Old and Alone. (Showcase/ASW)
Jun 6, 2017 1:31:20 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Rage (aka NoMercyMaster2001), and 2 more like this
Post by strangerdanger on Jun 6, 2017 1:31:20 GMT -5
It's 3:15 PM. His doctor's appointment was scheduled for 2:45 PM. After signing in, and sitting in the waiting room for fifteen minutes, MGK was escorted into the doctor's office by a nurse, and left to sit there alone, once again waiting. There were no clocks in the room, but he could hear still time ticking away in his head. With each passing moment, he became more anxious, more frustrated. In his mind, he didn't even belong here. Not now.
Now was a time for preparation, both mentally, and physically. He could already notice his slight improvements. Over the years, in retirement, MGK had spent much of his time indoors. Had he been fighting competitors in the ring? Obviously not. But he had been fighting his demons. It was only recently, upon his return to the XHF Network, that he had finally resolved to embrace these demons.
Life was always a struggle.
It was a struggle, growing up without a stable father figure on the streets of Detroit.
It was a struggle, training and working his ass off just so that he could earn a chance to shine in the XHF.
It was a struggle maintaining the spotlight, and taking on all challengers during his various championship reigns.
It was a struggle, coming to terms with his retirement, accepting the loss of the only person he ever truly cared about.
And now, it was a struggle, making the necessary preparations to return to the ring.
Back in the day, he would have laughed at the prospect of going to see a doctor before a wrestling match. He was younger, healthier, he had more gas left in the tank to burn away carelessly. Today, things have changed. Wrestling promotions are much more careful about the toll that this line of work can take on their atheletes. Probably wouldn't look good for the blossoming ASW promotion to have a wrestling "legend" die in the center of their ring on the XHF Network's second Showcase event. Selfishly, MGK didn't care about that, but he understood their concerns. He was no longer a spring chicken, and now, his age, his mental condition, his history with drugs and alcohol, and his lingering injuries from years long passed, have made him, not quite a liability, but a prospective liability.
This was all a formality, however. Everyone who had seen MGK and Doc clash in the past already knew that these two men were going to rip each other apart, piece by piece. This was not going to be a display of athleticism. This wasn't going to be an athletic showcase of performance art. This was going to be a fight. A fight to the finish, a fight to the death, a fight, MGK had recently learned, that would not end, until there was only one man left standing.
MGK thought this to be fitting. For after all, wasn't that always the case with him and Doc? Whenever these two icons stepped into the ring, they put their bodies, their careers, and their lives on the line, and they never held back. Between MGK and Doc, it was always about who could dish out the most punishment, who could take the most punishment, and who could walk out with their arm raised high in the air.
As MGK sits in the Doctor's office and ponders these thoughts, the door opens, and his Doctor walks in.
Dr. Fredricks: "Mike! Good to see you man, how the hell have you been?"
"How the hell do I look?"
Dr. Fredricks: "Well, I must admit, you've looked better. But hey, never judge a book by its cover, right? Now, first things first. How have you been feeling lately?"
"Worse. Better. A little bit of both."
Dr. Fredricks: "Have you been taking your medication as prescribed?"
"Eh. Sure, why not."
Dr. Fredricks: "Listen, I know you don't like being 'told' what to do, but I need to remind you, we only prescribe you these medications in order to serve your best interests. This is all about your health, Mike. Your quality of life, your happiness. I need you to see that. Now, your medications... have you been experiencing any side effects? Anything out of the ordinary?"
"I'm feeling more like myself than I have in a long time, honestly. And it feels really good."
There is no way that Dr. Fredricks can have any idea what MGK really means by that. To someone who hasn't been paying much attention to MGK's recent "dialogue" with Doc, it would seem to be a healthy expression of normalcy. In this case, the fact that MGK is feeling "more like himself" is rather a clear indication that he is feeling more volatile, more dangerous, more unpredictable, than he has in nearly a decade. Surely, for his safety as well as the safety of others, this is not a good thing.
Dr Fredricks: "Good, good. The mood stabilizers are still helping? You've been on them for a long time, and sometimes it's not abnormal for your tolerance to rise up, which may hinder the resul-"
"The mood stabilizers are working just fine."
They're not. On the days that he does take them, he only does so to increase the potency of the painkillers that he is also prescribed. But lately, ever since he was made aware that the XHF Network had launched, he pretty much only takes them when he feels like it. Aka, not as prescribed. Any doctor will tell you, medications typically don't work well if you don't take them as you're instructed to. Hence why MGK hasn't been in the best of moods lately. It would be a mistake to expect that to change any time soon now, given his hostile attitude.
