Scorpion stared at a crowd, disappointment being the most prominent facial expression. His hand squeezed at the space between his eyebrows, accentuating his frustration. In front of him were (essentially) clones of him, yet in diverse(-ish) forms. Male, female, tall, short, lean, chubby, horse, and they all wore the same black-and-yellow scheme as if they were mocking the Shirai Ryu, angering Scorpion even more. Few of them were pretty- no beautiful- by everyone's standards. This only pissed him off. Most of them were disturbingly botched, even the supposed "fairest" ones. One of them in particular caught Scorpion's attention.

She had brown eyes and thin lips, her complexion fairly tanned. Her hair was long and brown, a black headband tied around her head. She appeared extremely chipper, for her smile can easily seen even through her veil (if she wore one). She twirled her rope and kunai counter-clockwise, not giving a damn if she harms anyone. More for her, she figured. She seemed to be a forgotten enemy, judging by her... distaste for his deceased wife, Kana ("I. HATE. HER!") and wearing an outfit that was also an insult to strippers: a tiny, black, leather top with laces on the front exposing her (unbelievably ample) cleavage, very tight, black shorts (that also seemed to be made of leather), and black thigh-high boots (that, again, looked to be made of leather), all with red trimmings and a skull on her hip.

Scorpion approached this woman, his blank eyes somehow conveying his heightened anger. His index finger lifted her chin.

"What is your name?" Scorpion asked her.

"Ara Blast," she answered without hesitation. In fact, she seemed pretty happy to give her name.

The horse turned to Scorpion, as if to say something.

"Tell me: is it true you don the colors of the Shirai Ryu."

"Sometimes."

"Why is that?"

"Don't play coy, hubby," she cooed. "You know why."

"Hubby?" he asked, unfamiliar with the term.

"Husband?"

"Tell me, Ara, since WHEN THE FUCK WAS I YOUR HUSBAND?!"

"Not all the time."

"Yeah. She also got the hots for Ermac," shouted another clone.

Scorpion left the girl alone and walked over to the voice's owner. He was unmasked, pale, and had green eyes... He thinks. He seemed to have a buzz cut of sorts, the rest of his wavy blond hair bunched on the top of his head. He wore the exact same attire Scorion wore, only in a considerably smaller size.

"And you are?"

"Ben," sighed the man.

"Somehow, I doubt that."

"And that's your business because?"

"You're not Ara, Hellfire, Nightflame, Magneus, or Tyrone. I find that a bit suspicious."

"Why's that?"

"Because your name isn't special. Therefore, allegedly, you aren't special."

"But I am. I'm the only one who can break the fourth wall."

"What?"

"Never mind. Ara just thinks she has you wrapped around her finger. She likes to pretend your wife and son never existed and has a thing for Ermac. Her likings are fueled by the real-life artist's indecisive tastes and hormones."

"So... she's a self-insert Mary Sue?"

"Exactly! Now you're learning the power of breaking the fourth wall! And don't you find it a bit suspicious that she, if not all of us, have a similar outfit to yours?"

"Yes."

"It means they chose a character and then created a poorly-developed OC for them in order to more-or-less fulfill their perverse sexual lust, er, 'fantasies'."

"And you? And the men?"

"Copycats," he dully replied. "I hate this."

"Why?"

"I was created to be like you! I'm not allowed to develop outside of that!"

"Who's stopping you now?!" Scorpion yelled.

"NO ONE!" he yelled, and he tore off his sleeveless garbs, revealing that somehow, he wore a black, sequined suit jacket with the sleeves still intact, black sequined dress pants, and a black dress shirt and tie underneath, complete with black dress shoes. "I am me!"

The enormous man known as Magneus ripped off his garbs, which had sleeves, and revealed a red and orange wrestling trunks and matching mask. "I want to be a professional wrestler!" boomed Magneus.

The petite, redheaded, green-eyed, dark-skinned one known as Hellfire stripped herself of her ninja outfit and yelled, "I'm gonna be a pastry chef!" And to top it off, she already wore the chef's ensemble.

