Memory Lane
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"Resting is immensely powerful to ignite the glorious star within you. Power yourself by powering up your relaxing game."
-Hiral Nagda
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*Welcome back, True Believers! You know how most people placed in a perilous position probably prepare prior to practising pugilism? Pah! Not so with ya boi, the inimical, the intrinsical, the occasionally whimsical; The Omega Man, Jay Omega! See, Los Hombre Omeguloso is already as prepared as any mortal man can be. Moreso, actually, seeing as how this is his third life, essentially negating that pesky "mortal" bit. So he don't typically sweat small things like multi-man melee mix-ups, such as this one he's got coming up on the next Warfare.*

*MayDay.*

*MayDay? MAYDAY! MAYDAY! WE'RE GOING DOWN OFF THE COAST OF EAST DAKOTA! ENGINES ARE FAILING AND THE AIR BRAKES DO NOTHING! WE'VE TAKEN FIRE AND HAVE MULTIPLE CASUALTIES; WE NEED IMMEDIATE MEDI–*

*SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!*

*...*

*Go do something quietly over there; I'll handle this. I don't want to hear another word from you for the duration, or I'll make you sit through a ten hour loop of William Shatner doing a spoken word rendition of "Friday".**

*But it's already so bad, why would you–*

*Not. Another. Word.*

*...*

*Go. We fade in on a magnificent view–*

*And he aint just talking about Omega! Fuck! I couldn't resist. This is gonna suck.*

*FOOP!*

*We fade in on a magnificent view of a luxurious pool painstakingly crafted at great expense to look like a natural lagoon fed by a small waterfall; sparkling crystalline waters lapping at the carved stone cliff face in the background. Floating on a dark green inflatable tube, wearing only a pair of reflective Oakley shades and a pair of black swim trunks with the letters "C.S." monogrammed at the hem in thread-of-gold, is Jay Omega.*

JAY OMEGA: What the haps, peeps? Jay Omega here, one half of future Tag Team Champions, Guardians Protection Services; no matter where you're going, the G.P.S. will get you there. We're, uh, still working on our slogan.

*Jay gives a half shrug with an expression that says "what are ya gonna do?"*

JAY OMEGA: But I'm not making this video to talk about how awesome Alex and I are; this time it's all about the trash talk. Let's get right to it! Now of my four opponents, only two have had anything to say at all at the time of this recording. And of those two, only one said anything about me. As such, there won't be much need for refutin' and respondin'. In his two promos, the Tin Man devoted more air time to reminiscing about Country Roads than John Denver, and Tiberius has thus far remained silent. And when Tin Man finally opened his claptrap about me, he was so off the mark, I legit thought he was talking about someone else. The crack about lack of focus certainly fits me outside the ring, I'll give him that, but once that bell signals the start of the match, The Omega Man is all business.

*Omega reaches out toward a floating tray, and picks up a crystal tumbler half full of amber liquid.*

JAY OMEGA: Well, mostly business; I do take some small degree of pleasure in what I do. I do not, however, take pleasure in the rest of what Tin Man had to say about me; I have never pretended to be something I'm not, aside from all the times I've pretended to be my opponents in order to mock them.

*Jay takes a sip from the glass, then switches hands so he can retrieve the tray before it floats out of his reach.*

JAY OMEGA: I strongly considered doing just that with Tin Man, but considering his slipshod programming was jumbled together by a team of handicapped monkeys, I imagine that would have confused his poor logic circuits something awful. And while some people would jump at the opportunity to short circuit such a massive opponent before a contendership match, I ain't some people. Nah, I'm Jay Omega; the odds-on favourite to win. And call me crazy, but I'm actually looking forward to mixing it up with that giant man of iron.

*Omega takes another sip of his drink, then sets the tray back on the water, and the tumbler back on the tray.*

JAY OMEGA: Reggie Estrada, on the other hand… What can I even say? Dude shit on himself way harder than I was planning to, and I wasn't exactly gonna take it easy on him, ya feel me? By his own admission, Estrada has given up before the bell has even rung, and by their silence, Tiberius and McBride have pretty much said the same thing. Just like last year, when I won the chance to face Corey Smith for the Supercontinental Championship, this five-man match really comes down to just two. And just like last year, I'm gonna be the one standing tall at the end of the night.

MALE VOICE(off screen): What the Hell are you doing in my pool?!? How did you even get in here?

JAY OMEGA: Dude! There you are! May the Fourth be with you! Anyway, I couldn't find you after I bypassed your weaksauce security system, so I figured I'd take a dip while I waited. Say hi to the True Believers!

*Jay motions at the camera, which obediently pans around to reveal a very non-plussed Corey Smith.*

COREY SMITH: Are those my trunks?

*The shot pivots back to Omega, who has the good grace to look at least a little embarrassed.*

JAY OMEGA: Yeah, well, I didn't bring a suit, and I figured you wouldn't mind. They're a little snug in the crotch, though.

COREY SMITH(off screen): Get out of the pool, Jay!