Dr. Fredricks: "Good, good. And how's the pain? Any lingering issues with the knees or the back?"
"Same old, Dr. Fredricks. The pain medications you give me are sufficient. At this point I have everything I need. Is there some lingering pain? Sure. But it's nothing I can't manage on my own."
This isn't necessarily true, or depending on how you look at it, maybe it is. MGK has multiple prescription medications for pain in his medicine cabinet at home ,but only one of them was prescribed by Dr. Fredricks. The rest, he obtained, shall we say, by "other means".
Dr. Fredricks: "Glad to hear it. We are always careful about prescribing these kinds of things, as you are well aware, because of their addictive nature. But due to your age and the amount of damage your body has sustained over the years, it's more than likely you'll be needing those medications to avoid severe pain for the rest of your life. That is, if you are still planning to avoid the surgery."
"I don't need the surgery, and honestly, I'm getting a little sick of having the same discussion with you. If and when I need to have a surgery done, I'll let you know, alright? You've already told me before, it's not necessary. So until it is, we'll just leave it at that. I can move fine... I can train as hard as I've ever trained before, and the rust is shaking off quite nicely, even by my expectations. No surgery."
Dr. Fredricks: "Alright, it's completely your call. I just hope that doesn't change after your 'big return' to the ring."
"What are you trying to say, exactly?"
MGK squints his eyes accusingly at his doctor, and leans forward, in a slightly confrontational manner. More than anything else, he seems quite defensive.
Dr. Fredricks: "Nothing, I'm just trying to wish you the best of luck."
"Listen, Dr. Fredricks. I appreciate the gesture, alright? But just so we're clear, I don't need your well wishes. I don't need your half-assed compliments, and I certainly don't need you to wish me LUCK. Luck is for losers, alright? Luck has had nothing to do with any of my success in the past, and it's not going to make the slightest bit of difference now, either. What I need, is a doctor to clear me for in ring competition. I need you to clear me, send the results over to Mongo, send a copy to All State Pro Wrestling, and that is IT. Now, can we please get this over with?"
Dr. Fredricks: "Why yes, Mike, yes, of course. Just trying to remind you that I am only here to help. Now, let's get this physical done, and I'll inform you of the results when they are ready. Sound good?"
We cut to a room that MGK was seen in, just a day or two ago. Polished, sleek black floor. Smooth glass table. Wide white walls, big enough so that we cannot even fit the entire room into the frame of our view. Large, glass windows making up most of what is could be a wall, giving us an outlook into the bright lights of New York City. This is MGK's penthouse suite, which he only occupies when visiting the city on buisness. He hasn't had much use for this place in years. That all changed a couple nights ago, when he put pen to paper and signed his name on his ASW contract.
Once again. MGK sits at the glass table, in the same place we last saw him while located in this large room. It's very plain, almost joyless, and extremely sanitized. Clean. We can only assume that since MGK was last in this room, ashing his cigarettes on the center table, somebody had cleaned up the mess, because the table top is once again aboslutely glistening. MGK smiles, as he stares straight ahead, into the camera.
"Funny, isn't it Doc? How times change. When you're younger, you don't really spend that much time thinking about the distant future, at least not in our line of work. Sure, it's not uncommon to think about vague things. Things such as..."
MGK clears his throat, and speaks in a high pitched voice, as if doing a spiteful impersonation of a child:
"'When I get older, I wanna be known as the best there ever was! I don't ever wanna become an elderly man, but if I do, boy oh boy, I want all my fans to remember me for the respectable fighting champion I used to be!'"
Shrugging his shoulders as if to say "Hey, I tried", MGK folds his hands on the table in front of him, and continues.
"...I don't know, vague shit like that, I guess. But it's the little things that I'd never personally taken into consideration before that end up surprising me. Those aches and pains we used to suffer after an especially brutal match, only to shake it off and get back in the ring and do it all over again the very next day? I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. Call me stupid, but I never really considered that a day would come when I would experience the culmination of all those 'little' aches and pains on a daily basis. Pain has become a part of my consciousness, like it or not, it's a constant pain that is NEVER going to go away, and I've gotta tell ya Doc... at this point, I kind of enjoy it."
