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Shawn Warstein · (09-14-2019)

Immediately after leaving Noah’s Party:

I just had to get out there as fast as humanly possible. Seriously who throws their own “surprise” party? This kid must be really fucked in the head, but I just can’t let him down. He’s put so much faith in me, even after it was proven that he was “wrong”. I’ve let so many people down over the years, but with him, there’s just something about him that makes me want to be…

Better.

As I rushed out from the party, I had no fucking clue what I was going to do. I wasn’t about to just leave, after all it was a party. I enjoy parties. I don’t like people, but parties I like. I pulled out my phone and opened up the Uber app and began scrolling for a store open. This fucking guy basically lives in 1980’s Indiana, nothings open past 7, and don’t think about buying alcohol on a Sunday. The only place open was a convenience store a mile or so away. I set my destination and waited.

Car after car passed, and eventually a blue Honda Civic pulled up. I jumped in and sat in the back. Not saying a word for the short trip. It wasn’t long before we arrived at what could only be described as a white trash bodega. The guy pulls up out front and let’s me out. I watch as his tail lights fade off into nothing. Bless this very silent man.

5 Stars.

I open the door to the store and the familiar jingle of bells fills the near empty store. Some lights in the back were flickering. The yellow hue of the smoke damaged plastic coverings around all of the lights made the store seem darker than it should. The man behind the counter, who could only be described as a mix of Sloth from the Goonies and random bearded man you’d find at a MAGA rally. He either didn’t notice I walked in, or didn’t care, his gaze never left his phone.

Slowly I made my way up and down the aisles, my shoes sticking slightly to the ground making my walk around that much more tedious. I grab a porno mag, and quickly thumb through it.

“Maybe…”

I thought better and placed the clearly old Hustler back on the rack. I don’t want to mess anything up with him and VV. Seriously I don’t know what’s going on with the two of them, but anyone that can take his attention away from me, even for a minute, is good in my book. Just so long as he doesn’t ask me to tag along for some food with her. I’m not against it, it just reeks of ‘Oi, meet me dad’, and I’m not about to go there.

Soon I find the toy section, well you could call it that if there was anything relevant there. All the toys are Dollar Store knockoffs. If I know anything about Noah… He’ll break these before the package is open.

Finally I get to the liquor section. There isn’t a large selection, and to be honest the bottles were covered with a film of dust so thick running your finger over it couldn’t get it all off. I picked up a small bottle of rum.

“What does this kid drink? Come on Fuzz… you know this…”

I quickly reached over and grabbed a small bottle of vodka. Looking at both of them like a confused ape I bring them over to the counter where Sloth-Man was. I stood there for what seemed like an hour, but was maybe a minute before he let out a deep sigh and stood up. JESUS CHRIST! This guy was about nine feet tall, built like a brick shit house.

“Wadda want?”

Clearly English isn’t taught in this stellar school district. I place both bottles on the counter. The guy just stares at them for a moment.

“Hypothetically speaking. If you knew this guy, who was young enough to be your son. And let’s say he believes that you’re his father, even though Maury proved him wrong. And now he still thinks you could be his father, and secretly threw himself a party, and dragged you along. Yet you can’t show up to a party empty handed. All the while his Aussie ass is partying it up and you’re out here stressing… which one of these two would you get him?”

“Hypo-whata-cally?”

Great, I’m talking to a soup ladle. Frustratingly I try to get the mouth breather to engage.

“Just which bottle would you like if you were a 20-something man for your birthday?”

“Dunno.”

Nope he’s not a ladle at all, he’s a fucking piece of toast. And not a middle one, Nope the end that no one likes and just gets thrown away.

“Which one do you like?”

“Don’t drink.”

I'm finally getting somewhere with this guy. I shrug and slide the two bottle to the side. I take a moment to compose myself.

“What did your parents get you for your birthday this year?”

A simple request. Nothing out of the ordinary. I could literally see the mouse in his brain get up and start on the wheel. I took a moment but eventually he turns around and grabs a carton of cigarettes. And tosses them down on the counter. I look at him with a bit of confusion. Well I guess when your mom does crack with you in utero, this will happen.

