The scene opens to darkness. Your eyes cannot notice anything within the cold umbra of the shadow which now hangs before the collective eyes of all those currently observing New Era Wrestling’s lone Andorran employee’s allotted airtime. Through the darkness you become attune to a sound. The sound is faint at first but as your ears become more and more in tune

drip, drop!

The sound hammers into my mind just as it begins to register into yours. I’ve been listening to it in the darkness for hours now. Over and over, repeating, always repeating. Its clockwork melody reminding me that I am here, reminding me why I am here and reminding me where here is… WHAT here is.

drip, drop!

drip, drop!

Like I said; clockwork. It’s the damned sound that never ends; it just goes on and on my friend. I am my friend aren’t I? I don’t even know anymore who the fuck I am anymore. Who knows… maybe I’ve become what they’ve always so eloquently branded me in this business; the bad guy.

drip, drop!

Then a light fills the room. Someone outside flicked the switch and with the sounds of stainless steel grating on stainless steel I witness as the steel sliding shutter on my prison slide open revealing a familiar face; the Chameleon. He and I go way back together, all the way back to UWA when I fooled them into thinking he was in actuality me but he wasn’t me of course because I am me. And who is that me, is that me… I? Does the title Doc Placebo still apply? Or should I go by the name my parents crafted for me which has been made privy to such a select few instead of this exhausted moniker? Maybe…

Doc Placebo, “Surprise, surprise… it’s the prodigal UWA Hardcore Champ whose belt was neither lost nor earned.”

Staring at my imprisoned state Chameleon tries to stifle a laugh. It was almost a year ago after all when these situations were reversed. However, all is not as it was back then. I put Chameleon in this cell all those months ago, but I have made some changes to it since then. The lock for example is on the inside of my door. I chose to be here and sit in isolation. I stare at the lock while mindlessly petting a stuffed teddy bear which wears a tiny white straight jacket with my hand while I think about unlocking the door and killing Chameleon simply for my own amusement.

drip, drop!

Maybe then the dripping would cease and the cannon fire sending forth salvo after agonizing salvo into my cerebellum would cease. My thoughts on death are diverted as my visitor speaks, I simply remain seated on the cold concrete floor. Its frozen chills rising up through my clothes and into my spine as I listen to the condemning voice.

Chameleon, “You know I heard about it from the Minions but I just had to see for myself…”

Doc Placebo, “Never thought you’d see the day I locked myself up eh? Pray you never see the day I deem it necessary and do not heed the voice in my head telling me to stop.”

Chameleon, “You could say there is a bit of irony in this… the slave driver becomes a slave to himself?”

Doc Placebo, “Nonsense… all men are slaves to their own will, I cannot be blamed if some are also slaves to mine as well.”

Chameleon, “But that’s not all I heard.”

Doc Placebo, “Don’t tell me you’ve disturbed my self imposed imprisonment for mere idle gossip?”

Doc Placebo, “So what is it? Kevin and Alia fucking again? Sure didn’t take too long, I guess she missed it.”

Chameleon, “Kev an Alia… havnt heard that one. Maybe she got off on having her eyes burnt out… didn’t think she was that kind of girl.”

Doc Placebo, “I don’t have all night…”

I scowl to myself as I look around my cell. The only color around me besides the dull gray shades of concrete walls and floor is the oddly placed teddy bear to my side which I idly caress with a gentle loving motion. Remembering the exact predicament which I have placed myself under I remember I happen to have all the time in the world. Fuck. I had to listen to this bullshit afterall. That is unless I decide to open that door and kill him. The thought is appealing… but I am not yet ready to open that door. I am not yet ready to grant myself freedom.

Doc Placebo, “…ok… I do have all night. Just get to the point already.”

Chameleon, “I want to hear it from YOU. Why? Why now? Why after all the things you’ve done to so many people why do you now finally crack?”

Chameleon, “What was it too much for you? What were you just running so fast it took this long for your actions to catch up with your conscience?”

Looking at the Chameleon through the small observation slit in my door to my concrete cage I find myself amazed to be actually pondering his words with sincerity.

Doc Placebo, “Interesting concept…”

Doc Placebo, “…but I believe it is flawed.”

Doc Placebo, “To asses the situation thusly you assume that I know why I’m here… you assume you know why I acted as I did.”

