The sun is beating down on a Sunday afternoon. The bubblegum flavoured ice cream I've been enjoying is trickling down the cone. I eagerly lick the droplet off with my tongue to prevent losing any ice cream, and in doing so I bump into a passer by, too focused on retaining the structural integrity of my frozen treat to watch where I'm going. Horrified, I see the entire dessert embed itself into the attire of a sharply dressed Mexican fellow of at least twice my size. He sweeps out with his hand out of reflex, knocking the rest of the ice cream to the ground.
We lock eyes. We already know that there is no time for apologies or reparations. He has ruined my treat. I have ruined his snazzy apparel. It is time for fisticuffs. We do it the gentleman's way, of course. We each locate a piece of fabric and tie our good hands to the leg of the opposite side. Hopping around lamely, we swing for each other's torso, attempting only to knock the other off balance. Ridding one of their composure is as sure a victory as anything else.
But as one battle begins, so do a dozen others, on the mental plane. Soon we degenerate into a purely psychological clash, attempting to manipulate the other, jabbing again and again with harsh words and provocative insults. Finally we have both been freed of our bonds and are grappling with each other, rolling down the street exchanging blows, pummeling each other relentlessly. Passing cars veer out of the way, screeching on the tarmac. We don't stop.
After that, details are fuzzy. I wake up on a beach, hidden beneath piles of damp mattresses. I know I am on the run. A game of cat and mouse begins. Soon it goes international.
Name of the game is to give chase to the other, whilst avoiding both them and the police and numerous underground crime syndicates who's paths we've inadvertently crossed. I head to Tokyo, the only place where I have some contacts. Within months I've rallied the gangs into a cohesive criminal empire.
But my opponent is clever. By now he has lured a Nazi revival sect into doing his bidding via promises of paradise from his secluded cult. Fusing occult beliefs and forbidden Nazi science my foe has created a machine capable of wiping out ever living being in an entire nation, save for the one who's DNA the machine has processed. Using a piece of my hair from our initial encounter, he can wipe out everything I've built up, then come for me when I am defenseless. I go for broke, and infiltrate his headquarters, redirecting his machine and inserting his DNA into it along with my own. During the final conflict between my forces and his, the machine activates and leaves only us alive.
We fall back into old habits, chasing each other around the world. We devote our resources to cybernetic enhancements, extending our lifespan, ensuring we live forever. Throughout the coming centuries, we amass huge forces and mount them against each other.
Soon we control opposite ends of the world. All military power is aligned with one or the other. Nuclear warfare and biological weaponry are simultaneously employed. The world is deemed uninhabitable. Boarding the only spaceworthy craft, we take to the skies locked in constant grapple. The ship breaks apart upon entering outer space, and we are taken away with the debris. We are so advanced by now, we don't need sustenance or oxygen. We fight in the endless reaches of space until our mechanical limbs stop whirring and we lie, motionless, hands around each other's necks. In our eyes, only a mutual look of love and admiration for the other.
