I heard that I'm going to fight one of the members from the Underground, all of whom think that they've been wronged in one form or another. And who seems to have been wronged enough to face me? The Prince of Perfection, that's who. Why he calls himself a prince instead of a king, I have no idea. Maybe his dad is still alive or his self confidence is super fucking low, but I really just want to focus on his hideous face that I have a chance to drown in eggnog. Hell, I would've drowned him in any sort of liquid, but eggnog will have to do, I guess. Christmas and whatever.

From what very, very little I've seen from you, you've been quite a bad boy. I mean look at you, teaming up with the biggest in the building in order to give your career some sort of edge, beating your bodyguard until he cries...well I do that too.

Hey, I'm not ]

[color=#FFDAB9][i]You willingly volunteered to keep watch of me, a man who constantly fights people for the sake of achieving pleasure...and yet you wanted to stop me from doing that because you wanted to please your dad.

Now what's wrong with that?

Unless you have a death wish, everything. Now get out of here before I consider dunking you in that same eggnog I'll be drowning Swann in not too long from now.

Now why didn't you bring me along for you match against Mastermind? I could have helped if you would've let me follow.

You're a fucking cop. Cops only get in the fucking way of what I want to do. It's not so different in this case either. Unless you want to help me beat Armani, get the fuck out now because I don't feel like wasting time talking to you.

{Beat}

You know, don't take me walking out as a sign of me not wanting to help you, because I really do want you to ease up.

That's exactly what the boys back at Georgia said. Either stay and shut up or get the fuck out of the narrator's space.

{Footsteps can be heard}

Alright, now that he's out of the room, I can choose some fitting music to drown out the sound of my voice, especially since none of you seem to appreciate it. I've been on a Tool binge recently, so I thought I could use some of their music to drown out my drone and dribble.


Damn, it's been a while since I celebrated Christmas. The last time I did was back in Georgia, and it was only briefly mentioned by one of the security guards because we weren't allowed to have calendars because of those nails. They were afraid that it was a weapon, so they made sure that there were none hanging around in the walls and whatever. To be honest, I can't really see why. They were already dealing with people that tried to kill each other on a constant basis, I don't see why they'd get rid of one of the things that would make their jobs easier, but I'm nothing but a prisoner myself, so my opinion doesn't really matter.

Some jackass by the name of Maverick decided to make Christmas come early this year by having me face another, even worse jackass, who I'll call Armani because he never seems to wear anything other than those fucking suits. Even if I don't beat him, which is a fucking long shot, I still have a chance in that gauntlet, where I can use whatever the fuck I want to in order to take everyone out. That, and I don't have to worry about Quinn trying to confiscate whatever I touch, so it's also a big bonus for me. Either way, Armani has no chance of walking out of this place fully conscious.

He's seen what I did to trenchcoat. He should know that I'm capable of pulling off shit like that on him, if not, even worse things.You have to a lot in order to deserve being called perfect. I don't think you've reached it quite yet, but again, I'm nothing but a lonely prisoner that's been secluded from the outside world for quite a long time, does my opinion really matter?

Yes, it does.

I've been around hotshots before I even read your name on the card, and not a damn one of them were any different from you. Many thought that they were the biggest, baddest, most dominant breeds of people around, only to get their ass handed to them by the likes of Bubba, Razor, and Cuddles. Only one of them is fat, and it's not Cuddles or Bubba. Don't buy in to the fucking stereotypes, jackass. Anyways, after being taught a thing or two about who their superiors are and where they belong in that hellhole, they shut up and never tried to assert themselves like the bitches they were. I can't wait to put you in your place, just like I did to trenchcoat bitching about how tough it is on the streets, as if I didn't know that already. Spoiled assholes like him deserve the beat down I gave him.

Come to think of it, you're no different from trenchcoat in terms of how spoiled you are. I can see why Gnat put you against me now, he wants you to be silenced. He wants you to face me and find out what it's like to face someone truly out of your league. I can assure you that you've never fought anyone like me because you were too afraid to fight anybody like me. Come on, it's the holidays, ease up a little, will you?

Come to Cuddles.

He won't bite...much.

{Growls and chomping can be heard from the narrator's space. After a bit, laughter then can be heard.}

Geez Armani, you're just as pussyfooted as trenchcoat was. You didn't have the balls necessary to get your first word in, which is probably fitting since most of the suits you wear have your next generation huddled up there really tightly, and yet you think you're better than me because you have a prettier face, supposedly. Well we'll see if your pretty face can somehow keep you from drowning your sorrows with eggnog. Hell, you'll need to drown them out after I force you to drink that shit anyways. It's probably a week old by now.

You don't expect me to drink that shit, do you?

I know our food standards are low, but I wouldn't dare drink week old eggnog.

You'd have to kill me before I get to drink something like that. With Armani and his cronies, I don't think anything like that can be possible. Good luck trying, though.

Hell, good luck trying to beat me at all, you'll need it for the gauntlet match anyways. Oh not for beating me in there, no, for hoping that I'd be eliminated from the match before you come in. And if you come out before me...well, you'll still need it.

I don't want to be left with blue balls again.

Make me release it unto the world.

Make them know just what kind of monster I am.

Merry Christmas.