Post by Gēmu on Oct 13, 2017 23:41:27 GMT -5
After his victory in Japan, Gemu went back to his adopted hometown of Sapporo to pack. This infuriated him for many reasons, to include the fact that he was going to the United States. Texas, to be precise. Second, his home was kind of disorganized and messy, a side effect of coming and going with haste, as is the life of a person consistently on the road. And finally, he had to let go of the lease on this apartment, which was roomy and choice, even for a place inside Japan, where space came at a premium.
He was distraught at the idea of first going to, of all places, Texas. The land where everyone had a gun. Even the homeless had guns! It was almost like as soon as someone shat a baby out of their womb, they were given a pistol to literally cut their teeth on, that is how big gun culture is in Texas. A scary thought, indeed.
As he packed his last bag, he considered his TAKA Katana, which he had won in a major Super Junior tournament that kicked off the federation, and decided that it must come with him. Granted, his relationship with TAKA was acrimonious right now, but it was a functioning weapon that may find some use in a land where everyone had guns. If not for sentimental reasons, the sword will at least be kept for practical reasons.
Gemu shed a few tears, as his landlady came by to pick up the keys. She was a middle-aged lady who had recently been widowed and left in charge of her very elderly husband's holdings. She asked, in Japanese...
Why must you leave? You were such a quiet tenant for an American.
My contract was sold, and now I've got to move back to America. It's so depressing to think about.
And you just got your citizenship! So sad.
Yeah. Sad is the best way to describe what I'm feeling. I thought I was through with America. It obviously didn't want me, so I left. I was so happy here.
I guess America isn't through with you, though. I wish you the best of luck, though. Just don't get shot over there.
I'll do my best. I'm going to Texas first, so...
Oh... Land of Western movies. Lots of guns there. You might want to get a gun for yourself.
Thought did cross my mind. Though I don't want to descend to the level of those barbarians, I might have no choice. Oh, here...
Gemu pulls out a pair of Easton hockey skates, and hands them to his landlord, saying...
Give these to your son. I know he liked them, but I cannot bring them with me. I hope they fit, and he gives them some use. I'm going to miss being able to walk right outside and go ice skating. That was always a good time.
The hockey league won't be the same without you. Take care of yourself. We will miss you.
Gemu nods his head, but in an uncharacteristic move, she hugs him as she bids him farewell, before parting from him and going about her business as the landlady. With any luck, he may return back to Sapporo and to this rental in no time.
The flight over from Japan was uneventful. The cab ride to the hotel was another story.
Catching a cab solo, since Candice decided to fly out earlier, he managed to find a cabbie who not only insisted on playing country music, but also wanted to talk about country music. The older cabbie says...
Man, I cannot wait for Blake Shelton to start touring again!
Whoever that is...
You been livin' under a rock, son?
I'm not into country music, and I'm not your son.
Excuse me for livin'. What do you do for a livin'?
Professional wrestler.
Ain'tchu a lil' small for pro wrasslin', son?
No, and I'll prove it to you if you call me "son" one more time. I know who my father is, and you are not it.
Well, I ain't ever seen ya ever wrassle. Then again, most of that shit's fake. I gave up on it in the early 90's, when it was all about tits and cussin'. Is it still about tits and cussin'?
Sometimes, but we mostly just beat the shit out of each other, after we say witty and sometimes funny shit about each other. Though sometimes someone gets real butt-hurt about what gets said.
Sticks and stones, I guess. So still a soap opera? What's your thing?
I wear a mask and act like an asshole. And I normally speak another language other than English while doing it.
But... You sound so American. Not from 'round here, but definitely American. Like New England or somewhere like it.
You have good ears. I was shat out in that God-forsaken part of the world, and lived there for too fucking long. But I'm out now, and doing my thing.
Good for you. Well, here we are. Good luck to ya. And bein' that this is Austin, ya might wanna get used to country music.
Guess I won't be going out all that much. Not that I planned on it. Here's for the ride...
Gemu reaches into his wallet, to find nothing but Yen bills inside of his wallet. Gemu then says...
Uh, I got a problem. Can we hit an ATM somewhere? I only have Japanese money.
What'chu doin' with all that Jappo money?
Living in Japan with it. Can you take me to an ATM or not?
I reckon, though I wouldn't mind me a Jappo dollar bill. I like collectin' money from other places.
