“A little girl complained of a tooth ache.”
“Her father, an incompetent swine of a man, didn’t know what to do. At first, he thought that if he left it, it would fall out of its own accord or simply resolve itself in some other innocuous manner. That made sense to the man. It was rational and logical, he thought.”
“But that didn’t happen.”
“Instead, the tooth decayed and became rotten, but impacted the other teeth and gums. The longer he left it, the worse the child felt. Before long, her entire mouth had swollen up and become infected.”
“The pain was almost unbearable and the father, a foolish folly if you’d have ever seen one, didn’t quite know what to do.”
“So, he changed tact.”
“And with an ingenious thought, he tied a piece of string to the tooth and wrapped it around a door handle. He promised his daughter that the pain would be gone in no time at all and with one wild pull, used the force of the door slamming to rip the tooth from her mouth.”
“But that didn’t stop the infection.”
“That didn’t ease her pain.”
“Only a Dentist could do that.”
“Arcadia is in utter agony, isn’t it Blacktooth? It’s that little girl, crying, whining, and whimpering because she’s in so much pain.”
“And Zeus is her father, putting you in matches in Old School Wrestling, in hopes that one way or another, you’ll come to sort yourself out and you’ll no longer be his problem.”
“Since that hasn’t happened, he’s expectant that one of us on the roster will become the door that will rip the tooth from her mouth and finally cease the torture.”
“Am I the rudimentary door?”
“Am I the string attached to your black tooth that’ll rip you from the mouth of Arcadia?”
“I’m afraid things are not that simple, Blacktooth.”
“For I’m no simple instrument in and of myself. I’m not short sighted enough to think ripping you from the mouth of Arcadia is enough. People follow you like a spreading infection. One black tooth today is a mouth full of decay, tomorrow.”
“And I’m no Dentist.”
“I’m the next best thing; I’m a Doctor.”
“I know that the black tooth is a symptom of a much larger infection that must be dealt with. A simple slamming of the door won’t end this chaos; nor will removing you from the mouth like the rotten fossil you are.”
“You must treat the infection.”
“And that starts with improper maintenance of the mouth.”
“First, Arcadia needs to learn to look after itself. It needs to learn to brush its teeth and take care of its own hygiene. Problems like you arise when they let it.”
“Then, I treat the infection. I ensure that every single one of your pathetic followers is broken, treated and cured of their bloodlust.”
“And when that’s done, I safely remove the tooth.”
“At Clash 305, let the treatment begin.”