O, My Black Soul (ASW/Showcase)
Jun 6, 2017 14:23:07 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Rage (aka NoMercyMaster2001), and 2 more like this
Post by strangerdanger on Jun 6, 2017 14:23:07 GMT -5
6:30 AM.
He had just stepped out of the shower, and was now quietly seated on the couch in his living room. Even to the viewers, the silence seems uncomfortable, almost deafening. We understand that by now, MGK is, in many ways, unhinged. In the past week, his attitude has taken a turn, from somewhat civil, to absolutely savage. After all the things MGK has done in his career, we can only imagine what kind of madness may be lurking in that cold, calculated mind of his.
Sitting next to him on the couch lies a book.
"The Holy Sonnets' - collection of poems written by English poet John Donne. This composition of poetry wasn't published until the year 1633, two years after Donne's death. MGK smiles as he looks upon the book, with a sense of wonder and admiration about him. Never having been much into poetry during his formative years, MGK had taken up the habit of reading all sorts of literature after his retirement from the XHF. After all, he had needed some way to feel up all the extra free time.
Sometimes under the influence of a slight overdose of one of his pain medications, MGK would read through various books, subconsciously always looking for the darkest passages he could find; to him, it did not matter if it was a novel, a short story, or even what he used to think was "lame" poetry. If it was dark, brooding, or pessimistic in nature, he would always be drawn to it, light moths are drawn to light.
In his mind, he muses, "O, My black Soul, Now Thou Art Summoned", one of his all-time favorite sonnets.
In MGK's mind, he IS the sickness that Donne writes of. He is the champion of death, not just to the XHF Network, but more specifically, and perhaps more importantly right now, he believes that he is the sickness to Doc's historic and legendary career. At this point, it's no secret that it has bothered MGK for years and years, that he was never able to beat Doc in an XHF ring, or any other ring, for that matter. One might be bold enough to suggest that Doc's in-ring dominance has partially played some factor in MGK's increasingly unhinged mentality. But after all this time, MGK is reminded of that saying: It is the slow knife, slipping quietly through the bones, that cuts deepest.
Things could always be worse, right? At the moment, all MGK can think about, his primary obsession in life, is finally getting a much desired win over Doc. But what has he got to lose? Sure, no wife, no love interest, no kids, no legitimate family to speak of. A bastard by birth, MGK is, as he has said many times, a man with all the money he could ever need, a list of crowning achievements that would make any professional wrestler proud, and yet, not much else to show for it otherwise. But what if he's gone too far this time? Death is one thing that MGK is not afraid of. But paralysis? What if he is not only defeated by Doc, but paralyzed as well? That would be embarrassing. To return to the ring one more time, only to leave in a wheelchair. At one point, MGK had helped to set the standard for what all professional wrestlings SHOULD be like. What if here, at the end of the road, Doc was the one to once and for all turn MGK into the standard of what NOT to be like?
MGK, by his own admission, never possessed the grace that Donne references in this portion of the sonnet. He never had the ability to TRULY repent for his sins. He may have made public apologies, and hell, on certain rare occasions, he may have even made an effort to make up for some of his wrong-doings. But he knows better than anybody, there is no making up for some of the things he's done. Costing Tara her child was something that you can never truly come back from. It's not something any decent man would ever want to live with, but MGK is simply not a decent man.
Without the urge to renounce his sinful, wicked ways, MGK is simply... a black soul.
He thinks about these things, as his eyes rest on the his copy of "The Holy Sonnetts". After a long, eerie moment of recollection, MGK looks up, his blue eyes piercing and cold.
"Well, Doc. When this little reunion of ours began, you seemed, originally, to doubt my sincerity. I must ask you, is there any doubt left now? You expressed what sounded like a major fucking problem with the fact that I boasted your esteem and your legitimacy as a competitor before. And now that you've gotten a more blunt and harsh taste of what I have to offer, what do you do?"
MGK smiles, and sighs, leaning back on his couch.
"You start right back up with the childish insults. That's what you were always known best for, wasn't it?"
In a shrill voice, MGK puts up air quotes with his fingers, as he mocks his legendary rival.
"'Your dead girlfriend is getting fucked in hell, she was a slut, she fucked a black guy! Oh, and by the way, you're a pussy for mourning her death!'"
MGK lowers his hands, and leans forward, towards the camera.
"Does that about cut it? I mean I hate to paraphrase you Doc, you have such a mature and intelligent way with words, it'd be a shame if your enlightening message somehow got lost in translation. But I don't want you to get your panties in a bunch just because I 'respect' your quick-witted, fully developed manner of speaking. I know how much you HATE it when others show you respect, because clearly, judging by the way you talk, you don't even respect yourself enough to at least try and PRETEND that you're a grown ass man."
"So I'll spare you the details about how impressed I am by all the great points you made. Let's get something straight, you ignorant piece of shit. You can hurl all the same slurs and insults at me that you want. You can pretend that today, in 2017, it should be viewed as a shameful act if a white girl has sexual relations with a black guy. I guess because since you specifically targetted my girl, that I should be outraged? If your school yard insults had ANY bearing on reality, maybe you might have hurt my feelings, because infedility is just one of those things that tends to piss a man off, but at this point, you're just embarrassing yourself by making up stories about a dead girl banging Michael Storm, the implication being in your eyes that it would be EXTRA degrading to say that she had sex with a black man. Real classy, Doc. I can't even begin to imagine why Mongo wanted you out of the XHF in the first place. I mean, there's a difference between being offensive, and putting on a white robe and a white hat to attend KKK meetings in your spare time when you aren't making pussy jokes."
