Post by Max Daemon on Mar 20, 2022 2:25:58 GMT
Max is seen sitting in an office chair. The office itself is surrounded by various posters of himself, though with a different name and other logos slapped on.
With a sigh, Max leans back in his chair, a lit cigarette in his mouth. He opens his mouth slightly and starts to gulp down an opened bottle of Jack, seemingly the same one as before.
Once the bottle is half empty, he sets it back down onto the floor. He takes the cigarette out and blows the smoke into the sky.
He replaces the cigarette back between his lips and grabs the bottle, standing up out of the chair. He exits the office, stumbling his way through the second floor hallway.
"Ya' know...I've often been told I'm crass. Rude. Mean.
Some have called me brash and arrogant.
Others have called me an asshole or a dick.
One has called me a pervert and a disappointment since the first time I mentioned her.
But ya' wanna know the fuckin kicker?"
Max takes the cigarette out of his mouth, pushing it against the wall and tossing the remaining bud behind him. He takes another healthy gulp of the bottle of Jack. He continues his walk down the hallway, opening his bedroom.
He flicks the light on, staring a few moments at the empty bed, the covers, the covers on the left (their) side strewn up.
"None of 'em are really wrong."
Max walks towards a convenient rug located in the middle of the room.
He stands still for a few moments waiting on something to happen.
...
...
Something doesn't happen.
Max takes another drink of the bottle before hopping once. The rug opens up, allowing Max to slide down a transparent green tube slide.
Eventually, he reaches the basement. Upon exiting the slide, he takes another drink from the bottle.
"I'm a lot of things. Especially a lot of things that people like ta' pinpoint me as.
I'm an asshole, yes. I'm arrogant, of course. I'm crass and rude, sure, absolutely.
Hell, I'm especially a disappointment.
But ya' wanna know what else I am?"
Max continues his trek through the lab/training facility before reaching a wrestling ring set-up in the center. He rolls under the bottom rope, careful to keep the bottle from spilling. Instead of standing, he crawls to the middle of the ring, lying down on his back and taking another tentative gulp from the bottle.
"A survivor.
A fighter.
A determined wrestler.
The best fuckin performer ya've ever seen.
Oh, and I'm one more thing too.
I'm Max fuckin Daemon.
It's been a while since I've felt the need ta' remind people and prove ta' everyone why exactly that's a name worth puttin some goddamn irreverence under.
Well, I'm feelin the need fuckers.
I started travelin ta' other places ta' initially promote my debut MMA fight. I figured it'd be a good cross-promotion for those lookin ta' get a bit of that advertisement pay.
But now?
Now it's more personal than that."
Max takes a huge gulp from the bottle, only stopping when he can't taste anymore.
Not that he is in a state of mind to recognize that...
"Nah, now it's about provin ta' everyone just how fuckin good I am.
Ya'd think with a last name like Daemon I'd be more remembered in some aspect, but of course not. Who the fuck cares about bein remembered?
Oh right.
Fuckin me.
The curse of greatness, I guess. Ya' reach a certain point and eventually people start forgettin just how fuckin awesome ya' are. Just how fuckin fantastic ya' are.
That's fine.
It really is.
It's about time I start remindin people who I am.
And hey, if that means hijackin a huge ol' battle royal in some other company and goin on ta' beat their champion?
So be it."
Max goes for another drink, but obviously, realizes it's empty.
With a sigh, he tosses the bottle away from him.
He ignores when it rolls out of the ring and crashes to the concrete floor.
He ignores the vast silence that fills the lab beyond the white noise of an even vaster space.
He doesn't ignore the wetness on his cheeks.
He brings his hands to try and wipe the water away, but finds it won't stop.
"Huh..."
Max puts his hands back at his side.
"That's weird..."
He lets the water continue to fall as he wallows in his own failures.
"...I didn't think I had any of those left."
With a sigh, Max leans back in his chair, a lit cigarette in his mouth. He opens his mouth slightly and starts to gulp down an opened bottle of Jack, seemingly the same one as before.
Once the bottle is half empty, he sets it back down onto the floor. He takes the cigarette out and blows the smoke into the sky.
He replaces the cigarette back between his lips and grabs the bottle, standing up out of the chair. He exits the office, stumbling his way through the second floor hallway.
"Ya' know...I've often been told I'm crass. Rude. Mean.
Some have called me brash and arrogant.
Others have called me an asshole or a dick.
One has called me a pervert and a disappointment since the first time I mentioned her.
But ya' wanna know the fuckin kicker?"
Max takes the cigarette out of his mouth, pushing it against the wall and tossing the remaining bud behind him. He takes another healthy gulp of the bottle of Jack. He continues his walk down the hallway, opening his bedroom.
He flicks the light on, staring a few moments at the empty bed, the covers, the covers on the left (their) side strewn up.
"None of 'em are really wrong."
Max walks towards a convenient rug located in the middle of the room.
He stands still for a few moments waiting on something to happen.
...
...
Something doesn't happen.
Max takes another drink of the bottle before hopping once. The rug opens up, allowing Max to slide down a transparent green tube slide.
Eventually, he reaches the basement. Upon exiting the slide, he takes another drink from the bottle.
"I'm a lot of things. Especially a lot of things that people like ta' pinpoint me as.
I'm an asshole, yes. I'm arrogant, of course. I'm crass and rude, sure, absolutely.
Hell, I'm especially a disappointment.
But ya' wanna know what else I am?"
Max continues his trek through the lab/training facility before reaching a wrestling ring set-up in the center. He rolls under the bottom rope, careful to keep the bottle from spilling. Instead of standing, he crawls to the middle of the ring, lying down on his back and taking another tentative gulp from the bottle.
"A survivor.
A fighter.
A determined wrestler.
The best fuckin performer ya've ever seen.
Oh, and I'm one more thing too.
I'm Max fuckin Daemon.
It's been a while since I've felt the need ta' remind people and prove ta' everyone why exactly that's a name worth puttin some goddamn irreverence under.
Well, I'm feelin the need fuckers.
I started travelin ta' other places ta' initially promote my debut MMA fight. I figured it'd be a good cross-promotion for those lookin ta' get a bit of that advertisement pay.
But now?
Now it's more personal than that."
Max takes a huge gulp from the bottle, only stopping when he can't taste anymore.
Not that he is in a state of mind to recognize that...
"Nah, now it's about provin ta' everyone just how fuckin good I am.
Ya'd think with a last name like Daemon I'd be more remembered in some aspect, but of course not. Who the fuck cares about bein remembered?
Oh right.
Fuckin me.
The curse of greatness, I guess. Ya' reach a certain point and eventually people start forgettin just how fuckin awesome ya' are. Just how fuckin fantastic ya' are.
That's fine.
It really is.
It's about time I start remindin people who I am.
And hey, if that means hijackin a huge ol' battle royal in some other company and goin on ta' beat their champion?
So be it."
Max goes for another drink, but obviously, realizes it's empty.
With a sigh, he tosses the bottle away from him.
He ignores when it rolls out of the ring and crashes to the concrete floor.
He ignores the vast silence that fills the lab beyond the white noise of an even vaster space.
He doesn't ignore the wetness on his cheeks.
He brings his hands to try and wipe the water away, but finds it won't stop.
"Huh..."
Max puts his hands back at his side.
"That's weird..."
He lets the water continue to fall as he wallows in his own failures.
"...I didn't think I had any of those left."
Well howdy there pardner.