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The Rag

The Rag

“Imagine, if you will, a rag.”

“What is its purpose?”

“The answer? The rag exists purely as a tool for cleaning, cleansing the world around it. Seeped in soap and dripping with water, a rag is a tool for the righteous cause of removing dirt and grime from any surface it comes across.”

“However, an interesting thing begins to happen the longer a rag is used.”

“As it wipes away the dastardly grime and sickly blight from the surfaces around it, it too slowly begins to take on the properties of the very dirt it opposes.”

“Starting out white and pure, the rag slowly accumulates stains, oils, and debris as it so valiantly does its job.”

“And eventually?”

“The rag turns blackened with the very substance it once cleansed from the world.”

“All the cleaning it once did now replaced with a thin film of grime and grease.”

“When a rag has turned unclean and leaves its purpose behind, what do you do to it?”

“You’ll never be able to clean out the stains.”

“And with each cycle it will only grow dirtier.”

“So what do you do?”

You throw it away.”

“I’m no saint, Luke. Really, I’m far from it. But you? Well, you’ve become a far cry from what you once were.”

“When I first entered OSW it was covered from head to toe in the most disgusting, rancid, filthy grime you could think of. It was laid on thick and no simple soap could ever really remove the stains left by the evil monsters that roamed the halls.”

“So that’s where you came in, right?”

“You were the cleaning rag held tightly in the hands of justice. With a bit of elbow grease you wiped away the dirt and grime, cleansing the halls and leaving the walls as clean as the day they were built.”

“The likes of Sandman’s dirt became a distant memory beneath your fibers.”

“The grime left behind by your own brother washed away by tears and anger.”

“But the venomous oil of Viper Roberts was the turning point, wasn’t it?”

“With one last wipe you were covered in it.”

“And no amount of washing could clean you.”

“The once pure and valiant Luke Storm was a dirtied rag in the hands of a the Bad Mother Fuckers.”

“Every surface you touched after was left with a thin film of grease, your stained fibers leaving the halls of OSW dirtier than they ever were before.”

“Now, normally I wouldn’t care about the dirt and grime of a place like OSW.”

“But as you continually muddy the halls my job gets harder, Luke.”

“You keep getting wiped up and down the tiles, leaving a mess in your wake for me to wade through.”

“So at Triosmania I’m going to do what I must.”

“I’ll snatch you from the hands of BMF and do what should have been done a long time ago.”

“And I’m going to throw you away.”

“I have walked this path before, Luke.”

“And I shall walk a clean path once more.”