[The people you meet just by simply commuting are interesting at times. I was traveling towards home, a few blocks away from Jarvis Beach and Lake Michigan on the trains. I sat down next to an old man, he looked to be sixty or seventy. I couldn't tell, and I wasn't going to be rude and demand to know a stranger's age, so I speculated. I thought about Alexis and Morgan. How they were waiting for me, and how heavy the groceries were in my arms, how chilly the Autumn air is when it hangs over you, threatening winter and taking leaves as hostage, dumping their useless orange bodies as casualties in the annual global war. Running all season.]

Man: That's a lot of food.

[His raspy voice brought me back. It was familiar, and still, I had no idea who he was. The old man had broken the ice. Well, sort of.]

Duff: Yeah. I've got two other mouths to feed.

Man: Two other mouths warrant that much extra weight?

Duff: Well, not really. I just like to stock up. See, my job takes a lot out of me, and when I get home, I normally haven't had a whole lot to eat. I don't eat while traveling, you see. I go from city to city, I... talk to people.

[I'd rather not disclose my current occupation in a city infamous for its fanaticism for sports.]

Man: Oh, so it's like you're in a circus or something.

Duff: No.

Man: Grifter?

Duff: No, but he's in the same line of work. At least he was.

[An odd glance comes from the man, whose hair is grey beneath a beige coloured cap. His dress is normal for someone of his age, and it insists that he's had a lot in his life. A long, similarly coloured coat, and black pants, with a jacket to match. His tie is multicoloured, striped a royal purple and white, and his smile is yellowed from years of smoking. He laughs.]

Man: You're all right, kid. My name is Kellerman. David Kellerman. I was in your line of work once.

Duff: Really? I've never seen you.

Kellerman: I was in the CWA for a while. You weren't there, though. Something about your girlfriend cheating on you with a lesbian. I saw her wrestle, she was pretty good. ... Well, in the first match, anyway. Afterwards --

Duff: Yeah, yeah, Ryan Ford's gotten the best of all of us. Anyway, I think I'm beginning to remember something about you, involving that Malone guy, and Trevor Knight, I think.

Kellerman: Yeah, they decided they wanted to make a statement. What that statement was, I'm not too sure, but apparently the creators of Marathon didn't much care.

Duff: For some reason, I doubt they watch pro wrestling.

[The train pulled to a stop at Jarvis. The condescending voice booms over the speaker system, "THIS IS JARVIS", as the doors opened. I stood up, two plastic bags hanging on just by a thread.]

Duff: Well, it was nice seeing you again.

[I stepped out of the door and hear the same automated voice, "DOORS CLOSING", followed by the corresponding slamming of the metal doors with rubber padding. As soon as I reach the bottom of the stairs, I check my groceries once more, to make sure I didn't leave anything behind. I groan when I realize that a loaf of bread managed to somehow meander its way from its plastic prison.]

Duff: Dammit.

Kellerman: I think you forgot something.

[I turned to see the crinkled face of Kellerman, and he passed me the bread. I smile, gratefully, and tuck it away in the bag.]

Duff: So you live around these parts, too?

Kellerman: No, Duff. I still live in Berlin, I just came out here because I have a business proposal for you.

=====

[Chicago is just like the northeast in the Autumn months. Alexis and I are walking through Grant Park, Morgan is in the custody of a nanny for the night. We needed some alone-time. As if we don't get enough of that on the road. The leaves are changing rapidly, dying, and falling to the ground like soldiers in a war zone. Painted brighter, more vivid shades of red than soldier bodies.

We can't help but stop and stare at Buckingham Fountain as it shoots water into the night air, lit by shades of orange, purple, and red. Going all season. This is where we had our first kiss, and it's still as beautiful as that day. I smile over at her and hold her close. She returns the gesture, and her arm curls around my neck. I cup the back of her head and we kiss in front of Buckingham Fountain. Again. Getting wet in the process from the slightest mist that comes from the water being caught in a careless, unknowing wind. Not that it matters, we're both wearing leather jackets, so the only things that feel the sting of the water in a solstice season are our faces.]

Duff: Just as amazing as the first time.

Alexis: I don't know. This time around, there wasn't the thrill of running to catch the train from Evanston. All the same, I've always enjoyed it here, especially with you.

Duff: That's a relief, I was beginning to think you hated me.

[This is where the laugh track would come in if life was really like a sitcom. I smile at her. She takes my hand, and we begin walking around the fountain.]

Alexis: Duff, I don't think I could ever bring myself to hate you.

Duff: What about dislike me mildly?

Alexis: I doubt it.

Duff: What if I abandoned you in the desert again?

Alexis: We went over this already, if you do that again, I'll castrate you and keep it in a jar full of formaldehyde.