I can give you 50,000 Yen. That's roughly how much this trip cost me, anyways.
I'll take it! Ya got coins, as well?
Oh, I got coins for days. I can probably pay you 50,000 Yen in coins alone. Here...
Gemu hands him some bills and several coins worth of Yen. The cabbie opens the trunk and Gemu gets out of the cab and retrieves his things before a bellhop can grab his stuff. Gemu gets his stuff out of the car, closes the trunk, and slaps the hatch before the cabbie pulls away from the hotel curb. The bellhop grabs some of Gemu's things and takes it to the check-in counter. Gemu has no issues getting his room.
With the bellhop in tow, Gemu gets himself into the room and relieves the bellhop of his belongings. As the bellhop rubs his fingers together, Gemu gives him a 1,000 Yen bill for his troubles. Gemu closes the door on the dumbfounded bellhop as he realizes that he has not been handed American money. Gemu was in mid bellyflop onto his bed, before he hears a knock on the door. Gemu gets to his feet and answers it, only to find the same bellhop standing there. Somewhere between his late teens and early 20's, he whines at Gemu...
Sir, this is Japanese money.
Glad you noticed...
But we're in America, and I'd prefer it if you gave me a tip in American money.
Okay, here's a tip. Don't just help yourself to other people's luggage without permission. And feel grateful that I even gave you anything. Is that a good tip, or what?
That dumbfounded look makes its way back onto the face of the bellhop, as Gemu once again shuts the door in his face one more time.
Several hours and a nap later, Gemu meets his translator Candice Yamamoto downstairs at the hotel restaurant. It allegedly served a good steak, but Gemu would be the judge of that. The restaurant also served an 8 oz. serving of Kobe beef, albeit at a whopping $500 price. Gemu passed on what would've been a pleasurable dining experience, and instead ordered a porterhouse with (surprisingly enough) a Sapporo Draft (better known as Sapporo Black in Japan), while Candice ordered, of all things, the chicken, with a white wine.
They powered through the meal with some zeal, barely a word spoken to each other, save for passing rolls, butter, and condiments. Once the meal was completed, they ordered after dinner drinks, which included another Sapporo Draft and another white wine for the two of them. Once their beverages came, on came the business of professional wrestling. Candice started off by saying...
You really came off as very unlikable here in the United States. The ratings for your match were low, considering the placement of the match, but you were a highlight. But not in a good way.
I'm not surprised. Americans hate anything that isn't American. Hell, the only thing they like that's Japanese is Toyota and Honda. Otherwise, they hate it.
Their hatred stemmed from your promo, especially when you threw the Sapporo cans at me.
Yeah, I ad-libbed a bit on that. Sorry. But it proved effective?
Oh yeah, but it might not be the right heat we're looking for. Sapporo Brewery also had something to say on it, as well.
They were made aware of my contract change. My shift to an American company, and my heel turn to go with it?
They were, but they fear that we sent out the wrong message on the domestic front.
That's alright. I've got something else planned for this week. You're still translating, but at least this won't be a domestic thing. I figure instead, we can talk about something else probably even more offensive than something that looks like domestic violence. After all, I saw who I was pitted against this week.
Leon "Purple" Hayze, whom you know as the 40 year-old pothead, and AGIMAT, the Filipino Sensation.
He doesn't call himself that, does he? Because nothing sensational has EVER come out of the Philippines, like ever.
Save it for the promo. Besides, I actually got a guideline on how we're supposed to approach this, considering your last promo and how hostile you've been since your move to the WCF.
I wipe my ass with their guideline. I'll make this easy. I'll just write the stuff I want you to say down, you can awkwardly say what it is that I wrote down, and not even be in the shot as you say what it is I want you to say. Does that work?
Sure. Why not? When do you want to do this?
The next day comes, and we see Candice Yamamoto standing in front of a podium with a WCF backdrop. She is dressed in a conservative outfit complete with pearls, much like how some female politicians would dress before trying to sell people on their viewpoints. Meanwhile, Gemu is off-camera, in another room, as they run this production. However, he is being filmed "outlaw style" via a pinhole camera by another production crew member. While he is speaking in Japanese, he is being subtitled.
Candice starts her address to the WCF 'verse, stating...