"How old are you now, Doc? I'd really like to know, because if you're more than twelve years old, you should be ASHAMED of yourself. Sitting there, blowing your nose and wiping fake tears into an empty tissue, as if that's the most original form of satire that you could possibly think of. REALLY? REALLY, DOC? How long did it take you to come up with that one? Do you pull ALL of your material from Adam Sandler movies? You embarrass me with your antics, and if you were aware of it, that would be one thing, but right now it honestly sounds like you're just spewing anything that enters your mind out of your mouth without any filter, which tells me that I must have struck a nerve with you."
"Unlike you, Doc, I'm a pretty classy guy, once you give me a chance. I'm a pretty chill dude, and I would never, EVER say any of those vile and disgusting things that you said to me. You crossed a line buddy, but I'm not gonna sink down to your level. I'm gonna take the high road, and conduct myself in a much more civil, and professional manner."
MGK straightens up, and clears his throat, smirking. The look on his face tells us that he's probably going to do the opposite of what he just said.
"Remind me again, pal, how long ago was it that I beat your sister up, and caused that pesky little miscarriage? Just think, if that kid had actually been BORN, by this point in it's life, it would probably be acting more mature than you! In many ways, a dead baby has you beat in terms of common decency. That baby ain't bothering nobody now! Isn't that just the funniest thing you've ever heard?"
MGK laughs as he slaps his knee, and leans back against the couch, fully aware of how dark and fucked up his words are. It's uncomfortable, and it should be. The word "unhinged" is not a term used loosely to describe this maniac.
"Honestly though, I don't wanna waste any more of my time talking about the dead baby of some nobody who came from a family of losers. I have my own personal theories on the necessities of population control, but unlike so many other people who simply talk about it, there once was a time when I actually ACTED on it, and made the world a better place as a result, by making sure that your bitch sister couldn't pollute the human gene pool any more than she already has by existing in the first place. One more time Doc, I want to thank you for reminding me of that, because it really is something to be proud of, and since that was a memory I had long since forgotten, I really appreciate the reminder that I have yet another reason to feel pretty damn good about myself. Here I thought being a two-time former XHF Champion was something to brag about, but now I'm beginning to wonder why I wasn't given some kind of humanitarian award for snuffing out another idiotic worthless member of the Doc family! I gave the world a gift that keeps on giving, and I'm still waiting for someone to thank me for it."
"Oh, and while I'm thinking of it, let's unpack that little box of bullshit you left me in the form of your critiques concerning my XHF Championship reigns. Two title reigns that added up to about 3 weeks? That's what you said, right? Nice try, but thankfully, there is a record of all of my championship matches in the XHF. TWO reigns, six months. I don't know how you good you are at math or telling time, but six months is a little more than 3 weeks. 21 days, compared to approximately 180 days? Jeeze Doc, I know you don't like me, and you've got a grudge because of that whole 'Tara' thing, but don't you think you're treating me just a little bit unfairly?"
With a look of sheer sarcasm and arrogance, MGK holds up two fingers.
"In my two title reigns, adding up to 6 months as XHF Champion, I was successful in gaining and/or defending the XHF Championship 12 times. And those are just the ones I can remember! But hey, you're welcome to go on down to the XHF archives and see for yourself, assuming that you can in fact read. And while we're on the subject of Championship reigns, let's reexamine my X*Crown Championship reign. I held on to that title from September of 2005 to March of 2006. Seven months I held on to that 'collective' strap, and nobody was able to take it from me in that time. I was victorious in a total of 13 X*Crown title matches. So why don't you indulge me Doc, and run me through the stats of your title reigns? Because I'd sure like to see how they can compare to mine."
He pauses, just for a moment, with a phony look of confusion.
"On second thought, is there even a written record of your Championship matches? Or did the higher-ups in the wrestling business decide that it was a complete waste of time, and toss it out altogether? Because I went back and looked not too long ago, and mine are still there."
"You can pretend that you are my superior in the wrestling ring Doc, but the fact of the matter is that if I beat you on Sunday, you will literally have NOTHING to hold over my head. Your X Crown Championship reign never lasted as long as mine did, and for one out of those seven months, I was fighting to defend that Championship on ONE LEG and I STILL outlasted you. Meanwhile, unfortunately for you, the Legendary Doc NEVER moved up any higher than the X Crown Championship. The greatest legacy you can boast at this point, is that you've never been beaten by ME, and at Showcase, that all comes to an END."
"I'm not gonna pretend I have the greatest self image in the world. It might be generous to refer to it as 'conflicted'. But that just makes me wonder how you see yourself, Doc. I mean, you've already said that you're a snake, you're the kid who steals lunch money at school, you finger little girls and then make their relatives smell it, whatever the fuck you were babbling about. Is that your self image? Because if it is, I'd like to make one small amendment. You're also a fucking {Mongo Edit: Nah we don't say that anymore}."
"You can sit there and mock me for paying respects to a lost loved one, and hey, that's fine. I'm a big believer in freedom of speech. And besides, it doesn't take a genius to realize that I would do the same to you in a heartbeat, albeit in a much classier and intellectual manner, as I've already demonstrated. You know good and well that I'll always acknowledge all of the shitty things you say about me, no matter how stupid they are, because hey, I'm an arrogant fuck, and I have trouble keeping quiet when someone makes an attempt to slander me or someone that I deeply care about. But what's your end game, Doc? What are you trying to accomplish? Do you think because you talked out of your mouth like the crude, selfish little prick that you are, that I'm going to stop visiting Carli's grave? You think I'm going to change ANYTHING that I do, the minute you begin your amature stand-up routine?"
