Cup (Part I)
Don’t you know the old saying?
A cup is only as good as what it contains.
So many cups in Arcadia. So many of them could contain something of substance.
Something of value.
And yet, they contain poison.
They contain venom.
Whether it’s alcohol, or a mixture of juice of codeine, or a sugary beverage that rots your teeth, or coffee that makes your mind too fast, and creates a tremor in your hands.
Cups full of degeneracy.
Full of dependence.
Full of lies.
All week, my co-workers here at the ACA have been preparing me, worried about the venom coursing through a particular python’s angry, little body.
And yet it is you, Python, who has been filled with venom.
I know this, because Mr. Kleen is many things — and honesty sits high atop his mountain of virtues.
You have sipped from a cup full of lies so venomous that you have adopted the identity of a mythical animal, put on a costume, and swore your allegiance to a man known as the Zookeeper.
The man who refills your cup daily, prancing about with a pitcher full of that venom, turning your brain into a slave to his will.
And all the while, with his venom coursing through your brain, you’re led to believe that you fight for justice, for honor, and for good.
Yet, a cup already exists, full of justice, full of honor and goodness.
And we gave you ample opportunity to sip from that cup.
But you had too much venom coursing through you to see the difference in just and unjust, honor and dishonor, good and bad.
And now, a new cup has been brought forward.
Begging for he who deserves it to sip from it.
And that cup? Well…
That cup is full of glory.
That cup is full of greatness.
That cup is full of the hopes and dreams of every man and woman who fights in OSW.
But with your mind so ensnared in the Zookeeper’s venom, I cannot help but wonder if you even have what it takes to fight for these things.
After all, you were offered justice. You were offered honor. You were offered goodness.
And you fled from them like a coward.
With your fellow slaves in tow.
Python… Can you even recognize glory for what it is?
Or does it appear to be something else entirely?
For your snake eyes continue to betray you into mistaking poison for sustenance, and vice versa.
While my eyes?
They are as clear as diamonds.
And my heart is full of justice, honor, and goodness.
I can see this cup for what it truly is — and no Zookeeper is going to have me chasing lies from one cup with bent truths from another.
I see the truth.
… it’s mine.
And I’ll be damned if a little snake steals it from me.
Oh, one last thing.
We’ll be billing you for the damages at the ACA Headquarters.
You already damaged one good cup.
Don’t go damaging this one, please.