Good evening. As the voice of Gemu, who has adamantly insisted that you, the WCF 'verse, is not worthy of hearing his voice in such a medium, is starting off this address to the masses with an apology. The apology being that he did not imply that he was abusive to me, Candice Yamamoto, in such a way to influence you, the fans, of being domestic barbarians. You all do that just fine on your own, without any of his assistance in such matters.
It's not like I threw a beer bottle at her, or anything. Now THAT would be a reason to get all uppity about "domestic violence". Stupid fucking asshole fans.
Candice continues, unaware of Gemu's comments...
Furthermore, with the exception of when I actually wrestle, you will not be allowed the grace and pleasure of me on any camera henceforth. None of you actually deserve to look at me, anyways, so that privilege has been taken away until I see fit that you deserve to look upon such greatness again.
As to the first time I graced your shitty promotion, WCF, I decimated what you put in front of me. A washed-up soldier that gives its armed forces a bad name, and the very self-involved fudge factory worker. As if you somehow expected so much from such fuck-ups. And now you insult me by pitting two more fuck-ups in front of me to destroy one more time? Very well, I will play this game, but you, and they, will not like how I play such games.
Candice flips the page, as Gemu giggles in anticipation to the brutal words he has designated for his opponents...
First, I will address Leon "Purple" Haze. The only reason I bothered to learn your name is not because I have any respect for you. Rather, it is because I have a tremendous amount of disdain for you. I learned your name because you are a menace waiting to happen to some poor unfortunate opponent of yours in the near future. And I'm not talking about your skill, but because I fear someday you are going to be wrestling in an altered state, and accidentally hurt someone.
Second, you're supposed to be 40 years old, yet act like someone half that age. You and your pot being the only thing you really care about. Sure, I like my beer, and I actually make money off of said love, but I do so responsibly. I don't drink prior to matches that I get into. Can you say the same thing? Probably not, considering the effects of marijuana are so potent that one can't even play with the "1 hour per beverage" rule that applies to alcohol the same with weed.
But being as old as you are, is this some ploy for you to garner a fan base despite your advanced age? What's next, you going to join a gang of hardened criminals so everyone knows you're all sorts of hardened? You suck, and you know it. You should do what every other washed-up fuck does in your position and go into training the next generation. Otherwise, I'll do you the favor of destroying your other knee, so you can't even bother to do that. Then, perhaps, you can smoke that weed with no real risk to anybody else. Yes, I think that's what I should do.
Yeah, fuck that guy. Potheads have no place in pro wrestling. He should go smoke his dope elsewhere, lest he suffers some sort of "accident".
Candice flips to the next page and clears her throat before stating on behalf of Gemu...
Next, to address my opponent from the Philippines. Do you remember the last time that the Philippines did battle with the Japanese? I bet you do, if you're even part Filipino, rather than just pretending to be one behind that mask of yours. Either way, I'm willing to take you down Memory Lane into the history that revolves around World War II.
As we, the Japanese, were repelling round-eye from the Pacific, your Filipino race of traitors assisted round-eye in trying to overthrow the Imperial Japanese Empire and their rights to an all Asian ruling class in Asia. And how did your traitorous race get repaid for your efforts to help round-eye? The Bataan Death March! While it was considered one of the biggest war crimes ever by the Japanese during the war, I thought there was more justice to be found by killing your traitorous race and the round-eye invaders you tried to help. Not like everyone died during the march. You're obviously here...
Regardless, I'll be making it my purpose to finish the work of my ancestors on you and your traitorous race during the course of this match. Hell, I may be coming up with a new maneuver to break out just for you! Maybe I'll call it the Bataan Death Stomp, and see how you hold up to it. We'll see soon enough. After all, nothing but the best to the traitors of Asia.
And let's not forget, Filipinos are mostly low-class and dirty-ass sex workers. This opponent of mine is probably the son of a whore who really doesn't know who his daddy is! But I left that out, because that's probably going way over the line...
Candice flips to the last page of her statements to make, saying...
Finally, to the WCF. You think these two stupid ass-clowns can stop me? Like you thought the last two ass-clowns you sent after me were effective at all? You think they can hurt me as I ascend to the top of this shit American wrestling federation? You are sadly mistaken. If anything, you've just made it easier for me to wreak havoc on this shit federation as I make it my personal bitch. Imperial Japan will rise again! And I will be at its helm when I assist it in overthrowing this shit company and its terrible so-called champions!
The game yet continues...
As Candice steps away from the podium, signaling the end of her directed tirade towards Gemu's opponents, the company, and the countries of the United States of America and the Philippines, Gemu simply says...
