The streets were a myriad of colours and sounds, a living tapestry of urban life. Neon signs blinked their siren call, casting ethereal glows on the pavement as Stu-E moved through the currents of pedestrians. He breathed in the mingling aromas of street food, exhaust fumes, and a distant hint of rain. Each step was a small rebellion against the undertow of emotions he'd been grappling with – worry for Laney, the sting of separation, and the gnawing anticipation of his imminent showdown.
His thoughts turned to the triple threat match that loomed on the horizon, a clash of titans that promised to be a symphony of brutality and cunning. Stu-E, Legion, and Draconis – a trio destined to collide in the arena of combat. The mere thought of it sent a shiver down his spine. He knew he was stepping into the lion's den, willingly exposing himself to the storm that was about to break loose. But it was a storm he needed to weather, a crucible in which his mettle would be tested.
As he walked, he felt the weight of Laney's absence in every footfall, a bittersweet reminder of his devotion to both family and duty. The city seemed to absorb his contemplation; its whispered secrets carried by the wind that rustled through narrow alleyways. He could almost hear her laughter in the distant echoes, a memory so vivid it was as if she were still by his side.
The thought of facing Legion and Draconis in a match that could easily turn into a two-on-one assault weighed heavily on his mind. It was a scenario he had mentally prepared for, a tactical dance of survival and strategy. He could almost feel their collective presence, their sinister camaraderie, a brewing storm waiting to unleash its fury upon him.
But despite the impending storm, Stu-E's steps grew firmer with each stride. Determination hardened his gaze, and his jaw clenched as he silently swore to meet whatever challenges lay ahead head-on. His journey through the labyrinthine streets mirrored the twists and turns of his own destiny, a path he was forging with unwavering resolve.
“Look at you visiting sick kids in hospital, like your regular redneck Jimmy Savile. If you really cared about those kids, you would never in a million years show up with a camera in a vain attempt to trick the World in to thinking you’re not a bastard. Imagine being sick for months and Billy Draconis shows up with a camera crew? I’d turn off the life support myself, lad.
To answer your question, no, I don’t know what happens to a hydra if you cut it’s head off; as far as I’m aware it’s a Greek island, is it not? I’m not currently focusing on things that don’t exist, if you’re banging on about Greek mythology, although saying that now you mention your ‘dragon’ moniker, they don’t bloody exist either.
You say you earned the name, but how? If your friends have said to you, that you have the fire breath of a dragon, they just didn’t want to bring up your gingivitis, sorry bud. But if you want to run around calling yourself a dragon, that’s ok in 2023. You can be anything you want, but remember there’s a very famous story of the patron Saint of England slaying a bigger dragon than you, so maybe it’s poetic that the your big, dumb, bastard, arse is about to get kicked by England’s favourite wrestler.”
The city's heart pulsed around him, a living testament to the chaos and order that coexisted in its veins. And in the midst of it all, Stu-E Price walked on, a solitary figure carrying the weight of his responsibilities, his hopes, and his unyielding spirit. As the last rays of light surrendered to the night, he pressed forward, a man on a collision course with destiny, ready to face the double threat that awaited him in the ring.
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