Somewhere in the sprawling desert, not too far from Las
Vegas, at Red Rock Canyon, we pan down from a skyward angle downwards, and find
Chamelion, in blue jeans, green shirt and yeah, a white cowboy hat to
boot, kneeling on top of one of the smaller
ancient sand dunes, his fingers
sketching lines in the lose dirt. He
looks up, his face dusty, but his grin ever
“I love coming here.
It’s beautiful, serene and yet it suggests massive power. It’s a good place to come and reflect over
things, both good and bad.”
Standing, he slaps
the dust from his blue jeans and straightens out his dark green shirt, the
collar slightly ripped on the left. He
removes his hat to wipe sweat from his brow before replacing it.
“A different look then you’re used to seeing? I know.
But when I come out here, I just kind of get into that
mood. The mood to embrace the old
days, way out here in the west.. where
all your scores were settled with a six shooter at your side.”
Easing him down
off the formation of jagged rock, Chamelion leans against it for a moment.
“I can’t exactly just go and shoot down my opponents,
Deathsun and Fallen Angel.. that
just wouldn’t be sporting… although, it would be highly entertainen! Nah, besides, it’s more humane to euthanize that dog, Fallen Angel, then to just put a bullet into his
head. Truth is, I may not have to even
worry about it, cause Deathsun himself, has dealt the
killing blow… and even if three men will show up to battle, there’s only two
that have any chance of walking out victorious.”
Pause, then
Chamelion scoffs.
“And that’s giving Deathsun a bit too much credit,
anyway. As is stands, the old boy handed
to me, on a silver platter, all the ammo I’ll ever need to put him down. Ironic that we both use
that term, but it’s fitting in this situation. Ya see, Kiddo.. to fully be able to stand there and stake a claim that
you’re going to be the best, you have to remember NOT to contradict yourself so
terribly!”
Cracking his neck,
Chamelion steps away from the rocks and begins to walk along a sandy path.
“What was it you said to me, the first time? You questioned why I didn’t give you a
rematch you said you deserved? I, in
turn, said the higher ups wanted a match more worthy of a PPV… that you were
insignificant in the vast majority of things.
So, what do you do? You come back and say you wanted nothing to do with
the company anymore! Trying to paint a
backbone on an earthworm there, aren’t ya kiddo? No, you left because you couldn’t accept that
you were beaten.”
“And like it or not, you were. Here’s how it stands, so clean the wax out of
your ears and listen good. I won that
match, I became world champion. It
means, like it or not, you lost. You
have the excuse that I pinned Showtime, and not you. But that is exactly all it is; an
excuse. You didn’t score the pin, you didn’t
beat Showtime and you didn’t beat me. I
walked out champion that night, not you.
So, whether you call it a bullshit match, or the world’s greatest event
ever, the bottom line remains the same.
Besides, if we look back to earlier in the night, didn’t you get
yourself DQ’d? Just to avoid losing to me then?
Yeah, thought so.”
Turning past a
towering pillar of stone, we spot Chamelion’s new car. Finally, he’d received his order of a new
dark green 2005 Ford Mustang. He walks
towards it, but slowly.
“Now, as for VDP. You invited me in,
cause of the reasons you stated. But
once in, who was it that was leading VDP by the nose? Yeah.
‘Sides, Kiddo.. how
can you say you set me up, used me and then tossed me away? I joined, I became champion, you left.. I think you’re the one in need of a reality check. Better yet, why don’t we just shove a hose up
your ass and pour some common sense into your brain that way?”
“I like how everyone loves to drive home that I was beaten
by a girl. Fact is,
Lisa’s no girl. I mean, has anyone
really tried to check under her skirt?
She and Wild Chyld had a thing going, now she’s with Protean.. Lesbo or gay, fact is she’s got some talent in the
ring. I’ve never disputed that. Now, would someone take the time to remind
Thunderwolf he also got bested by a chic?
Really.”
“Now, let me comment more
directly about my matches with Lisa.
Yes, I lost. I admit it. You, on the other hand, continue to promote
the excuse that I beat Showtime, in lieu of you. Neither of us got the job done in our
respective matches, I’m just more man to admit it. Now, you go fight Lisa… and let’s see how
well YOU fair, K?”
Reaching
the car, Chamelion turns and leans against the door.
“I get tired of this game of; “I’m telling you why you did
this, and you can’t tell me why I did what I did” deal. Meaning, you comment I chickened out of your
fed? Ever think that maybe you’re just a
little too boring to be around? I didn’t
NEED to come looking for you, I’d already bested you. You didn’t come looking for me cause you were too afraid that the next time, there’d be no
Showtime to take the fall for you.”
“Whoah, but hold on.
This could be your lucky day!
We’re in another triple threat match!
You may yet hold a chance to escape without being pinned. I mean, hell, if I can best Showtime.. Fallen Angel can’t be that much of a contender, now can
he? Guess that puts you in a tough spot,
doesn’t it? Here I have two options, two
men, that I can beat and walk away the winner. But you? Well, if you ever want to say you really beat
the most devious SOB in the business today, you’ve got just the one option.”
His grin widens as
we pan in close.
“You gotta beat ME! GOT IT?”
With a tip of his
hat, Chamelion hops into his Mustang, revs it up and drives off into the
sunset.
Fade.