that you're in quite the epic of matches coming this Wednesday against my very own partner, Unknown Soldier, for a VERY prestigious prize. Not only is that retched X-Treme Title on the line, but the combination of YOUR VERY OWN newly won Intercontinental Championship is on the line as well."

"As I said, I'm sure your intentions were to just get one step ahead of my partner, but that's two weeks in a row that someone decided to stick their ugly mug into the doctor's business. I know you're new around here and all, Mister Pig. I know you've reached heights that some haven't reached even after years of competing here... But it is no secret that when you cross the doctor, there's little to no chance you're walking away. You're like everyone else around here, there isn't a DAMN thing you have to hold over MY head. If the finals of that tournament wasn't enough to show you're place in this endless competition, if Unknown Soldier beating you into a bloody pile of bacon and sausage doesn't do it, the doctor would be MORE than happy to show you again, and again, and again. Not sure if it will be much worth my time. After all, you'll be titleless, already suffered your first loss, and beaten and bruised beyond repair. But hey, the doc NEVER denies one of his patients a session. When the time comes, my friend, if you're still huffing and puffing your chest out and have something you feel you want to prove, the doctor's doors are ALWAYS open."

Doc reaches down and pulls the small glass to his lips for a sip. Just before the nectar touches his lips the door to the tavern swings open violently. Fat Irish Trevor stumbles through and slams the door behind him.

"I knew you'd be here!"

Trevor yells across the bar between breaths. He huffs and wheezes as he waddles over to the doc.

"Thanks for the fuckin' help back there. What is that fucking guy's deal?! He's almost killed my like ten times since we've met!"

Doc chuckles at Trevor's newly acquired Irish accent, while managing to retain his west coast vocabulary.

"How DID you manage to get away from him?"

Trevor leans across the bar and looks up and down it for a barmaid.

"I had a distraction.... Hello?"

Trevor continues to search for some service.

"A distraction, you say?"

"Yeah. A flock of sheep... Hundreds of the damn things all came over the crest of that hill up there. Your fuckin' friend jumped off of me and started chasing them all down. He'd catch one and just tear it's fucking head off and scream 'HAIL SATAN!' then move onto the next one."

Doc nearly chokes on his drink and laughs to himself.

"Sounds about right."

"After the shit I've seen over the past couple of weeks, yeah, I guess. You're a fucked up guy too, Doc."

Trevor looks up and down the bar again.

"So, this is some town huh? A little behind on the times, don't you think?"

"A well-oiled machine, my friend! Everyone knows their place. Everyone knows where they belong. Every piece of that machine working to it's highest efficiency producing at it's finest potential!"

Trevor raises one of his thick, bright orange eyebrows.

"R-right."

"It's the truth, my friend! If ONLY the XWF would work in the same manner. There are parts mismatched and pieces where they don't belong. The machine is in MUCH need of maintenance with a large lack of tools and no parts in stock for repair."

Trevor is now behind the bar, preparing his own drink, half ignoring the doctor as he rambles on.

"From the two gentlemen who so rudely interupted my celebrations, to Ghost Tank holding a meaningless tribute, to Scully being a shell of a representation to OUR own UNIVERSE. I've said from the start that things are amidst an extreme change around here. A change where each and every single one of you will remember your place. Those of you who just don't know any better? You will. If my own accolades and legendary status is not enough, if destroying every known competing team in the XWF right now to claim the tag titles wasn't enough, then I will individually, one-by-one, handle the issue myself."

"Chris Chaos, YOU, my friend, are the doctor's next patient on a very extensive list of such. It's good that you're already spitting and spatting and choking on the ever so bitter taste of defeat. I would hate to be the one to throw you from your high horse on your epic triumphant start in this most splendid organization. The high horse that you've worked an entire lifetime to finally dig your spurs into."

"The road here just wasn't as easy as some, was it Mister Chaos? Your stifling upbringing... Your vengeful personality... Don't be shy, my friend. You're not the first felon, convicted or not, that the doctor has had the pleasure of working with. I've treated rapists, murderers, theives, and criminals all-alike. A kidnapping, murdering arsonist will be no different."

"The doctor can sees the same fire that burned those churches burning inside your gut, my boy."

"The anger."

"The hate."

"The nonsense of going above and beyond extreme measures... All for what? A piece of tail?"

Doc laughs to himself.

"Would it have been worth all that tail if the authorities would have actually caught up with you and you spent the remainder of your miserable life behind bars, RATHER than sitting in a pricey penthouse in Florida."

"I know your type, Mister Chaos. You leave the image in our eyes that you're something great and special. A superstar in his own way, long before his arrival here at the XWF. I've watched you prance around for weeks, clinging onto every little victory that you've managed to squeeze out. You DO put in some hard work, my friend, and it's definitely showed. After tuning into your run at the Television Championship, I am very disappointed to see that you've failed after all of that hard work and talk couldn't amount to the walk necessary to beat five other 'NO-ONES'. After talking down your opposition all week, the scrubs, the chldren, the former champs... HMM.... Maybe you should have competed on Nico's level for a bit and went after that Federweight Title yourself! At least young Nico has ONE notch on his belt compared to the clean slate you're wearing. Granted, I've talked down a few champions in my day, as well, but I've been looking down and pissing on heads around here for years. So, whatever you do, don't look up."

"You could probably look at this week in two ways, Mister Chaos. Could it be a chance to prove yourself? Do what the young, little rookie Miss Riot did?"

The doctor laughs and takes a sip from his drink. Trevor is still behind the bar enjoying himself.

