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+--- Thread: The Darkness (/showthread.php?tid=35685)
The Darkness - Shawn Warstein - 12-16-2019
It was a glorious moment.
Just one singular moment.
Then he showed up. He said he was going to, but I had honestly thought he knew better. I didn’t want to say I told you so, but I had to. I was and have always been one step ahead. I, no we were prepared. In one singular moment, I had achieved more in one night than most have in a career. I should’ve been on top of the world, but I wasn’t.
I went so far as to hold a party celebrating Noah and I, and it didn’t help either. The stakes are at an all time high right now. I’ve got the XWF at my fingertips, and yet I still feel so distant from the expectations. I know what everyone is expecting. They all are waiting, holding their breath, waiting for me to cash in. If I were them, I wouldn’t hold my breath for too long. I just might let this case lapse and never do anything with it.
And that’s the problem with expectations, people begin to lean on you for everything. They look to you as if you’re a beacon. The wants and needs begins to grow exponentially. Most people just turn and run away. Some people stand pat and face everything head on. Most will acknowledge the pressure, face it and eventually wilt away.
Personally I’ve experienced every one of them. When I bought the XWF, I wilted away into the abyss. When I was getting sober, I fought that demon head on. When I found someone to lean on to help get through everything, I cut bait and ran.
Expectations are the worst for someone like me. The addictive nature of winning. The blinding allure of the lights. Everything is just so…
Intoxicating.
I can never get enough of proving people wrong time and time again. From the second I walk into the building, from the second I leave. Watching people realize that I am better than what they think is the best high I can get now. Yet over time, as with all addictions, you start to build up a tolerance. Sure when you first come back, that first win I can ride out for weeks. Then it becomes days, then eventually after the matches happen you start to feel…
Nothing.
Empty. Hollow. Alone. Even with people by your side, their voices become a distant echo in your head. And over time they all start to sound like the adults from Charlie Brown. I know where all of this eventually leads.
I’m going to break his heart.
I’m going to fail.
This has been proven time and time again. I see everything happening. When I said I was steps ahead, I wasn’t talking about the outcomes. I was talking about myself. Everything is flowing the same as it always has.
First I show up, much to the dismay of many people. Then my main detractors slowly start to fade away because my “work rate” has become outstanding. Then I throw myself into the job. Working multiple matches over the course of a few days, and eventually I win the big one. That’s when everything eventually falls. The high doesn’t last nearly as long. Then it happens…
I walk away. I always have some sort of excuse up my sleeve, most addicts do, but it’s always for the “better”. For the better of whom? I say it’s for my sobriety, but that’s not it. It is for me, just not in that manner. I leave because the last time I hit that peak, and fought through it, I almost ended it all. Everything. All the relationships, the friends, the enemies, everything. I was looked at like a leper. I was outcasted, and broken. I was…
Empty.
So here I sit, just thinking. I wish I didn’t know where all of this was going to lead, but now it’s time for me to change the status quo. I know where this all leads, and for once I’m not content with where that is going to lead.
I shuffle some papers around, and pull out a needle from the side table next to me. I quickly pull up a spoon and light the lighter underneath it. The fire dances in the air, it’s almost mesmerizing. Everyone can stare at a fire dancing for hours, but this time it’s serving a purpose. The liquid quickly begins to bubble up on the spoon. Quickly followed by the cotton ball, and eventually the tip of the needle.
*Tink Tink*
My finger flicks the tip of the needle, clearing the excess air from the chamber. I quickly grab the rubber tubing and tie up my arm. The veins quickly shoot to the surface and resemble a road map. I drag the tip of the needle over my arm, in a figure eight pattern. The goosebumps appear quickly and I start to get the chills.
I go to inject the needle in my arm. Just as the needle starts to penetrate my skin.
*Buzz Buzz*
The sound of my phone going off knocks me out of my trance. I pick up the phone and answer it.
“Oi Cunt… what’s up?”
“Nothing, you called me. What do you want?”
“You must be getting old, you texted me like an hour ago saying you needed to talk to me or some shit…”
Did I text him? I honestly don’t remember. What could I possibly have needed to tell him that was so urgent yet only required a text.
“Nope, don’t remember doing that.”
“Well you did cunt.”
“Are you and Vita coming over for dinner tonight?”
“I’ll be there, Vita said she’s got some things to take care of first.”
