Mercy Versus Me (The Ecology)

[AshCandor]

Woah, Mercy versus me
Limiting mistakes, reduced to zero…
Where did all the bruises go?
Talent in the Lion’s Den that shows from the north and south and east

Woah, Mercy versus me
Being brave even though they don’t need another hero
You waste another motion, open your eyes and see
A peaceful purity

Woah, Mercy versus me
Wrestling’s a game of trading cruelty, oh
A submission on the ground could get you by
Or be graceful as birds who live for high impact flyin’

Oh, Mercy versus me
I’ll sing another song of unity
LDFC’s an overcrowded land
But I am free to choose a plan to withstand it all…

(with respect due to ‘Mercy Mercy Me (The Ecology) by Marvin Gaye)

-

Echo stepped through a doorway; one not separated from the next room by a door but merely by beads hanging down, and they produced a soft wooden clacking sound when they fell back upon each other when she stepped through. The room had a soft haze in it produced by a hookah sitting on the table in which burned perfectly legal substances, in case any of the brass was wondering. She had some old school Marvin Gaye playing in the background, vintage vinyl as if there was any question. Echo sat on a rug cross-legged in faded bellbottom jeans with various plaid patches on them, a tie-dyed floral blouse with several rings upon her fingers. Her hair was extra curly and poofed out producing a golden fire as the sun rays hit it just right through a nearby window. Dark peace sign sunglasses upon her face, but she removed them and looked into the camera. Her eyes were a bit spaced and vacant and pretty as usual, and on a laid-back afternoon such as this a vast universe drifted within them. She smiled and brought her fingers together in her lap.

“What’s going on, Lion’s Den? This week the wrestling gods have granted me a gift in the opportunity to tussle with the saucy Sheila from the land down under…. The mercifully adorned yet mercilessly pretty Mercy Williams. Now honey bunch, I can respect that you dance to the beat of your own drum, man. You let your freak flag fly and do it with such style and grace… you could be the posh flower child walking down Haight-Ashbury in sunny San Francisco in the Summer of ’69 and you’d fit right in. With your skirts and heels, ain’t that it? Don’t ever change babe, it’s you… it’s SO you. Somebody trying to put you in a box of their own making, well the joke’s on them… turns out they’re the ones that are squares, Daddy-O.”

She had up the index finger and thumb of each hand to form a square for visual emphasis, giggling slightly before letting her hands fall back down.

“But just so you know, Mercy… I’m not your typical cornflake either, the real deal mother’s milk never leaves me soggy. I’ll always be a beacon of light that shines through the purple haze.”

She took a hit off the hookah and exhaled.

“It’s the time of the season, Mercy… a new chance to ride the wave, catch some rays… cruisin’ right along. Everybody here was something else before and now we just wanna be somethin’ more… learn a craft and impress. Baby, I don’t wanna tread water… I want to catch that wave cresting, feel that rush as it heads toward the inviting shore. The inviting shore of bigger and better things, as I get better at this gig called wrestling. First and foremost, I’m going to go into this match with you and I’m going to prove to myself that I’ve been getting stronger every day, my skill growing more and more in harmony with the song of life. To prove to you that the Peacemaker is not a wilting lily but a sunflower that turns to face the day basking in the glow of what dearest Mother Nature has so blissfully provided for us each bright shining morning. And you might look prettier than more, or dress prettier than me… but precious Mercy, I’m gonna wrestle prettier than you. And for you two out of three ain’t bad… but I’ll happily take the one and shine on ‘til tomorrow. Let it be…”

She put her glasses back on, bobbing her head to the music, letting her hands float out to the sides as if riding a musical wave.

“THAT’S what’s going on…”