Sometimes it's hard to accept the inevitable. Time creeps up on us faster than we'd ever seen it coming. Those winds of change can sweep in and change an entire landscape in the mere blink of an eye. Every road comes to an end and that final stretch can be a very unstable experience.
Sometimes it's just too much to handle.
Mister Mystery 17 31707 1 sits alone in a dark room, dazed and dreary looking. He's leaning back on a couch and staring at a television that has only white fuzz and static coming from it. Some flies are circling the area he is sitting and appear to be feeding off of some old hamburger that Mister Mystery has on a plate next to him. His clothes are dirtier than usual and his mask is completely filthy; not only is it blood stained (just the way Sebastian likes it) but it's also caked in mud and possibly even shit but the camera isn't getting close enough to distinguish that.
An orange and white cat enters the room and hops up on the couch; opposite side of where the hamburger is. The cat sniffs around and paws at the cushion of the couch a little before taking position and squeezing a fresh log of crap out of its ass. Mister Mystery finally realizes what's happening right next to him and he swats at the nasty feline-
::::MM 17 31707 1:::: No! Not again!
Mystery cracks the cat right in the ass and sends it flying across the room. He looks next to him on the couch and sees the cat shit so he grabs it in his fist and whips it across the room at the perpetrator -- and score! -- he nails the cat right in the side of its head with its own lump of shit.
::::MM 17 31707 1:::: Now remember that, Bryce! Don't show your face around here again or it will just be smacked with your own shit.
The cat scurries off and is out of sight in no time flat. It's starting to become obvious that we aren't in the Feder household like most times we see Mister Mystery but instead are inside of some run down, nearly empty apartment. Remnants of food litter the floor and garbage is just thrown all over the room. Mister Mystery lets out a heavy sigh and leans forward with his head down in his hands. A rat can be seen creeping along the wall and Mister Mystery grabs a phonebook from on the floor next to him and whips it across the room at the rat.
::::MM 17 31707 1:::: Not another one of you sneaky Crimson Knights! I'll kill every last one of you!
Mystery raises his clenched fist into the air as he shouts at the critter that he completely missed with the phonebook. The rat disappears around the corner of the doorway -- another lucky break for that filthy, sneaky Knight. Mystery leans back in the couch and looks at the camera, shaking his head in disgust.
::::MM 17 31707 1:::: You see this shit? Can you believe this? They're walking all over me -- me; Mister Mystery 17 31707 1.
He takes the plate next to him that has some hamburger left on it and he flings it across the room. The plate shatters and the remaining bits of that burger fly every which way. It doesn't take long for the roaches to come out of the woodwork and find the waiting meal.
::::MM 17 31707 1:::: Would you look at that -- the Vypers and Cobras are everywhere this week. We really need an exterminator around here, don't we? Every last, worthless piece of shit you can imagine is creeping out of the shadows to try and snatch up anything they can get their claws on. How ideal that my living conditions have been matched up with the conditions that the XWF has put in place for me to deal with. I mean, Bryce? Is he truly in this match for the Tag Team Titles or am I just suffering from the effects of the lightning storm brewing inside of my body? I feel like I should have so much to say right now-
-so much to say about Zayne Vyper's incredible decision making skills in agreeing to be teamed with Bryce of all people. Oh, how I could go on and on about that. Welcome to the XWF, buddy.
-so much to say about the merging of mediocrity that brought us the genius name "Crimson Knights" -- oh, what a gem.
-so much to say about how Peter Gilmour alone could successfully defend our titles against all these guys, so imagine what a blood bath it's going to be when I march out to the ring with him and we slaughter these pests.
-and could you imagine if I started taking quotes from the recent comments these poor fucking saps have made? Oh my god. They've given up so much to me and they don't even know it.
That's the thing though -- I should have so much to say about all of that.
And yet-
Mystery drops his head and lets out another long sigh. He begins to shake his head very slowly.
