A simple declaration. One most everyone has said at least once in their lives. Vague enough to be about anything at all; from extremes like murder and theft to more simple offenses like lying or the opposite; being honest. Though the irony of someone telling themself that you did what you had to do or any of the derivatives thereof to justify brutal honesty is, of course, the fact that it isn't true. That in and of itself is almost always a blatant lie. However, to a chronic and some would say compulsive liar, this one specific alteration to reality can become the most powerful at their disposal when it comes to manipulating people. This phrase, when spoken the right way, with the correct phony emotion thrown into it can make most people putty in the hands of the manipulator. However, likewise when done poorly it can be utterly unbelievable.

Luckily, it's very hard to do poorly and the reason for that is simple: it's the one lie that every person in the world has made themselves believe at least once.

Now, let's move back a few paces to see how this specific phrase fits in to the world of Richard Weston Kielich; liar, thief, scoundrel, and now professional wrestler.

"Read 'em and weep bitches; Full House! Tens over Queens!"

That was the prematurely over ecstatic voice of Dakota Fry, a waifish man of pale complexion whose emo fringed dyed black hair and clean shaven face perfectly masked the fact that he was in his mid thirties. He flipped his two cards face up on the green felt table with a wide, crooked grin and scanned the entire room around him without changing the face once. The room in question being the basement of the house that either belonged to someone in the group or one of their fathers; wooden walls and a stone floor, mostly empty sans the table where the whole group was seated at in the far left corner of the room and the billiards table in the center. However, the real stars of the show were of course the guests. Aside from Fry, there were two older gentlemen, whose names neither Richard nor Indigo caught and the dealer whose pencil mustache and still ongoing acne dated him at 18 tops. Odds are the place belonged to his father and he was being put to use instead of being kicked out.

"I wouldn't be so sure of yourself kid," began the wise old voice of one of the nameless gentlemen occupying the seat next to Fry's, "the redhead's been on a lucky streak."

And he wasn't wrong. Not on the surface, anyway. The last four hands had all gone to Indigo; a fact that was reflected in the size of her chip pile which dwarfed all others. Richard, seated on the opposite side of the man simply chuckled and beamed before leaning over to the man and saying in a half whisper loud enough for everyone around to hear: "Taught her everything she knows."

The old man's eyes darted from Richard's face to his chip pile; the smallest of the group.

"Yeah, right," he said with a laugh.

Then again, Richard wasn't lying. A surprise and a very sudden change of pace but accurate nonetheless. Earlier on in the night, just as the game began she flashed a winning smile and exchanged some flirtatious comments with the dealer, distracting him long enough for her to sneak one of the cards out of the desk and slide it up the sleeve of her jacket. Meanwhile, Richard had distracted the rest of the group with a story filled with lies and deceit, though as per the usual, they were none the wiser.

Cheating aside, she was definitely favored by the luck of the draw so far and hadn't even needed to use the card up her sleeve yet. However, in order to win this hand she would have to. So, she tried a slight of hand trick she'd almost seen Richard do at least a hundred times prior in order to replace the useless Four of Hearts in her hand with the Ace of Clubs up her sleeve.

The problem in doing something this delicate for the first time in an environment such as this, is that there's almost no chance at success. As was the case with Indigo's attempt. The Ace fell out of her sleeve and face up onto the table where the two cards she was dealt still lay face down.

And boy was her face red.

"Um, I can explain..." she began before her own inability to find the words cut her off. Swallowing hard, she caught the brunt of the shocked and almost betrayed reactions from the older gentlemen and dealer. Richard simply shook his head in disappointment and Dakota?

Dakota was utterly furious.

His face grew a bright red; brighter than Indigo's and his hands balled into fists that he used to slam into the felt tabletop and scatter the chips around all over the place. With a long and exasperated sigh that turned into what could only be described as a monstrous roar, he lunged across the table at her. An attempt at vengeance that might've worked if the table could hold that much weight at once. Instead, the legs of the table snapped and he fell to the ground with the top, cards, and chips at the dead center. Conveniently enough right where Richard was sitting. On impulse, he reared his foot back and caught Fry right in the ribs before backing away; the two older men turning to look at him.

"So, I guess this means we can't cash out?" asked Richard to the Dealer who was the first to come off his shock.

"No."

"Well, it was worth a shot. We should really get going now; thanks for having us and I hope the table gets fixed up soon!"

With that, Richard and Indigo turned to make their getaway up the stairs leading out of the basement. Not before the last words they heard from Dakota Fry pierced their ears that is.

"If I ever see you two again, I'll kill ya!"

Remember that, because it becomes important later. How much later?

Try two days later.

Yes, two days after a miserable failure at hustling mostly honest people out of poker money, the pair were right back on the conman grind. Their next adventure, if you could call it that, was much more successful as they sold a nonfunctioning home security system to a naive but extremely wealthy pair of retirees for an absurd price. However, it wasn't until after they had put a few blocks between them and the duped denizens that they once again saw the man, the myth, the legend; Dakota Fry.

Sitting at a red light at four way intersection which just so happened to be on the opposite side of the same rode that they were doing the same thing for. So, without a word Indigo, the one who had noticed the identity of the man not paying attention to them at all popped open the glove compartment where Richard left a Colt .45, grabbed it, released the safety and cocked the gun, rolled down the window and leaned out of it into the night.

"The hell are you doing?"

Then, she opened fire on the car. She pulled the trigger until no more bullets came out and she fell back into her seat, eyes welling up with tears. By that time their light had turned green and Richard sped off into the night hoping that no one could form a solid eyewitness account, which as luck would have it no one could as there was no one on the road and the singular car that was driving down the street with the green light had already passed before she opened fire. As they passed by Fry's car, they could see that several of the bullets had indeed struck him and he would be dead before the first responders came. With the gun still smoking in her lap and the urge to burst out in tears completely overwhelming her, Indigo began to sob loudly, burying her face in her hands.

"What the Hell did you do that for?" Richard demanded as he continued driving over the speed limit to put as much distance between them and the new crime scene as possible.