Monday, September 27, 2004


So there I was, trying my best to accomplish a lot of my work (Sans the Heidegger report. I don't know when I can do that.), and all of a sudden, when I finished with all my stuff, I ended up watching a whole bunch of Type II games in Magic. There's this nice girl who apparently also plays Magic, though I still have no idea what her name is... heh. In any case, I ended up going to Megamall afterwards for the Sbarro's dinner.

On my way there, I ran into Natz, my Chinese Philosophy classmate last summer. The interesting thing is that she and her friend were rather uninitiated to taking the LRT and MRT, so they ended up asking me for help to get them there in one piece. I happily obliged, and our conversation along the way turned out to be rather interesting. She knows Mr. Bulaong and Sacha, for instance, and moreover, she told me that a certain Rhea Go is already taken. Heh.

It was nice running into her again, really. We had a lot of nice things to talk about, and I was immensely happy about the whole experience of taking two uninitiated commuters to Megamall via MRT and LRT all the way from Ateneo...

Afterwards, it was dinner at Sbarro's. Needless to say, that was a mouthful.

.:Saturday Mayhem:.

For the most part, Saturday was a relatively quiet day. I was just trying to get some reading out of the way, and I was simply swamped with Heidegger work. Heh. In any case, I finally managed to finish my backlog to some extent, then I headed out to Megamall to meet up with Grace, as we wanted to go and shop in Mossimo, since my gift certificates were already about to expire...

It didn't take long afterwards, and we just went searching for a good set of clothes. I was mostly amused with our picks, although we really found a good shirt there...

Afterwards, I then went to Greenhills, where we were hoping for a tournament to finally push through. Despite that, the tourney ended up getting cancelled again, so now I have to ensure that I finish a letter to Comic Images about supplying Neutral Grounds with RAW Deal soon enough. Grace and I were really just spending a quiet Saturday at that point... nothing much else was happening.


Chris Benoit stands in the ring as the Undertaker makes his way to the arena. The live crowd is on their feet for the Dead Man. Tazz and Michael Cole sing the praces of TRL for setting up an amazing match to start off the tournament for the vacant Smackdown World Title. The bell rings after the Undertaker's entrance, and the two superstars stare each other down.

Cole: This is a promising match tonight on Smackdown! Undertaker versus Chris Benoit!

Tazz: Promising is an understatement, Cole. And we have a lockup to start the match!

Benoit and Undertaker lockup in the middle of the ring. Undertaker quickly powers out of the lockup, and Benoit springs back up for another one. The Phenom powers out again. Benoit then changes tactics, and tries to Irish Whip Undertaker, but the Dead Man reverses. Benoit bounces off the ropes, and is met with a flying clothesline. 'Taker then gets back up, and drops a leg across Benoit's throat.

Tazz: Looks like the Deadman has the advantage over the Crippler right now!

Cole: And how! Undertaker picks up Chris Benoit now, and does a sidewalk slam! 'Taker goes for the cover, one, no! Kick out at one! Not even close.

Benoit feels dazed, but he staggers to get up. Undertaker throws Benoit into the corner turnbuckle, and throws some punches.

Tazz: 'Taker's throwing some soupbones in the corner!

Cole: Look at Benoit now! He catches one of those punches, and sends the Dead Man in the corner! What a chop!

Tazz: You could hear that chop from here all the way to Omaha!

Benoit tries to swing the momentum in his favor. He chops Undertaker one more time, then whips him to the other corner and hits him with a vicious shoulder block, before chopping him again. Undertaker is beginning to reel from the hits. Benoit then kicks the Dead Man, then executes a perfect snap suplex. Benoit then goes for the cover.

Cole: Cover! One, two, no! Undertaker gets his shoulder up!

Benoit picks Undertaker up, and whips him into the ropes. Undertaker comes back and hits a running DDT. Both men are down, and the referee administer a ten-count. Soon enough, Undertaker gets up at the count of four. He motions for a chokeslam, as Chris Benoit staggers up.

Tazz: Chokeslam! Undertaker's got Benoit!

Cole: No! Benoit elbows his way out of it, and then hits a dropkick on Undertaker, knocking him off his feet! 'Taker gets up, and Benoit hits an arm drag! It looks like the Crippler is on a roll already!

