One more chance.

I've got one more chance to prove myself against Mal Somers. But one thing is troubling me...

As much as I'd love to win that match, as much as I'd have loved to win against him in any fashion, and as much as I'm taking sick pleasure in watching every one of his friends turn their backs on X-Corp...

... there just seems to be something a little... off. And not just with Mal, either. It seems the entire WWA has been turned topsy-turvy.

First, we've got a bunch of rookies coming in trying to make a name for themselves. Hopefully for them, they can make a bit more of a splash than some of the other recent fellows. Luckily for the rest of us, most of them won't.

Second, we've got some schmuck trying to weasel his way in based on his performance in some strange tournament, sitting off and brooding like some pathetic emo kid.

Then, we've got our very own resident good guy turning even more Two-Face on us.

Finally... and this is the big one... we've got a monkey in charge of the whole place. It's bad enough those of us who happen to be Yanks have a simian running our lives from Washington, but I'll be damned if I'll have one telling me what to do at work, too. All I will say about that right now is that the more time I reluctantly spend with Mal, the closer I get to taking Harley's banana.

...

Please don't let anyone think that's a double entendre.

Either way, speaking of Mal, the few training sessions I've gotten through already haven't just given me insight on Dave. I'm going to use what I've learned Monday night. And what's more?

I'm going to do it clean. It will be much more satisfying that way.