“Je ne comprendes, amigo.”

Nice and simple, another video shot via webcam. Eugene looked slightly tired, but that’s to be expected after the marathon he’d just endured.

No, he hadn’t been running, don’t be so foolish. He’d just partaken in a Battlestar Galactica marathon, and returned to his computer to be greeted by another video from his next opponent, Michel LaLiberte.

A video that needed a response.

“Seriously, I told you like... almost instantly I didn’t take french, yet you still continue to babble on in your soon to be defunct tongue.” Eugene said trying to prevent himself from laughing, “Well... it’ll be defunct if we’re to believe Matt Groening and Futurama.”

It was no use, Eugene’s face cracked and a wide smile spread across his lips. He took a few seconds to compose himself before continuing. “I tried my best to decipher your latest message to me, I really did. But I’ve not done that well. Although, having said that, however... I think I might have picked up a couple of things, so please, allow me to present my rebuttal.”

He cleared his throat with an audible ‘ahem’ and lifted a sheet of paper into shot. He tapped the bottom of the sheet against his desk and proceeded to read as though he were broadcasting the news.

“‘Difficile’...” he pondered, “I’m pretty sure that means difficult. And yes, I am doing my best to make this difficult for you, and I’ll continue to do so when we step in the ring together in a few days time. It took me a long time to end my losing streak, and I really don’t plan on starting another one just yet, so of course I’m going to make everything as difficult as possible.”

“I’d also like to thank you for your congratulations on something.” He added, sounding genuinely grateful, “At least, that’s what I assume you meant when you said ‘tray bee an’. I’m a little hazy on what exactly it is you’re congratulating me, but I guess it’s the thought that counts.”

Eugene looked straight down the lens and shared an impressed look with the world.

“Honestly though, after that, there’s just a whole bunch of blerblerbler talk.” he continued confusedly, “I think I’d look pretty stupid trying to pick that apart.”

Eugene skipped down a large chunk of his sheet. He speed read a couple of lines

“Ahhh, yes, now, I know the word frair. And it’s not what people call ‘Total Elimination’ Eli Flair in Asia.” He said with a titter. “It’s brother, isn’t it?”

Eugene sighed.

“I knew he’d be dragged into this somehow, and though I really don’t want to go over it, I’ll do it for you, seeing as you missed a lot last week.” He said. Even if he hadn’t mentioned not wanting to go it it, his voice clearly gave that impression by itself. “Wayne upped and left over a misunderstanding. I didn’t want him to leave either, in fact, I wanted him to stay. But, Wayne being Wayne, he blew the whole thing out of proportion and now won’t even look at, let alone speak to, me. There, happy?”

Eugene looked back at his sheet and struggled to find where he left off. “blerblerbler, flair...” He whispered to himself before finding his place, “Ahh here, then there’s something about ‘special’ breakfast pastries, with my choice of condiments and...”

He hesitated to read his interpretation of the next line “implanting them? into someone’s posterior?”

Eugene looked sick to his stomach, but he battled through to continue.

“I’ll tell you right now, Michel.” He said, his stomach still clearly churning, “You talk all you want about me, my brother, even my mother if you haven’t already... But if I ever see you waste a delicious, all butter pain au chocolat, or any food for that matter, by shoving up your ass for some kind of sick pleasure... I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Eugene calmed himself before continuing.

“Then I catch something that I do know about. Cortana, Lara Croft and Hot Coffee. Quite what you were saying about them though, I have no idea.” He shrugged, “But if you’ve found a mod that gets Cortana and Lara to replace CJ and whatever chick he’s banging, dude, seriously, can I have it?”

Although slightly hopeful, Eugene had obviously resigned himself to the knowledge that the aforementioned mod was nothing more than a pipe dream.

“Probably asking in vain there though because I think you go on to dub me...” Eugene said, checking his sheet to make sure he got the correct wording. “Captain Pathetic? Is that right?”

“Michel, all I wanted to be whole I was growing up was a superhero.” Eugene said reminiscently, “I wanted to fly like Superman, shoot webs like Spider-man, have a cool belt like Batman, bone claws like Wolverine... the list was endless... I used to tie a bed sheet around my neck and run around the garden, jumping off of things, trying to fly... I used to give myself all kinds of superhero names, like ‘Boy Wonder’, ‘Amazo the Amazing’, ‘The Amazing Super-Boy’, ‘Kid Fantastic’... That was my favorite.”

Although slightly dejected, Eugene held his chin up high.

“While I may not be known by any of those monikers today, who knows about tomorrow?” he said hopefully, “I still hold out hope I’ll be bitten by a radioactive mosquito or something.”

“But I’m gonna make it my duty to never been known as ‘Captain Pathetic’ at any time.” The determination was evident in his voice as he spoke, “Oh no, LaLiberte, after Heritage Seven, you’re going to be the one wearing that cape.”

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