"Neither of us have ever really been politically correct. Dead girlfriends, dead babies, miscarriages, that's all one thing. Calling you a {Mongo Edit: Nah we don't say that anymore}, that may not be the classiest way to approach this matter, but hey, if the shoe fits... I'm just shocked, I've gotta say, that you're so wound up, you're reducing yourself to petty racism, and fabricated slut shaming, all in the hopes that you'll get a rise out of me. I said once before that the only thing you could do to disappoint me was deliver a half-assed performance in the ring, but now... I'm really starting to wonder. Is this the same guy who I drew with all those years ago? The same guy who to this day holds victories over me that I could never avenge? Wow. I mean, listen, Doc..."
MGK pulls out one of his pill bottles from a drawer below his coffee table, and rattles it.
"You hear that? That's the sound of clinical mental illness. I know I'm fucked up in the head. Do you realize how close you are to this point? I mean Jesus, you talk about ignorance... Doc, you have no clue just how low down you've allowed me to drag you. In the eyes of society, I've been doing 'ok' for a little while now, but now that we are back here, home, on the XHF Network, I've been blessed with the privilege of showing my true colors, letting the REAL me come out of hiding after all these years of suppression. And it feels good! But do you really want to pretend that I'm SO much worse than you?"
He snickers, incredulously, almost as if he pities Doc, as he tosses his pill bottle back into the drawer that he pulled it from. Dude seems to have pill bottles hidden everywhere, even though he's already stopped taking half of them.
"One of the most obvious differences between us, is that I speak like a wicked son of a bitch, and then I remind everyone that it's not just a facade through my actions. But you on the other hand, you speak in the same sadistic and vile manner, yet you still try to sit on a high horse and pretend as if you're somehow morally superior, just because you're too much of a coward to back up your words with real action. You may not be politically correct Doc, but boy oh boy, you sure are a bitch. And at Showcase, I'm going to do what I should have done a long time ago, and I'm going to make you MY BITCH in front of the entire world."
MGK takes a glance at his watch, then looks back up, that infamous evil grin spread across his face once again.
"Why, just look at me here, wasting time yammering as if I've got nothing better to do today. Just figured I'd touch base with you, ol buddy, ol pal. But as fun as this is, I've got some training to do. So for the sake of anyone watching this right now, I'm afraid we'll have to pick this up at another time. Rest easy, old friend. Try not to hurt yourself the next time you decide to sling some shit in my direction, because if you wanna know the truth, I would LOVE it."
MGK stands up and stretches, yawning, as he prepares to go for a run. As he exits his living room, our scene fades to black, and then shifts....
There were times when MGK would recite those chilling words to himself, and wonder about the final days of Oppenheimer, and the legacy he left behind. Although not much of history buff, MGK was familiar with some basic knowledge regarding the physicist and his works. Most famously, Oppenheimer was known for his instrumental involvement in the creation of the atomic bomb. MGK wondered, "What was it like to make that kind of contribution to society? ...For your legacy to be one of complete and utter destruction, monuments beyond anything imaginable to the human mind at that time? To leave future generations with a weapon so terrible, so devastating that it was nearly unfathomable? ...The capability of ending all of humanity in its entirety, once and for all?"
For his part, Oppenheimer himself seemed to have mixed feelings on that matter. At one time, he seemed to take a certain degree of pride in his work, going as far as to lament the fact that his nuclear weapon was not available in time to be used on Nazi Germany. Yet, after the war, he had seemed to have been disturbed by the bombing of Nagasaki, having felt that the second nuclear bomb used was unnecessary. MGK, not much of a man of principle, always wondered what made the 2nd bomb so much worse than the first.
From a military standpoint, the answer was virtually obvious. The first bombing was a military tactic, designed to bring the war to an end much quicker than it otherwise would have. For the greater good, one might think. Sure, it would end something around 150,000 innocent lives, but mostly in hopes that it would save millions more from being lost instead. The second bomb, at least to Oppenheimer, felt like overkill. Do enough to defeat your enemies, but doing any more than that, to this legendary physicist, was immoral. Oppenheimer was later critisized for his conflicting feelings on the matter, and eventually was chastized for bemoaning the fact that he "had blood on his hands".
To MGK this was all extremely fascinating. For, much like President Roosevelt and President Truman, MGK felt that doing EVERYTHING in your power to bring your enemy to his knees was a paramount strategy. After everything he had been through with Doc, he had learned a crucial lesson: Don't just aim to defeat your opponent. Aim to beat him to death. Do this without hesitation, without mercy. Don't just burn him to the ground, burn the ashes as well.
War will always have its casualties. Deep down, MGK knew this, and in fact, a darker voice within him not only concured with this sentiment, but did so with a stunningly wicked amount of enthusiasm.
War.
Doc proclaimed that he was prepared to go to war. Well, so was MGK.
11:00 AM
As he sprinted through the woods on his property vast property in an isolated rural area, these persuasions swam through his mind. With every foot he moved forward, MGK tried to run faster and harder, pushing himself to identify his breaking point, and still sprint far beyond that. His tolerance towards pain needed to grow. His horizons needed to expand, not just in terms of dishing out violence, but receiving it as well.
He was in too deep at this point, and he knew, there was no turning back now.
As the trees seemingly flew past him on this dirt trail, his anger only grew, his resolve strengthening with each step he took. For every part of him that begin to tire and grow weary, there was another part of him that cried out with more rage and determination than before. MGK, as we were all made aware, is a lot of things. A "nice person" was simply not one of them. No matter how many times he had tried to convince himself that he had the capacity to be a kind and empathetic person, that dark voice from within always managed to prove him wrong at one time or another.
