Our True Selves

This is a sight we've seen before, a world of blue water underneath a sky of frigid ice. The water is completely still, the entire world serene and unmoving. Dead in a beautiful way.

But nothing beautiful lasts forever, and the sky breaks apart with thunderous, violent impact. A human shape falls and rolls, submerged in the dark water as we see every muscle, every bicep and every ugly bruise and scar below the neck even as the figure remains still and unmoving for a few moments. The rushing of underwater sound surrounds us and passes us by, but eventually that too comes to a standstill.

Suddenly, we're no longer in the water, instead we're in a dark concrete room, and in front of us is a metal bin, something big and powerful, and we're just in the right position to see an explosion of ice and water, as a Herculean form erupts from that metal container with a sudden gasp of air. We're behind this figure, and we see his long black hair flying backward and covering his neck and shoulders. Another cut and this time, we're seeing a pair of pectoral muscles, and dangling from a powerful neck at the top of the shot, dangles a gold crucifix. We don't see below the waist, our shot of whatever lies beneath the water is obscured by floating chunks of ice, the ones that didn't previously escape this...tub? This coffin?

That's not important, because although we can't see his face, we know that the masked man is speaking.

Jungle Jaguar: On one hand, we've been doing well for ourselves. Teddy Mac, Jungle Jaguar, we've been showing Wrestleworld what a unified team is supposed to be, showing everyone how champions, and architects, are supposed to conduct themselves. From our ladder match, to our recent dismantling of two gutless worms by the name of Drake And Jones, Teddy and I have been a force of nature sweeping through this island the way no storm or act of god ever has before. Those in power have tried to discredit us. Those in power have tried, and they have failed.

As Jaguar speaks, clips play off and on. Clips of the masked man and his partner tearing apart wrestlers. From the blackbird with the facepaint, to a parade of colorful characters in a carnival setting, to Claudia and the Professional and even to Drake And Jones most recently. It's a montage of suplexes and vicious looking power moves, of men and women being kicked and elbowed on the face, being dropped on their heads, being outwrestled and made to submit even when they aren't being absolutely destroyed by a wrestling dad with an absolutely disgusting looking arsenal of moves. Or at least, 'disgusting' in the sense that they're being driven into the mat skull-first, and getting a full grown man crashing into them from the top turnbuckle. The montage fades, and we're back with the man in the tub of ice and water. He splashes around here and there, shifting in the tub probably to find an area of his body that isn't bruised and battered. So far, no luck.

Jungle Jaguar: But not everything has been perfect. We've taken our lumps and our losses, yes, but that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking...

Jaguar looks away for a moment, or at least we feel like he is due to his neck turning one way.

Jungle Jaguar: Have you ever felt like you weren't yourself? Have you ever felt like you were somebody different inside of your own skin, as you watch a life that wasn't what you intended? When we climbed those ladders, and we took those belts for ourselves, it didn't feel real to me. I kept waiting for the sensation of being a champion to kick in, but it never happened. Life continued as usual, and before I knew it it felt like I had always been one-half of the tag-team champions. I came here to Wrestleworld to be the champion I always knew I was. To build a legacy for myself, to test my mettle against strong men and stand triumphant. Being part of a team...that was not part of my plan. Traveling with a partner, and sharing the glory with someone else, that was never the intention. It threw me off my rhythm, and I think you've all been able to tell. That I've been hanging back for a while now, I've been letting my partner do most of the heavy lifting. I haven't really been pulling my weight.

Jaguar's been looking away, but now he inhales deeply, and is looking straight ahead again even as he instinctively flexes his muscles as he speaks.

Jungle Jaguar: That's not happening going forward. We've got a melody in front of us, two women who have been eager for the gold we're wearing. It didn't go your way in Japan, and I know that's going to make the both of you eager to show that you belong in the conversation. Each of you have got the heart of a warrior. I know each of you have the spirit of a champion somewhere deep inside. But you need more than that. You need more than leglocks and armbars. You need more than drivers and necktie chokes. The two men we just fought, they gave everything they had to stop us. Tiberius Jones, he's scum who doesn't belong in a wrestling ring, but he fights like an ice cold killer and that wasn't enough. Drake Jaeger is one of the greatest physical specimens trapped inside the facade of a clown, but at By The Sword he was as serious as we'd ever seen him. That wasn't enough.

Sweet Melody, in order to beat the two of us you're going to have to bring something you've never brought before. Something you never brought against the Wild Cards, something you never brought against Red Zone District. I know it's somewhere inside you two, I know you have what it takes, but this business is a shark. It only ever moves forward. If you don't know how to bring the beast out of the man, you're going to have to figure it out on your own time and come back when you finally know what you see in the back of the mirror.

I want to emphasize, that this is not personal. I like both of you as people. But when you step into the temple there must be a winner and there must be a loser. The blood must run down the steps, and a heart must be offered to the gods. I know your hearts are that of a warrior's.

But that is not enough.