Introducing: Clement Claremont

Mud Mouth sits in his apartment, the television is on. There are old chinese take-out cartons, empty beers, blunt wrap packaging and various other trash littered all over the place. An N64 that has been left on since 2003 rests next to the television set which itself is from 2003. “The Cosmic Drifter” as he coined for himself, hasn’t exactly been lighting up the skies..

Mud Mouth sips a bottle of Molson and stares blankly at the X-Men: Animated series playing in front of him. Who knows how long he has been sitting in this chair? Perhaps an entire week now. Mud Mouth’s phone buzzes. He has received a text message which reads:

Clement Claremont:
Let’s talk about it some more.

Clement Claremont:
How about now? I am outside your apartment.

The doorbell rings and Mud Mouth gets up and walks over to the buzzer, buzzing Clement Claremont into the building. Clement slowly walks up the stairs to the second floor and makes his way down the hallway to Mud Mouth’s door. He knocks three times and Mud Mouth opens the door.

Mud Mouth:
Yo… what up, Clement?! Ain’t seen you since a still full of moonshine exploded all over your face. You healed up nicely, to be honest, I thought you were going to end up looking more like Freddy Kreuger.

Mud Mouth eyes him up and down noticing his all black attire. A pair of black leather loafers on his feet, a slim-cut pair of black slacks, a black tee, and a black leather jacket. He is dressed far nicer than Mud Mouth who is in some dang Ninja Turtle sweats and a cut-off Metallica t-shirt.

Mud Mouth:
Your drip ain’t drab no more.

Clement Claremont flashes a sharp-looking grin.

Clement Claremont:
Not any more.

Mud Mouth turns around and walks back toward the kitchen.

Mud Mouth:
You want a beer?

Mud Mouth reaches the fridge and turns around to see Clement Claremont still standing there in the doorway with the door wide open. Mud Mouth looks puzzled and then with a hint of annoyance says:

Mud Mouth:
Come on in.

Clement Claremont smiles and steps in, letting the door shut behind him. He surveys the pig stye and steps carefully to the couch.

Mud Mouth:
Don’t mind the mess… I’ve been meanin’ to pick. I just ain’t found time.

Clement Claremont sits.

Clement Claremont:
What have you been doing with your time?

Mud Mouth:
Not much, dawg. Just been chillin’ gettin’ my drink and smoke on. Playin’ some No Mercy and just livin’ dawg. L-I-V-I-N. You want a beer?

Clement Claremont scowls at the dirty bong resting on the coffee table in front of him.

Clement Claremont:
No, thank you.

Clement flips through the old TV Guide magazine sitting on the coffee table. The cover is littered with coffee rings and beer spills. His face is a mask of disgust.

Mud Mouth reaches in the fridge and pulls out another Molson, he cracks it open and downs a big gulp. Belching as he waddles back to the sofa.

Clement Claremont:
This can't be everything you want out of life? Living here in this shitty apartment, putting up this big front like you're a born star while you're stacking three losses.

Mud Mouth:
Hey the Caribbean Cup doesn't count!

Clement cocks an eyebrow.

Clement Claremont:
Are you sure?

Suddenly they are interrupted by the sound of the toilet flushing and bathroom spray going off. The sink runs for a second and the door opens, Lil Stevie walks into the living room where Mud Mouth and Clement are seated.

Clement Claremont:
Stevie…

Lil Stevie gives Clement Claremont a distrustful look and takes a seat next to his cousin.

Lil Stevie:
That's Lil Stevie to you, Clement…

Lil Stevie notices the beer in Mud Mouth's hand.

Lil Stevie:
Yo, you got yourself a fresh one and didn't get me one, dawg?! What the hell is this?

Mud Mouth:
I'm talking to my manager, Stevie, get it yourself!

Lil Stevie:
Manager?! Since when were you gonna tell me?

Mud Mouth:
I just did and I told him just now too. Clement, I need a manager, someone that is going to watch my back out there, someone that is going to give me guidance when I need it and pump me up. Can you do that?!

Clement Claremont:
Of course.

Mud Mouth:
I don't know… you think your pasty ass can pump me up for a bit fight? Like say I get a shot a title? Your boring, cryptozoologist ass is gonna kickstart my heart? Like for real, dawg?

Clement Claremont:
Hey now, the study of and hunt for cryptids is full of thrills and adventure. But, Mud Mouth. I believe I can do that.

Clement Claremont's eyes almost seem as though they are glowing red. Mud Mouth isn't sure if it's the lighting or what. On the television Wolverine and Cyclops are butting heads and Mud Mouth is captivated by Clement Claremont's gaze. His eyes start to feel heavy and his mind drifts.

Mud Mouth is on the hunt. Well, maybe not him… but someone like him. He's seeing through their eyes. Maybe an ancestor of his, some memory stored deep down in his blood has awakened. He holds a spear and has finally managed to run down an antelope. He runs at the antelope full of hope, and joy, and murderous intensity. His heart almost beats out of his chest while the blood in his legs pumps so heavily he feels like they might burst.

Every muscle fiber activated, he plunges the spear forward.

Mud Mouth opens his eyes and he stands straight up. He can still feel that rush. His heart still pounds in his chest.

Lil Stevie:
Yo, what the Fudge is goin' on?!

Mud gives Clement five.

Mud Mouth:
Alright then! Let's Fudgein' go!

Lil Stevie:
Are we sure about this?

Mud Mouth looks at Clement Claremont.

Mud Mouth:
We start training tomorrow morning?

Clement shakes his head, slowly getting to his feet. He reaches in his coat and tosses a cigarette in his mouth, lights it and heads toward the door.

Clement turns around in a cloud of smoke.

Clement Claremont:
No, tomorrow night. We always train at night now. I'll see myself out. Good night, boys.

Clement opens the door and steps out into the hallway, heads down the stairs and steps out into the night.