::::MM 17 31707 1:::: I have nothing to even say and they've made it so, so easy for me this time. Just viewing a promo by Zayne Vyper, Crimson Cobra or Knightmask fuels you with endless amounts of ammunition to use against them both physically and verbally. It's like Peter Gilmour and I won the fucking lottery; we couldn't have asked for an easier match while these four clowns get all riled up and anxious about their big shot. I should be able to spend hours talking about this shit and just verbally ass-raping these four young pricks before I step into the ring with them, but-
He hesitates and rests his head in his hands.
::::MM 17 31707 1:::: ...but-
He smacks himself in the side of the head.
::::MM 17 31707 1:::: ..but I've got nothin'! I guess my opponents just aren't worth it to me to really dig into because look at who they are again. Why am I even doing this anymore? I'm spent; I've been doing this goddamn shit for too goddamn long. Look at me -- I'm burnt to a fucking crisp over here. Sid was right..
Most men would not have survived the electrocution that Mister Mystery suffered during his match with Knightmask on Warfare. Most men wouldn't still be breathing, let alone preparing to enter a Tag Team Championship match at High Stakes this Saturday -- but sometimes just breathing isn't enough. Is there something.. missing now?
::::MM 17 31707 1:::: I had a hell of a run.
Mystery slowly pushes himself up off the couch and brushes some unidentified filth off of his clothing. He walks over to the windowsill and looks at both of his championship belts.
::::MM 17 31707 1:::: I'm a mother fucking XWF Tag Team Champion and I'm a mother fucking XWF Trio Tag Champion, even if the XWF is too slow and dysfunctional to ever put the XWF Trio Titles on their main website.
He reaches down and picks up his 24/7 briefcase. He wipes the front of it with his hand and gets it dirtier than it already was by doing so.
::::MM 17 31707 1:::: Ah, my shot at being "king of the mountain" as they say. Passed to me by Sid Feder who won it after winning the entire Lethal Lottery tournament last year. This briefcase; my key to being a triple champion instead of just a double champion.
With but a shrug he releases the briefcase and it bounces off the hardwood floor, knocking into the wall and finally landing on top of a roach.
::::MM 17 31707 1:::: Well as far as I'm concerned...... that roach is the new official holder of that briefcase now.
The sound of a pair of boots coming to a halt at the doorway.
Mister Mystery's eyes dart toward the source of the sound.
::::3 x Better Sid Feder:::: What the F U C K did you just say about that briefcase?
::::MM 17 31707 1:::: Sid!
::::3 x Better Sid Feder:::: That roach can have the briefcase? I had to go through hell and high water to win that thing. I really hope you snap the fuck out of this bullshit phase you've been in lately; losing to the likes of The Senator and Knightmask in consecutive showings. How pathetic; that's not the Mister Mystery we all know and love! Stop being a pussy and bring that raging beast out from deep within you -- unleash it on those four twat licks this Saturday and prove that the Feder name will always reign supreme.
Sid steps into the room as Mystery picks the briefcase up and flicks the squished roach off of it.
::::MM 17 31707 1:::: But you don't understand. I think you were right about it being time for us to switch roles again.
::::3 x Better Sid Feder:::: I'm not ready for that to happen yet and you need to defend those titles you've got in the meantime. When I'm ready to step in we've got to con the XWF and Shane into letting me take over as holder of those titles and briefcase so you don't have to just forfeit them all.
::::MM 17 31707 1:::: That shouldn't be too hard. Shane is an easy guy to manipulate if you clamp John Madison's head into a giant vice grip and start cranking. Shane will give you the world if it means saving his "king" in the process.
Sid nods as he walks over to where that hamburger landed earlier, kicking the pieces around a little, watching the various sized roaches and ants scatter in random directions.
::::3 x Better Sid Feder:::: Jesus, man -- how the fuck've you been living like this? All this just to avoid the media?
::::MM 17 31707 1:::: I convinced myself that for as long as I'm still on the XWF roster, I'm going to live in conditions that I find comparable to the current state of the XWF. I want to be completely fucking miserable as I wallow in my own filth so that if I get a chance to take a life in that ring, I'll just do it; I won't even give a fuck anymore. I've had one hell of a career as a whole and you know that because you saw most of it first hand, but this is my last run and it has come to an end. I want to go out like a piece of shit because that's what I feel like the XWF has become if guys like John Madison and Sebastian Duke have major championships here. I'll be honest with you, Sid -- I really feel like by this point in time the XWF should have just given me all of its major singles titles and its crown. Why am I defending gold that I've already proven I deserve and own? I should be receiving more and more and more just by having my name on the fucking XWF roster.
