I still don't get where this is going Steve...

Steve finally depresses the stop button.

Stop. Two hours. The point of this was, Ichabod, to let you see into the mind of your opponent. This is always a great preparation for a battle.

Running in circles?

Yes. You had to see what it was like to be Rage and to have his career. Plus, running is a great cardiovascular exercise. So, how do you feel?

Frustrated, a little pissed. This seems stupid.

Precisely. Rage's inner turmoil stems from his inability to advance, not only in this business, but in society, even in life. This makes him very frustrated, and very pissed. He feels stupid, and therefore must take his anger out on those he fights. If you understand this, then you can use it to your advantage.

I see. Well, his strength can very well be turned into his weakness. Another thing I have noticed is his lack of intelligence. His insults are so contrite and used up that they don't even phase people. Lets start with the name calling. Long has it been since last I heard someone use someone's name as an insult by simply rewording it or misspronouncing it. Gone are the days of calling Bigg Wafer "Pigg Waffle" and the like. Yet he continues with this Ichaballs, Itchabitch thing. Never have I heard someone so dedicated to that outdated method of insult. Its so uneducated and proves his lack of intelligence. Also he succombs to the age old stereotype of rednecks as imbreds. I can't count on my fingers and toes how many times I've heard people say that I sleep with my sister, even though I don't have one, and other imbred jokes. Its used up, its over, and its forgotten, and much like his own importance, Rage is the only person who still believes in it. But, like the whole menthol cigarette issue he wants to bring up, none of that really matters does it?

At this point Deidre speaks up.

This is yet another example of his lack of intelligence. He believes things like sexual preference and choice in brands of cigarettes will tell him your skill in the match. Sexy Strong Man, a known fag, was a great wrestler. Things like this do not play into a mans skill in the ring. On the other hand, intelligence does. If Rage is too stupid to know his ass from a hole in the wall, how the hell will he know his way around a ring?

Let us not forget that he has an impressive standing record in this fed. 4-2.

Another thing which means less to me than Selena. He has never wrestled anyone of my caliber before. He has never seen what it means to have a pretty even record, because you wrestled the best and lost and won some. That is actually something to be proud of, when you have wrestled people better than you and lost and won, but still put up a damn good fight. The only thing in this match that matters is my will for what I am going to do to Rage. I come to every show with intention to do harm. I'm like a ticking time bomb and normal people see me and faint. You can call yourself the dark force and act all evil, but I am the real pure evil here. Hell I'll push a baby carriage into the street until its mince meat. So bring who you are gonna bring on, I'll knock them all to kingdom come. I love scuffles, just to fight I'll knock the shit out of you with a broken wrist. I'll suffocate your ass for just looking at me, then come back and fuck up your pall bearers and make them drop your coffin. If you piss me off enough I'll drop you to the mat twenty times and never pin you until you bleed and are unconcious. I'll spill gasoline on your ass and light my menthol Newport and flick it at you, then hold up a picture of your family and throw it at you. You think you know me but you're not me and know nothing. I'll cripple you and that group of hypocrites you call a stable. I'll beat you Rage and tie you up and choke you with my bear hands. I'm past my yearly limit in body counts. Hell i think I'll up the limit by seven just to fuck you and your friends up. You talk too damn much about shit you don't know shit about, and still don't say shit. I'm the fuckin Instigator and I got all this shit started with Selena just to drag your pathetic ass all over the ring, crowd, arena, and parking lot. There ain't nobody here worse than me when it comes to violence. Listen carefully to my words you asshole. You like prophecies, you and your Brother Brimstone, my words are the prophecy of your doom. No one can stop me, and you are just another notch in my belt. You are a fuckin loser who waits for better people to bitch slap your ass back to the locker room where your buddies can lick your wounds while the rest of us laugh at you. Usually i commend my opponents and tell them I respect them and look foward to the challenge they will bring to the ring. But not this time. I look down on you and see nothing but a loser searching for another heavyweight to lay that arm across his chest for the three count. You are the dissappointment to the dissappointing Dark Force, like a cancer on the face of AIDS or something. You are a diseased ape in a barrel of monkeys running around trying to decide where their place is in the world, under the guise of working for God. I'm ready for this match, I wish it was tonight you little shit because i can't wait to wrap my hands around your chicken neck and wring it till the officials have to drag me off of you. You act angry now and use that for your name, but soon we are all going to know you as Fear, like my theme music, because when are sixteen feet in the air on my shoulders about to be dropped in the Euphoria and it hits you how much pain you are about to experience, the fans will watch your eyes bug out and hear you scream in terror. And let me tell you something you little son of a bitch, if you piss your pants on me, I'll kill you. Damn, I'm not that damn scary. Get your strategy down and get your mind set, because I swear to God if you don't bring me 110% in that ring on Ruffhouse, I'm going to beat you to death. Don't think I'll go easy on you just because I feel sorry for you. I hate you, and just because you are pathetic, that doesn't mean I am going to lighten up. So prepare for the end, ya fucking choad.

Deidre finishes up her katas and comes over to Ichabod.

Come on Ichy, lets go grab some aussie food.

Outback it is. Steve?

I'll catch up. Got some shit to do. See you guys later.

Ichabod and Deidre head out waving goodbye to Steve. Steve opens the closet door and rolls out about six barrels. Its a damn huge closet. The barrels are black and orange and have biohazard labels on them.