Dave hangs up his hat and apron, both of which reek of the fast food restaurant that he just clocked out of. His hair is matted, glasses are crooked, and face smacked around by fatigue. He's ready to hit the sack. It's around ten o' clock as he hobbles around his messy apartment. A big rat races past his feet as he looks like a giant walking across the floor.

As if being put through consecutive nine hour shifts at the Chicken X-Press wasn't enough, he had a match to prepare for in the coming days. He spent all week dodging the pieces of chicken that the displeased customers threw at his face. Now he had to face an even larger, more vocal crowd of people; the XWF fans. Those little shit heads who scream things at him like, "you can't wrestle!" No shit he can't wrestle, he's only been doing this for two weeks, you ungrateful little turds. Of course, there are those fans in the crowd who support The Dimallisher, and wear their colors with pride. Those are the ones who Dave will keep in his heart.

Going to work in the XWF and dealing with the crowds was so similar to working at Jimmy's Chicken X-Press. Some days you'll get rude customers who you want to strangle with your dick, other days you get little kids who high five you and say that they look up to you. Dave "The Dimalisher" would have to face the crowds again.

Back to our scene, Dave is strolling through his living room and making a beeline to his sage colored sofa bed. He kicks off his shoes, swings his legs over the mattress, and buries his head into the pillow. Dave is literally seconds from passing out when all of a sudden...


Loud as fuck, I should add. This late night visitor obviously pounded the hell out of the door with the bottom of their fist like a goddamn hammer. Dave is pissed as hell, he was really looking forward to relaxing for a couple of hours before having to roll out to Melbourne. Dave tried to ignore it, but of course the knocking continued. He figured he might as well answer the door since his front porch didn't come with a remote activated trap door.

The Dimallisher: "What do you want?"

Of course the face at the door had to be Dave's coworker and valet, Sandy.


Sandy: "Bitch, what took you so long to answer the fuckin' door?"

The Dimallisher: "I was tuh-tuh-trying to sleep!"

Sandy: "I'm your girlfriend, you can't just be leavin' me out here in the freezin' cold. Let me in!"

Sandy pushes through the cracked door, and invites herself into Dave's apartment. Dave just steps aside and let's her pass through like always.

Sandy walks up to Dave's dining table, kicks out a chair, and sits down. She lights up a cigarette and makes herself at home.

Sandy: "I've got some news, baby."

The Dimallisher: "You're leaving town?"

Sandy: "No... I'm pregnant!"

The Dimallisher: "What the fuh-fuh-FUCK!"

Sandy: "Crazy, ain't it? Now you'll have two valets accompanying you to ringside!"

The Dimallisher: "But I don't want two valets..."

Sandy: "Well you better get used to it because you're the father!"

The Dimallisher: "Am not!"

Sandy: "Is to!"

The Dimallisher: "I wore protection the one time when we had sex, it can't be mine!"

Sandy: "That shit don't always work, Dave. Hell, the condom mighta' been expired. Who knows how long you been holdin' onto it under that bed of yours."

The Dimallisher: "I can't believe this... I'm nuh-nuh-not ready to be a father... We've only been going out for a week!"

Sandy: "I don't know what to tell ya, Dave. Good thing you got that job at XWF, you're gonna need the extra income."


Now it was Dave's phone making noise. Dave looked down at the caller ID.


It was his boss and wrestling manager Jimmy.

The Dimallisher: "Now is not a good time, Jimmy. I just found out that Sandy is pregnant."

Jimmy: "I know! I've made a huge fucking mistake, Dave. Me and Sandy were drunk a couple of months ago at the restaurant, and one thing lead to another, and-"

Before Jimmy can finish his story, Dave interrupts out of frustration.

The Dimallisher: "I don't care about your guys' puh-puh-parties, Jimmy! This is serious. She's having my baby and now I'm gonna be a father."

Jimmy: "You... oh?"

The Dimallisher: "Just be at the airport, Jimmy. I gotta deal with this."

Jimmy: "Sure! Good luck, Dave. You got my full support, buddy!"

You could hear Jimmy breathing a sigh of relief on the other end.

Dave ended the call.

Dave buried his face into his hands while Sandy took a final drag from her cigarette.

More stress, more pressure...

He would have to find some way to pull himself together. He was scheduled to be a father in nine months, and scheduled to compete with two legends in two days. Is he prepared to face two of the biggest stars in professional wrestling? Is he prepared to have a fucking child?!

Dave turned on his stereo which automatically jumped to his favorite Nickelback song.

♫ Sommme day! Sommme how! ♫

I hate people who look different

and if u dont like it then u can leave