Nathan Krespin, known in the Unreal Tournament sector as
simply Krespin, woke up with a bland taste in his mouth that he was beginning
to grow accustom to. Doctors of the Liandri Rules Board credited this side
effect to being respawned many times over his UT career. The correct term for
'respawn' was Post Death Recreation or PDR, and that the taste was caused by
the bodies attempt to stabilize fluids that the body lost during respawning.
All Nathan needed to know was how to cure it. Doctors said that it was simply a
side effect that would take care of itself over time.
He crawled out of bed and stumbled to his bathroom,
hitting the switch that opened his window blinds of his eightieth story
apartment, high above the city of Gilder on New Terra. He looked in the mirror,
his silver hair in devilish twists and curls, and fumbled for his toothbrush to
scrub his mouth of the taste. When he was done with that, he took a shower and
took inventory of 46 years worth of scars. His most impressive scar had nothing
to do with the tournament and was actually caused during his childhood when he
fell off a ladder his father had told him not to climb.
With towel on waist, he went to the kitchen where a box
of corn flakes stood, opened, and half finished. He sat and began crunching
away on his breakfast when he picked up the morning paper his housecleaner left
before she finished her work for the day. Nathan flipped past all the sections
that had to do with the outside world, like politics and crime, and went
straight to the sports section, the section that had updates on all the Unreal
Tournament events. Looking to see who won last night's team deathmatch, he
noticed an article with his name. The article was titled, "Curtains for
Krespin".
"What the-", he said continuing to read. The article said
that in the latest popularity poll of UT combatants, that Krespin's popularity
as an entertainer was reaching an all time low. Nathan was particularly
infuriated with the comment by the up and coming rookie to UT, Othello, who
said, "It's time that someone tell grandpa Krespin to hit the showers". Was
this how they treated athletes who gave their all for more then fifteen years
in a sport where most never lived past their second? Was this how they treated
an athlete to win the Deathmatch trophy five times and Capture the Flag trophy
three times? A man who was ranked number one more years then anyone? He
continued to read:
"… earlier today, Hector Manning, spokesmen for
the Liandri Programming Board, stated that the once
lucrative athlete known to his fans as Killer Krespin
would no longer be returning to the Tournament
on account of his recent slump on the battlefield…"
"Those bastards," he said reaching over and grabbing his
videophone, "dial Dante Bello!"
"Yes Nathan," the phone responded.
Dante Bello was Nathan's public representative. He was
the stereotypical grease bag agent. Naturally he was suave, handsome, and
always wore sunglasses, even when he was indoors. Often, Nathan considered
firing him but Dante was the best in the business and was responsible for
getting him the opportunity to get an interview for the tournament in the first
place. He was also the reason that Nathan still lived as comfortably as he did,
managing to get him endorsements even though he hadn't placed in the top ten
fighters in over four years.
On the other end of the phone Dante responded, "Now I
know what you're going to say Nathan."
"Then why don't you save me the trouble of going
ballistic on you and tell me how you're going to resolve this!"
Dante took off his sunglasses. "I've all ready gotten you
a meeting with Jerl Liandri himself, scheduled for four o'clock."
"You're going to
be there right?"
"Well that's the thing Nathan, I've got a meeting with a
new client of mine and I won't be free."
"You've got to be kidding me? You turn and leave me when
I need you most. Who the fuck is it Dante? Who? You worthless sack of shit."
"I'm worthless? Why don't you tell me who was your
guardian angel when you managed to come in last place for the last five
months?" Dante rubbed his hair back before continuing; "It's time I move on to
up and coming athletes, which is why I'm now representing Othello."
Nathan jumped up, throwing his seat backwards," You know
the only reason I'm not as good as I was, is because of something PDR related!
It's as if right at the most important times in the match I get this dragging
feeling that weighs me down."
"Be that as it may, I see no point in dragging my career,
as an agent, down with you. You were great Nathan, but that was a long time
ago."
"You listen to me, and you listen good. I'm going to make
a comeback the likes of which has never been seen before. I'm going to get a
match with Othello and when I kill him, I'm going to ram his severed head down
your fucking throat!"
"Good luck," Dante said with a smile just before Nathan
cut the communication.
