John vs. John

John Rambo is the solitary type. The type of person who has never had anything done for him and never had anything. The kind of person that takes everything into his own bloody hands.

Rambo has been betrayed by the people who know him best, the people who were meant to be his superiors many times. He is considered to be a menace by those very people. The people who they themselves turned him into the killing machine he is today.

Getting away from it all in the far reaches of the Amazon for ten lonely years and having Navy SEALS intrude into what he considered a relatively "safe" zone to save some missionaries abducted by rebels, something clicked, something bad. Rambo's internal monologue spoke to him.

"Screw this. I'm going to settle this. I'm going to find somebody who can put up a fight to end all fights. If there is a person that possesses such skill."

The neurons firing in Rambo's brain that possess him to kill multiplied greatly, urging him to travel upwards from his stay in the Amazon and through Colombia.

John Matrix on the other hand, is the type of person that anybody could love. A war hero, a good father to his daughter and bulging muscles. Such were his skills as an elite commando that his former boss General Kirby is forever trying to enlist him "one last time". The "last" time Kirby tried this was to dispose of Matrix's former squad member Bennett who was hell bent on removing Matrix from the planet, not to mention kidnapping his daughter to try and accomplish that goal.

Twenty years on though, General Kirby came back. Twenty years since Matrix last saw Kirby. Twenty years since the kidnapping of his daughter. Twenty years of living the quiet life. Matrix tired of the quiet life.

Kirby stepped out of the helicopter, "Matrix, I'm not going to bother introducing myself since you most likely know why I am here and I probably know what you are going to say but its worth a try".

"I know that you are here to try and recruit me for a mission and truth be told, I am tired of the lack of action, the answer is yes." Matrix smirked.

Kirby, not used to the words 'yes' coming out of Matrix's mouth was about to turn away and head back into the helicopter, "Okay Matrix, it was worth a tr-".

"YES??" Kirby barked.

"There is no time to waste Matrix, this mission is a matter of national security, grab your things and jump into the helicopter and lets go!" Kirby yelped.

During the flight Kirby explained to Matrix the nature of this mission. He recalled that for the past twenty years of Matrix's retirement, drug running from Colombia up through Mexico and into the U.S.A. has risen greatly in frequency. It was now Matrix's job to sever the head of the whole organization in the jungles of Colombia, figuratively and literally.

John Rambo, fueled by rage and possibly a bit of insanity, is making the trek through Colombia's jungle from his former home the Amazon. Foes come and go on the way. Flesh doesn't amount to much when faced with machine guns and grenades. Whole towns have fallen at the hands of Rambo. Generations of people, gone, and there is not an inkling of remorse in Rambo's eyes. Amongst the sound and stench of burning corpses, Rambo spots a clearing up ahead that contains:

One giant mansion.
A lot of armed security.
Many expensive exotic luxury cars.
The stench of corruption.

"Sounds like my cup of tea." Rambo said to himself.

"I'll take them in the morning..." Rambo said, "To make things fairer. FOR THEM!". Rambo laid down to rest on top of a bed he made out of sticks and leaves, the comfort of that bed being comparable to lying on top of a mattress made of Bic pens. Dreaming about killing, slaughter, maiming and pillaging as Rambo does, he awakes to the sound of his favourite. War.

I will post the rest of this tonight or tomorrow and your feedback on what I have so far would be appreciated.