[I cringe.]

Duff: Oh, right.

[Suddenly, she releases my hand, and looks at me. Smiling wickedly, she jumps into a giant pile of leaves and rolls down a hill, laughing all the while. I shrug my shoulders and follow. I see white before I feel the pain of a tree hitting me in the face. Then, I see what's an angel. Or the closest thing to it. Alexis is standing over me, and she pulls a napkin out of her purse. She wipes the blood from my nose and we both laugh.]

=====

[According to the infinite well of wisdom known as Wikipedia: "The Adler Planetarium and Astronomy Museum in Chicago, Illinois was the first planetarium built in the Western Hemisphere and is the oldest in existence today. The Adler was founded and built in 1930 by the philanthropist Max Adler, with the assistance of the first director of the planetarium, Philip Fox. Located on Northerly Island, it is a part of Chicago's Museum Campus along with the Shedd Aquarium and the Field Museum of Natural History."

"It was declared a National Historic Landmark in 1987."

Outside of the Adler Planetarium and Astronomy Museum, I'm sitting on a bench. Alexis and I had just finished looking around and generally being amazed and amused by space in all its infinity. My leather trench coat's tails flap gently in the breeze, hanging by my feet and I am drinking a bottle of crystal-clear water from Maine, purchased at Dominick's. Another week, another run-in I'm sure to have with Riona Langly's attorneys.]

"The name 'Marcus Ambrose' was one I never thought I would have to speak again. He did pick an opportune time to re-emerge, though. Right around the time of London's Burning. I recall a London's Burning match I participated in. In fact, the only one in my career, wherein I defeated you, Marcus. Then again, there's a lot of matches where I could talk about beating the once infallible 'Showtime'. I practically retired you, Marcus."

"After the CWA ended, it was constantly told to me that what I had done, defeating you, would be seen by many as almost impossible a few years ago."

"That was then, though. This is now, and let's face it, Marcus, you've been on a roll for most of your time here. You came back, and you won the TV title in only your second match here. You know, I wish I was in such good graces that I had a title match in my second match here. But, I guess that's what happens when your return to the uncivilized world of wrestling is not without assistance from the MoA."

[Speaking of, congratulations are in order for Matthew Engel. Those will be delivered in due time.]

"You've pretty much taken what's been thrown to you, and you've destroyed it. You've gotten your right to walk around, with your chin up, and your chest out, letting that light glint off of your belt the way that it only can when it's on the waist of someone with a grand, bronze spray-on tan that only you or an Oompa Loompa could possess."

"And your last match... it was damn good. Almost an epic. Almost a loss. And it's almost just like what you said to Figgins last week."

"Your sparkler is getting to the end of its life. Despite this being only your first slip-up, it's a sign to me that the limelight on Showtime is starting to burn out, and I have confidence that I will be the one to finally snuff the flame, yet again. I'm curious, Marcus. Are you still under the impression that you're better than me? Or have you been humbled by time?"

"I doubt I really have to ask. I'm sure you've been knocking back those brews harder than ever in your time off, so the intelligence has drained like water from a strainer. Damn shame, because unlike our previous encounters, Marcus, you'll actually need to use your head this time. And just to make things fair, Marcus, I'm going to give you some advice and say -- despite how apparently orgasmic it is for you -- it'd probably be best not to use it as a shield when I'm bashing in your skull."

[Come to think of it, maybe that only happens when Jay does it to him.]

"Marcus, I've never been a big fan of technicality. Draws... have never been that appealing to me. That's why I'm not going to allow one to happen this week. I'm sure you were thankful for that time limit when the referee declared the match a draw. It did, after all, keep that belt soundly on your waist for one more day, one more week. But how much longer can you really let your body take the punishment dealt by the likes of... Jacob Figgins? Showtime, if you can't take on a newcomer without looking pitiful, you're going to have a hell of a time with me."

[Granted, newcomers are made to be cautious around. I scratch my head, and stand up from the bench.]

"There was a time when my gimmick was to talk about change, and revolution, and how it was associated with my name. How I was the greatest thing since sliced bread, and how I was the evolution of this business. And I'm going to do something truly revolutionary for you, Marcus. I'm going to save you your breath for you by answering my own question."

"You haven't changed a bit, Showtime. You haven't been humbled by time, you're still walking with that cocky swagger that Project-X did until his face was melted by Bud Adams. You're still that little sparkler that came about in the CWA. You're dull. You're boring. You're burnt-out."

[I smile, a Cheshire Cat in the dark of Illinois, with the Chicago skyline behind me as I turn and the cameras follow me. There's a lawsuit from Chamelion.]

"But as the Monty Python movie says, Marcus: 'Always look on the bright side of life.' At least you have the best seats in the house."

[Cut to black.]