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Doctor Louis D'Ville · **04-28-2015, 06:03 AM**

"It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it."

â€• Aristotle

You missed your mark . . .

Where were we . . . ?

The blast was so intense that that the windows from a few vehicles parked outside shattered instantaneously. The fire spread quickly across the roof top and thick black smoke poured into the sky. This beautiful day surrounded by blue skies disappeared as smoke lied thick like a blanket across it. Eventually, the sun was completely blacked out and cast a dark shadow across the land.

The initial blast caused the most damage, but was followed by several other little blasts from other stockpiles of fuel left in different parts of the building. The area is so far off on it's own, anyone around the area who may have heart the blast would still have no idea where it could have came from. No firetrucks, no rescue. The fire will, soon enough, gobble up this place until there is nothing left.

The television screen that showed the fiery blaze clicked off and the Doctor stood up. As he walked over to the corner to pour himself a scotch, the television clicked back on and was showing Monday Night Madness. The end of the Kirk MacClay, or actually, the Sean Falcon Classic. Mastermind did well for himself, reaching the final phase of the series of matches. Once again, of course, he showed no true presence in either three of the matches. The first phase being a battle royal, the second a six-man tag, the third being a Triple Threat, where he was pinned by both Morbid Angel and the Aerial Knight.

The Doctor watched on and snickered at the small segment after the match. Mastermind was made a fool of and it will surely fuel him for his next match against the Doctor.

Will it?

Hello, my friends.

Mastermind, Mastermind.

You've once again out-did yourself. Do you see what happens when you begin stomping places that you don't belong? I understand you're basically thrown into these matches as of late, booked with no say in the matter. I get it. Let's look at the big picture here, my friend. You're on a losing streak that stretches back pretty far. Winless this year. Here you are in a Universal Title Match, preceeded by other title shots. Don't misconstrue what I'm throwing out here either, Mastermind. I'm behind you getting the shot. You deserve it as much as the next guy does, my friend. I just think you're still way too far out of your league. You're taking the chance of the Doctor making a mistake? Are you mad? Out of twenty-seven sessions I've made one mistake. It was waiting a second too long to kick out. Now if you're going to roll the dice and wait for me, your King, to screw up . . . Well, don't hold your breathe. That's not a very good strategy, Mastermind. I think you should sit down with your good side . . . Or your bad side, whichever you are that day, and come up with something a little more advantacious than that.

Your mercurial attitude is what's going to kill you here. You're still looking behind you, thinking you're a changed man. I DO know you, Mastermind. Did I know that you were going to undermine my secret mind-controlling powers and slip out of my grasp?

I think you're thinking way too far into this.

Mind control? Don't be so naive. All I told you to do was open a door in your head that you've kept shut for however long. You did that and the only thing that's changed is you treat people like crap. You still walk the same, you still fight the same, and, for the most part, you still talk the same. Let's get over this little tassle inside your head, Mastermind, and get down to business here.

I have to agree with you on a few points that you made. One, even through your several, several losses as of late, you DID fight Mister Loverboy. I suppose you did pose a certain degree of challenge for him, so good for you. Not thanking a comrade for his efforts IS rude, Mastermind, and I DO most definitely apologize. A wasted effort on your part, perhaps, but a job well done.

There's your pat on the back, Mastermind. I didn't realize when I asked you to join my ranks that you were as needy as you are. Much like a little dog that begs for attention. Accomplishes one small deed, that should be done regardless, and expects to be praised for his accomplishments or deeds. Mastermind, Mister Harrison was the man behind the mask of Hysteria. He accomplished more for the Asylum than anyone has and ever will. He deserves more praise than anyone. Has he ever insisted a 'thank-you'? He hasn't. Has he ever received one? He hasn't. Because this isn't primary school, Mastermind. Not everyone gets a prize. This isn't a place of celebrations. When I beat you Wednesday, for the second time, there will be no celebrating. I will remain standing before you as you begin to come-to. You have a simple choice, Mastermind. You could either pick your head up and turn your back on the ONE thing that you have going for you. Or you could remain on your knees, and bow to your King.

Completely up to you. A choice for you and you alone.

If you choose to walk away, will it be the end of our long frienship? Of course not, Mastermind. Nothing will tear the bond that we've created. Maria, as well. She will never forget the Doctor and I'm sure, deep within, she's glad we met. So never fear, the Doctor will always be here.

If you choose to stay with the Asylum. Then we can go back to things as if this little battle never happened, Mastermind. You will continue being a general in my army. I will continue to reign over the XWF.

Now. Not a care in the world which one you choose, but I like the second one better. There's not true penalty to anyone but yourself if you choose to to walk away, Mastermind. Turning your back on someone like me is the worst possible thing you could do. You need me right now. You're in such a crisis of 'what's good and what's bad' that you have NO clue how to handle yourself now. You're so confused on how you should talk now that my head spins in circles trying to keep up with you. The lack of respect you claim that I gave you is also another show that your goofy little brain presented to you. I apologize if you're KING crossed the line by asking you to make himself present at THAT moment. You have jets at your own disposal and with a job like this it takes immediate action. So what was the big deal? Are you taking pleasure over business, Mister Mastermind? That doesn't seem like you. Or is it that you don't like being told what to do? I think you knew the grounds of your rank when you signed up for this, my friend. If you have an arguement on who's in charge around here, talk to Frodo and he'll point you in the right direction. I didn't realize when I recruited the Master of Minds that I actually recruited the Master of Nothing. You can't even master your own mind, what makes you think you can master anyone else's? That shirt that Morbid Angel gave you fits you perfectly, by the way. And I don't mean how it looks on you.

The last thing that's really on my mind, Mastermind is my weaknesses. You talk over and over again about fighting my weaknesses, exploiting my weaknesses, beating me by using my weaknesses . . . What are these weaknesses? If you know something I'm sure there's a few folks in the XWF that would pay good money for the information you're storing.

Weaknesses. Have you lost your mind?

What are you weaknesses, Mastermind? Why don't you rattle a few of them off to us. You kick yourself in this gut and mark a tally in the wall every time you lose. Then, you move onto the next event and do it all over again. After a year of this stuff you'd think someone would give you a little guidance other than myself. It's sad to see you like this, my friend. A man that puts everything into his efforts in the XWF, only to fail day-in and day-out. I wish it was different for you, Mastermind, I most definitely do. And I most definitely tried bringing you to brighter horizons.

You just don't evolve.

You sit in your chair, you stare at a mirror, you think about your past. You then walk out into the world angry at no one but yourself. You wanted to forget about it for so long that you can't shake being just . . . Mastermind. And that's all you'll ever be. You're already etched into the history books, my friend. No worries. You've definitely been a staple in this organization. Long after you leave, I'm sure the name Mastermind will slip through the lips of competitors down the road.

Master of Nothing.

I do hope this serves as a good treatment for what currently ales you, Mastermind. Perhaps, it will take a bit more than me just talking some sense into you.

The Doctor finishes the glass of scotch that he's been slowly sipping between breathes. The television sat on a still image of Mastermind staring back at the Doctor, then flips to static.

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