*The Omega Man raises his hands defensively, then makes the universal "cut" motion to the camera. The scene then fades to black.*

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"What can ever equal the memory of being young together?"
-Michael Stein
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~After Jay Omega had apologized to Corey Smith for breaking into the compound, and had changed back into his own clothing, Corey had agreed to giving Jay a tour. Nearly twenty minutes had elapsed as they meandered through the estate, with Omega acting suitably impressed at the various displays of wealth. They had only covered roughly two thirds of the first floor, chatting amicably about the last time they had hung out together.

  "...And I was just about to suggest some fun," Jay was saying as they entered an opulent home theater; comfortable looking lounge beds sunk into velvet flooring facing an angled screen easily fifteen feet in size, "When all Hell broke loose, thanks to your inappropriate comments."

  "Hey, you're the one who gave me a janky translator," Corey reminded him with a wry twist of his mouth, "I was just trying to order a glass of water after you ditched me!"

  "I didn't ditch you," said Omega, mildly offended, "I was hitting on a Jedarran cat girl on the other side of the bar. I had almost talked her into a threesome when the shooting started. You handle a piece pretty good, by the way; where'd you learn to shoot?"

  "Leftovers from Lux," Smith said in a quiet voice, "It's not something I like to talk about."

  "Fair enough," Jay replied with a casual shrug, then reached into his pocket for his joint case, "I've my own ghosts kicking around in my head. Now, I know you'll pass if I offer you some, but do you mind if I burn one?"

  "Actually, yeah, I do mind," said Corey firmly, "It's one of the house rules; no drug use in the compound, for anyone."

  "Anybody else, and I'd argue the point," Omega stated as he put the case away unopened, "But for you, I'll make an exception, and not just because you totally saved my ass when that Verdegrude merc got the drop on us."

  "No, really, it was nothing," Corey demurred, "It was more panic than anything else."

  "Hey, dont sell yourself short, man," Jay said, clapping a hand on Corey's shoulder, "Ice cold killer, Corey Smith; shooting alien motherfuckers in the dick like nobody's business!"

  "What? No I didn't!" declared Smith in surprise, "I shot him in the chest; I was aiming for the heart!"

  "Ha! The heart, he says!" Omega chortled, "Arrogant of you to assume every species has their junk in the same place you do; Verdegrudes give the phrase 'bumping uglies' a whole new meaning."

  "Gross," Corey said with a shiver of revulsion, recalling the alien mercenary's grotesque appearance, "Let's talk about something else. Are you looking forward to your match on Saturday?"

  "Yes and no," Jay said, waggling his hand in a so-so manner, "Duking it out with RoboGravy is probably gonna be a fun time, but I ain't sweating Estrada, Tiberius, or McBride."

  "It's never a good idea to overlook your opponents, Jay" Smith admonished, "You're the only guy in this match who hasn't won an XWF title."

  "Oh, please!" Omega said with a derisive snort, "Have you seen any of their promos leading up to MayDay? Hot garbage, all of it. But speaking of promos, ain't you taking on Alias this weekend? Why ain't you put up any videos yet?"

  "I will," Corey assured him, before his voice got quiet again, "I've just been… busy, is all."

  "Busy, eh? With Pan?" The Omega Man asked, nudging Corey in the ribs with an elbow, "How is everyone's favourite eternal twink?"

  "Yeah, that's also something I'm not discussing with you," Smith stated with an air of finality, then led his uninvited guest from the room, "Let's keep the tour moving; just wait until you see my gaming lounge!"

  "I'm sure it's epic and all, judging from the rest of your pad," Jay began with a hint of amusement, "But I guarantee it ain't shit compared to my gaming setup."

  "I don't know, man," Corey said in a tone of uncertainty, "I've got the latest virtual reality setup; it's really immersive."

  "That's cool," Omega said casually, "But I'm rocking augmented reality; full-on hardlight projections that literally put you in the game. You haven't played Call of Duty until you're actually sprinting around the map, lugging a full-weight assault rifle. You want immersion? Come visit me on the Khybaris some time; my hologym will blow your mind."

  "You know, I might take you up on that some time," Smith answered thoughtfully, "We didn't get a chance to check it out last year, being too busy dealing with those bounty hunters who were after you."

  "I did most of the fighting once we got off the station," Jay said, then smiled and teasingly added, "You were busy thinking happy thoughts with Pa–"

  "I said I don't want to talk about that, Jay" said Corey with a touch of heat in his voice and a hard glint in his eye, "Don't make me say it again; I don't like it when people get pushy."

  "Okay, chill, dude," replied Omega, eyeing his host warily, "Shit, I didn't mean nothing by it, just a little ribbing among friends."

  "This is only the second time we've hung out," Smith reminded The Omega Man, "And you dropped by unannounced, then broke in, went through my clothes, and used my pool without asking; you're lucky I gave you a tour instead of kicking your ass. Again."

  Jay conceded the point, apologized again, and allowed Corey to lead him through the rest of the compound; with Smith detailing the history of various trinkets and portraits, reminiscing about moments that had transpired throughout his home, and Omega soaking in the information, and asking pertinent questions. At the end of the tour, Jay thanked Corey for his hospitality, then extended a standing invitation for Smith to visit the Khybaris before he took his leave. All in all, it had been a good day.~