Seems appropriate. I mean I did thrash her pretty good at Lethal Lottery.m, it’s understandable if she hasn’t quite gotten over that yet. I’ll give her some time and I’m sure this bump in the road is just temporary.
“Ok. Hey man how are you feeling about Christmas?”
“Eh, so long as I’m with my family, I don’t really care.”
“You know we’re working that night right?”
“Yeah, but you’ll be there, so will Vita. I’m not going to go all the way back to ‘stralia for a day. Why are you nervous?”
“I wouldn’t say nervous… stressed is more like it.”
I wasn’t lying. I can’t help but feel nervous heading into a chamber match. The odds aren’t in my favor of walking out still champion, but Noah is facing the same situation so at least I’m not alone.
“Ah, you’ll be fine cunt. You basically drew Scully’s short bus for yours. I literally burst out laughing when the picks were revealed.”
“Come on Noah, we both know that they will all be gunning for me…”
“Yeah and how’d that work out at Lethal Lottery? And none of them are anywhere near the level of Shank, Ruby or Vita.”
He makes an interesting point, I’m not sure how valid it is, but I can actually feel the stress slowly fade away.
“True, but they all had nothing but winning driving them. These fuckheads are all looking for something to prove. And they are looking at me like a Saddam Hussein statue in a town square.”
“I don’t get old people references.”
“All I’m saying in this match, I’m the top of the food chain, and that’s fine and all, but what happens when the little cretins team up to take out the prize? Then what?”
There was a moment of awkward silence on the other side of the phone. I check mine to make sure we are still connected.
“Then what, what? I can’t believe that you of all people are actually stressing about Knuckles, Jimson, McBride, and Gilmour. Just throw TK a few stacks and he’ll be gone. I don’t even think Jimson has had an actual match with any actual meaning. I thought McBride was dead, and it pains me to actually say this, but Gilmour is the Cunt to actually look out for.”
“Right, and doesn’t that strike you as odd? I shouldn’t be worrying about Gilmour, it’s not in my DNA to worry about piss ants like him.”
“Then don’t. Don’t worry about him. I’m sure there will be something spooky and creepy about all of his digressions and his super dick and it will all be the end of him. You don’t need to worry about Peter.”
I’m not quite sure what Noah actually said, but it was comforting. I felt all the pressure release right off of me. It felt like I was Atlas, and finally let go of the world on my shoulders.
“You’re right Noah… I’ve got nothing to worry about.”
The Afterthought:
Well what more can I say about everything that has happened recently. I did exactly what I said I was going to do. I went into Lethal Lottery as one of the favorites, and I walked out YOUR Lethal Lottery Winner, still you X-Treme Champion, and also a Briefcase holder. I’m someone who usually only competes on Savage and Anarchy, but after some deliberations, and a large pay day. I am happy to announce that I will in fact be on Warfare for Christmas.
I’m the gift that keeps on giving. I will walk into Warfare and right into a Chamber match.
*Spooky Hands Here*
You’d think with it being the holidays and such, I’d be in a much better mood, but I’m not. There was so much talent available for this match, and these four are the ones I ended up with. I know that November was the Cunts month, but hot damn, it looks like December is going to be the same thing. I lucked out in my drawings, and Noah lucked out by Big D being a big baby. Allow allow all of us to bask in my greatness. If this match isn’t management attempting to stack the deck against me, I don’t know what it is.
Firstly, I get to fight on a Wednesday, and guess what I haven’t graced that show with my presence since April. Then they decide to throw my title on the line, and shadow book me without even knowing if I was going to be in the same fucking state. Yet of course all of this is built under the guise of “Random” drawings. That’s the rub isn’t it? They hide behind the wacky randomness and say “that’s just the way the cards fell.” It’s funny I don’t recall the Tag Team Tournament brings billed as a random drawing, but as a set tournament, and yet there are no brackets to be seen. At least now I know who I am fighting. Let’s just look at the competitors in this match…
Peter Gilmour, Jim Jimson, Michael McBride and Thunder Knuckles….
Damn, I must be one of the luckiest men alive. I mean for a random drawing it’s as if I personally placed each name in there one by one. Not a single one of them are anywhere near me in terms of…. Well everything. Let’s just go ahead and get this out of the way first and foremost…
I’m better than all of you…
Combined.
This is going to go the same way as Lethal Lottery. Everyone will have their eyes solely focused on me, and it’ll be your downfall. Just look at what happened to people infinitely better than all of you. Each and everyone of them went home empty handed. They all called out the big bad wolf, but none of them were packing bricks.
