Don't count me out

[Benjamin]

“CAW! CAW!”

The sound was deafening and quite unusual, especially for a setting such as this. Symphony, the first lady of House Syxx, perked her chin up at the sound of the noise. There were six people sitting at a long table. Three of them were hooded acolytes with presumably no identity. One of them was Seven, a tall, gothic, muscular, and familiar man who was named hand of the lord. At the end of the table in a massive throne-like chair was Syxx, the former EBWF Intercontinental champion and legend. Syxx motioned to Symphony as she began to stir.

Syxx: Well are you going to get that?

Symphony: It can’t be…

Syxx: It can.

Symphony: You didn’t actually…

Syxx: Of course not.

Symphony: I was about to say…

Syxx: Seven did it for me. You don’t think a lord of my distinction would soil myself with matters such as this did you?

Symphony rose and went to the door. As soon as she opened a big black bird flew in her face holding a scroll. The bird kept flying up and down obnoxiously until Symphony took the parchment from its mouth. The bird then flew away to who knows where. Symphony took the scroll and laid it on the table before Syxx. The cream golden crème colored scroll had a thin red lace holding it together with a black wax seal on the outside. The seal was pressed with the logo of the popular New Japan Pro Wrestling stable, the Bullet Club.

Syxx: A raven from Japan.

Symphony: You mean to tell me that this bird flew all the way over from Japan carrying this piece of paper!? You know there is such thing as email right?

Syxx ignored her, unrolling the scroll and reading its contents.

Uncle Syxx,

I can’t believe 2015 is almost over, soon winter will be here! I’ve done everything you told me. I am learning from some of the best in the world. We’re keeping the spirit alive for you, we all know that 2016 is a big year! I hope everything is too sweet.

- Cody

Syxx smiled and then was silent for a few moments whilst meditating on what he had just read.

Syxx: Very well. Master of coin, how fares our riches?

Syxx was referring to one of the three hooded acolytes, this one in particular was sitting just beside Symphony.

Master of Coin: We are amidst a bit of a depression, my lord. October was a fruitful affair, but we took a little bit of a hit after the F(6)ck Cancer duplets were taken off of EBWF shop.

Syxx: Well shit. Request clearance from the maester to work more live dates. A brother’s got to eat.

Master of Coin: Maester, my lord?

Syxx: Dr. Hope. Dumb ass. Master of Whispers, what say you?

The hooded acolyte sat right next to Seven spoke.

Master of Whispers: There is not a whole lot to report today, my lord. The realm of social media has been rather quiet of late. Well, that is, other than that troubling hashtag.

Syxx: What troubling hashtag?

Master of Whisper: I would not dishonor my lord by speaking it.

Syxx: Fucking say it, idiot.

Master of Whisper: The commoners have been making reference to you using #Jobbertaker, my lord.

Syxx: Very clever. I show up once in a great while and lose. Ha ha ha. Clever little dipshits. Master of Defense, you have council?

The acolyte sitting all the way across the table from Syxx spoke.

Master of Defense: We must devise a strategy do defeat Sir Sami of House Zayn, my lord.

Syxx: That guy again? They couldn’t give me an opponent a little less generic, eh? I traded a few victories with him and then somehow he managed to get the upper hand on me. I’ve been known to devour the souls of those that are unfortunate enough to encounter me in the ring but I fear due to Sir Zayn’s ginger disposition I suppose he wouldn’t have a soul. He has one hell of a kick, though. I have always respected those that could joust with all of the weapons in their arsenal. Hell of a knight, just a fugly little shit. I rather liked him a little better in his past life when I didn’t have to look at his face or hear him speak. Symphony, grab a parchment and write this down. I want Sir Zayn to know exactly where we stand.
Symphony got up and fetched a blank piece of paper and a quill. She then took her seat again directly to the left of Syxx and began writing his words down on the paper.

Sir Sami of House Zayn,

I respect you, I respect everything you bring to the table in this ring and only a fool would deny your capabilities…but I want you to know why you will fall. Your ascension has not fallen on deaf ears. It was only a year ago that you were just some punk commoner who couldn’t hang with this fleeting “old man” but eventually you could, and eventually you climbed to heights I have never achieved. You have won many battles and brought shame onto many great houses, but your decline is also well documented. Your decline mirrors mine own, in fact. It seems of late you can’t buy a victory, and neither can I. You want to know why you can not defeat me again? I have bided my time, and I am waiting here still…but the hour draws near. You are a knight of summer and winter draws near. You’ve been up and you’ve been down, but you have never been where I’ve been and in this current landscape it is unthinkable that you ever will. You may have been on top of the EBWF once but it does not make you a king for there is no kingdom to be had. You, like everyone else, just want to point to my age and write me off as a relic of the past when you know full well that I am not just old. I am seasoned. I am battle tested. I have faced greater men than you, I have lead greater men than you, I have DEFEATED greater men than you. An empire is not built in a day, and my victory over you will merely be a stepping stone in my descent. The more things change the more things stay the same and when you look deep into the history books you will see that things come and go in cycles. A fruitful harvest followed by a hopeful spring can only be followed by a long, prosperous summer. July 12, 1984 you were born of summer. You were born of summer, you smell of summer, you live of summer, but you will fall like the autumn leaves. You will fall and your body will become one with the earth. You know why? Because your ass is grass, and I’M GONNA SMOKE IT!

Let’s not get too carried away, though. I am, after all, an old man right? There couldn’t possibly be enough left in the tank to dispatch an upstart like you. Only a fool believes such empty rhetoric, no matter how often it is said. Remember that I am an infection, a cancer, a disease. History will clearly tell you that coming near me hasn’t done anyone much good in the history of ever. I’ve seen men like you and I’ve beat men like you and I will continue to beat men like you for many years to come. You couldn’t possibly say the same about me because there simply are not others in the word like me. There is an entire generation of kids these days who want to be just like me, do the things that I’ve done, be the place I’ve been, but it is simply not going to happen. Until a true lord rises the EBWF will be nothing but a playground. A place for little kids to run around and do their little backflips, say their little riddles, collect their little titles, and then wander off to obscurity. I come from a different era, an era of attitude and an era of power. Certainly you have heard of a few of my past affiliations, have you not? I’ve had a front row seat for some of the greatest moments in professional wrestling history. Do you really think that my time is done? That I am so unceremoniously going to be tossed aside without ever reaching the apex of our profession? There is it again. The black cloud that has been hanging over my head for oh so very long. I have never been a world champion and you have, Sami Zayn. You have been a world champion but know that that is the only thing that you have on me. I am cut from a superior cloth. I have survived and flourished in times that a kid like you would be lucky to get on the card. There is no doubt that you are good, but you simply are not good enough. We did go back and forth for a while and you were able to defeat me a few times but know that if it wasn’t for my indifference, that would never be possible. I’m a methodical snake in the grass, as stealthy as I am venomous. I have lead you all to believe so many things about me that are not true. I’ve lulled you all into a false sense of security but on this day I proclaim that the EBWF is not safe, and it will never be until I hang my boots up for good. That certainly won’t be after catching a boot to the side of my face from a vanilla upstart like you Sami Zayn. I am grateful for this opportunity to prove once and for all that I am the better man. If you continue to insist otherwise, well then I cordially invite you to moisten my genitalia.

In triumph,

Lord Syxx

Syxx: Did you get that?

Symphony gave Syxx an “Are you kidding me?” kind of look.

Symphony: What comes after “I respect you?”

Syxx: Oh for fuck’s sake…

The scene fades.

[Will]

Does Syxx love Game of Thrones?

[Benjamin]

No but his handler does, lol.