If he ever had a theoretical "Jiminy Cricket" begging him to "let his conscience be his guide", that naive and foolish cricket was stomped and beaten into silence by his overwhelming urge to maim, destroy, and conquer everything in his path, until there was nothing left to fight for.
He wasn't stupid. He could look in the mirror of his mind's eye, and understand fully that in some ways, he was deteriorating. MGK had lit the wick on the proverbial candle of his existance long ago, and for many years, he had been burning that candle at both ends. Years had past since he ever felt like he needed to carry the ball so fast and hard, but now, after all this time, here he was at it again. Maybe this was his way of subconsciously punishing himself for past sins. Or perhaps, this was his path to salvation. Even he couldn't be sure of the answer, and so he seemingly approached the matter from a different perspective each time it crossed his mind.
Maybe it was his unstable mental condition that created this great inconsistency in resolve. Whether or not this was the case, two facts remained: he WAS mentally unstable, slowly but surely unfurling on a public stage for the whole world to see, and he WAS inconsistent in his thoughts and beliefs. Some people saw this as a weakness, but deep down, MGK knew, this was just one of the many things that made him dangerous.
He would barely acknowledge these crucial facts publically; from his point of view, it was always obvious anyway, and anyone who couldn't see that was simply a dim wit.
His pattern of behavior throughout his career clearly illustrated this point. From the old XHF days forming the group Overdrive with his friends Cosmo and AJ Phoenix. Not long after, turning his back on each of them, one at a time. MGK was a snake, and he knew this. He was cunning, manipulative, and heartless. He was the type of man who would shake your hand and smile at you in one moment, but as soon as you turned your back, you were liable to feel a knife piercing straight through your heart from the rear. "Success and triumph, by any means necessary" was a motto that he directly applied to nearly every aspect of his life.
There were other examples beyond Overdrive. To him, even the fond memories of this once rebellious and degenerate group, all represented part of his evolution as a man. Sometimes he would back stab his friends for getting to close, becoming a prospective threat. Other times, he just did it for fun.
Did he feel shame for this? Did he feel guilt? Sometimes.
However, when you are fighting a war, there is no place for shame. No place for guilt. These are things to worry about when the war is over. A bridge to cross only after you've arrived. Men like J. Robert Oppenheimer knew this all too well, for it was only after that second bomb dropped in Nagasaki, that Oppenheimer seemingly was able to recognize the consequences of his "achievements". Before that, MGK always imagined, he was was simply a man on a mission. A man with a purpose. A man who knew that he couldn't afford the time nor the patience for things like guilt, shame, and regret. And, after all the despicable, inhumane things MGK had done throughout his wrestling career, he knew it, too.
He ran faster. It almost seemed as if he was stomping his feet into the dirt, attacking it with his running shoes. Cardio was a crucial part of his training regemine. It wouldn't be enough to be stronger than Doc, it wouldn't be enough to be more technically sound. He had to be quicker. He had to be more resiliant. In a Last Man Standing match, resiliency is often a deciding factor. And if MGK was to lose this match, and once again fall to Doc's feet in defeat, he didn't plan on doing so due to a lack of resilience. If he couldn't win this match, it had better have been because his legs were broken, his back was paralyzed, and his consciousness had departed, either temporarily, or hell, even forever. MGK had come back from injuries that no normal man could normally recover from. It was his goal to make damn sure that he was able to rise up no matter what Doc was going to throw at him now.
Faster, he ran. He could feel himself getting closer to the cliff, but he wasn't about to slow down. Not now. Not ever.
An hour later, MGK stands in his backyard, his clothes absolutely drenched in sweat. He is breathing heavily, as he stares off into space, into one of his latest trances. He's reached the end of his journey, at least the journey of the moment. The journey of reaching that breaking point. Even at the end of the road, though, he still can't see it. Eyes wide open, all he can see is the face of the man he yearns to destroy. All he can hear is Doc's voice. All he can think about, is what kind of mass destruction he will unleash upon his opponent in their Last Man Standing match at Showcase.
He doesn't plan to drop two nukes. Two nukes? Oppenheimer thought two nukes was extreme? Heh. Child's play. MGK plans to make Hiroshima and Nagasaki look like an act of mercy. He's going to drop one hundred nukes. Two hundred, if that's even possible. He is going to nuke Doc's entire existence, and when the smoke clears, he is going to fucking laugh about it. He isn't doing this for the greater good. He isn't doing this to prevent some unforeseen catastrophe. He is going to do this for his own sick and twisted pleasure. He's doing this so that he can take something from Doc, that he will NEVER get back. Hell, he's going to do it just to see the look on Doc's face when he realizes that finally, he's bitten off more than he can chew.
He stares off into the distance.
He breathes.
His body tells a story of exhaustion and weariness, but his eyes tell the story of War.
He had just stepped out of the shower, and was now quietly seated on the couch in his living room. Even to the viewers, the silence seems uncomfortable, almost deafening. We understand that by now, MGK is, in many ways, unhinged. In the past week, his attitude has taken a turn, from somewhat civil, to absolutely savage. After all the things MGK has done in his career, we can only imagine what kind of madness may be lurking in that cold, calculated mind of his.
Sitting next to him on the couch lies a book.