"Do you know why I enjoy that pain, old buddy? Because it makes me feel ALIVE again. And you know what else makes me feel alive again? Hearing the anger and disdain in your voice as you recounted some of the terrible things I've done to you and your family. That makes me feel alive Doc, that's the stuff that floats my boat, that's the shit that gets me excited. It is your 'sharp' memory that has invigorated my fighting spirit, and since I can't seem to find the right words to express how grateful I am for that, on Sunday at Showcase, I'm going to express to you just how grateful I am through actions. The kinds of actions that you know me best for."
"Now, Doc, I know you're not exactly a big fan of 'taking compliments', especially from me specifically, and I can't fault you for that. In fact, I think it's very admirable of you to take that position. As a matter of fact, you deserve all the credit in the world. Have I ever told you how much I RESPECT your conviction and your principles?"
MGK laughs as he looks down for a moment, shaking his head. He then looks back at us, his sneer making it very obvious that at this point, he is only mocking his old rival.
"No? I haven't? GOOD. Because I don't give a shit about your principles. You can trust me, you can choose not to trust me, and we both know what the smarter choice would be, because you seem to have already made it. But we're both big boys now, and from where I'm sitting, it seems rather childish that you're unwilling to have a reasonable conversation without getting hung-up on all these nasty, unpleasant details from our shared history."
"You're not an idiot Doc, I never thought that you were. And at this point in my life, I'd like to make the best effort that I can to recognize all of the positive things about you, just as well as the negatives, regardless of how it makes you feel, because I don't CARE how it makes you feel."
"For example... you may very well have hit the nail on the head, when you implied that just maybe, I've been lying to myself for years, forcing myself to forget all the terrible things that I've done to people like you in the past. Maybe I did find it easier to sleep at night without reflecting on the brutal violence that I've inflicted on innocent men, women, even children. I was trying to forget about those things indeed, but I wasn't trying to forget them for any righteous, respectable reason. I was trying to forget about my past transgressions because I simply don't want to be bothered with it. Like I said before... dump the smaller memories to make room for the better ones. I do what I do, what I've always done, when it best serves MY interests. When it makes ME feel good. Because I like to feel good, Doc. I like the excitement that comes with pain and anger, and I like the pleasure that comes with ignorance. I like it all, so, just like always, I do whatever suits ME best."
At this time, MGK opens a drawer on his glass table, and pulls out one of his prescription medication bottles. He opens it, pops a couple pills, although we're not sure which ones they are, and then he puts the bottle back in the drawer. Swallowing the pills, he smiles, content with himself, and then leans back in his chair.
"Meanwhile, you seem to be PROUD of your ability to recognize the fact that you're an asshole. Newsflash, never ONCE did I ever claim that I wasn't an asshole. What was it that I said when I returned to the XHF to make a statement? Hmm... let me try to remember..."
MGK taps his finger with his chin, trying to recall a statement he made about a week ago.
"Oh yeah, I think I've got it. 'I am a backstabber, I am a liar, I am a cheat, an egomaniac, I am still an UNDISPUTED ICON, and now, more than ever, I am a legend, and I'm NOT DONE YET.' Ring any bells? Your ears sure seemed to perk up when I mentioned your name, but now you want to speak as if I'm oblivious to the fact that I'm not really a 'great guy'. Here's another tid bit, old friend, remember those fans that used to cheer me, and chant my name? The same fans that bought my merchandise, and forked over money so that they could tune into every single XHF event that I was booked to compete on? NONE of those people ever cheered me on because I was a 'great guy' either. You may feel the need to insult my intelligence to boost your own ego, and I get it man, I do the same thing all the time. But to insinuate that all of those XHF fans were too stupid to see me for what I've always been, that seems a bit harsh to me."
"So okay, Doc. You're proud of the fact that you're a snake. You're proud of the fact that you're bitter, that you're a bully, and all of that jazz. I get it Doc, you're an asshole. What exactly are you trying to get out of that? You want me to agree? Okay Doc, I agree, you're an asshole. Congratu-fucking-lations. Guess what else, I'm an asshole too! Look at the two of us! A pair of assholes... but like two prison mates in the shower, at Showcase, only ONE of us is going to get FUCKED, pal, and it's not going to be me."
"Just look at me, sitting here all alone in this room in my penthouse suite in New York City, talking into a camera, addressing a world that forgot about me a long time ago. Is it lonely? Sure, I guess. But I've gotta tell ya, I'll take 'lonely' over some yammering bitch bugging me every ten minutes to give me advice on a career that fucking died nearly ten years ago."
