You’re damn right I wear this shirt with pride, Doc, ‘cause there is a legacy behind DEFIANCE that someone like you could never understand.
But that word, those letters are more than just a logo on a t-shirt. They’re branded in the flesh, tattooed on the bones, they’re the fuckin’ DNA that makes up each and every DEFIANT.
Tragic thing about it, is that you don’t even deserve ta hear the story. You haven’t earned the right ta learn the why of it all for the same god damned reason that you chose to face a rookie instead of a guy you knew would tear ya ta shreds.
What’s wrong Doc?
Did the steal in my voice get ya quakin’?
Did somethin’ I said make those shriveled up old cojones shrivel up just a little bit more?
I get it, I do, you saw the War God and you went pale…
Then you heard the icy conviction in my words and that old ticker of yours damn near gave out.
Guess I can understand it. It was never a real match ya were after; just something ta make ya relevant for a minute or two; some bullshit spotfest on a two-bit show that might air somewhere between Piranacanda and vacuum cleaner ads.
Hope that works out for ya.
But ifn ya ever want a real challenge, Doc, yer gonna have ta drag yer sorry old ass over ta DEFIANCE, ‘cause I’m done wastin’ my time with assholes who are all bluster n’ bullshit, ‘til the time comes ta lace ‘em up n’ fight.
Guess the real problem is you can’t even reach ‘em anymore, can ya Doc. That spare tire done lapped over so far ya need a GPS just ta find yer dick so ya can take a piss.
That’s the real reason ya wanted ta face Miss Second Chance, ain’t it. Yer hopin’ she’ll drop to ‘er knees 'n find it for ya again.