HOBOTOWN, USA




"YOU'RE PATHETIC!"


Micheal just laid in his tent as Young Gravy peered in, shaking his head with a disappointed glare. 


"It was bad enough that stole our fucking main event slot last Savage without any repercussions, but then you just let him get away with costing us the TV title! The fuck is wrong with you!?"


Graves continues to lay there staring blankly at the roof of his tent.


"Bah!" Young Gravy violently swats the curtain closed and begins to pace outside the tent. "If you're fucking done, just be done! Just go step out in traffic and end this shit once and for all!"


"You know that wouldn't end anything..."


Young Gravy pivots back to face the tent and screams; "EXACTLY! You don't get the fucking option of checking out! The docs took that shit away a long time ago! So man the fuck up and let's remove Flynn's skin with a fucking butter knife!" 


"Too predictable."


The notion of Micheal Graves applying any sort of strategy seems to shock even his projected twin. "HUH!?" Young Gravy peels back the door to the tent with confusion all over his face. "The fuck you mean, too predictable? Since when has that mattered!?"


Gravy flicks his wrist, producing his imaginary youthful self with a printout from the public library. "Since this."


Defying all logic and physics, the younger Gravy unfolds the paper while asking; "The fuck is this?" Only to quickly find his answer written on the page.


"Congratulations, you have been selected to challenge for the Universal Championship at Bad Medicine..." Young Gravy eyeballs Old Gravy who's still laying in his tent and staring at the holes above. "This legit?"


"Seems to be."


Young Gravy skims the email some more. "Holy shit! That payday!" He exclaims in excitement!


"Check the bonus if I win..."


"50-fucking-K!>?" His eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. "What's the problem!? This is exactly what we wanted, just without busting the heads of an endless line of green goons to get it!"


Young Gravy had a point. Micheal's original plan to earn his shot at the Universal Championship called for him to defend the his newly acquired Television Championship enough times to trade the championship in, but this path was indeed much more | "Optimal" | was the only word Gravy uttered, but Young Gravy knew exactly what he was getting at.  


"Oh..."


There was a shared silence between them. 


"The bigger the adversity, the bigger the prize. Flynn cost me the TV championship, and now I'm challenging for the top prize at the final Pay-Per-View event of the year."


Young Gravy tried to brush off his concerns. "So Mark's bullshit isn't bullshit. So what? Let's go kick his ass!"


Gravy finally shows some vigar as he rises from his tent like The Undertaker! "DON'T YOU SEE!? IT'S NOT THAT SIMPLE!"


"Sure it is! What's he got on ya!? Better wrestler? So what, who isn't? Better talker? So what, who isn't!? Better looking, NO WAY! But those other two things, ain't many who can say otherwise, doesn't mean they don't squeal for mercy when you catch'em just right! Anyone can be beat Mikey! We do it all the time, both ways~!"


"NO! This ain't gonna be a normal fight! Marks got that Optimal black magic working his favor! That means me even getting this shot the way I did just fucked me royally! Adversity is the key to victory! Not being handed shit for nothing! Mark cost me the belt, but I still lost it! I should be at the back of the line, not the top of the ladder! This is HIS mojo working to fuck me! He's been working me all along!"


The two shared a silence once more as they both racked their singular brain for an answer to this puzzle that was The Optimal Path. 


"There's only one shot. I must reverse my momentum going into this match!"


Young Gravy seemed confused by the concept. "You need to what, now!?"


"If I'm to stand a chance against this Optimal Path, I need to play by its rules. Suffering through adversity makes you stronger. I can suffer with the best of them, but so can Flynn. We can't let him rack up any more power and we need to get all the bad juju we possibly can between now and then!"


Gravy rocketed to his feet and charged through tent city like a man on a mission! "Officer Butt-Fuck!"


Indeed, there was a policeman nearby apparently patrolling the mean streets of Hobotown. He was in the middle of questioning some meth girl about something and didn't seem too thrilled by Gravy's interruption, so of course Gravy pressed on.


"Yo, TYRANT! Why don't you leave the bitch alone and drag your sorry ass out of here! This is fucking HOBOTOWN and your authority ain't shit here!"


Gravy now within 20 feet and approaching quick, the officer had seemed to have enough. "Sir, you need to stay back before I charge you with interfering in a police investigation!"


Gravy didn't miss a beat. "You can't charge me shit! I done told you-"


"HANDS UP AND ON THE GROUND!"


"FOR WHAT!? YOU HAVE NO AUTHORITY HERE!"


Taser drawn and aimed squarely at Gravy, the officer offered him one final warning. "DOWN ON THE GROUND, NOW!"


Gravy stopped just under ten feet shy of the officer and with a smirk he replied; "No..."