Damn right, this game continues. And I will be the winner of this game, you can bet your last Yen on that!
The scene ends, as Gemu pulls out a Yen coin and flips it into the air...
He was distraught at the idea of first going to, of all places, Texas. The land where everyone had a gun. Even the homeless had guns! It was almost like as soon as someone shat a baby out of their womb, they were given a pistol to literally cut their teeth on, that is how big gun culture is in Texas. A scary thought, indeed.
As he packed his last bag, he considered his TAKA Katana, which he had won in a major Super Junior tournament that kicked off the federation, and decided that it must come with him. Granted, his relationship with TAKA was acrimonious right now, but it was a functioning weapon that may find some use in a land where everyone had guns. If not for sentimental reasons, the sword will at least be kept for practical reasons.
Gemu shed a few tears, as his landlady came by to pick up the keys. She was a middle-aged lady who had recently been widowed and left in charge of her very elderly husband's holdings. She asked, in Japanese...
Why must you leave? You were such a quiet tenant for an American.
My contract was sold, and now I've got to move back to America. It's so depressing to think about.
And you just got your citizenship! So sad.
Yeah. Sad is the best way to describe what I'm feeling. I thought I was through with America. It obviously didn't want me, so I left. I was so happy here.
I guess America isn't through with you, though. I wish you the best of luck, though. Just don't get shot over there.
I'll do my best. I'm going to Texas first, so...
Oh... Land of Western movies. Lots of guns there. You might want to get a gun for yourself.
Thought did cross my mind. Though I don't want to descend to the level of those barbarians, I might have no choice. Oh, here...
Gemu pulls out a pair of Easton hockey skates, and hands them to his landlord, saying...
Give these to your son. I know he liked them, but I cannot bring them with me. I hope they fit, and he gives them some use. I'm going to miss being able to walk right outside and go ice skating. That was always a good time.
The hockey league won't be the same without you. Take care of yourself. We will miss you.
Gemu nods his head, but in an uncharacteristic move, she hugs him as she bids him farewell, before parting from him and going about her business as the landlady. With any luck, he may return back to Sapporo and to this rental in no time.
The flight over from Japan was uneventful. The cab ride to the hotel was another story.
Catching a cab solo, since Candice decided to fly out earlier, he managed to find a cabbie who not only insisted on playing country music, but also wanted to talk about country music. The older cabbie says...
Man, I cannot wait for Blake Shelton to start touring again!
Whoever that is...
You been livin' under a rock, son?
I'm not into country music, and I'm not your son.
Excuse me for livin'. What do you do for a livin'?
Professional wrestler.
Ain'tchu a lil' small for pro wrasslin', son?
No, and I'll prove it to you if you call me "son" one more time. I know who my father is, and you are not it.
Well, I ain't ever seen ya ever wrassle. Then again, most of that shit's fake. I gave up on it in the early 90's, when it was all about tits and cussin'. Is it still about tits and cussin'?
Sometimes, but we mostly just beat the shit out of each other, after we say witty and sometimes funny shit about each other. Though sometimes someone gets real butt-hurt about what gets said.
Sticks and stones, I guess. So still a soap opera? What's your thing?
I wear a mask and act like an asshole. And I normally speak another language other than English while doing it.
But... You sound so American. Not from 'round here, but definitely American. Like New England or somewhere like it.
You have good ears. I was shat out in that God-forsaken part of the world, and lived there for too fucking long. But I'm out now, and doing my thing.
Good for you. Well, here we are. Good luck to ya. And bein' that this is Austin, ya might wanna get used to country music.
Guess I won't be going out all that much. Not that I planned on it. Here's for the ride...
Gemu reaches into his wallet, to find nothing but Yen bills inside of his wallet. Gemu then says...
Uh, I got a problem. Can we hit an ATM somewhere? I only have Japanese money.
What'chu doin' with all that Jappo money?
Living in Japan with it. Can you take me to an ATM or not?
I reckon, though I wouldn't mind me a Jappo dollar bill. I like collectin' money from other places.
I can give you 50,000 Yen. That's roughly how much this trip cost me, anyways.
I'll take it! Ya got coins, as well?
Oh, I got coins for days. I can probably pay you 50,000 Yen in coins alone. Here...