“Ok…. well how about just one pack? I’m pretty sure this guy doesn’t smoke but what the hell.”

He slowly opens the carton and rings up a single pack of cigarettes. He eventually mumbled the price. I happily paid it and got out of there before I lost any more brain cells talking to him. I jammed the pack in my pocket and once again requested an Uber back to the party. Birthday shopping, who knew it was so easy for millennials?

Shortly After Noah’s Party:

The party was what some would call a success. I enjoyed myself after Noah claimed to like the pack of smokes. I began meandering around the home. Empty beer cans thrown about, people passed out on the floor. I gingerly walk over them, and towards the back of the house.

I walked out on the porch and took a deep breath. The air was crisp, and the cold air filled my lungs. That was until I was greeted by Vita. She tapped me on the shoulder and began to literally drag me back inside the house. She had this look on her face but I couldn’t place it.

Not saying a word she pointed to a room at the end of the hallway. I shake my head and walk down there. As I got closer and closer to the room I could hear someone gurgling. I knock on the door.

“You okay in there pal?”

Nothing from the other side. I knock again, and now it sounds like someone is vomiting.

“Need any help?”

Then the voice from the side.

“Fuck Off Cunt… I’m fine!”

Dammit Noah. I open the door. Noah is hunched over the porcelain toilet bowl. His face is green, and thankfully it looks like he hasn’t vomited yet.

“You didn’t listen did you?”

Noah looks up at me and rolls his eyes before dry heaving again.

“Shut up cunt…”

I shake my head and place a hand on his shoulder.

“You know when I was growing up if you were caught smoking, your parents would make you smoke an entire pack to get you sick and never want to do it again. It was like a wired sadistic punishment.”

Noah continues to hover over the bowl. I glanced down and saw a few smokes left in the pack. I grab one out and light it up. I took a huge drag and blow the smoke out towards Noah, where he begins to fan the smoke away, failing obviously.

“I’m not mad Noah, just disappointed. It was a simple request and you just had to do whatever you want… take this lesson to heart… Sometimes I know what I’m talking about.”

Noah drops his head in defeat. I pat him on the shoulder.

“Listen Noah, you’ve got all the talent in the fucking world, don’t waste any of it trying to prove to me that I’m your father. Use it to get what is yours. Use it to be better than me.”

“I don’t want to disappoint you…”

“Trust me Noah, you’re not. We have our jobs to do. I’ve got a big opportunity on Saturday, yours will come soon enough, and sooner even We get our shots at the Tag Team Titles. Noah just get up out of here and go on the deck. Being locked up in here isn’t going to help. You need fresh air.”

“You’re right. Thanks Dad.”

I’m not even going to fight him on this one, it’s his birthday. I help him to his feet and usher him out towards the porch. I stand there and look around at the mess of a house.

“That’s one hell of a party.”

As the camera fades to black.

The Afterthought:

I AM SUPERMAN.

It’s grandiose of me to say that but compared to you three, it’s almost a fact. You three are basically General Zod, Darksied and Luthor. Not that any of you pose any real threat to me, but let’s be honest in a world filled with billion dollar superhero movies, it’s the names of those that pop up first. I wouldn’t take it as a compliment that I said you were like them, it’s a fucking metaphor for Christ sakes, get over yourselves. Back to me being Superman.

Even when I am thought dead, I rise up like a phoenix from its ashes. I come back and show everyone what I’m made of, and you guys are like everyone else here… trying to hold me back. Well let’s get down to business then shall we. I’ll start with the one that decided that it was in their best interests to keep their fucking mouth shut. Michelle. Well if ever there was a point to this, here it is. I KNEW you wouldn’t open your mouth throughout all of this. You’re probably the smartest one out of the others. Kudos to you for that. It’s. It every day I go throwing around compliments like that, alas through all of that I guess that would make you Lex Luthor in this example. Smart enough to know when you are beaten. I’m sure over time you’ll grow to resent me like everyone else here, and you know what? I look forward to that day, because when that happens you will find out that me calling myself Superman is nothing compared to living it in the ring.

