Post by Deleted on Feb 17, 2017 0:04:18 GMT -5
As I walked the sidewalks of Springfield, my surroundings glowed in the orange haze of the sunset. Even as the sun escaped the sky beyond the horizon, I kept walking. At the end of this quiet stroll, I found myself standing right in front of Abraham Lincoln’s tomb framed by the starry night sky.
“The real deal--arguably one of the greatest Presidents in the history of these United States. Seems appropriate, given that President’s day would be a mere twelve hours after my first Championship defense, to visit Honest Abe himself. What would you have to say about ‘alternate facts’ Abe? I wonder if you’d be happy about turn the ‘Grand Old Party’ has taken?”
If you’ve lived your life underneath a rock, you might not know that Abraham Lincoln was sent to this tomb thanks to a bullet fired from a gun wielded by John Wilkes Booth.
I heard myself say, “Sic semper tyrannis.”
Booth screamed this phrase right after killing Honest Abe--it’s Latin--a shortened version of ‘Sic semper evello mortem tyrannis’ which means: Thus Always, I bring death to tyrants.
“Seems we all have tyrants in our lives,” I scoffed.
Honestly, trying to fit my own problems into those of dead Presidents and tyrannical President-Elects turned dictators, seemed awfully shallow. Still, Dom Lawson had revealed himself to be a tyrant and would have to be dealt with as such.
“I thought he was a simple loudmouth who had no respect for himself and liked to toss around the F-word a lot. I thought he was just a guy who had underestimated me and convinced himself that victory was assured.”
I heard myself laugh.
“These guys always have to say they’re going to win. So insecure. I guess I had him all figured for a simple kind of tyrant. I thought we’d share the ring and it’d be pretty straight forward. Suddenly he changed everything by showing me something I didn’t expect. He showed me who he really was.”
I approached the bust of Lincoln and stood there staring into its dark empty eyes.
I said it again, “Sic semper tyrannis.”
Thus always to tyrants.
“For a moment, just a moment, I felt upset. I won’t lie to you. For one moment I actually considered meeting Lawson on his own level. I was ready to descend. I mean, sure, make fun of me and Tony. That’s cool. Go to town with your elementary school level humor, but he should have left Kassandrah out of it. Still, at the same time, he revealed himself to me.”
Besides, I have never been the guy who goes below the belt; I never will.
“God’s honest truth? When I looked at Dom with those fake sunglasses hiding his eyes, that fake wig; pretending to be the Resilience Champion, I realized something. It wasn’t that Dom felt he needed to poke fun at me. Nah. It wasn’t about that and he knew it. It wasn’t even about making a mockery of Tony Chu and Kassandrah. None of that factored in.”
Had it factored in, he would have tried harder than that. I mean, I’d hope he would. Ultimately, he should have consulted me. Nobody’s better at making fun of Dare Clemmens, than, well, Dare Clemmens.
Anyway…
“Think about it: While Dom was suffering defeat at the hands of a man he will never respect by the name of Benny Stevens, he got to look on while I, another man he’ll never respect, won the championship. The same championship he couldn’t walk away with, when opportunity was handed to him. Dom Lawson is at an all time low in his career. Of course he wanted a break. For a moment, Dom got to step outside of his own skin. For a moment, Dom finally got to stop being Dom Lawson. He got to pretend to be the guy--the Champion.”
I felt a smirk growing and I didn’t bother trying to hide it.
“He got to be...Dare Clemmens.”
I couldn’t help myself, I turned around and leaned my face next to the bust of Lincoln. I pulled my phone out and took a quick selfie, before returning to stare at Abe.
“I think it’s pretty fun, being me. It’s a good thing too, because I can’t be anyone else, now can I? There’s more to this ‘being Dare Clemmens’ thing, though. When you look at the life Dom has lead, you find that he has been met with nothing but strife. He’s come close a number of times in his life, but he’s failed to evolve past the kid who barely got out of Belfast alive all those years ago. He’s stuck and really, deserves sympathy.”
I stopped myself from continuing.
“No. He’s officially had his sympathy rights revoked. Let’s look at the facts and only the facts. Dom Lawson has no identity beyond that of an aimless potential alcoholic who is swirling the ‘has-been’ drain and he knows it. Sad part is, he won’t do anything about it. Instead, he just tries to bite my style and copy my game. That’s fine. The sad thing is, when he applied my ‘formula’ to me, he was, in actuality, applying the formula to this skewed version of who he thinks I am. He hasn’t taken the time to figure me out, but I find myself in this position of knowing how ‘sad but true’ Dom Lawson really is. He just expects me to hand him the title.”
I took a step back and turned my attention towards the night sky and that phrase entered my mind again… Sic semper tyrannis… My attention turned back to the sad dark eyes of our sixteenth President.
“Lawson is a tyrant who hurts only himself. In the quiet and dark of night, he cannot sleep soundly. The void inside him doesn’t allow him peace. He cannot accept the truth of the man he’s become.”
I felt one splash of rain hit my cheek.
“He’s become the oppressive tyrant--ruling over the box which he has trapped himself within.”
Sic semper tyrannis.
END.