The reminder.

[Sabin / Madjinn]

As the scenery fades in, the lights throughout the room are dimmed down. The camera scours the room briefly, whilst a low music starts playing…the camera finally finds a table set with a logo on a cloth hanging from it – the logo is legible as: “The Madjinn Show” and in smaller print underneath that: “We’re all a little mad here!”

The table is set in front of a giant screen, meant to replicate an actual window while the red sun rises from the right side of the screen, and just as it rises, the lights throughout the room also come on and we are treated to a glamorous view of the Okayama skyline. Sitting at the table, wearing a pink button shirt with the collar pulled loose, and an aquamarine tie, is none other than The Mad Prince…his face paint is smeared across his face rather than the precision he is known to have on show day, and a coy smile on his face.

Holding his posture, he folds his hands atop the table and finally speaks to the audience, “Welcome, everybody, to the highest rated show of the week! THE MADJINN SHOW! First and foremost, I would like to take a moment to speak about what happened last week. Apparently there were some viewers out there that were not fond of the content on the show, and felt that it was not suitable for children of all ages, and so I would like to take a moment to… apologize… for ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!” He says while exaggeratingly shrugging his shoulders, and a visible look of confusion.

Rapping his knuckles against the table surface, he leans forward against one arm with the golden eyes peering forward, “Why should I?! Why should I have to apologize for that?! Why should I apologize for granting you all MUST SEE TV! I mean–” Madjinn gestures forward, “–shouldn’t you, the parents, hold the responsibility of what you let your children watch? I mean, even if you are just watching for yourself…you don’t like what you’re watching? CHANGE THE CHANNEL! But make no mistake about it, you are currently watching the HIGHEST RATED ENTERTAINER on your screen! You are watching THE MAD PRINCE, you are watching the IMPERIAL WRESTLING FEDERATION!”

He adjusts back a little bit, shaking his head as he scoffs at the mere thoughts…he finally stabs his finger three times, once for every word, against the table, and fixes his gaze back on the camera, “SCREEN! YOUR! CHILDRENS! CONTENT!”

Clearing his throat, he turns again to face the camera, and flashes a quick smile before continuing, “And… for the first time in forever, I find myself…not holding the number one position on the first week of a tournament! It’s absolutely shocking! It’s mind boggling! It’s– well, it’s something, and do you know what?” He sniffles and shrugs again, “I’m fine with that. I’m fine with fighting Allen Chaney to a draw because there is– so– much– more that we are capable of doing on a grander stage! Our fight will come, Allen, and you can blame me for absolutely everything that you want to… But we’ll dance our dance, but for now, we focus on the here, we focus on the now, and the here and the now is me and my lovely girlfriend being put up against– Tytus Rost and Abigail.” He says with little to no emotion regarding their names.

Leaning back in his chair, he picks up a small clipboard with papers attached to the front and starts thumbing through them, “Blah, blah, blah. Blah, blah. Blah, blah, blah. Blah. It’s literally like once you’ve heard Abigail say one thing, you’ve heard allllllllll she has to say, because it’s a lot of the same old, same old, Spike Kane this, Spike Kane that, and quite frankly, I don’t give a fuck.” He tosses the clipboard over his shoulder and rolls his eyes, “I’m sure you’re going to go ahead and give us all a history lesson for anyone that cares enough to hear what you have to say, but y’see, that’s exactly your problem… You live in that history! You– spew– that history…but let me go ahead and remind you of your own history…” He clears his throat again, and nods to the audience. A menacing smile proudly on his face before he continues.

“You– like to fluff up your little record books about your run as the champion, and talk about how great you were as that champion! But if anybody who is actually worth their salt takes a look at the competition: YOU HAD NONE! People weren’t lining up to fight you… People were leaving because of you. The competition was drying up, but when true competition showed up: you sunk! You like to talk as if you were once one of the greats, but the truth is that you were a dying breed of mediocrity while the TALENT returned, and on our blood, my family rebuilt the competition from the ground up. When axtláa showed up, she beat you, she took your title, and you were seen for what you are: nothing. You drifted away, and not one person muttered your name… not one person remembered you, just like everybody is trying to forget the whole Kane ordeal, but you won’t let it DIE!” He chatters his teeth a little, beginning to salivate at the idea of being in the ring with Abigail, but he sneers and snarls while jolting his head from side to side, “I wish I could be in the ring with you. I wish I could do exactly what axtláa did to you, and send you packing, but I’m not going to get that chance… THE BLACK WIDOW will. And every time you look at me on the apron, I hope you see me smiling and I want you to know that I hope The Black Widow breaks every bone in your puny fucking body.”

He takes a second to regain his breath and composure, as the golden eyes dazzle from the way the light hits it – he adjusts his tie, loosening it further, then flashes another quick smile at the audience before continuing his speech, “Who do I have to be concerned with? A Russian Lion?” Madjinn chuckles, leaning in closer to the camera with a smug expression on his face, “You don’t need to speak. I know exactly what you are thinking when you see me… when you hear me… and I know exactly what you’re thinking you’re going to do when you get in the ring with me. This is your chance! This is your chance to make me eat every single word that I’ve ever said! Words that– weren’t even always directed at you. Y’see, I’m becoming quite used to being the most hated person in that locker room. I’m becoming quite used to having people fixing me in their crosshairs and firing everything they have because I have a way of just…getting under their skin…” He says with a taunting smile.

Standing up from his chair, Madjinn also pulls the tie from around his collar and flings it to the floor, and then pulls on his shirt so the buttons either come loose or are torn from their placement – two weeks later, the scars from Joker in the Pack are still quite visible, and with a snarling smile, he traces his fingertip over his heart in an “X”.

“Take your best shot.” He cocks his head to the side.

“You wanted this opportunity, didn’t you?! You wanted the chance to use that brawn strength to tear me limb by limb; you’ll probably jump on the screen and drop my real name instead of my stage name, because you think that makes you oh so clever, so… DO IT. Do. Your. Worst. But just know that when you’re done, I’m still going to be standing. I’m still going to be standing, and I’m going to hurt you in ways that you could not even imagine. And do you know why?” He asks as he pounds his hand down against the table with a menacing smile, slowly tilting his head back and forth, “To remind you, and everyone, that I am THE MAD PRINCE! I am CHAOS PERSONIFIED! I won the world championship on my own, and at the end of this tournament… I am going to do it AGAIN.” He leans in closer, the camera also inching closer to focus on the details of his expression; his eyes narrow as he growls out the final words, “And none of you are going to be able to stop me.”

He traces his hands across the lens before shoving the camera back, and the camera fades to black.

Shortly thereafter, the scenery fades back into place to unveil a much more humanized Madjinn – Sabin – he sits on a couch with a television remote in his hand, rapidly pressing the down button.

“Axtláaaaaaaaaa!” Sabin calls out.

Continuing to press the buttons, Sabin remains seated as Tara enters from around the corner, “What?”

“I have searched every single one of the Nat Geo shows on Disney+, and not one of them talks about Russia having lions!” Sabin exclaims.

“It’s way too cold in Russia for lions to survive in the wild…”

“Then why would he have a nickname called THE RUSSIAN LION?!” Sabin exclaims in frustration.

“No one said he was smart…” Tara answers smugly, and leaves the room.

Scene fades out completely.