Benoit feels the rush already. The Undertaker is vulnerable, and Benoit notices that the Undertaker is favoring his left arm. It's time to pick that limb apart, and set him up for the Crippler Crossface. Benoit wrenches Undertaker's arm, and then executes a hip toss. He then drops a leg across the arm, and the Undertaker writhes in agony.

Cole: Benoit smells blood! Look at him methodically pick that arm apart.

Benoit picks Undertaker up, and hits a backbreaker, then goes back to the arm, but 'Taker immediately gets to the ropes. Undertaker then tries to get up, and as Benoit runs to him, the Dead Man hits a back body drop near the ropes that sends Benoit sailing out of the ring. Benoit lands flat on his back.

Tazz: Looks like this match has taken a detour!

Undertaker catches a breather in the ring as Chris Benoit lay motionless on the outside. The referee starts counting Benoit out, and the Undertaker then rolls out of the ring to take the fight to the outside. Benoit manages to whip the Dead Man into the steps. While the Phenom was laid out by the steel steps, Benoit regains his bearings, and then rolls the Dead Man back into the ring for the cover. Undertaker kicks out at two.

Benoit picks up the Undertaker, and the Dead Man breaks the hold and hits a big boot on the Crippler. Undertaker drops an elbow on Benoit, then picks him up right again and executes a vertical suplex. Undertaker motions for another Chokeslam, and hits it this time.

Tazz: Chokeslam! Chokeslam! The cover! One! Two! Th... no! How close was that! Benoit just kicked out by instinct!

Undertaker picks Benoit up again, and attempts a Tombstone. Benoit manages to squirm out of it, and then converts it into the Crossface.

Cole: The Crippler Crossface is locked on! Undertaker is reaching for the ropes, and he makes it... but whoa! Benoit flips him out to the other side! Will the Undertaker tap out? I can't remember the last time I've seen that happen.

Tazz: That Crossface has been on for what appears to be forever. He's not going to let this guy go.

Cole: I can't believe it! 'Taker's tapping out! It's over! Benoit wins this match!

Undertaker looks at Benoit in disbelief the moment Benoit releases the hold. He can't believe he tapped out to the Crossface. Undertaker then staggers up, and offers a hand to Benoit. After a few moments of hesitation, the both of them shake hands.

Tazz: You gotta give it to the Undertaker. He's a class act.

While the match is over, it's pretty clear that the long trek to the top for Chris Benoit has just begun.

A Short Story by Marcelle T. Fabie

”Martin? You there?”

I woke up in the middle of the night, only to hear an all-too-familiar voice on the end of the other line. It was Geneva. The tone in her voice sounded rather different this time, though. Something was up, and I willed myself to stop being groggy.

”Yes, Geneva. Why?”

Hesitation from her end. I can tell Geneva was choosing her words carefully. Something was definitely amiss here, and I felt more and more alarmed.

”I think it'd be best if we talked about this face to face. Swing by my house in about an hour's time...”

”At this time? At your place? You realize how hard it is to commute to your house, don't you?”

”So take a taxi. Please. I'd really appreciate this. I have some roast Peking duck in the microwave to make it worth your while.”

”Fine. You win. I'll be there.”

I quickly freshened up and got changed. I got out of my house and took a cab all the way to her house in Cavite. Good heavens. Cavite. Here I was, sleeping soundly in my house in San Juan, and I'm headed to Cavite in the middle of the ruddy night. This had better be good, considering how underslept I've been for the past couple of weeks.

Then again, Geneva is my best friend. I don't think I could stay mad at her for long even if this turned out to be another one of those trivial “emergencies” of hers.

As expected, it took me over an hour to get to her place. I paid the cabbie, then knocked at her door. She promptly opened the door and then hugged me tightly. I sensed that she was very distraught.

”There, there, Geneva,” I said, as I cautiously patted her on the head, and began to feel teardrops on my shoulder. This seemed rather serious. “What's wrong?”

”It's Paul. He... he... broke up with me.”

It took me a moment or two before the news sank in. Paul is also a close friend of mine. I never even knew they were together to begin with. However, I realized now wasn't the time to confront her about her neglecting to tell me about this, so I decided to stay silent and let her do the talking. She was still hugging me, and I was still patting her head gently. I prodded her to continue.