MGK reaches into the side pocket of his jeans, and pulls out his smartphone, placing it on the table.
"Can you hear that, Doc? ...Silence. Nobody's sending me texts. Nobody's calling me to ask me how I'm doing. You think that you need to REMIND me of just how alone I am in this world? And what, you think that's some kind of mistake? Think about this, just for a moment. I still have lots, and lots of money that I can spend on anything I want. I can pay for sex, I can pay for friendship, because in this life, you can buy almost anything if your pockets are deep enough, and lined with cash. If I wanted company, after I lost Carli, I could have contacted all of my old buddies, and partied with them day in and day out, just like the good old days, because I CAN AFFORD IT. If they got sick of me, I could easily go out , meet NEW friends, and party with THEM day in and day out, because I CAN AFFORD IT. You know what I can't afford anymore, Doc? I can't AFFORD to SUFFER the company of a bunch of useless, lacking-in-ambition, mooching mother fuckers who wouldn't be fit to wash my jock strap, let alone hold a decent conversation with me on their best day. Maybe the world got tired of me, but there is always going to be a small portion of the world that can be BOUGHT, because everything has a price. No, Doc, that's where you're wrong in your analysis. I AM THE ONE WHO GOT SICK OF THE WORLD."
"That's why I sit here in my penthouse, all alone, Doc. That's why, when I fly out to stay at my house in the country, I barely leave the house, and the only social interactions I ever have take place out of NECESSITY. That's why I was hesitant to even return to this company, despite my out of control ego insisting that I do. Because this past decade, I've grown to realize that I don't NEED to suffer the irritation that comes with fake people or fake friends. I don't NEED to suffer the painfully short-sighted observations of honest people and honest friends, either. I'm better off alone, Doc. I'm better off here, by myself, just me, my personal demons, and my anger. It's more vital at this point than ever before, because one of the things that I need to do, is sit here and allow myself to marinate in my anger, my rage, my envy, and my selfishness. Those are the only friends I need now."
Standing up, MGK reaches for his phone, which has not vibrated or rung once, and puts it back into his pocket, having proved his point. Casually, he begins to exit the room.
"I've already explained to you some of the things that I DON'T NEED, Doc. So I might as well punctuate that with one more fun fact for ya. The only thing that I DO NEED, at this moment, is to be the Last Man Standing when the smoke clears at Showcase. And old friend, that's exactly what I plan to do."
The door closes behind MGK, as he leaves the room. Fade out.
Now was a time for preparation, both mentally, and physically. He could already notice his slight improvements. Over the years, in retirement, MGK had spent much of his time indoors. Had he been fighting competitors in the ring? Obviously not. But he had been fighting his demons. It was only recently, upon his return to the XHF Network, that he had finally resolved to embrace these demons.
Life was always a struggle.
It was a struggle, growing up without a stable father figure on the streets of Detroit.
It was a struggle, training and working his ass off just so that he could earn a chance to shine in the XHF.
It was a struggle maintaining the spotlight, and taking on all challengers during his various championship reigns.
It was a struggle, coming to terms with his retirement, accepting the loss of the only person he ever truly cared about.
And now, it was a struggle, making the necessary preparations to return to the ring.
Back in the day, he would have laughed at the prospect of going to see a doctor before a wrestling match. He was younger, healthier, he had more gas left in the tank to burn away carelessly. Today, things have changed. Wrestling promotions are much more careful about the toll that this line of work can take on their atheletes. Probably wouldn't look good for the blossoming ASW promotion to have a wrestling "legend" die in the center of their ring on the XHF Network's second Showcase event. Selfishly, MGK didn't care about that, but he understood their concerns. He was no longer a spring chicken, and now, his age, his mental condition, his history with drugs and alcohol, and his lingering injuries from years long passed, have made him, not quite a liability, but a prospective liability.
This was all a formality, however. Everyone who had seen MGK and Doc clash in the past already knew that these two men were going to rip each other apart, piece by piece. This was not going to be a display of athleticism. This wasn't going to be an athletic showcase of performance art. This was going to be a fight. A fight to the finish, a fight to the death, a fight, MGK had recently learned, that would not end, until there was only one man left standing.
MGK thought this to be fitting. For after all, wasn't that always the case with him and Doc? Whenever these two icons stepped into the ring, they put their bodies, their careers, and their lives on the line, and they never held back. Between MGK and Doc, it was always about who could dish out the most punishment, who could take the most punishment, and who could walk out with their arm raised high in the air.