"The Holy Sonnets' - collection of poems written by English poet John Donne. This composition of poetry wasn't published until the year 1633, two years after Donne's death. MGK smiles as he looks upon the book, with a sense of wonder and admiration about him. Never having been much into poetry during his formative years, MGK had taken up the habit of reading all sorts of literature after his retirement from the XHF. After all, he had needed some way to feel up all the extra free time.
Sometimes under the influence of a slight overdose of one of his pain medications, MGK would read through various books, subconsciously always looking for the darkest passages he could find; to him, it did not matter if it was a novel, a short story, or even what he used to think was "lame" poetry. If it was dark, brooding, or pessimistic in nature, he would always be drawn to it, light moths are drawn to light.
In his mind, he muses, "O, My black Soul, Now Thou Art Summoned", one of his all-time favorite sonnets.
O, my black soul, now thou art summoned
By sickness, Death’s herald and champion;
Thou’rt like a pilgrim, which abroad hath done
Treason, and durst not turn to whence he’s fled;
By sickness, Death’s herald and champion;
Thou’rt like a pilgrim, which abroad hath done
Treason, and durst not turn to whence he’s fled;
In MGK's mind, he IS the sickness that Donne writes of. He is the champion of death, not just to the XHF Network, but more specifically, and perhaps more importantly right now, he believes that he is the sickness to Doc's historic and legendary career. At this point, it's no secret that it has bothered MGK for years and years, that he was never able to beat Doc in an XHF ring, or any other ring, for that matter. One might be bold enough to suggest that Doc's in-ring dominance has partially played some factor in MGK's increasingly unhinged mentality. But after all this time, MGK is reminded of that saying: It is the slow knife, slipping quietly through the bones, that cuts deepest.
Or like a thief, which till death’s doom be read,
Wisheth himself deliver’d from prison,
But damn’d and haled to execution,
Wisheth that still he might be imprisoned.
Wisheth himself deliver’d from prison,
But damn’d and haled to execution,
Wisheth that still he might be imprisoned.
Things could always be worse, right? At the moment, all MGK can think about, his primary obsession in life, is finally getting a much desired win over Doc. But what has he got to lose? Sure, no wife, no love interest, no kids, no legitimate family to speak of. A bastard by birth, MGK is, as he has said many times, a man with all the money he could ever need, a list of crowning achievements that would make any professional wrestler proud, and yet, not much else to show for it otherwise. But what if he's gone too far this time? Death is one thing that MGK is not afraid of. But paralysis? What if he is not only defeated by Doc, but paralyzed as well? That would be embarrassing. To return to the ring one more time, only to leave in a wheelchair. At one point, MGK had helped to set the standard for what all professional wrestlings SHOULD be like. What if here, at the end of the road, Doc was the one to once and for all turn MGK into the standard of what NOT to be like?
Yet grace, if thou repent, thou canst not lack;
But who shall give thee that grace to begin?
But who shall give thee that grace to begin?
MGK, by his own admission, never possessed the grace that Donne references in this portion of the sonnet. He never had the ability to TRULY repent for his sins. He may have made public apologies, and hell, on certain rare occasions, he may have even made an effort to make up for some of his wrong-doings. But he knows better than anybody, there is no making up for some of the things he's done. Costing Tara her child was something that you can never truly come back from. It's not something any decent man would ever want to live with, but MGK is simply not a decent man.
O, make thyself with holy mourning black,
And red with blushing, as thou art with sin;
Or wash thee in Christ’s blood, which hath this might,
That being red, it dyes red souls to white.
And red with blushing, as thou art with sin;
Or wash thee in Christ’s blood, which hath this might,
That being red, it dyes red souls to white.
Without the urge to renounce his sinful, wicked ways, MGK is simply... a black soul.
He thinks about these things, as his eyes rest on the his copy of "The Holy Sonnetts". After a long, eerie moment of recollection, MGK looks up, his blue eyes piercing and cold.
"Well, Doc. When this little reunion of ours began, you seemed, originally, to doubt my sincerity. I must ask you, is there any doubt left now? You expressed what sounded like a major fucking problem with the fact that I boasted your esteem and your legitimacy as a competitor before. And now that you've gotten a more blunt and harsh taste of what I have to offer, what do you do?"
MGK smiles, and sighs, leaning back on his couch.
"You start right back up with the childish insults. That's what you were always known best for, wasn't it?"
In a shrill voice, MGK puts up air quotes with his fingers, as he mocks his legendary rival.
"'Your dead girlfriend is getting fucked in hell, she was a slut, she fucked a black guy! Oh, and by the way, you're a pussy for mourning her death!'"
MGK lowers his hands, and leans forward, towards the camera.
"Does that about cut it? I mean I hate to paraphrase you Doc, you have such a mature and intelligent way with words, it'd be a shame if your enlightening message somehow got lost in translation. But I don't want you to get your panties in a bunch just because I 'respect' your quick-witted, fully developed manner of speaking. I know how much you HATE it when others show you respect, because clearly, judging by the way you talk, you don't even respect yourself enough to at least try and PRETEND that you're a grown ass man."
"So I'll spare you the details about how impressed I am by all the great points you made. Let's get something straight, you ignorant piece of shit. You can hurl all the same slurs and insults at me that you want. You can pretend that today, in 2017, it should be viewed as a shameful act if a white girl has sexual relations with a black guy. I guess because since you specifically targetted my girl, that I should be outraged? If your school yard insults had ANY bearing on reality, maybe you might have hurt my feelings, because infedility is just one of those things that tends to piss a man off, but at this point, you're just embarrassing yourself by making up stories about a dead girl banging Michael Storm, the implication being in your eyes that it would be EXTRA degrading to say that she had sex with a black man. Real classy, Doc. I can't even begin to imagine why Mongo wanted you out of the XHF in the first place. I mean, there's a difference between being offensive, and putting on a white robe and a white hat to attend KKK meetings in your spare time when you aren't making pussy jokes."