So yes, this may very well be a fairy tale run I’m on now, but I highly doubt that any one of you will be the one to stop it.
Starting with you Knuckles. You see I’m not like Big D, or anyone else you’ve ever stood across from. I won’t sit here and BUY your way out of this match. As a matter of fact, I want you to show up and give it your all. I need to see if all the hype surrounding you is legit. I really think that people that pay you off is their way of showing their fear. You have nothing that I fear. You pose no immediate threat to me or my title, while you did do a good job holding down the door at my party, that’s all you’ll ever do… Hold doors open for others to take your shots. All for the love of a dollar? You realize that you’ll make more money in the long run, if all you do is stand and fight. You earned your shots, but sold them quicker than you blink. I don’t understand. For a business built on winning titles, you have decided that X-Bux are more important? Please tell me that know they aren’t accepted everywhere like a MasterCard? The only place they are viable is on our own site, and most of that goes to Vinny. How does that make you feel? When you’re buying something, your padding the guys pocket who still owes you money. Not only did I pay off my debt, I tipped well. TK, I will not buy your way out of this match, so please bring everything you’ve got.
Time to move onto the dolphin fucker. I honestly have no clue what the fuck you’re doing here. Seriously. You have got to be the biggest waste of space I’ve ever seen, and anytime someone watches one of your promos they are immediately placed on a short bus. I’m pretty sure they start licking some windows, and bashing their heads against walls. This is all conjecture of course, seeing as how I have never once watched one of your promos, but seeing the people that do, I guess you’re hitting your target demographic. Kudos on that, but target demos and the handicapped aren’t going to help you one bit. I have always enjoyed watching people realize that they are just a tad bit out of their league when they step into the ring with me. It really helps me to center myself, knowing that pretty much everyone across from me is shaking and quivering at the thought that I just might set the crosshairs on them.
What in the blue hell is a Michael McBride. Hold on I’ve got to go look this fuck head up…
(Que Internet Search Montage.)
Ok, after a brief look at what Mr. McBride has done, I needn’t worry about him. Sure he won a few titles, but that was from long ago. “But Fuzz most of your titles were from long ago as well” I hear you muttering under your breath. I get it, I really do, but to completely ignore the fact that I am currently a CHAMPION, and BRIEFCASE holder is asinine. I haven’t even been back a year, and what have I done? I have completely changed the way the XWF works. Now everyone copies my style and while I take it as a compliment, NO ONE does it better than I do. It’s been almost three months since I won the X-Treme title, and I certainly don’t plan on losing it anytime soon, most especially to this rogues gallery.
That’s all I have to say about that….
I can’t help but feel like I’m missing someone….
Oh well, they probably aren’t that important anyway…
Wait, Not Important!? Missing!?
Fuck Peter Gilmour and his super sick.
How could I have forgotten about him. I’m sorry Peter. I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but it is just the way things go. So let’s just get to the point I know you are going to make a million times…
“You Beat Chris Page.”
Wow, you actually beat someone!? Wow. It’s not like I haven’t beaten Page before as well. So I mean it’s not that big of a deal. How about the fact that you are still known by Mike Best as the biggest fucking loser in the industry… Don’t believe me? Just ask him yourself. He literally named dropped you, out of all the people he’s ever come across in this business. He chose you as the one example of a piece of shit that he would never work with again. How does that happen? I mean we can all laugh and joke about how you won the Universal Title, trust me it was a joke, or how you’ve garnered so many accolades in this company, yet all you’ll ever be known as is the guy who screams about his Superdick, and about how many bitches he’s fucking.
It all sounds a bit like overcompensation if you ask me. Most grown ass adults don’t walk around talking about how big their dick is. They don’t tell everyone to suck their dick at every possible moment. Real high functioning adults don’t bring up their dick in everyday conversation with their friends and fans. Yet there you are every week, spouting suck this, super that. When you eventually grow the fuck up, maybe people will start to take you seriously.
Until then, sit down, shut up.
And don’t even think for one second you stand a chance in the ring with me. I am Your X-Treme Champion, Your Lethal Lottery V Winner. I am the Sickest Cunt of a Legend in the XWF. I’m going to make each and everyone of you realize that I’m not trapped in there with you, you’re trapped in there with me….
Damn….
I can’t end on such a cliche…
Well….
Suck My Super Bombastic Totally Bigger and Better Than Peters Dick…
Yup that should do it.