The sun shines bright on the streets of Detroit, as Neil Capra steps into a free clinic at the urging of his longtime friend Christine Arlo. The smell of disinfectant and sick people fill the air as Neil tries his hardest not to inhale the stench he finds unbearable as he walks up to the receptionist. The receptionist, lost in the magazine she's reading, doesn't notice him at first. Neil clears his throat loudly, and the receptionist nearly jumps out of her seat.

Receptionist: "Oh, sorry, how may I help you?

Neil: "I'd like to make an appointment with that psychiatrist who's doing pro bono work to make himself look better after that scandal he was involved in."

[pink]"Well then, Dr. Fitzgerald will be with you shortly, please take a seat."

Neil nods his head in a gesture of thanks, then walks by a group of sickly looking people, and takes a seat in a chair in the middle of the row of chairs on the left side of the waiting room. He glares at the wall directly in front of him, seemingly unaware of anything else in the room. One of the other patients walks awkwardly over to him, with a genuine look of concern on their face.

Patient: "Hey, you, what are you looking at?"

Neil: "An idiot."

"You're an ass, you know that? I just wanted to see if you were okay!"

"I don't care."

It is at this point when Dr. Fitzgerald is finally available. Neil stands up immediately upon hearing this news, wishing to avoid an altercation between himself and the other patient. He steps into the office to find a rather young looking man looking right at him. He begins to question his decision on letting Christine guilt him into getting a psyche evaluation, but now's too late to back out...

The office is dingy, paint peeling off the wall. It appears to be a room that on any other day would be used as just another office. The doctor motions, and Neil sits on the chair that fills up half of the room.

Fitzgerald: "Let's begin with your name, can you tell me your name?"

"Neil, Neil Capra."

"Alright Neil, Can you tell me why you're here?"

"I'm here because I was guilt tripped into doing this, so against my own will, just like you."

"Fair enough, why does the person who thinks you need help think you need help?"

"She says I'm having anger issues."

"Well, are there any examples of anger issues that you have noticed yourself?"

"That little comment I made at the beginning of our session could probably classify as said anger issues, I think."

"True. Very true. Personally, I think you're just a douche bag, you don't seem like you have anger issues."

"Well Dr. I don't think that's a very wise assessment..."

"Guess what, I don't care. This is free work, I don't want to deal with you unless I'm being paid."

Neil stands up, and with a noticeable look of disgust on his face, leaves the room. He continues walking until he's not only out of the office, but blocks away from the building. He slinks into an alleyway, walking while dragging his hand against the grimy, graffiti covered wall. He steps over a knocked down garbage can, into the end of the alleyway and sits down, with his face in his hands.

"You know, people like to make assumptions. They like to say, 'oh that guy's gonna be a real loser, eh?' People can be real assholes like that, can't they? I'm not one of those people, but I do have a few words for my next opponent. X, I hate to ask this, but are you prepared? From what I've heard, this is your debut here. Who better to show you the ropes then someone else who's new here, huh? There exists however, one major problem. I don't plan on showing you anything, I plan on ending you before you even begin. I can't think of anything else I'd rather do at this point then to break you in order to make myself. You claim to be mysterious, but I can read you like a damn book. There's a terrible discrepancy in our definition of mysterious. To me, mysterious is to not let people learn your identity, or making an effort to be secretive. You go about claiming to be a mystery, yet if someone went on the internet, after a few minutes, they could learn more about you than you know about yourself. X, a letter that is supposed to symbolize mystery in some cases, yet in others can be used as a way for one to insert their own word, and that's exactly what I'm going to do. You see, I think you're a coward. Your new name is coward. Enjoy it, it's the only thing you're going to get from me besides an ass kicking this Wednesday."