![]() My mug got broadcasted all over the world to keep the poor distracted and the rich spending money. It happened a while after I was crowned champion of the World Combat Games. Glory trumped friends, sleep, health, sanity. My mantra was "glory trumps all" and I totally believed it. But soon, winning became my high: I needed it to breathe! The crowd went NUTS when I pulled off a signature move - and that was all I cared about! The cheers, the prestige. I was grateful at the time - it was a pretty sweet setup. They invested MOUNTAINS of cash into making me the perfect athlete. I WAS pretty good, but I was just a kid who wanted to throw a ball around, man!Īnyway, Korp bought me up. ![]() Apparently I was showin' signs of a "hyper-athletic predisposition". When I was a tyke, just five years old, I got sold - auctioned off to whichever one of those fancy competitive sports breeders wanted me most. ![]() You know the story - I'm glorious, baby! But glory ain't all it's made out to be.
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