"How old are you now, Doc? I'd really like to know, because if you're more than twelve years old, you should be ASHAMED of yourself. Sitting there, blowing your nose and wiping fake tears into an empty tissue, as if that's the most original form of satire that you could possibly think of. REALLY? REALLY, DOC? How long did it take you to come up with that one? Do you pull ALL of your material from Adam Sandler movies? You embarrass me with your antics, and if you were aware of it, that would be one thing, but right now it honestly sounds like you're just spewing anything that enters your mind out of your mouth without any filter, which tells me that I must have struck a nerve with you."
"Unlike you, Doc, I'm a pretty classy guy, once you give me a chance. I'm a pretty chill dude, and I would never, EVER say any of those vile and disgusting things that you said to me. You crossed a line buddy, but I'm not gonna sink down to your level. I'm gonna take the high road, and conduct myself in a much more civil, and professional manner."
MGK straightens up, and clears his throat, smirking. The look on his face tells us that he's probably going to do the opposite of what he just said.
"Remind me again, pal, how long ago was it that I beat your sister up, and caused that pesky little miscarriage? Just think, if that kid had actually been BORN, by this point in it's life, it would probably be acting more mature than you! In many ways, a dead baby has you beat in terms of common decency. That baby ain't bothering nobody now! Isn't that just the funniest thing you've ever heard?"
MGK laughs as he slaps his knee, and leans back against the couch, fully aware of how dark and fucked up his words are. It's uncomfortable, and it should be. The word "unhinged" is not a term used loosely to describe this maniac.
"Honestly though, I don't wanna waste any more of my time talking about the dead baby of some nobody who came from a family of losers. I have my own personal theories on the necessities of population control, but unlike so many other people who simply talk about it, there once was a time when I actually ACTED on it, and made the world a better place as a result, by making sure that your bitch sister couldn't pollute the human gene pool any more than she already has by existing in the first place. One more time Doc, I want to thank you for reminding me of that, because it really is something to be proud of, and since that was a memory I had long since forgotten, I really appreciate the reminder that I have yet another reason to feel pretty damn good about myself. Here I thought being a two-time former XHF Champion was something to brag about, but now I'm beginning to wonder why I wasn't given some kind of humanitarian award for snuffing out another idiotic worthless member of the Doc family! I gave the world a gift that keeps on giving, and I'm still waiting for someone to thank me for it."
"Oh, and while I'm thinking of it, let's unpack that little box of bullshit you left me in the form of your critiques concerning my XHF Championship reigns. Two title reigns that added up to about 3 weeks? That's what you said, right? Nice try, but thankfully, there is a record of all of my championship matches in the XHF. TWO reigns, six months. I don't know how you good you are at math or telling time, but six months is a little more than 3 weeks. 21 days, compared to approximately 180 days? Jeeze Doc, I know you don't like me, and you've got a grudge because of that whole 'Tara' thing, but don't you think you're treating me just a little bit unfairly?"
With a look of sheer sarcasm and arrogance, MGK holds up two fingers.
"In my two title reigns, adding up to 6 months as XHF Champion, I was successful in gaining and/or defending the XHF Championship 12 times. And those are just the ones I can remember! But hey, you're welcome to go on down to the XHF archives and see for yourself, assuming that you can in fact read. And while we're on the subject of Championship reigns, let's reexamine my X*Crown Championship reign. I held on to that title from September of 2005 to March of 2006. Seven months I held on to that 'collective' strap, and nobody was able to take it from me in that time. I was victorious in a total of 13 X*Crown title matches. So why don't you indulge me Doc, and run me through the stats of your title reigns? Because I'd sure like to see how they can compare to mine."
He pauses, just for a moment, with a phony look of confusion.
"On second thought, is there even a written record of your Championship matches? Or did the higher-ups in the wrestling business decide that it was a complete waste of time, and toss it out altogether? Because I went back and looked not too long ago, and mine are still there."
"You can pretend that you are my superior in the wrestling ring Doc, but the fact of the matter is that if I beat you on Sunday, you will literally have NOTHING to hold over my head. Your X Crown Championship reign never lasted as long as mine did, and for one out of those seven months, I was fighting to defend that Championship on ONE LEG and I STILL outlasted you. Meanwhile, unfortunately for you, the Legendary Doc NEVER moved up any higher than the X Crown Championship. The greatest legacy you can boast at this point, is that you've never been beaten by ME, and at Showcase, that all comes to an END."
"I'm not gonna pretend I have the greatest self image in the world. It might be generous to refer to it as 'conflicted'. But that just makes me wonder how you see yourself, Doc. I mean, you've already said that you're a snake, you're the kid who steals lunch money at school, you finger little girls and then make their relatives smell it, whatever the fuck you were babbling about. Is that your self image? Because if it is, I'd like to make one small amendment. You're also a fucking {Mongo Edit: Nah we don't say that anymore}."
"You can sit there and mock me for paying respects to a lost loved one, and hey, that's fine. I'm a big believer in freedom of speech. And besides, it doesn't take a genius to realize that I would do the same to you in a heartbeat, albeit in a much classier and intellectual manner, as I've already demonstrated. You know good and well that I'll always acknowledge all of the shitty things you say about me, no matter how stupid they are, because hey, I'm an arrogant fuck, and I have trouble keeping quiet when someone makes an attempt to slander me or someone that I deeply care about. But what's your end game, Doc? What are you trying to accomplish? Do you think because you talked out of your mouth like the crude, selfish little prick that you are, that I'm going to stop visiting Carli's grave? You think I'm going to change ANYTHING that I do, the minute you begin your amature stand-up routine?"
