Resist this: I take on La Resistance, sort of

by The Anonymous Enigma

Warning: Don't read if you like them, Ms. Long [I think it's a dude], or Bischoff. I don't hate all French people, just them. I messed up Rene's name on purpose. I plan on making this a saga. If you have ideas, include them in review. No flamers wanted.

11. Epilogue

The man stood in the weight-training gym, talking to the man behind the counter. Actually, he was just listening to a guy that couldn't shut up. The man's face wasn't recognized, as he was wearing sunglasses, but the guy behind the counter didn't care; he just wanted to talk to someone. They were discussing the latest WWE magazine. Anonymous was gracing the cover in the picture when he off the ladder and double-clotheslined Grenier and Dupre.

"That Anonymous guy kicks ass." The guy behind the counter said.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious." The man said. About a minute passed before he spoke again. "But he's better in person."

"You were there that night?"

"No."

"Then how do you know him?"

"I have my ways."

The guy behind the counter looked up at the man, and then down at a picture of Anonymous. "Who are you?"

The man reached into his pocket, and pulled out a sheet of paper. He put it facedown on the counter. "Give this to the next guy that walks in here." He said, and left the weight-training gym.

The man behind the counter looked at the door as the man left, but ignored the card like he had been told.

---

Paul Levesque hid his face in public so people wouldn't plague him for being HHH. Paul Levesque was his real name, but he didn't want to be swormed by people, which usually did. He got exceptionally pissed when teenage girls screamed in his face, which was what he was now trying to avoid. He parked his SUV about half a block away, put on a baseball hat and sunglasses, and started to walk down the sidewalk towards the weight-training gym to exercise.

---

He walked down the sidewalk, and someone bumped his shoulder. He turned around to yell at the guy, but a huge man with a trench coat and sunglasses stared him down. He continued down the sidewalk, and turned into the weight-training gym. He was visiting home, and was a frequent visitor to this place as he lived in the area.

"This was left for you." The guy behind the counter said.

Paul read the note, and his face turned grim. It said:

I am who you are not. I do whatever it is that you don't. I'm the one person you don't want to mess with. I'm the guy that bumped into you as you walked down the sidewalk. This is who I am; I am Anonymous. And you are next.