”I'm sorry. I know I never told you. But I just thought you might be hurt, because...”

”Say no more. I understand. Just tell me what happened.”

”I-I didn't want to migrate with him to Germany. I just didn't want to.”

Geneva was trying to regain her composure, although she was still sniffling uncontrollably. Her attempts to stifle her tears were rather futile. Nonetheless, I then held her by her shoulders and looked at her. Her pretty face, marred by swollen eyes that have been crying for hours on end. She tried to force a smile, but she could hardly muster one at this point. A curious mixture of commiseration and hope came over me. I ignored this feeling, and focused my attention on her again.

”I don't blame you, Geneva. I understand how much your career means to you.”

I've known Geneva for years. She's a devoted career woman, who refuses to let anything, and I mean anything, get in the way. I've managed to precariously be her best friend for the past couple of years simply because I understood and respected that. She knew I was the last person to push her to do otherwise. That much, we had in common. I was pretty much as headstrong as she was for the most part.

”Breakups aren't that bad, Geneva. For all we know, he'd be running back to you by tomorrow, begging to be taken back. I know Paul. He loves you so much.”

”He's gone, Martin. Paul left for Germany just this morning.”


I was stunned. There was a sense of finality to the whole thing. Paul put Geneva on the spot with this one, and I can't help but feel that both of them are going to get really hurt with this. It's not like I can just call up Paul and try to change his mind about this. He's pushed through with going to Germany already.

Geneva began to get teary-eyed again. I led her to the couch and let her sit down, as I moved beside her. I tried to calm her, but she was already inconsolable.

I can't stand to see her cry.

It just wrenched at me that I was powerless to do anything about it. She loves Paul. That much was rather clear. I realized that they were bound to be together the moment I was with them in the Chinese restaurant. The way they held hands with one another that night told me all I needed to know. I knew it was wrong for me to have felt the way I felt about it at the time, but I couldn't have helped it.

”I don't know if I should just swallow my pride and follow him there... You know I... never felt this way about anyone before...”

I looked at her, alarmed at the rash proposition. ”Are you sure?”

”Y-yes. No. I-I don't know.”

”I figured as much.”

Geneva was confused. She had no idea what to do about her feelings. After all, Paul was the first person she ever got into a relationship with. Now, it's over, and the decision she had to make to get him back was anything but simple. I know Paul. It's not that he doesn't love Geneva, either. It's simply that Germany was always a dream for him. It was clearly a clash of egos, and this would be a stalemate until the moment one of them buckled.

”You want me to talk to him? I can e-mail him or something.”

”No. You don't have to.”

It's really hard being close friends with the both of them. I can't think of two other people who were more adamant about what they wanted than they were.

She looked at me as I handed her a tissue to wipe her tears away. I realized that beneath the seemingly fragile exterior, Geneva was as tough as nails. Here she was, madly in love with Paul, and yet she still refused to let go of her career for him. I wished I knew how to make her feel better at this point, but it was really up to her how she wants to go about this...

”I'm sorry to hear all this.”

”I'm just grateful you're here, Martin..”

”I just wish I could do something...”

”Your presence is all I need. Thanks, Martin. I knew I could always count on you.”

Of course you could always count on me! Of course I'll always be there for you! As if there was any need to doubt that. It's clear as day that I...

... My thoughts get interrupted as she hugs me tightly again. Taken by surprise, I got knocked down on the couch, and she ended up rather close to me. Rather dangerously close to me...

She closed her eyes and I closed mine. We were coming even closer together. I felt her warm, sweet breath as our lips came closer and closer. I've been longing for this moment for years. I felt an intoxicating rush wash over me...

I pulled away at the last moment.

”I'm sorry, Geneva. I can't do this.”

”No. I'm sorry,” she begins. She starts speaking rapidly, in an attempt to save face. ”We're not supposed to be doing this. We're just best friends, right? No more than that. I don't love you, you don't love me, and...”

”I do, Geneva. I love you. With all my heart. That's precisely why this is not right.”

”I don't understand...”

”I wish I did.”

Right across the couch where we were was a picture frame with a photograph of Paul and Geneva together. The fresh lip marks on the frame told me everything I needed to know, and what the deal really was.

Geneva is my best friend. Nothing more.

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