"Neither of us have ever really been politically correct. Dead girlfriends, dead babies, miscarriages, that's all one thing. Calling you a {Mongo Edit: Nah we don't say that anymore}, that may not be the classiest way to approach this matter, but hey, if the shoe fits... I'm just shocked, I've gotta say, that you're so wound up, you're reducing yourself to petty racism, and fabricated slut shaming, all in the hopes that you'll get a rise out of me. I said once before that the only thing you could do to disappoint me was deliver a half-assed performance in the ring, but now... I'm really starting to wonder. Is this the same guy who I drew with all those years ago? The same guy who to this day holds victories over me that I could never avenge? Wow. I mean, listen, Doc..."
MGK pulls out one of his pill bottles from a drawer below his coffee table, and rattles it.
"You hear that? That's the sound of clinical mental illness. I know I'm fucked up in the head. Do you realize how close you are to this point? I mean Jesus, you talk about ignorance... Doc, you have no clue just how low down you've allowed me to drag you. In the eyes of society, I've been doing 'ok' for a little while now, but now that we are back here, home, on the XHF Network, I've been blessed with the privilege of showing my true colors, letting the REAL me come out of hiding after all these years of suppression. And it feels good! But do you really want to pretend that I'm SO much worse than you?"
He snickers, incredulously, almost as if he pities Doc, as he tosses his pill bottle back into the drawer that he pulled it from. Dude seems to have pill bottles hidden everywhere, even though he's already stopped taking half of them.
"One of the most obvious differences between us, is that I speak like a wicked son of a bitch, and then I remind everyone that it's not just a facade through my actions. But you on the other hand, you speak in the same sadistic and vile manner, yet you still try to sit on a high horse and pretend as if you're somehow morally superior, just because you're too much of a coward to back up your words with real action. You may not be politically correct Doc, but boy oh boy, you sure are a bitch. And at Showcase, I'm going to do what I should have done a long time ago, and I'm going to make you MY BITCH in front of the entire world."
MGK takes a glance at his watch, then looks back up, that infamous evil grin spread across his face once again.
"Why, just look at me here, wasting time yammering as if I've got nothing better to do today. Just figured I'd touch base with you, ol buddy, ol pal. But as fun as this is, I've got some training to do. So for the sake of anyone watching this right now, I'm afraid we'll have to pick this up at another time. Rest easy, old friend. Try not to hurt yourself the next time you decide to sling some shit in my direction, because if you wanna know the truth, I would LOVE it."
MGK stands up and stretches, yawning, as he prepares to go for a run. As he exits his living room, our scene fades to black, and then shifts....
"We knew the world would not be the same. A few people laughed... A few people cried... Most people were silent. I remembered the line from the Hindu scripture the Bhagavad Gita; Vishnu is trying to persuade the prince that he should do his duty, and to impress him takes on his multi-armed form, and says, 'Now I am become death, the destroyer of worlds.'"
- J. Robert Oppenheimer
- J. Robert Oppenheimer
There were times when MGK would recite those chilling words to himself, and wonder about the final days of Oppenheimer, and the legacy he left behind. Although not much of history buff, MGK was familiar with some basic knowledge regarding the physicist and his works. Most famously, Oppenheimer was known for his instrumental involvement in the creation of the atomic bomb. MGK wondered, "What was it like to make that kind of contribution to society? ...For your legacy to be one of complete and utter destruction, monuments beyond anything imaginable to the human mind at that time? To leave future generations with a weapon so terrible, so devastating that it was nearly unfathomable? ...The capability of ending all of humanity in its entirety, once and for all?"
For his part, Oppenheimer himself seemed to have mixed feelings on that matter. At one time, he seemed to take a certain degree of pride in his work, going as far as to lament the fact that his nuclear weapon was not available in time to be used on Nazi Germany. Yet, after the war, he had seemed to have been disturbed by the bombing of Nagasaki, having felt that the second nuclear bomb used was unnecessary. MGK, not much of a man of principle, always wondered what made the 2nd bomb so much worse than the first.
From a military standpoint, the answer was virtually obvious. The first bombing was a military tactic, designed to bring the war to an end much quicker than it otherwise would have. For the greater good, one might think. Sure, it would end something around 150,000 innocent lives, but mostly in hopes that it would save millions more from being lost instead. The second bomb, at least to Oppenheimer, felt like overkill. Do enough to defeat your enemies, but doing any more than that, to this legendary physicist, was immoral. Oppenheimer was later critisized for his conflicting feelings on the matter, and eventually was chastized for bemoaning the fact that he "had blood on his hands".
To MGK this was all extremely fascinating. For, much like President Roosevelt and President Truman, MGK felt that doing EVERYTHING in your power to bring your enemy to his knees was a paramount strategy. After everything he had been through with Doc, he had learned a crucial lesson: Don't just aim to defeat your opponent. Aim to beat him to death. Do this without hesitation, without mercy. Don't just burn him to the ground, burn the ashes as well.
War will always have its casualties. Deep down, MGK knew this, and in fact, a darker voice within him not only concured with this sentiment, but did so with a stunningly wicked amount of enthusiasm.
War.
Doc proclaimed that he was prepared to go to war. Well, so was MGK.