Sid's eyes widen as he looks at the camera for a second, unsure of how to react.
::::MM 17 31707 1:::: I've proven I'm the best -- by an alarming margin -- and yet I'm still being booked in matches that involve Bryce? This is all because I'm not a part of Shane 's Black Circle. If I would have joined up with him then I'm sure I'd be able to sit back and do absolutely nothing just like King Madison is doing for this Pay Per View. Why is there no King match? Why does it appear that the main event of this show is going to be Mr. Satellite taking on Sebastian Duke in a double title match? What about the fucking crown? I've come as far as I'm ever going to get in this blatantly biased organization and I've more than proven that I'm the dominant force nobody can stop. Not a single man in this company can measure up to me.
Sid's jaw is hanging in astonishment by this point as he gawks at Mister Mystery.
::::3 x Better Sid Feder:::: Holy shit have you got a 3 x Better ego. It's like you don't even acknowledge that you've lost your last two matches. Not only that but you claim nobody's got your number? Well to me it looks like The Senator has gotten over on you not once but twice; knocking you out of the Gauntlet City main event and getting another win over you on Monday Madness this month. Now you're heading into a match that involves Knightmask and he's the guy who just beat you on Warfare. What now; are you going to let him claim a second victory over you too? Why don't we just start a fucking club here? The "Who can beat Mister Mystery not once but twice" club! For fuck's sake, man! Why don't we go all out and make it a-
--wait for it--
-THREE times club? Maybe since my specialty is being three times better than the competition, your specialty can be getting beat by the same guys three times over!
As soon as Sid says that he takes a step back because he knows he's crossed a line. Mister Mystery cracks his knuckles and his neck twitches as he stares at Sid.
::::MM 17 31707 1:::: You..
He brings his hands up to the top of his head and screams; his voice muffled behind that mask as Sid watches him intently. Sid is ready for anything at this point-
-anything except Mister Mystery to rush toward the window, headbutt it, and begin trying to crawl through it and leap to his death -- they're on the 13th floor for fuck's sake!
::::3 x Better Sid Feder:::: What the fuck are you doing? Get back in here!
Sid grabs a hold of Mister Mystery and starts trying to pull him back in. Mystery is halfway out the window and screaming down at people walking by below.
::::MM 17 31707 1:::: I'm coming for you mother fuckers! Here I come! Here I come, you fucks!
With a few good tugs, Sid manages to pull Mystery back in and both of them collapse to the floor. They both breathe heavily as neither man tries to move or get up.
::::MM 17 31707 1:::: What the fuck am I doing, Sid? What the fuck's going on?
Sid remains on his back, on the floor, and wipes some sweat from his forehead and face.
::::3 x Better Sid Feder:::: Your emotions are getting the best of you but that's something you can work through. You're a legend in this business and the XWF is nothing more than a small notch in your belt; realize that but also realize you're not done yet. You and Peter Gilmour are going to violate those poor sons of bitches Saturday night when they come for those Tag Titles. You're going to bounce back from this short slump you've been in and you're going to shock the world again. Your recent losses to The Senator and to Knightmask were both in highly questionable singles matches; forgettable contests in which nothing was on the line and nothing mattered. Now you return to your realm -- the tag team environment. You've got this shit, Mystery; I'd bank on it.
The low rumbling of laughter emanating from deep within Mister Mystery gives off no clue as to his true thoughts. He sits up and rises fully as Sid continues to lay on the floor with that "fuck all" attitude written all over his face.
::::3 x Better Sid Feder:::: Just remember if it absolutely comes down to it we've got that backup plan. All it would take is one e-mail being sent..
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into letting me take over as holder of those titles and briefcase so you don't have to just forfeit them all.
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