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Ruben A. Mitchell · **01-31-2015, 07:24 PM**

I'm one of the few people who'll admit that I missed being inside a cell. People don't expect too much from you when you're behind bars. Arguments always end up leading to fights, everyone knows your name, or in this case, number, and you're either a suck up to the pigs or one with the dogs. It's much like an apartment complex that you'll never move out from. And, in some people's eyes, it's either a living hell or all they could ever want. The world is a cruel and unforgiving place, and your perspective on life will change when you come out. You viewed that lives were worth saving beforehand? Spend a week with us and you'll end up hating the fuckers that managed to get away with murder thanks to an insanity plea. Most of us know that several of those claims turn out to be bullshit and the man claimed to be schizophrenic to get out of a death sentence.

So, being caged somehow brings back feelings of dominance and power to a man like me while bringing dread and fear to everyone else, including Trenchcoat, who I'm fighting for the third fucking time because he has nothing better to do. Can't build up confidence until you face me again? Think you can beat me now that you trapped me in a cell and let your mother go? This isn't a fucking sports movie. The worst doesn't suddenly become the best after their demons are eliminated. Hollywood lies, you gullible bastard. Don't think your golden ending will come just because you dreamed that it would.

Fuck, I'm getting bored just mentioning you by name. I need some music to keep me awake. Warren Zevon might do the trick.

The song's slow, but definitely manageable.

Now that Trenchcoat is off to fix his daddy issues and whatnot, I'm free to insult him and his parents freely without consequence. You act like I should really care about what your life is like and how you label me and whatever. All I see is some man-child that's being babied by his woman. That's no way a man should act, not even a New Zealander like yourself. I expected you to be the bigger man, to power your way through your emotions like I did years ago. Instead, all I got to see was a grown man cry on someone's shoulders because they saw their mother in a nightmare. Not really demonstrating the attitude or the spirit of a fighter, ya know?

Man the fuck up, ya crybaby. It's pretty humiliating to watch a man cry about his dead mother at the old age of forty. You're fucking forty years old and you never accepted that mommy was gone? You make me sick, you know that? Unless you're the one who killed her and you really do suffer from schizophrenia, I can see no other reason why a man like yourself would still be shocked to think that your mother ain't with you. Am I stealing your past? I never stole anyone's identity. I forged my own to get into nightclubs and whatnot, but I never stole a damn thing about some fuckers life I don't care for. If anything, I'm mocking your past. I'm mocking you for being an over-dramatic jackass that seems to take every single word I utter to heart.

Ruben, aren't you acting a little harsh towards him?

The world is a harsh place, Quinn. At any moment everything can change right before your eyes before a coin is flipped.

But he's trying to get his life back on track, surely he's trying to make so-

He had thirty fucking years to change his life and he wasted them all by getting into fights with tribesmen and other Aussies. Face it Quinn, the man's a disgrace to himself and his family.

{A chuckle can be heard from Quinn.}

Reminds me of you, in some regards.

Hey, I tried to get back to my family, really, I did, but they saw me as a monster in their son's body. They shunned me, and as a result, I disowned them. If they didn't want me back in my life, I see no reason why I should acknowledge them any more than pissants.

There's still time to patch things up, you know. You don't have to hate your parents forever.

It's always black and white with him. He never thinks about that moral grey zone that comes with every action.

{Ruben sighs}

Well, what do you know? Trenchcoat now has some dirt on me. I bet he's going to take that dirt and use it to grow some weeds. That's all he seems to be good at producing. Maybe he's the reason why I have to pull out those weeds from Quinn's backyard all the time. The fucker sees a dandelion and blows on it when I'm not around doing that fucker's chores for him. Well, I won't have to put up with him and his weeds for too much longer. You see, come Wednesday, Trenchcoat is going to be in my territory. He's going to be trapped inside that cage with the convict of the ring with hardly any way of escaping. From the way I see it, There is no chance of escape when a man like me is in the ring. Hell, you're better off not trying to escape when you're trapped with me, because I'll just pull ya right back inside and give you the beat-down you deserve.

I've given my thoughts to you twice already, both with words and hands. But now? Now I'm going to show you all just why they call me Cuddles. My parents won't approve of me ass fucking some old fart trying to stay in the spotlight, but I know Rose will enjoy every second of watching you suffer, even if she isn't alive to see it. She was demented like that, and she wanted to see me brutally slaughter the poor bastard that was stuck with me. And let me tell you something, Trenchcoat. She enjoyed watching you getting slammed into the car window as much as she liked watching you get gang banged by me and three other men, including one man who claimed to have cut off his mother's head and nailed it onto a pike or something. I don't care what he did, the fucker's gone and I don't think he'll be back for a long while.

Are you sure I can be taken out that easily this time around?

Do you really think that you can beat the 'bully' after he's dominated you twice over, once by yourself and again with friends?

You just like making shit up and hoping that maybe, just maybe, we'll end up believing it. You already do, and your girlfriend might be doing so because she pities a man with an intelligence level like yours, but there's no way I'll end up believing in the lies you throw my way.

Welcome to the cage, Trenchcoat. Pull out an orange jumpsuit, because you're going to be here for a while.

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