Slithering Snake Connection

The camera comes in the Supremacy finale for season six. The crowd is roaring with excitement, now part of CMV history. The white spotlights running throughout the arena turn purple as a familiar song begins to play: Line in the Sand.



Walking onto the stage comes one of the luckiest snakes in the world: Shay Hoxton. After both a war with Brett Angel and a brutal attack at the hands of Xander Slate, Shay Hoxton still has his head. The Gamble pauses on stage, funneling his ear to bask in the hatred of the crowd. This spite, this is his fuel, the tears of others that keeps his soul smiling. Rather than the venom of the usual CMV audience, he instead hears something else.

A cheer.

Confused by the reaction, a sneer grows on his face. He moves to the other side of the stage, a small limp in his step, and gives another listen.

Another cheer.

Whatever, this is the final Supremacy of the season, these crowds would cheer for you if you punted a grandma. Nothing wrong here, simply a case of Bizzaro World. Hoxton makes his way down the ramp, a spots a particularly skinny fan. He walks over to the man and gives him a flex, his tank top showing off both his bicep and chest very well, rubbing in what that toothpick will never have. Interestingly enough, the people in front of him, including the twig of a man himself, start taking pictures of Shay.

Hoxton starts uncomfortably walking away. Even Canada isn’t this backwards. These lunatics have taken the breath right out of Shay, who grabs a water bottle from another fan, steals a gulp, and throws the open bottle back at her. Prepared for an insult, or even a flying water bottle to the back, Hoxton braces.

Instead, all he hears is a laugh, along with an excited woo. The Gambler shakes his head, completely bewildered by these people, if you can even call them that. Out of it, he simply rolls into the ring as opposed to his typical grandiose entrance. He calls for the microphone, catching it midair. He brings it up, ready to speak, but is cut off by a sound he never expected to hear in CMV.

Hoxton! Hoxton! Hoxton! Hoxton! Hoxton!

Chants. For him. For Shay Hoxton. He simply listens, flabbergasted by this. He tries to wait it out, but they just refuse to shut up. Eventually enough is enough for the Gambler, he has to start sooner or later.

What the hell is wrong with you people?

Small bits of laughter can be heard throughout the arena, but the chants just don’t quit.

Shut it already. Do you want me to actually say something or am I supposed to just stand here all night?

While they continue for a few seconds longer, the chants especially die down. Shay lets out a sigh of relief.

Thank you. Christ, you people really don’t know how to do this whole, “Mob Mentality” thing, do you? You cheer for your golden little heroes, you support those who you look up to. You know, until you find out how the world really works. When you find out that there is no golden boy, there are no such things as heroes.

People are inherently evil things, that’s how we’ve lived, that’s how we’ve conquered. We just don’t like to admit it. Sooner or later, no matter how hard we want to hide from the truth, we have to learn the hard way that our fates are inevitable. People like Brett Angel, who fell a long time ago. People like Stefan Hasting, who fell recently. Even your little door to door, “Would you like some cookies?” boy scouts like Dante Tatum, no matter how bright their smiles may be today, will eventually get ground down by reality. Ground down to a sandy little pulp by the weight of the world.

I love you Shay!

Shay quickly whips behind him.

I don’t even know who you are!

Ooh! Hoxton! Hoxton! Hoxt-

Shay signs, faces right in his palm.

Will you people just cut me a break. I’m trying to philosophise here, so please, for the love of god please, just shut up for one minute.

Like a piss in the wind, the crowd is filled with shushes before finally cutting into silence.

Sigh… now you have two kinds of people in this world, the people who swim with the current, and the people who fight against it. That’s why it always feels like bad things happen to good people and vice versa. Of course things are going to go wrong for you go against nature!

Shay pauses, and starts to ponder to himself. What is he saying? Did he get a doctorate in philosophy? No, he spent his youth with coke heads in Mexico. Shay looks up, eyeing the crazy audience. His head is spinning, not really knowing what to feel anymore.

But there’s going with nature, and then there’s just being a dick.

A few crowd members laugh, but get shushed back into silence by their fellow fans.

I mean sure, take the people who trusted you, who loved you, and stab them in the back. Burn year long bridges because a bit of gold went to your head. That’s human nature 101. But when you attack the poor man with a bad knee after his match, and you have the audacity to put him in a kneebar! That, good sir, that is where you become a dick!

The audience brings up their hands, starting to count down with their fingers.

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With that, one minute is up, and the people roar up once again.

You want to stab Bob Luger in the back? Makes sense. You want to stab Randy Borton in the back? Perfect, now you have some cheese with Luger’s whine. But the day you stab me in the back Xander Slate, that’s when you’ve made the biggest mistake of your life!

Because while Luigi and the Milkman way live their lives swimming against the current, I’m keeping up with you stroke by stroke. Every cheap trick, every mind game, every possum play, I know it because I’ve done it! You know why this is your biggest mistake, Slate?

It’s because you’ve decided to mess with a dick.

You think you can outdick a dick? Listen here, Xander Slate, if you think you, a dick can outdick the dick, then you better be prepared to get dicked down.

Dick him down! Dick him down! Dick him down!

Now could tiptoe around, trying to hit each other while Tyson isn’t looking, we absolutely could, but let’s be real, is that what you want? Is that what we want?

Uh uh!

Listen here, Xander Slate, if you have to balls to risk getting dicked down, then let’s cut the crap. Every cut, every rake, every low blow, every kick the knee, every move in the book, no risk. You think you can outdick me? You think you can slither slimier than I can? Then bring it on!

We want blood! We want blood!

Shay smirks.

Sunday is going to be great! I’m going to beat the crap out of a slimy little backstabbing Judas, and I’m going to make a crap ton of money doing it!

The crowd cheers.

And you sick, sick people are going to pay to watch me do it. The V in CMV stands for voyeur apparently.

We’re sick fu-
Careful now! There are children here!

Well Xander Slate, I’d say the challenge has been set, but I’m not actually asking you. You have no power here, Slate, you do what I tell you to. Be prepared, maybe you’ll have a chance to save face.

Shay looks around at the audience.

Dick him down!
21 him!
Choke him, daddy!

Hoxton simply shakes his head.

I take it back, there is no saving face in front of these walking disappointments.

Dis-a-point-ments!

Hoxton goes to say some final words, perhaps let out a catchphrase, but he isn’t here to promote the people’s bad behavior. He said his piece, he made his challenge. Now, it’s time to prepare, prepare and wait for the dirtiest match he’s ever had. There is no honor among thieves, and anyone who says there is are lying to themselves. Now it’s time for two of the most dishonorable thieves to go one on one. The age of heroes may be dead, but the thirst for blood has always been here. Now, the rivers may flow once more, and that thirst can finally be quenched.