A King Begins His Journey

(It’s 6:00 AM.  The sun rises, it bright rays shining on the face of a now awake King Matt.  Rising from his royal bed, placing back on the bed his royal stuffed elephant George, Matt looks out the window, with a smile as wide as the field in the backyard.  He likes this place, but he knows it is not truly befitting of royalty.  The bed’s cloth is quite rough, the springs old and rusted, and the pillow containing almost nothing.  The wooden floor has begun to decay, with bits of food and dirty clothes littering the floor.  His wall has gone from a majestic blue to a rather droll grey, another sign of decay.  He also believed that a king’s bedroom shouldn’t be this small, as he knew 10 kings feet by 10 queens feet is just too small.)  

(What’s worse, this was the full extent of his “kingdom,” with the rest of the house being owned by Sal Cubas, his advisor.  He harbored no resentment for Sal, he earned his lifestyle, but Matt knew this must mean HE, King Matt, never earned the life of a king.  If he never earned a king’s life, why was called a king?  He had been called one as far back as he could remember, same as his career as a wrestler.  It confused him, as he always had brief flashbacks to his time as king.  Crowds gathered to see him talk, decree, and conquer mountains.  And yet, there was something about it.  Something he only noticed three months ago: it was different then, somehow.)

(He decided it was better not to think about it, that the more he looked into his history, the more often he would be beset by migraines.  So he crossed the thought out of his mind.  Still, he would like better living accommodations, more fitting for royalty.  That’s why he was going into CMV Fusion.  He hoped that perhaps he could obtain enough funds to finance his lifestyle, even if it required a lot of time and effort.  Appealing to his loyal subjects, it was always his goal, always his method for success.)

(He gets dressed, takes his shower, and walks out of the royal bedroom, down the hall, filled with pictures of Sal’s family.  King Matt has met them all.  Sal kept dragging him to his insufferable family reunions, until one where Sal’s brother Duncan questioned his royalty quite rudely, leading to a brawl in the kitchen.  He walks down the stairs, and instantly notices Sal typing on the living room couch.  It seems that even when he’s forced out of his working chambers, or the basement, he still must work on his laptop.  Sal hears Matt walking down the stairs, saves his latest chapter, and powers his laptop down.  He’s wearing his best suit and tie, his hair grey hair is combed back, and his small glasses contrast heavily with his tall figure.  Last time he was measured, he had gone down to 6’9.  Still an imposing figure, but not quite what it used to be, especially since he’s quite slender.  Sal gets up from the couch and turns to Matt.  His eyes are wrinkled, with large bags underneath.)

KING MATT: SAL, PLEASE TELL ME YOU DID NOT STAY UP THE ENTIRE NIGHT WRITING!!!

SAL CUBAS: Alright, I won’t tell you.

KING MATT: SAL CUBAS, IT’S EXTREMELY UNHEALTHY TO BE UP TWO HOURS PAST BEDTIME, LET ALONE THE ENTIRE NIGHT!!!  ESPECIALLY FOR SOMEBODY IN THEIR SIXTIES!!!

(Sal yawns, and turns towards his laptop)

SAL CUBAS: Heh, guess time really does fly when you’re putting time into something you enjoy.

(Matt, filled with a combination of frustration and fear, recoils)

KING MATT: SAL, THE PLANE ARRIVES TO TAKE ME TODAY!!!  

SAL CUBAS: Calm down your majesty, I just need a bit of coffee is all.

KING MATT: JUST A BIT OF COFFEE?!!  THAT BLACK LIQUID CAN’T UNDO AN ENTIRE NIGHT’S DAMAGE!!!  YOU’LL DRIVE INTO A TREE AND KILL US!!!

(Sal shakes his head, walking towards the kitchen to prepare his coffee.)

SAL CUBAS: If it had enough caffeine, I’d drink Dr. Pepper instead.  Hey, while I’m getting set, could you go and take your medication?