11:00 AM
As he sprinted through the woods on his property vast property in an isolated rural area, these persuasions swam through his mind. With every foot he moved forward, MGK tried to run faster and harder, pushing himself to identify his breaking point, and still sprint far beyond that. His tolerance towards pain needed to grow. His horizons needed to expand, not just in terms of dishing out violence, but receiving it as well.
He was in too deep at this point, and he knew, there was no turning back now.
As the trees seemingly flew past him on this dirt trail, his anger only grew, his resolve strengthening with each step he took. For every part of him that begin to tire and grow weary, there was another part of him that cried out with more rage and determination than before. MGK, as we were all made aware, is a lot of things. A "nice person" was simply not one of them. No matter how many times he had tried to convince himself that he had the capacity to be a kind and empathetic person, that dark voice from within always managed to prove him wrong at one time or another.
If he ever had a theoretical "Jiminy Cricket" begging him to "let his conscience be his guide", that naive and foolish cricket was stomped and beaten into silence by his overwhelming urge to maim, destroy, and conquer everything in his path, until there was nothing left to fight for.
He wasn't stupid. He could look in the mirror of his mind's eye, and understand fully that in some ways, he was deteriorating. MGK had lit the wick on the proverbial candle of his existance long ago, and for many years, he had been burning that candle at both ends. Years had past since he ever felt like he needed to carry the ball so fast and hard, but now, after all this time, here he was at it again. Maybe this was his way of subconsciously punishing himself for past sins. Or perhaps, this was his path to salvation. Even he couldn't be sure of the answer, and so he seemingly approached the matter from a different perspective each time it crossed his mind.
Maybe it was his unstable mental condition that created this great inconsistency in resolve. Whether or not this was the case, two facts remained: he WAS mentally unstable, slowly but surely unfurling on a public stage for the whole world to see, and he WAS inconsistent in his thoughts and beliefs. Some people saw this as a weakness, but deep down, MGK knew, this was just one of the many things that made him dangerous.
He would barely acknowledge these crucial facts publically; from his point of view, it was always obvious anyway, and anyone who couldn't see that was simply a dim wit.
His pattern of behavior throughout his career clearly illustrated this point. From the old XHF days forming the group Overdrive with his friends Cosmo and AJ Phoenix. Not long after, turning his back on each of them, one at a time. MGK was a snake, and he knew this. He was cunning, manipulative, and heartless. He was the type of man who would shake your hand and smile at you in one moment, but as soon as you turned your back, you were liable to feel a knife piercing straight through your heart from the rear. "Success and triumph, by any means necessary" was a motto that he directly applied to nearly every aspect of his life.
There were other examples beyond Overdrive. To him, even the fond memories of this once rebellious and degenerate group, all represented part of his evolution as a man. Sometimes he would back stab his friends for getting to close, becoming a prospective threat. Other times, he just did it for fun.
Did he feel shame for this? Did he feel guilt? Sometimes.
However, when you are fighting a war, there is no place for shame. No place for guilt. These are things to worry about when the war is over. A bridge to cross only after you've arrived. Men like J. Robert Oppenheimer knew this all too well, for it was only after that second bomb dropped in Nagasaki, that Oppenheimer seemingly was able to recognize the consequences of his "achievements". Before that, MGK always imagined, he was was simply a man on a mission. A man with a purpose. A man who knew that he couldn't afford the time nor the patience for things like guilt, shame, and regret. And, after all the despicable, inhumane things MGK had done throughout his wrestling career, he knew it, too.
He ran faster. It almost seemed as if he was stomping his feet into the dirt, attacking it with his running shoes. Cardio was a crucial part of his training regemine. It wouldn't be enough to be stronger than Doc, it wouldn't be enough to be more technically sound. He had to be quicker. He had to be more resiliant. In a Last Man Standing match, resiliency is often a deciding factor. And if MGK was to lose this match, and once again fall to Doc's feet in defeat, he didn't plan on doing so due to a lack of resilience. If he couldn't win this match, it had better have been because his legs were broken, his back was paralyzed, and his consciousness had departed, either temporarily, or hell, even forever. MGK had come back from injuries that no normal man could normally recover from. It was his goal to make damn sure that he was able to rise up no matter what Doc was going to throw at him now.
Faster, he ran. He could feel himself getting closer to the cliff, but he wasn't about to slow down. Not now. Not ever.
An hour later, MGK stands in his backyard, his clothes absolutely drenched in sweat. He is breathing heavily, as he stares off into space, into one of his latest trances. He's reached the end of his journey, at least the journey of the moment. The journey of reaching that breaking point. Even at the end of the road, though, he still can't see it. Eyes wide open, all he can see is the face of the man he yearns to destroy. All he can hear is Doc's voice. All he can think about, is what kind of mass destruction he will unleash upon his opponent in their Last Man Standing match at Showcase.
He doesn't plan to drop two nukes. Two nukes? Oppenheimer thought two nukes was extreme? Heh. Child's play. MGK plans to make Hiroshima and Nagasaki look like an act of mercy. He's going to drop one hundred nukes. Two hundred, if that's even possible. He is going to nuke Doc's entire existence, and when the smoke clears, he is going to fucking laugh about it. He isn't doing this for the greater good. He isn't doing this to prevent some unforeseen catastrophe. He is going to do this for his own sick and twisted pleasure. He's doing this so that he can take something from Doc, that he will NEVER get back. Hell, he's going to do it just to see the look on Doc's face when he realizes that finally, he's bitten off more than he can chew.
He stares off into the distance.
He breathes.
His body tells a story of exhaustion and weariness, but his eyes tell the story of War.