Chameleon, “You don’t know?”

Doc Placebo, “No…”

Chameleon, “Then tell me what happened.”

drip, drop!

As I think about the events leading up to my decision to lock myself up in this cold damp cell I hardly even notice the constant drip-drop,drop-driping of the broken water pipe snugly lain into the ceiling above me. As my thoughts coalesce I am once again brought through the power of my mind’s eye to the last airing of Fallout… I had just finished reffing the match where I screwed Donny Downfall. When will that kid learn? Anyways there we are walking to the limo. Erica is by my side and we are flanked by a series of Minions on all sides; a precaution I have grown accustomed to. It would prove foolish on this night’s eve as our procession is brought to a halt by the voice of a small child.

????, “TEN MINUTE MAJOR RULES!”

You got to be kidding me I thought. Major rules? I haven’t seen him since we tagged in UWA, although James Ramage reminds me a bit of him… but then I remembered that voice. It was him; Ian. The small child-fan of the Major’s that I had coerced Major’s then girlfriend to kidnap in order to get back at the Canadian wrestler in order for us both to sate her appetite for revenge while I simply sat back and toyed with their heartstrings… The child was never harmed, I would never go that far, but it wasn’t necessary, the mere action was torture enough for my future tag partner however although it was a fun little engagement even in the best lain plans the human factor can sometimes prove to be just too unpredictable.

Ian, “PLACEBO SUCKS!”

Turning my group and I came face to face with our former victim. I replied.

Doc Placebo, “Ah, my little house guest has returned? Where’s mommy and daddy Ian? Or do you want to come back home? I’m sure Major would love that, maybe he’d even come to NEW and fight for your freedom all over again.

Erica, “You hating Doc, him hating Major, Major hating Doc and maybe even hating you for getting captured again… sort of creates a nice little ‘hate triangle’ don’t you think?”

Ian, “…fuck that…”

Can’t say I blame the kid for cutting the conversation short. It’s not like it was going anywhere. Can’t even blame him for throwing the soda can of Mountain Dew Code Red at me. He hit me in the head and some concoction of sodium and spittle blinded me for a moment. I didn’t see Ian rush my Minions. I don’t know what he was thinking. Probably lashing out for being held prisoner in a cellar for months while Paige Lane forced him to observe the torture of others repeatedly… yeah that might have had something to do with it. Anyways he rushed the Minions. I’m told he kicked one in the shin, another picked him up but he bit him, then he rushed me. A final Minion stood between this kid and his vengeance. But that minion had a bat! Swing and a MISS! Ian dodges but Erica doesn’t.

Catching the backswing Erica collapses to the ground. I didn’t even hear a scream before I cleared my eyes. She didn’t have time. She was knocked out and blood was everywhere. Everything stopped. Ian, the Minions, and me, we all stopped, just like clockwork. I had to remember to tell my brain I needed to breathe. Then I saw what had happened, piece by piece fell inside my mind and I didn’t need to see what had happened to know. I knew and I acted.

Slamming my fist into the face of the Minion which had been wilding swinging the bat I applied the Placebo Effect. But I didn’t stop there. I did not just apply the hold. I pushed my whole fist into that miserable slave’s mouth. Then I kept pushing and punching my way down the worthless thing’s throat. That life was mine to preserve and mine to take and I TOOK! I slammed its head into the concrete floor over and over as I punched at the Minion’s throat with my arm down into his esophagus. I don’t know if he died from his skull cracking or from suffocation but he died…

Chameleon, “And what happened to Ian?”

Doc Placebo, “I really don’t know… I would suspect the image of a man brutally murdering another as I did would scare away a small child?”

Chameleon, “Point taken…”

Chameleon, “However… you know Doc you have killed Minions before. Why is this one different?”

He was right. What does make this Minion different from the others? I have killed plenty of Minions in the past. Minions that could not adjust to their new life without freedom, Minions whose minds had dulled to nothing but a whisper of intelligence after the process of breaking their wills had been complete… and then there was the occasional kill merely for my own pleasure. What makes this death different, why does it not fit into any of these categories as does all others?

Doc Placebo, “I don’t know.”

Chameleon, “Your just going to stay here till you do?”

Doc Placebo, “Yes.”