As MGK sits in the Doctor's office and ponders these thoughts, the door opens, and his Doctor walks in.
Dr. Fredricks: "Mike! Good to see you man, how the hell have you been?"
"How the hell do I look?"
Dr. Fredricks: "Well, I must admit, you've looked better. But hey, never judge a book by its cover, right? Now, first things first. How have you been feeling lately?"
"Worse. Better. A little bit of both."
Dr. Fredricks: "Have you been taking your medication as prescribed?"
"Eh. Sure, why not."
Dr. Fredricks: "Listen, I know you don't like being 'told' what to do, but I need to remind you, we only prescribe you these medications in order to serve your best interests. This is all about your health, Mike. Your quality of life, your happiness. I need you to see that. Now, your medications... have you been experiencing any side effects? Anything out of the ordinary?"
"I'm feeling more like myself than I have in a long time, honestly. And it feels really good."
There is no way that Dr. Fredricks can have any idea what MGK really means by that. To someone who hasn't been paying much attention to MGK's recent "dialogue" with Doc, it would seem to be a healthy expression of normalcy. In this case, the fact that MGK is feeling "more like himself" is rather a clear indication that he is feeling more volatile, more dangerous, more unpredictable, than he has in nearly a decade. Surely, for his safety as well as the safety of others, this is not a good thing.
Dr Fredricks: "Good, good. The mood stabilizers are still helping? You've been on them for a long time, and sometimes it's not abnormal for your tolerance to rise up, which may hinder the resul-"
"The mood stabilizers are working just fine."
They're not. On the days that he does take them, he only does so to increase the potency of the painkillers that he is also prescribed. But lately, ever since he was made aware that the XHF Network had launched, he pretty much only takes them when he feels like it. Aka, not as prescribed. Any doctor will tell you, medications typically don't work well if you don't take them as you're instructed to. Hence why MGK hasn't been in the best of moods lately. It would be a mistake to expect that to change any time soon now, given his hostile attitude.
Dr. Fredricks: "Good, good. And how's the pain? Any lingering issues with the knees or the back?"
"Same old, Dr. Fredricks. The pain medications you give me are sufficient. At this point I have everything I need. Is there some lingering pain? Sure. But it's nothing I can't manage on my own."
This isn't necessarily true, or depending on how you look at it, maybe it is. MGK has multiple prescription medications for pain in his medicine cabinet at home ,but only one of them was prescribed by Dr. Fredricks. The rest, he obtained, shall we say, by "other means".
Dr. Fredricks: "Glad to hear it. We are always careful about prescribing these kinds of things, as you are well aware, because of their addictive nature. But due to your age and the amount of damage your body has sustained over the years, it's more than likely you'll be needing those medications to avoid severe pain for the rest of your life. That is, if you are still planning to avoid the surgery."
"I don't need the surgery, and honestly, I'm getting a little sick of having the same discussion with you. If and when I need to have a surgery done, I'll let you know, alright? You've already told me before, it's not necessary. So until it is, we'll just leave it at that. I can move fine... I can train as hard as I've ever trained before, and the rust is shaking off quite nicely, even by my expectations. No surgery."
Dr. Fredricks: "Alright, it's completely your call. I just hope that doesn't change after your 'big return' to the ring."
"What are you trying to say, exactly?"
MGK squints his eyes accusingly at his doctor, and leans forward, in a slightly confrontational manner. More than anything else, he seems quite defensive.
Dr. Fredricks: "Nothing, I'm just trying to wish you the best of luck."
"Listen, Dr. Fredricks. I appreciate the gesture, alright? But just so we're clear, I don't need your well wishes. I don't need your half-assed compliments, and I certainly don't need you to wish me LUCK. Luck is for losers, alright? Luck has had nothing to do with any of my success in the past, and it's not going to make the slightest bit of difference now, either. What I need, is a doctor to clear me for in ring competition. I need you to clear me, send the results over to Mongo, send a copy to All State Pro Wrestling, and that is IT. Now, can we please get this over with?"
Dr. Fredricks: "Why yes, Mike, yes, of course. Just trying to remind you that I am only here to help. Now, let's get this physical done, and I'll inform you of the results when they are ready. Sound good?"
