A new day, a fresh start, as we find ourselves back at the Sommers Gym.  Already out of his shower and dressed, Chamelion puts the finishing touches on his travel bag before he sets out to the airport for his trip to Dayton, Ohio.  Whistling to himself, it takes a few moments before he notices our presence.  Turning, Chamelion’s eyes widen slightly, as if surprised, but he quickly shares his Cheshire Grin with us.

 

“Ah, hey, didn’t see you there.”

 

Zipping the bag closed, Chamelion hoists it over his shoulder.

 

“I don’t have a whole heck of a lot of time, my cab will be here any moment.  Before I scram, I wanted to cover a few more things about Rose, get some things off my chest.  Before I do that, though, I gotta ask the BWF; what IS it with everyone airing promos showing parts of their matches from Wrestlefest?  Seems to be the fad this week!”

 

Walking to the front entrance, he drops the travel bag on the floor and leans against the wall.

 

“When I told you to look up my history, kiddo, I kind of meant about here in the BWF.  It doesn’t bother me that you went ‘outside the box’ and checked out my old HiC and short-lived AWE days, that’s actually cool.  Not too many would take the time, and energy to.. umm. Google me!  Just don’t ever claim to know more about me then I do, cause that’s just lame.”

 

Snickering, Chamelion continues.

 

“However, I have no history to which to check up on you.  You entitled your last promo; “My Rich History” which leads one to believe you would talk about yours.  Aside from a generic listing of types of matches you’d been in; all of that history was, indeed, mine.”

 

“You called MINE rich, but like I said last time; you barely scratched the surface, only enough to get some dirt under your nails… and you call that dirt my best? My worst?”

 

Squinting his eyes, a hint of disgust crosses his features.

 

“So, the best course of action for me, would be to go onto the web and seek out your ‘rich history, just as you suggested,  get to know you more so I could understand what you’re made of, what you’re capable of.”

 

“Here in lies the problem! I typed in Rose, and his list of federations he claims to have been in, and you know what I get?  Gardening tips, Record Albums and Medication prescriptions!  Not exactly open with your past, now are you kiddo?  What do you have to hide, or, more importantly; what have you made up?”

 

“Is your history even real?  I did challenge you to explain to me what a “Sectional Champion” is, but I got nothing back.  I have to go into this match based on what I saw at the Monster’s Ball, and I can assure you; I’ve done a lot worse.”

 

Chamelion turns his head, looking out the glass paned window and notices the arrival of the taxi.  He swoops up his bag, smile firmly back in place.

 

“Ball’s in your court now, Rose.  You can either dig further in, discover more about me or go in blind.  I don’t have that luxury, but it really doesn’t matter. I’ve seen your kind before, I’ve confronted it and I’ve beaten it; time and time again.  I promise to take you seriously for the duration of our encounter, but when it’s over? When the final bell tolls?  My legacy will continue to grow, and yours?  Yours will continue to be a myth. GOT IT?”

 

Slinging the bag over his shoulder, Chamelion walks out the door, and it swings shut as we fade out.

 

 

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