Doc Placebo, “Before when I killed I had a reason, there was always a reason. It could have been good or bad… but I don’t know why I killed that Minion. His life was already forfeit as a Minion, but that isn’t the point. I want to know, and I cannot trust myself till I do.”

Chameleon, “And that’s ALL you remember from that night…”

Absent mindedly I continue to pet the straight jacketed Teddy bear I had named Mephistopheles a few months past. Considering the question put on the table by the inactive Kovenant member I nodded.

drip, drop!

That damned noise again, I’d almost been able to ignore it. For some reason I am compelled to pet the bear some more, the reason which I am compelled to do this escapes me. Somehow doing so brings forth some sort of feeling which I am unsure to what it is associated. I answer.

Doc Placebo, “Yes… that’s all.”

Looking back at the annoyance staring back at me from behind a stainless steel door I once again consider murder as I see Chameleon holding my Title, the Kovenant Tag Team Championship. Yeah the Supreme Tag Title just sounded so ludicrous considering there is an Ultimate and a World Title… what is this anyways rock, paper, scissors?

Chameleon, “And what about this? Should I defend your belts again as you’re ready?”

Doc Placebo, “I’ll defend… I am here by choice, I can return by choice.”

Doc Placebo, “And I choose to defend. After all Rilo and I have already beaten one of these teams arrayed against us.”

Chameleon, “Who was that… the Force?”

Doc Placebo, “Indeed… but the Force wasn’t with them when they faced us, nay. They ran into a brick wall in the form of Rilo and myself. I need not utter another word on these two as they know that the Kovenant is a greater force than them. Rilo and I have already proven it to be not only theory, but law… when the Force meets another tag team of equal power they might be stopped, but when they face us? They are crushed because we are not an equal and opposite force but a greater power than they can hope to be.”

Doc Placebo, “The only wild cards in this match are the ‘Ultimate Tag Champions’.”

Chameleon, “Goddamn… Ultimate… Supreme… where are the Fantastic Tag Champs?”

Doc Placebo, “You got me…”

Doc Placebo, “I’m told these guys are supposedly something to worry about. However, this week I just don’t seem to care. My life seems like a waking dream as I sit here contemplating my actions and all I can seem to think will bring me out of this near unconscious stupor is to pound my fist into a pound of flesh. These Champions in Frost and Michaels will be that pound of flesh and through hurting those with this fist with which I murdered my own Minion with perhaps I’ll find the answers I’m seeking. The why’s which elude me…”

Chameleon, “Goddamn… Ultimate… Supreme… where are the Fantastic Tag Champs?”

Doc Placebo, “You got me…”

Doc Placebo, “I’m told these guys are supposedly something to worry about. However, this week I just don’t seem to care. My life seems like a waking dream as I sit here contemplating my actions and all I can seem to think will bring me out of this near unconscious stupor is to pound my fist into a pound of flesh. These Champions in Frost and Michaels will be that pound of flesh and through hurting those with this fist with which I murdered my own Minion with perhaps I’ll find the answers I’m seeking. The why’s which elude me…”

Chameleon, “You’re sure that’s everything you remember”

Doc Placebo, “Yes… why am I even telling you any of this? You’ve been nothing but a freeloader around the Klub ever since Rilo took the Hardcore Title last summer.”

Chameleon, “You guys havnt needed me… but anyways… if that’s everything you remember, why do you always pet the bear Erica gave you when I ask you if there is anything else?”

Doc Placebo, “Hm?”

Son of a... Looking down at my hand I was indeed petting that damn bear… why? What does it mean to me? What does some random gift given to me by someone who was nothing more than a slave mean to me? What?

Doc Placebo, “… what else am I supposed to do? I don’t really see anything else in here.”

Chameleon, “Right.”

I make a conscious decision to hunt down wherever the hell Chameleon has been hiding out in the Klub these past few months and beat the crap out of him once I figure all of this out. He slides the stainless steel plate back into place and flicks a switch on the outside leaving me in darkness again.

drip, drop!

The darkness doesn’t bother me, it’s actually quite soothing. I don’t have to see myself anymore and I can hide within my thoughts as I contemplate the events from weeks past. The whys that torment me.

drip, drop!

I just wish I could ignore that damn drippy drip drops going through my brain. One drop two drop three drops FOUR!

drip, drop!

Fucking drops get out of MY HEAD.