Now on to the one that just had SoooOoOoO much to say about me, the Darksied of the trio. Kieran. This fucking brute just couldn’t wait to make a name himself against me. How’d that work out for you gimp Samuel? Yeah I beat the shit out of him, just like what you’re in for, sweet deal right. Out of everyone in this match, you just had to single me out right? I mean it makes sense. In that pitiful pea brain of yours I look like the only threat… newsflash moron, there are four of us in this match. You focusing on just one person is idiotic at worst, imbecilic at worst. I understand that I have the most “tape” to go on, and apparently I’ve slighted you in someway. For that, I’m not sorry. It’s time for you to put your big boy pants on and realize just saying things doesn’t make them true. Sure I’ve called myself Superman, it's not a lie when it’s the truth. Allow me to break down a few things for you, make your life a tad bit easier.

I heard you saying you’re going to give me the beating of a lifetime? Seriously!? That old cliche? Come on buddy I know you’ve got more than that in you. Bring it out. I want to see the rage coursing through your veins. I want to watch you TRY and give me a beating. I’ve fought greater men than you while high on heroin and not only survived… I’ve won. Tell me hoss, what in the fuck do you think you’re going to do any different that a Steve Jason hasn’t done? Or a Cooper? Or a James Raven? What do you think that makes you in the long list of concerns I have in this life? You’re somewhere between ‘Did I Leave the Stove on?’ and ‘I wonder where the band Hanson are nowadays?’. You don’t even register as a threat to me, and why is that? Say it with me everyone…

Because You’re Not.

Wow…. while talking about you just couldn’t leave Noah out of it huh? In what universe does what Noah says affect me? He say Cunt a lot. You call me a bitch a lot. Come on man there has to be something better than that from you. Do I need to come up with a thing to say to make you feel better? Ok wait give me a minute. Uhh, you look like how I imagine a walking contraceptive looks like, you fucking incel cuck. I mean seriously you’re so concerned with how I treated Samuel you would think you two share a glory hole or something. Why are you so overly concerned about how I treated poor Samuel? The guy chose to be here for this, and now you get all butt hurt over it? That sounds like some SJW, snowflake bullshit if you ask me. You sure do talk a big fucking game saying you’re going to break me with or without weapon? Please I’m going to enjoy watching you foam from the mouth, seize up, and piss down your fucking leg in front of the entire world. Maybe then you’ll join your buddy Sammy and you’ll both have handicap placards in your cars.

Don’t pick on Samuel, he’s handi-capable. He has autism. Listen KO, he chose to come here, get embarrassed and left like the good little cunt he was. I can’t wait to see what you do when I treat you the exact same way I treated him? Are you going to run like a bitch too? Or are you going to be man enough and stick around? The choice is yours.

And now finally onto Zod. Cam. As I already told you, I will not say your full name. A.) Because it’s stupid. B.) I wasn’t hooked on phonics. C.) I don’t respect you enough. You say that management put you in the ring with a Legend for a reason. They saw something in you that others cannot see yet. Well you’re wrong on so many levels. You can crack your jokes about how I should have hepatitis, it the fact remains the same, I’m the one that all of you are eyeing like a porterhouse. I’m the one all of you want to make your name off of here. You say you’ve followed my journey? Well then it shouldn’t come as a surprise that anything you can dish I can take.

Anything you want to do, has been done. None of you pose any real threat to me. Do I dismiss you and your chance in this match?

Not at all. You could easily take out one of the others and win without me factoring in, but that’s where all of your hubris will come into play. You want to win… but you want to beat me in the process. I don’t need to prove anything to you, but you’ve got to prove it to me. You can say you want my scalp on your wall, well get in line fuck boi, there’s a long list and currently your dumbass is at the back of the line right around where Chasm hangs out.

I’m the Legend here. Michelle you are not. KO you are not. Cam You are not. I’m the one with the target on my back, but unfortunately for ya’ll I’ve got eyes in the back of my head. All of your talk and threats means absolutely fuck all to me. You want to go to fucking war? Let’s do this.

Welcome To Fucking Metropolis.

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