We cut to a room that MGK was seen in, just a day or two ago. Polished, sleek black floor. Smooth glass table. Wide white walls, big enough so that we cannot even fit the entire room into the frame of our view. Large, glass windows making up most of what is could be a wall, giving us an outlook into the bright lights of New York City. This is MGK's penthouse suite, which he only occupies when visiting the city on buisness. He hasn't had much use for this place in years. That all changed a couple nights ago, when he put pen to paper and signed his name on his ASW contract.
Once again. MGK sits at the glass table, in the same place we last saw him while located in this large room. It's very plain, almost joyless, and extremely sanitized. Clean. We can only assume that since MGK was last in this room, ashing his cigarettes on the center table, somebody had cleaned up the mess, because the table top is once again aboslutely glistening. MGK smiles, as he stares straight ahead, into the camera.
"Funny, isn't it Doc? How times change. When you're younger, you don't really spend that much time thinking about the distant future, at least not in our line of work. Sure, it's not uncommon to think about vague things. Things such as..."
MGK clears his throat, and speaks in a high pitched voice, as if doing a spiteful impersonation of a child:
"'When I get older, I wanna be known as the best there ever was! I don't ever wanna become an elderly man, but if I do, boy oh boy, I want all my fans to remember me for the respectable fighting champion I used to be!'"
Shrugging his shoulders as if to say "Hey, I tried", MGK folds his hands on the table in front of him, and continues.
"...I don't know, vague shit like that, I guess. But it's the little things that I'd never personally taken into consideration before that end up surprising me. Those aches and pains we used to suffer after an especially brutal match, only to shake it off and get back in the ring and do it all over again the very next day? I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. Call me stupid, but I never really considered that a day would come when I would experience the culmination of all those 'little' aches and pains on a daily basis. Pain has become a part of my consciousness, like it or not, it's a constant pain that is NEVER going to go away, and I've gotta tell ya Doc... at this point, I kind of enjoy it."
"Do you know why I enjoy that pain, old buddy? Because it makes me feel ALIVE again. And you know what else makes me feel alive again? Hearing the anger and disdain in your voice as you recounted some of the terrible things I've done to you and your family. That makes me feel alive Doc, that's the stuff that floats my boat, that's the shit that gets me excited. It is your 'sharp' memory that has invigorated my fighting spirit, and since I can't seem to find the right words to express how grateful I am for that, on Sunday at Showcase, I'm going to express to you just how grateful I am through actions. The kinds of actions that you know me best for."
"Now, Doc, I know you're not exactly a big fan of 'taking compliments', especially from me specifically, and I can't fault you for that. In fact, I think it's very admirable of you to take that position. As a matter of fact, you deserve all the credit in the world. Have I ever told you how much I RESPECT your conviction and your principles?"
MGK laughs as he looks down for a moment, shaking his head. He then looks back at us, his sneer making it very obvious that at this point, he is only mocking his old rival.
"No? I haven't? GOOD. Because I don't give a shit about your principles. You can trust me, you can choose not to trust me, and we both know what the smarter choice would be, because you seem to have already made it. But we're both big boys now, and from where I'm sitting, it seems rather childish that you're unwilling to have a reasonable conversation without getting hung-up on all these nasty, unpleasant details from our shared history."
"You're not an idiot Doc, I never thought that you were. And at this point in my life, I'd like to make the best effort that I can to recognize all of the positive things about you, just as well as the negatives, regardless of how it makes you feel, because I don't CARE how it makes you feel."
"For example... you may very well have hit the nail on the head, when you implied that just maybe, I've been lying to myself for years, forcing myself to forget all the terrible things that I've done to people like you in the past. Maybe I did find it easier to sleep at night without reflecting on the brutal violence that I've inflicted on innocent men, women, even children. I was trying to forget about those things indeed, but I wasn't trying to forget them for any righteous, respectable reason. I was trying to forget about my past transgressions because I simply don't want to be bothered with it. Like I said before... dump the smaller memories to make room for the better ones. I do what I do, what I've always done, when it best serves MY interests. When it makes ME feel good. Because I like to feel good, Doc. I like the excitement that comes with pain and anger, and I like the pleasure that comes with ignorance. I like it all, so, just like always, I do whatever suits ME best."
At this time, MGK opens a drawer on his glass table, and pulls out one of his prescription medication bottles. He opens it, pops a couple pills, although we're not sure which ones they are, and then he puts the bottle back in the drawer. Swallowing the pills, he smiles, content with himself, and then leans back in his chair.
