
Private: Shawn Warstein
Hmmm? Where do I begin? So many different avenues I could possibly take with everything going on here in the world of PRIME. I could just focus on my own things going on and that’s what I’ll do. Yet sometimes it feels like a “choose your own adventure” book. At the bottom of the page you’ve got some options at your disposal.
Do you want to go down the hallway towards the danger?
Or do you want to run away like a little bitch?
Or you could just stand there, mouth agape, drooling like a roided out Neanderthal because you are incapable of perceiving danger and your two brain cells are trying to figure out how to fuck one another.
Oh hello there Great Scott. I didn’t see you there standing in the hallway. I guess I could’ve assumed with the stench of piss filling the area and an oddly suspicious puddle hanging out around your feet.
It’s called a tell.
What’s that you dumbly ask? Everyone has one or several depending on the situation. Like you for example. While you stand there super buff and ready to suplex everything and anyone in your way…
There’s a shred of doubt isn’t there? You’re so full of yourself that you think everything is going to be easy. That you’ll come in and dominate. That’s a trap that everyone eventually falls into and some never manage to get themselves out of that deep hole dug for themselves.
Don’t worry Scott… Yeah I’m not calling you Great… I was once like you. Well not exactly. While we both once enjoyed needles getting jammed into our bodies, I eventually weaned off of the stuff and got better. You on the other hand will probably keep ballooning until the only doors you can fit through are doubles and believe me when I tell you, them shits are expensive to retrofit into a house.
However that wasn’t the point I was trying to make. I was telling you that when I walked into PRIME, and the same thought you currently have rattling around the cavernous void between your ears. I thought that I was going to galavant in and mop the floor with everyone. That I was untouchable.
Boy how I was wrong.
As I stand here with a pitiful record. Pitiful matches. Pitiful effort. Something needed to change, something to finally fall into place. What I needed more than anything was focus and drive. What I needed was something big to happen.
Then It Did.
The agony filled my body, but not just that, my soul. Something I wanted for so long, only to be dashed in the matter of three seconds. I was already planning my next move or better yet my next series of moves when it all came crumbling down.
The news didn’t fully penetrate my brain for a few hours. I was trying to comprehend what was said and done. I lost, fine, I can accept that but this? No, this throws everything off schedule.
“So Fight closed the doors, eh mate?” Donovan broke my concentration trying to fill the emptiness in the Navigator as we drove to JFK Airport. Kasey and I sat in the backseat, her head leaning on my shoulder as I continued to stare out the window.
“Yeah. Apparently.” With a deep sigh I stared out the window. An opportunity lost isn’t always lost. Sometimes it’s exactly what you need, even if you’re blind to it at the moment. “It shocked all of us. Now everyone is going their separate directions. What was once a beacon of the industry, has fallen by the wayside.”
Donovan smiles and clears his throat. “Well unlike the majority of them at least you’ve got a back up plan mate.” He mindlessly drums his fingers on the steering wheel.
“I guess so.” My eyes never leave the window. I’m not looking at much. The streets of New York are always packed; it’s not like we are moving very fast. Typical stop and go, with more stop than go. I’ve been following the same homeless man with a mullet walking down the street. Sad that he’s keeping pace with traffic. “If there’s one thing I always have it’s a plan B.”
“Mate, she’s sitting right there.” Donovan tries and fails at subtly nodding towards Kasey. She simply lets out an exasperated sigh.
“I’m certain that’s not what he was talking about D…” She pauses for a moment and then looks up at me from my shoulder. “You weren’t talking about that were you?”
“Huh? What?” My gaze finally leaves the window and towards Donovan and then to Kasey. I vaguely recall what they said. “Uh- No sweetheart, we both know I crush them up in your OJ in the morning.”
WHAP!
“Ow. Come on, you know that I’m only kidding.” With the quickness of a puma I was smacked upside the head. Kasey sat up from my shoulder and simply rolled her eyes.
“Not funny.” A simple but poignant statement.
“Yeah, nah, yeah mate. Not funny.” Donovan peeked at us from the rear view mirror with a half smile on his face.
“You laughed you fuck!“ I promptly kicked the back of his chair, causing him to jerk the wheel. Thankfully we weren’t moving. “However, you’re right. It wasn’t funny and it was uncalled for.”
A smirk cast over Kasey’s face. “Apology accepted.”
“I don’t recall apologizing.” I shifted my weight closer to the door. “That’s not the point Donovan, she’s got a point. While the rest of that roster are struggling to find their place, I’ve already got PRIME. I always had the plan set. It was always about diversification. It was always about putting my name and face everywhere.” I take a deep breath and exhale through my nose. “That’s the main difference between myself and the majority of the quote unquote Stars in this business. All of them will talk a big game. All of them will claim to be the best. Always under certain conditions. They won’t leave home. It has to be their rules. Their way. Not me. I’ll go anywhere and fight anyone.”
“Feck Yeah Mate!” A rousing approval from Donovan. “You’ll go anywhere and kick the shit out of anyone.”
“So long as I’m focused there isn’t a man or woman on this planet that can touch me. Gods. GOATS. And everything in between. I’m the one that breathes rarefied air.” Kasey looks over to me and places a hand on the top of my knee. “See the main thing is simply this. It’s always been about me bringing people up. Lifting them above myself. I’m done. No longer will I cow tow to lesser men. Starting this week with the aptly named Great Scott. He’s going to get a first hand viewing of what a focused Shawn Warstein looks like. Sure the guy looks like he’s straight from the mid eighties. Roided out beyond all comprehension. With a dick so small that even with the shrinkage he still pisses on his balls. It’s why he puts his fugly face on his singlet. The people can only focus on one train wreck at a time.”
“If you’re going to do this right now I’m going to take a nap.” Clearly exasperated, Kasey curls up on the other side of the car. I shrug and lean forward towards Donovan. Both hands grip the top of the driver’s seat as I lean in the middle.
“Seriously D, I’m ready for him. I know that he’s not much in the brains department but he is built like a brick shithouse. I know that he can do a lot of damage in the ring but what HE needs to account for is that I can take a lot of damage. I’ve seen men like him a million times. One track mindset.”
“So what are you going to do?” Donovan peeks over his shoulder.
I shrug and smile. “Imma Ali his ass.”
“Sorry mate…. You’re gonna fuckin do what now?” Donovan raises an eyebrow.
“Let him swing himself stupid… well stupider. Pretty sure this guy’s gas tank is shallower than a puddle on the street. I figure I’ll let him get his shots in early and often, blocking up when I can and when it’s time.”
“Put it into gear.” I furrow my brow as Donovan finishes my statement.
“Exactly. Then before he knows it he will be staring up at the lights. Hoping and praying that it’s finally over. Or he swings so much that his heart explodes and he gets to see his Grand Pappy again. Might be early for him but I’m sure he’d still be more disappointed now than when he saw him for the first time. Or how disappointed his own daddy was when he popped out. He took one look at that fucking mongrel and said to himself… damn… could’ve been a blow job or in the bottom of a sock.”
“Been there mate.”
“Donovan. You poor poor man.” I pat him on the shoulders. “You got this thing wired with cameras, yeah?”
“Fecking right mate.” He whips his head around and points to a few little cameras.
“Post it to the site.” I smiled and sat back.
“That’s…. That’s….” He stumbled over his words for a moment.
“My life story. My rules Donovan. Post it to the site and get us to the airport.”
“Fine. My readers aren’t going to like a video.” Donovan pulls out his laptop and plugs it into a receiver in the center console.
“I’m sure your Mom will get over it.”
Fade to Black.