"Or accept the fact you're in some deeeeeeeeep water and you suck at swimming. You see, every dog has his or her day, my friend. What I'm getting to is, if you think there's the slightest, tiniest hint of a chance that you're going to best the doctor this Wedensday, you're gravely mistaken. I've never been a stepping stone for anyone and YOU certainly aren't a stepping stone for the doctor. You're hardly a speedbump, to be honest, man. My tyraid around here never really quit. I just didn't show up for awhile. That's after I was Xtreme Champion longer than anyone, before my partner decided he wanted 666 briefcases. I held it, never lost it, cashed in a briefcase and was Universal Champion for a very, very long time. So for those that ridicule and pick on the good doctor for his absence, they're the one's just LOOKING for a reason to bring me down. The vacation was nice and I'm just as good as I ever was. Mister Chaoes, after a couple of weeks of some epic tag team action, I'm most certainly ready for some one on one sessions with my beloved patients."

Suddenly, the door to the tavern slams open and an even larger Irish man than Trevor stands in the doorway.

"Here he is!"

The fatter Irishman shouts!

"I knew you'd be in here you fat blubbering pile of shite! What the FUCK happened to my sheep you cocksucker?!"

"Oh, fuck.."

Trevor says as he looks over to Doc who vanished before he even looked.

"FUCK."

Before he knew it the place was being flooded with huge Irishmen. Six of them entered the tavern, grabbed him, and drug him outside while the big bastard stood by then followed. They throw Fat Trevor down in the dirt in the middle of the street and, like an old western, everyone in the street stopped and watched.

"What the FHUCK did you do to my sheep, ya bastahrd?!"

He kicks Fat Irish Trevor in the gut sending him rolling across the road. That guy was pretty strong, and whether Trevor was or not, he only knew he was fat and slow and that fucking hurt.

He gasped for air and with blurred vision looked across the road over to the meat stand. As dizzy and sick as he felt from that big blow to the stomach, he could have sworn he seen Doc standing there gnawing on a piece of raw hide hanging from a rope.

The big fat Irishman walks over to Trevor and kicks Trevor right in the ass just as he makes it to his knees sending him face down in the dirt again.

"I'll fhuckin' kill you!"

He pulls a knife from his belt and stands very aggressively towards Trevor before several whistles are blown from all over. Several authorities rush to the scene blowing high pitched whistles putting a stop to the nonsense.

"Now just hold on 'der, sir. What seems to be the problem?"

"The fhucker killed me sheep!"

The officer looks down at Trevor who's still trying to find his way to his feet.

"Dat true, lad?"

Trevor scrambles some more to get to his feet, managing to after several officers help him.

"It ain't true! I didn't kill no damn sheep!"

The now ANGRY other fat Irishman stomps towards Trevor.

"I left you with a simple FUCKIN' task and I found them all SLAUGHTERED while you were off raiding the fucking bar!"

Eyes are back on Trevor for a moment before the authority fellow speaks up.

"Now, now. Even if this fellow here did what ya said, we need to handle this in a civil manner, of course. Innocent to proven gu---"

The authority is cut off by the blaring sound of bagpipes in the distance. The asshole fat Irishman shoves a finger into his ear.

"What is that?!"

The sound only gets louder. Through the front gate of the town emerges Unknown Soldier playing the bagpipes, but this instrument is special. It's a giant ball sack with five penises for every piece. Unknown Soldier plays on and on at such a loud volume it causes the ground to shake and the sound to painfully pierce the ears of everyone all around. Soldier plays and plays until he reaches the center of the crowd and stops and watches as all the people in the market place fall to their knees in agony as the loud sound paralyzes them. Trevor is on the ground screaming in pain as well. Doc walks out and throws Trevor some earmuffs before he grabs him by the pant leg and starts dragging him away. Soldier marches along side the doctor playing the bagpipe along the way. The people in the village still crawl on the ground, holding their head and ears in agony, some even convulsing on the ground.

The doctor drags Trevor's fat worthless body over to a large wagon and tosses his body into it. The impact from Trevor's huge mass nearly buckles the cart, but it springs a few times and remains stable. Soldier climbs aboard as well and snaps the reigns of the horse in front of it as the doc jumps on the back as it goes by. The wagon slowly bounces it's way out of the small town and into the sunset.

"So as we ride off to my next session, I can't help but wonder what COULD have been. If Mister Chaos was just... THAT much better... He would be the Television Champion right now. That would make two champions in two straight shows that the doctor would have pinned. I look forward to see what you have to bring to the table though, my friend. I know all of you boys and girls were certainly fighting your little hearts out over that TV strap the other night, and the heartache, I'm sure, is hard to bare."

"Fear not, though, Mister Chaos. You've bounced back before, am I right? You've hit rock bottom. You've been in the gutter. You're more than capable of overcoming several consecutive losses. I mean, think of the circumstances! The title could have gone to anyone, in my opinion. In fact, Kit Kennedy is running around the entire XWF getting people to sign a damn petition because of some mishap while he was pinning you. What do you think about all that? Do you believe YOU are entitled to a rematch for that title, as well? Kitt Kennedy believes he wasn't pinned to be eliminated from the match. Do you have any grounds or a leg to stand on in your case?"

"I'll be honest, I never caught up with Mister Kennedy to sign his little petition. Unlike a lot of fellows around here, I tend to stick to my own affairs. Mister Chaos, I hope you're quite proud to be in the position you're in right now. From losing a title match to facing the most dominant being to ever grace the XWF UNIVERSE. Don't take this too hard, Mister Chaos, you're not the first person to be tossed to the wolves and you won't be the last."