"Meanwhile, you seem to be PROUD of your ability to recognize the fact that you're an asshole. Newsflash, never ONCE did I ever claim that I wasn't an asshole. What was it that I said when I returned to the XHF to make a statement? Hmm... let me try to remember..."
MGK taps his finger with his chin, trying to recall a statement he made about a week ago.
"Oh yeah, I think I've got it. 'I am a backstabber, I am a liar, I am a cheat, an egomaniac, I am still an UNDISPUTED ICON, and now, more than ever, I am a legend, and I'm NOT DONE YET.' Ring any bells? Your ears sure seemed to perk up when I mentioned your name, but now you want to speak as if I'm oblivious to the fact that I'm not really a 'great guy'. Here's another tid bit, old friend, remember those fans that used to cheer me, and chant my name? The same fans that bought my merchandise, and forked over money so that they could tune into every single XHF event that I was booked to compete on? NONE of those people ever cheered me on because I was a 'great guy' either. You may feel the need to insult my intelligence to boost your own ego, and I get it man, I do the same thing all the time. But to insinuate that all of those XHF fans were too stupid to see me for what I've always been, that seems a bit harsh to me."
"So okay, Doc. You're proud of the fact that you're a snake. You're proud of the fact that you're bitter, that you're a bully, and all of that jazz. I get it Doc, you're an asshole. What exactly are you trying to get out of that? You want me to agree? Okay Doc, I agree, you're an asshole. Congratu-fucking-lations. Guess what else, I'm an asshole too! Look at the two of us! A pair of assholes... but like two prison mates in the shower, at Showcase, only ONE of us is going to get FUCKED, pal, and it's not going to be me."
"Just look at me, sitting here all alone in this room in my penthouse suite in New York City, talking into a camera, addressing a world that forgot about me a long time ago. Is it lonely? Sure, I guess. But I've gotta tell ya, I'll take 'lonely' over some yammering bitch bugging me every ten minutes to give me advice on a career that fucking died nearly ten years ago."
MGK reaches into the side pocket of his jeans, and pulls out his smartphone, placing it on the table.
"Can you hear that, Doc? ...Silence. Nobody's sending me texts. Nobody's calling me to ask me how I'm doing. You think that you need to REMIND me of just how alone I am in this world? And what, you think that's some kind of mistake? Think about this, just for a moment. I still have lots, and lots of money that I can spend on anything I want. I can pay for sex, I can pay for friendship, because in this life, you can buy almost anything if your pockets are deep enough, and lined with cash. If I wanted company, after I lost Carli, I could have contacted all of my old buddies, and partied with them day in and day out, just like the good old days, because I CAN AFFORD IT. If they got sick of me, I could easily go out , meet NEW friends, and party with THEM day in and day out, because I CAN AFFORD IT. You know what I can't afford anymore, Doc? I can't AFFORD to SUFFER the company of a bunch of useless, lacking-in-ambition, mooching mother fuckers who wouldn't be fit to wash my jock strap, let alone hold a decent conversation with me on their best day. Maybe the world got tired of me, but there is always going to be a small portion of the world that can be BOUGHT, because everything has a price. No, Doc, that's where you're wrong in your analysis. I AM THE ONE WHO GOT SICK OF THE WORLD."
"That's why I sit here in my penthouse, all alone, Doc. That's why, when I fly out to stay at my house in the country, I barely leave the house, and the only social interactions I ever have take place out of NECESSITY. That's why I was hesitant to even return to this company, despite my out of control ego insisting that I do. Because this past decade, I've grown to realize that I don't NEED to suffer the irritation that comes with fake people or fake friends. I don't NEED to suffer the painfully short-sighted observations of honest people and honest friends, either. I'm better off alone, Doc. I'm better off here, by myself, just me, my personal demons, and my anger. It's more vital at this point than ever before, because one of the things that I need to do, is sit here and allow myself to marinate in my anger, my rage, my envy, and my selfishness. Those are the only friends I need now."
Standing up, MGK reaches for his phone, which has not vibrated or rung once, and puts it back into his pocket, having proved his point. Casually, he begins to exit the room.
"I've already explained to you some of the things that I DON'T NEED, Doc. So I might as well punctuate that with one more fun fact for ya. The only thing that I DO NEED, at this moment, is to be the Last Man Standing when the smoke clears at Showcase. And old friend, that's exactly what I plan to do."
The door closes behind MGK, as he leaves the room. Fade out.
