~So don't cry to me ohhh baby. Your future is in a Oblong Box!~

"A week off...how thoughtful."

We fade in on a room full of mirrors. Each one of them cracked showing odd angles. A single chair sits in the middle. A figure in the dark walks out and sits. We see from the outline that it is Ataxia. Then we see something odd. The figure reaches up and pulls off the mask. The mirrors reflect this, but we cannot see any distinguishing features.

"I need to win apparently to keep the dreams and hopes of me winning the world title alive right? What is the fucking point right? I mean we got all of these people fighting so hard for something that is not ever going to be of any use. Because when I am done that title will only be associated with one thing. Destruction. Pure. Unbridled destruction. This week I fight a delusional man...and coming from me. That is saying a lot. He calls himself a savior. He calls himself a moral figure. I call him exactly what he is. A coward. Because he fears life. And because he fears how people are at the moment he wants to control them by praying on those fears. Let me ask you a question here Hoyt...you're playing a game of chess and someone throws a hand grenade into your crotch. Does it still matter who wins the game?"

Ataxia holds the sack like mask in his hands looking down at it.

"You judge me, but you do not know me. You like to sit back and tell me who I am and what I've done like you know me. You think anyone cares what a sinner like you thinks of "The Messiah Pariah"? You sit back claiming to be a savior well where were you when I had my mind messed with to the point where I couldn't tell friend from foe? Where were you Hoyt? Oh yeah. Worrying about people being PC. You want to talk to me about language when you won't even stand up for what is right. You run from me because you are afraid of me, not because of what you know I will do to you, but because deep down Hoyt...you know you can't beat me."

Ataxia starts to tear at the mask in his hands.

"I mean here I could make a joke about nailing you somewhere but I don't waste the good material on crappy wannabe cowards that don't know what the heck they are doing in the ring. You want to talk to me about salvation and doing things "your" way, but when you can't even wrestle properly Hoyt...maybe you need to worry about that more so than someone's soul since you are a wrestler. Always talking so high about your Japanese thing. I don't get this. I guess every fanboy thinks that japan is the place to do everything and if you don't train there you don't have any street cred in professional wrestling. I'd say that's the dumbest thing I have ever heard of, but then again we have all seen the result of the twenty sixteen election. You must really be enjoying this tournament thou. It has all the hibachi flavor of that place at the mall that you can eat subpar food at for five bucks on your lunch break and have it loosen your bowels later in the evening for twenty minutes of pure soy sauce scented flatulence."

Ataxia stands up and we see angles of the tuxedo on the mirrors and the mask. Torn. Broken. Bleed thru. We start to see one thing on the face. The eyes. The red iris glaring at us with murderous intent.

"I want you to win Hoyt. I want you to get to the world title match. I want you to find some way to actually earn it. I want you to get to that point because you'll think for once, in your subpar minimalistic efforted life, you have earned something. Then...it'll all go away in a puff of smoke and ash. I will salt the earth where this place stands and the question is Hoyt. Do you stop me? Do you save me? Do you save us all?...or do you hide like you always do behind your book. Allow me to give you a quote Hoyt...One you might not know since it's not in your cliff notes for the most edited and misused book in history. Ataxia Chapter One, Verse One...Even if I lose...I still win. This is only going to end one way Hoyt. Win. Lose. Doesn't matter...This ends with Jaiden's head on a pike and you crying over the only place dumb enough to keep asking you back to wrestle here with your cowardly self. Don't like it. Prove me wrong. Actually stand up for something Hoyt...or get out of my way. I'd laugh at you at this point, but nothing about you is funny...it's just pathetic. And I wrote this specifically for your G rated self just to prove a point. I don't have to be myself to beat you...I just enjoy it more. Hah...Hah...HAH!"

All the glass shatters in an explosion and when the debris clear the only thing we can see is the mask floating over the camera lens. Fade to static...

Fin