"I'm gonna be a rock star!" cheered Nightflame. Nightflame's voice was slightly deep, and it didn't help that the brown hair was long and covered the pair of eyes and didn't really show Nightflame's cheeks and chin, and neither feminine nor masculine features were visible. Nightflame wore a fur coat, a pair of jeans, and the glitter ended up being thrown at Magneus' trunks, while the glittery star-shaped sticker ended up on his mask, which only improved whatever killer wrestler look he was going for.

"Wait!" shouted Ara. "Don't you want to marry the Kombatant of your dreams?"

The former Scorpion-wannabes stared coldly at her.

"Scorpy!" she chirped. "You agree with me, don't you? My Scorpion. My sweet, soft Scorpion."

"I am neither sweet nor soft! And I am not yours!"

"Throw her in the acid vat!" Ben yelled.

"YEAH!" shouted the rest.

"Wait! No! You wouldn't do this to me, would you, Scorpion?"

Scorpion sighed. Of course not.

"Of course I wouldn't throw you in the acid vat," he mumbled.

The crowd groaned. Very. Very. Very loudly.

"I'D BURN YOU ALIVE WITH MY OWN BREATH!"

The crowd roared, nearly deafening the spectre.

Scorpion quickly pulled his mask off, facing Ara Blast. At full force, he expelled the hellfire at her, not holding back. He savored the sounds of her skin crackling and the smell of roasted flesh, which, oddly enough, smelled like beef.

She fell to the ground, bones turned into black ashes, skin no longer existent, and flesh converted into thin, leathery wisps.

The crowd stared, silence overcoming them. Nightflame was the one to slowly start clapping, followed by Ben, who went a little faster, and soon enough, Scorpion was met with few fast claps. Justified, since there was only four people clapping. Unless you count Tyrone, who was stomping the ground with a hoof.

"Now we throw her in the-"

Scorpion accidentally launched his kunai at Ben's head, blood splattering across the other three, leading to his instant death.

No one clapped that time.

A month later, Ben was buried in a local cemetery. The funeral was paid by Daisy (Hellfire), whose dream of being a pastry chef panned out nicely, along with some generous donations from Nightflame and Magneus. Scorpion had chosen the plot, and arranged for the funeral. Nightflame cancelled two gigs to attend the funeral, stating it was for personal reasons. Magneus also ditched the ring, if only temporarily.

The tombstone was based on a note that was hidden in the sequined suit's pockets. It [the tombstone] read:

R.I.P.

Ben

Don't die a phony.

The four surrounded Ben's tombstone, bowing their heads, not shedding a tear. The sun shone brightly, the sky was blue. Mother Nature mocked them. Or so they thought.

Nightflame, Daisy, and Magneus walked into the adjacent church. Scorpion declined for obvious reasons. Daisy insisted, pleading Scorpion to just light a candle. The result was not pretty.

Scorpion could already feel himself melt when stepping into the building. The three guided him to a small shrine with some incense burning and three candles lit, black sequins on the molten wax that pooled below the small, gilded dishes in which the candles stood.

Daisy handed him a candle, which was already reduced to half. Scorpion decided to summon the hellfire for good... And accidentally set the church carpets on fire. So they all ran to another church. Well, the rest did while Scorpion ended up in another church by accident.

A wedding took place at that certain church, and Scorpion bursting in only managed to have most, if not all pairs of eyes on him.

"Who's stopping you?"

"No one! I am me!"

I am me.

And so he tore off his garments... To his dismay, there was no clothing underneath.

The church was instantly filled with gasps. "Exile!" one shouted. And Scorpion was pelted with purses and shoes, leaving bruises all over his body.

As he was expelled from the church, he started to dress in his alternate outfit when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Hey."

"Hey," he responded.

"So, you've been exiled."

"Yes."

"From the country?"

"Yep."

"Where are we, anyways?"

"We're in Great Britain, Ben."

Ben?