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Doctor Louis D'Ville · (01-23-2017)

000

BIRDS OF A FEATHER

You know a meth house when you see one, or you could figure as much. The building has obviously been condemned for quite some time already. The windows are removed or shattered and replaced with wooden boards nailed to the frames. The screen door is hanging by one hinge and is missing most of the mesh screen. The front door is extremely damaged from, most likely, being kicked in over and over again. It's boarded together and sealed from the outside.

Inside, everything was left untouched. The dishes in the sink, the food on the table and counters, in the cabinets and refrigerator. Garbage was collected across the floor and most of the furniture was either misplaced or broken. Upstairs, in one of the bedrooms a mattress sits in he corner, with a candle the only source of light in the center of the room. On the mattress, sits our good doctor smoking one of his delicious cigars. Beside him, a motionless, pale, lifeless Unknown Soldier.

"Hope. There is nothing in this world that I love seeing more. The feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best. It's hilarious to watch. Our latest example is provided from my next patient, member of Havoc, Brandon Moore."

"Mister Moore, I do respect the fact you didn't just react with a line of excuses regarding your most recent shortcomings. You're full aware that you didn't have what it takes to get it done before, but seem to think if you try a little harder you'll have what it takes to beat me now. Hope. Glorious, most glorious hope. It's borderline pathetic, my friends. There was a little bit of groveling in there, a little bit of self pity, and so, so much hope..."

"Your friend, Ronnie Cage had a lot of that, too. I mean, his situation was slightly different from yours, but in a lot of ways it wasn't. You refer to our session as a 'Preview Bout' for the tag team defense coming up, well, my session with Mister Cage was kind of like that..... You'd best pray to your luckiest star it isn't, though. A preview of the single-most brutal ass beating you'll ever face in your life."

"You do have ONE reason for excitement, however... This is... What? Your fourth title shot in a month? You should be thrilled! I shined some light on that last time, am I right? And you have NO clue where these opportunities are coming from, right?! Now, I'm not sure about the others, but this Tag Team Title shot would be hardly earned by YOU, per se, because Bad Attitude most definitely earned their shot. This just means David Stone may just miss out on ALL of the fun, that is all."

Doc laughs to himself and shoves a motionless Unknown Soldier beside him. Soldier falls to his side and his head rests against the floor.

"You see, Mister Moore, you and your Havoc friends, you're birds of a feather. You're the same. I put you all in the same little ignorant, unknowing, green column. It doesn't matter whether it's you and Ronnie Cage, David Stone and Ronnie Cage, you and David Stone. None of you have hardly made an impact in this place, but have received endless opportunities. You see what Ronnie Cage is doing after I'm done ripping you to pieces tomorrow? He's fighting the Universal Champion. Non-titled, of course, but he has no business hanging around in that type of top echelon match. According to Paul Heyman, the official XWF Title Commissioner, Doctor Louis D'Ville is in the NUMBER ONE slot under the UNIVERSAL Championship. So what happens when you face the good doctor and get completely DESTROYED? Well, apparently that's good enough to be placed in a match against the top champ. There's something you can look forward too after I mop the floor with you and after Doctor SATAN! takes Havoc down ONE last time. You're absolutely right that the Powers-That-Be had a plan for this match. A planned assassination though? Don't be ridiculous. Mister Loverboy and I have had our trials against one another, but I doubt he has any intentions as dark as to take one of his biggest money makers out of commission for good. Loverboy seen an opportunity for me to show each and every one of you fellows what it's like to face some real competition around here. Thomas Nixon? Robbie Bourbon? Those two put together don't equal what I'm capable of Mister Moore. Any competiton you've faced in your entire career can't amount to the pain I'm going to introduce you to tomorrow night. Then next week, you'll find out what facing the greatest tag team to EVER grace this FINE federation is all about. Unknown Soldier may have been dormant since his Elimination Chamber match, but as you can see, he needs a little motivation. No worries though, I will handle it by that time. You'll be getting the full effects, boys. A former UNIVERSAL Champion, two of the longest reigning Xtreme Champions, and a double briefcase holder. THOSE are accomplishments, Mister Moore. Those accolades are what it's like to succeed around here. Not close calls. Not 'Awe, I almost had that one.' Negative. It's the wins. It's the titles. It's the blood you spill. I've spilled blood, my friend. I've spilled lots and lots of blood."

He takes a large puff from his cigar and stares down at his lifeless tag team partner lying beside him.

"Just to clear the smoke here, Mister Moore, I wasn't the one who coined the nickname 'Big Bad Wolf'. It was kind of brought up long ago when my status around here was a little more noticeable. Lately, I can understand if a few of you don't recognize what kind of threat I present. I have been kind of hanging back, enjoying the show, and defending my tag team gold here and there... The spotlight is shining in other places these days. Which is perfectly fine with the doctor. What you have to understand Mister Moore is... I AM KING. My true reign may be in the past and long before you ever walked through the curtain, but I earned that crown and I never, NEVER lost it. I am not dead. I am very alive. You can't argue with facts, my friend. All you can do is hope that I AM just blowing the smoke into these mirrors. All you can do is pray that I am just a little sheep in disguise. Look at my track record, my friend, it's going to take much more than a little hope to help you."

Doc rises up from the mattress and kicks the scattered drug paraphernalia across the floor. He looks down at Unknown Soldier, pale face... Well, more pale than usual, blue lips... Dead as a door nail. The doctor reaches down and grabs shoulder by his ankle and starts dragging him across and out of the room.

"It's cute that you're using the location of our session to compare our situation to one that happened over sixty-years ago, the assassination of the President of the United States, John Kennedy. I'm glad that light bulb clicked on in your head and you actually had something a little bit more interesting than telling me the story of the Three Little Pigs or Little Red Riding Hood. Ugh. You just sound ridiculous. We can all see the lack of confidence in your actions. We all hear the trembling in your voice. We all smell the fear. It's understandable, pal. Just know that you're not the first one to be caught in over their head. You're not the first one that ended up drowning right in front of my eyes. You won't be the last one that I press my boot against and push back down. It's what I do, Mister Moore. It's what I've always done. A patient of mine loses his or her place in this world.... I find it for them again. You compare what you're going to do to Lee Harvey Oswald? You claim that you're going to assassinate me? You claim you have what it take to take down a KING?"

He pauses for a moment and looks around. He's reached the end of the hallway where there's a closed door in front of him, which he leans forward and kicks open. The room glows bright red and makes it impossible to see inside at first. Once it tames a bit, it's realized that the room is on fire. Flames burn the carpet and the surrounding walls, every square foot except for a small path that leads to the center of the room where a small couch and desk occupy. It's Doc's office...

"I have plenty of faith in you gentlemen. I'm sure that your success in the XWF is right around the corner. Unfortunately though, the gold you seek is too far out of reach. As for you, Mister Moore? I'm always in for recreating history, except, I alter it. Reliving and reenacting is dull and boring to me, which is what makes this month of January such a drag for me. Three sessions in a row... All the same... All birds of a feather... With the same result each time. One down, two to go."

Doc pulls his lifeless tag team partner into his flaming office and disappears into the flames as the door slowly creaks closed behind them.

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