Gemu hands him some bills and several coins worth of Yen. The cabbie opens the trunk and Gemu gets out of the cab and retrieves his things before a bellhop can grab his stuff. Gemu gets his stuff out of the car, closes the trunk, and slaps the hatch before the cabbie pulls away from the hotel curb. The bellhop grabs some of Gemu's things and takes it to the check-in counter. Gemu has no issues getting his room.
With the bellhop in tow, Gemu gets himself into the room and relieves the bellhop of his belongings. As the bellhop rubs his fingers together, Gemu gives him a 1,000 Yen bill for his troubles. Gemu closes the door on the dumbfounded bellhop as he realizes that he has not been handed American money. Gemu was in mid bellyflop onto his bed, before he hears a knock on the door. Gemu gets to his feet and answers it, only to find the same bellhop standing there. Somewhere between his late teens and early 20's, he whines at Gemu...
Sir, this is Japanese money.
Glad you noticed...
But we're in America, and I'd prefer it if you gave me a tip in American money.
Okay, here's a tip. Don't just help yourself to other people's luggage without permission. And feel grateful that I even gave you anything. Is that a good tip, or what?
That dumbfounded look makes its way back onto the face of the bellhop, as Gemu once again shuts the door in his face one more time.
Several hours and a nap later, Gemu meets his translator Candice Yamamoto downstairs at the hotel restaurant. It allegedly served a good steak, but Gemu would be the judge of that. The restaurant also served an 8 oz. serving of Kobe beef, albeit at a whopping $500 price. Gemu passed on what would've been a pleasurable dining experience, and instead ordered a porterhouse with (surprisingly enough) a Sapporo Draft (better known as Sapporo Black in Japan), while Candice ordered, of all things, the chicken, with a white wine.
They powered through the meal with some zeal, barely a word spoken to each other, save for passing rolls, butter, and condiments. Once the meal was completed, they ordered after dinner drinks, which included another Sapporo Draft and another white wine for the two of them. Once their beverages came, on came the business of professional wrestling. Candice started off by saying...
You really came off as very unlikable here in the United States. The ratings for your match were low, considering the placement of the match, but you were a highlight. But not in a good way.
I'm not surprised. Americans hate anything that isn't American. Hell, the only thing they like that's Japanese is Toyota and Honda. Otherwise, they hate it.
Their hatred stemmed from your promo, especially when you threw the Sapporo cans at me.
Yeah, I ad-libbed a bit on that. Sorry. But it proved effective?
Oh yeah, but it might not be the right heat we're looking for. Sapporo Brewery also had something to say on it, as well.
They were made aware of my contract change. My shift to an American company, and my heel turn to go with it?
They were, but they fear that we sent out the wrong message on the domestic front.
That's alright. I've got something else planned for this week. You're still translating, but at least this won't be a domestic thing. I figure instead, we can talk about something else probably even more offensive than something that looks like domestic violence. After all, I saw who I was pitted against this week.
Leon "Purple" Hayze, whom you know as the 40 year-old pothead, and AGIMAT, the Filipino Sensation.
He doesn't call himself that, does he? Because nothing sensational has EVER come out of the Philippines, like ever.
Save it for the promo. Besides, I actually got a guideline on how we're supposed to approach this, considering your last promo and how hostile you've been since your move to the WCF.
I wipe my ass with their guideline. I'll make this easy. I'll just write the stuff I want you to say down, you can awkwardly say what it is that I wrote down, and not even be in the shot as you say what it is I want you to say. Does that work?
Sure. Why not? When do you want to do this?
The next day comes, and we see Candice Yamamoto standing in front of a podium with a WCF backdrop. She is dressed in a conservative outfit complete with pearls, much like how some female politicians would dress before trying to sell people on their viewpoints. Meanwhile, Gemu is off-camera, in another room, as they run this production. However, he is being filmed "outlaw style" via a pinhole camera by another production crew member. While he is speaking in Japanese, he is being subtitled.
Candice starts her address to the WCF 'verse, stating...
Good evening. As the voice of Gemu, who has adamantly insisted that you, the WCF 'verse, is not worthy of hearing his voice in such a medium, is starting off this address to the masses with an apology. The apology being that he did not imply that he was abusive to me, Candice Yamamoto, in such a way to influence you, the fans, of being domestic barbarians. You all do that just fine on your own, without any of his assistance in such matters.
