Left beaten, bloodied and bruised in a ditch somewhere, @MadMikeMarsbergen lost the Pot 1 Finals of SmackDown: The Second Coming to @torontojim (who later ended up winning the Grand Finals, too). Now he's back to get some revenge on all you competit...
MadMike lay in the dark and waited to die. His unerring knack for making the wrong decision at the wrong time had finally led to this. He'd gambled and he'd cheated. He'd bet on the wrong women and slept with the wrong horses. Or maybe it was the other way around. Didn't matter. Either way, his past had caught up with him and he'd been tossed down this well to die.
So this is how it ends, he thought. He tried to resign himself to his fate, but a little spark of anger deep inside wouldn't die. In fact it began to grow. And grow. It grew until it became an enormous ball of rage.
The rage was partly due to MadMike's resentment of his predicament. But it was mostly due to the cache of radioactive waste buried just a few feet from where he lay. Russian nuclear waste that Donald Trump had agreed to store, purely as an act of goodwill between nations. And maybe for the odd favour. Or two. No pressure.
Silently the radioactive particles penetrated MadMike's body and caused subtle but strange changes to his DNA. His puny body began to grow, every hair on his body fell out, his eyes began to glow with a strange green light and his rage became all encompassing. He was no longer MadMike. He was now MegaMadMike. It was time for revenge.
The walls of the well proved too slippery to climb, so MegaMadMike was forced to headbutt his way out. The gleaming dome that was now his pate pounded into the well wall, over and over. The wall began to crack, his brains began to leak out of his ears, but gradually MegaMadMike burrowed his way to the surface. At a bounding run he set off for the local mob den.
Being late at night his approach had the advantage of darkness, but the disadvantage of being twenty foot tall and fluorescent. The men on watch saw him coming from a block away and let loose with a deadly hail of machine gun fire.
Bullets bouncing off his radioactively toughened skin, MegaMadMike covered the remaining ground in a few strides. "Ri'm rungry!" he roared (the radioactivity had affected his voicebox as well, for some reason causing him to talk like Astro from the Jetsons) before snatching up and eating his assailants. He smashed his way inside the den, to confront the mob don, the man who had ordered his murder. "Ri'm rack!" he roared.
The don stroked his chin. "Hello, my friend. Spare my life and I'll make you an offer you can't refuse. After all, revenge is a dish best served cold."
"Ro rit risn't!" bellowed MegaMadMike, before eating him and his cat as well. "Rupid rovie rereotypes!"
And so began the reign of Don MegaMadMike, the biggest badass in town. And the greenest.