(King Matt begins to stare at the pill bottle, dreading it, just like every other day.  He begins to think out of desperation)

KING MATT: SAL, I HAVEN’T SEEN A SINGLE DEMON, GHOST, GOBLIN, OR CARTOON CHARACTER IN THE LAST YEAR!!!  SURELY I DON’T NEED THE MEDICATION!!!

(Sal, preparing his coffee, facepalms)

SAL CUBAS: Matt, the medication is why you haven’t seen those things.  Stop taking the pills, and they’ll start appearing again.

(Matt grows frightened, fearing the pills like most men fear death itself.)

KING MATT: BUT I FEEL EXCELLENT!!!  REALLY, I’M JUST FINE!!!  IN FACT, I’M SO FINE, I DON’T THINK I HAVE ANY PROBLEMS WHATSOEVER!!!  NOTHING AT ALL!!!  NOTHING IS WRONG WITH ME!!!

(Sal just looks at Matt with a cold gaze.  Matt relents, and walks towards the pills.  He takes the pills, shaking, shivering as he chugs the tablets down with water.  Sal finishes preparing his coffee, and then drinks it all in one shot.)

SAL CUBAS: You got everything packed?

KING MATT: OF COURSE I DO!!!  I DO NOT WISH TO DELAY!!!

SAL CUBAS: Clothes, food, spare medication,  and utilities.  Got all that?

KING MATT: YES!!!  I HAVE IT ALL!!!

SAL CUBAS: Then let’s get moving.

(The drive to the airport was uneventful, with the only thing going through King Matt’s being what royal analogy he could use for his move to CMV.  He soon realized the perfect analogy was The Crusades.  Travelling to a distant land, embarking on a holy quest, made only more clear by some idle conversation with Sal.)

SAL CUBAS: By the way, and I’ve been meaning to tell you, there’s apparently a second royal rumble happening at their next ppv, Absolution.  Their Undisputed Championship is on the line.

KING MATT: REALLY?!!  COULD IT BE SO?!!

SAL CUBAS: Yep.  Seems the new champ got a bit cocky from what I hear, said he could take the whole roster.  Kids in wrestling got too much arrogance.  Then again, the champ didn’t whine or get mad, he just said ok.  I do got to give the guy credit.  He’s got balls to be sure.  Still, 1 vs 29 doesn’t seem too good as odds.  There will probably be a new champ after the show.

KING MATT: IT’S DESTINY!!!  TO GAIN THE CROWN AT THE ROYAL SHOW!!!  IT’S TOO PERFECT!!!

SAL CUBAS: Might be.  Remember that 1 vs 29 thing.  While I wouldn’t count you out on entering, good luck winning.  

(Matt folds his arms and looks down at the floor.)

SAL CUBAS: Then again, if you DO pull off this miracle, you’ll be able to get this lifestyle of yours faster.  From what I understand, World Champions, even former ones, get paid more.  So by all means, shoot for the moon.

(These thoughts raged inside of him all the way to the airport, the beautiful thought of winning it all on a royal stage.  He could practically smell the gold.  He could see himself wearing it.  He could hear the people, his loyal subjects singing his praises, crying out “ALL HAIL KING MATT, ALL HAIL KING MATT!!!”  Perhaps then he could understand why he has that name.)

(The airport was a crowded mess.  King Matt saw all these people crammed into these lines, all with somewhere to be.  Matt feared he had been lacking this, this sense of purpose.  Finding the plane wasn’t difficult.  It was a rusted old hunk of metal, likely only a short time away from decommissioned.  Matt saw this as repugnant, but quickly realized how horrid the travelling conditions were for the crusaders of old.  This was meant to be.  So, he said his goodbyes to Sal and, with a fire in his eyes, boarded the plane hopeful of his success in CMV Fusion, beginning with a man known for his own analogies.  This journey would start with a man named Bloody Justice.)