Cid Turner vs. Chad Evans

[Ace]

2 RP Limit for singles

Deadline: 11:59:59 pm ET Saturday, January 23, 2021

[Cid]

Avalanche

[Ace]

Watching. Waiting. I would almost say hoping but I am far too old to even pretend like hope is a real thing. I am a man without purpose, driven by nothing more then bitterness as I slowly watch one thing I used to think I respect kill the image I once held in higher esteem in my head.

It means nothing but I have no other real purpose in life. Maybe I should thank him for giving me something to do when I've finally awakened him to the reality that there is absolutely nothing in this world left for him and some semblance of real thought is finally allowed to start going back into that thick childish skull. Then he can thank me. Maybe he'll kill himself and I can at least remember him how I'd want to remember him, not as this troll thing that pretends to represent Cid Turner. Probably for the best.

Maybe he won't. At least he'll stop this charade. That's all I want. That's all I really need.

Just for him to stop the fucking charade. It's not asking for much. It would be better for all parties involved. Just let it die.

[Ace]

"What is this?"

I am not really sure how I am expected to respond without profanity. There is no longer time in this world for being coy or cute.

"What does it look like?" I ask in response, unable nor caring to hold back my evident annoyance in tone.

"A human-sized condom?" I can hear him shuffling around in the background, I am assuming further inspecting it. He wanted to meet in person but I made that mistake the first time. The smell was terrible. "Can I even fit in this thing?"

"You have a week to figure it out, idiot. Just starve for a week if you have to, you'll be fine."

"Wait- this, is my mentor's costume! So wait, am I really going to get to compete in the big leagues?! This is awesome! I can be a star again! Wait- but, this is just going to be embarrassing. I am going to get my ass kicked. I am out of shape, I am-"

"You aren't very bright, are you?"

"I don't know, I am pretty white. I light up like really well in light, when I step outside during the day you couldn't miss me. Like, so bright, so white-"

I can't stop myself from acting. Just, his voice, the choice in words. Everything about this man disgusts me. Of course he looked up to Cid Turner once. Maybe he still does. The level of idiocy, it's everywhere, it's never going away. Why can't the world just-

I am interrupted by my phone ringing. I consider ignoring it. Maybe I'd be better off going with something else. I can find someone else that is in possession of more then five brain cells, maybe that would be optimal.

But that isn't really the point, is it? I just want it to hurt. I want the man to be infuriated and to really sink into the hopelessness that is his endeavors. He is fighting something he could never win against. It should be apparent to him. It's apparent to me, it's apparent to everyone else. They just cheer him on because they are sheep.

But they don't care about him like I do. That impression of him in my mind. He is taking that away from me. So if I have to deal with one fuckwit to crush the spirit of another. It's a small price to pay. Sighing I lift the phone up to my ear before answering it.

"Yes."

"Dude, what is the last thing you remember me saying? I feel like I was really getting somewhere in the conversation before I realized you accidentally hung up on me. This could be so awesome, like-"

Nevermind.

"Do you want the money?"

He paused, clearly trying to process words and how to respond. It was hard. I imagine this man defecated and pissed himself on a sub daily basis.

"Well yeah, I love money! They used to call me Dee Money! I am-"

"Just, shut. The. Hell. Up. Put on the fucking costume and be at the arena when I told you to be there. You have one fucking job. Do it. It's not complicated. Write a list, call your mother or whichever care provider you have taking care of you from the state. I don't give a shit. Don't call me again."

Hanging up I look around. Up at the clock hanging over the wall by the shelves I groan. It's four o'clock. Out in the hallway I can hear a television. A baby screaming. A woman on another phone laughing giddily. My phone goes off, the idiot was trying to call me back. I power it off. I'll change the number later.

I have nothing else to do now. Just wait. I am forced to consider the least aggravating way I can spend the rest of the day. I was in the process of training a new maid. She was not very happy when she in fact one day had to wipe my ass for me simply because I decided that was part of her job now. This was but a minor joy, I'll grow bored of her too and then what?

I picture a world of mass suicide. I picture a black hole wiping us all away. Sadly these are all fantasies in my head. Reality is far too cruel. I'll just be riding out the clock like everyone else.