It's not like I threw a beer bottle at her, or anything. Now THAT would be a reason to get all uppity about "domestic violence". Stupid fucking asshole fans.
Candice continues, unaware of Gemu's comments...
Furthermore, with the exception of when I actually wrestle, you will not be allowed the grace and pleasure of me on any camera henceforth. None of you actually deserve to look at me, anyways, so that privilege has been taken away until I see fit that you deserve to look upon such greatness again.
As to the first time I graced your shitty promotion, WCF, I decimated what you put in front of me. A washed-up soldier that gives its armed forces a bad name, and the very self-involved fudge factory worker. As if you somehow expected so much from such fuck-ups. And now you insult me by pitting two more fuck-ups in front of me to destroy one more time? Very well, I will play this game, but you, and they, will not like how I play such games.
Candice flips the page, as Gemu giggles in anticipation to the brutal words he has designated for his opponents...
First, I will address Leon "Purple" Haze. The only reason I bothered to learn your name is not because I have any respect for you. Rather, it is because I have a tremendous amount of disdain for you. I learned your name because you are a menace waiting to happen to some poor unfortunate opponent of yours in the near future. And I'm not talking about your skill, but because I fear someday you are going to be wrestling in an altered state, and accidentally hurt someone.
Second, you're supposed to be 40 years old, yet act like someone half that age. You and your pot being the only thing you really care about. Sure, I like my beer, and I actually make money off of said love, but I do so responsibly. I don't drink prior to matches that I get into. Can you say the same thing? Probably not, considering the effects of marijuana are so potent that one can't even play with the "1 hour per beverage" rule that applies to alcohol the same with weed.
But being as old as you are, is this some ploy for you to garner a fan base despite your advanced age? What's next, you going to join a gang of hardened criminals so everyone knows you're all sorts of hardened? You suck, and you know it. You should do what every other washed-up fuck does in your position and go into training the next generation. Otherwise, I'll do you the favor of destroying your other knee, so you can't even bother to do that. Then, perhaps, you can smoke that weed with no real risk to anybody else. Yes, I think that's what I should do.
Yeah, fuck that guy. Potheads have no place in pro wrestling. He should go smoke his dope elsewhere, lest he suffers some sort of "accident".
Candice flips to the next page and clears her throat before stating on behalf of Gemu...
Next, to address my opponent from the Philippines. Do you remember the last time that the Philippines did battle with the Japanese? I bet you do, if you're even part Filipino, rather than just pretending to be one behind that mask of yours. Either way, I'm willing to take you down Memory Lane into the history that revolves around World War II.
As we, the Japanese, were repelling round-eye from the Pacific, your Filipino race of traitors assisted round-eye in trying to overthrow the Imperial Japanese Empire and their rights to an all Asian ruling class in Asia. And how did your traitorous race get repaid for your efforts to help round-eye? The Bataan Death March! While it was considered one of the biggest war crimes ever by the Japanese during the war, I thought there was more justice to be found by killing your traitorous race and the round-eye invaders you tried to help. Not like everyone died during the march. You're obviously here...
Regardless, I'll be making it my purpose to finish the work of my ancestors on you and your traitorous race during the course of this match. Hell, I may be coming up with a new maneuver to break out just for you! Maybe I'll call it the Bataan Death Stomp, and see how you hold up to it. We'll see soon enough. After all, nothing but the best to the traitors of Asia.
And let's not forget, Filipinos are mostly low-class and dirty-ass sex workers. This opponent of mine is probably the son of a whore who really doesn't know who his daddy is! But I left that out, because that's probably going way over the line...
Candice flips to the last page of her statements to make, saying...
Finally, to the WCF. You think these two stupid ass-clowns can stop me? Like you thought the last two ass-clowns you sent after me were effective at all? You think they can hurt me as I ascend to the top of this shit American wrestling federation? You are sadly mistaken. If anything, you've just made it easier for me to wreak havoc on this shit federation as I make it my personal bitch. Imperial Japan will rise again! And I will be at its helm when I assist it in overthrowing this shit company and its terrible so-called champions!
The game yet continues...
As Candice steps away from the podium, signaling the end of her directed tirade towards Gemu's opponents, the company, and the countries of the United States of America and the Philippines, Gemu simply says...
Damn right, this game continues. And I will be the winner of this game, you can bet your last Yen on that!
The scene ends, as Gemu pulls out a Yen coin and flips it into the air...
