Shawn Warstein is seen sitting on a couch, head firmly placed on the back cushion, as a low hum can be heard. As he rolls his head side to side he lets out a deep sigh.
Shawn: Is this what I really signed up for?
He continues the head rolling.
Shawn: All of these….
He lifts his head from the cushion, and shrugs his shoulders.
Shawn: What’s the word I’m looking for? Losers? No, that’s too obvious. Idiots? Nah, too juvenile. Insular jack holes? There were go.
Shawn runs his hand through his beard and leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees. He looks over and sees a bubble machine that is the cause of the low hum.
Shawn: I’m going to be completely honest, the only reason I’m here is Mike Best. Unlike most of the cowards that have called me out, him I ACTUALLY know. The rest of you, not so much. So when I watched along with everyone else on Twitch. The same prevailing thought kept creeping up… Who?… Who?… This is a joke right? Then after a few seconds of contemplation I realized that’s what you all think of me. So as tradition, allow me to feed you all the ammo you’re going to hear about me as I claim the Dicknnuci Cup.
Quickly from his pocket Shawn pulls out his phone and begins swiping.
Shawn: I’ve got the list here somewhere give me a second…
He continues to fumble for a moment, before finally reaching the intended app.
Shawn: Ok here it is. The list of what everyone is going to say against me because they have no real creativity. Let’s just start from the top. I myself was an insular wrestler only claiming one home. That was until recently where I’ve gone on a tear through multiple companies simply because I could. I mean let’s be honest when I saw I was facing Roger Dorn…Wait that’s not right. He was the third baseman for the Indians in the movie Major League. I meant Johnny Storm, dammit, that’s the flaming guy from the Fantastic Four.
A quick snap of his fingers.
Shawn: JOHNNY DORN! That’s it. I must’ve gotten him mixed up with other characters in fiction that are always coming up just a bit short, or cucked. Oh don’t think I don’t know that Twitter is going to be brought up… everyone loves to bring that up. So yes, I have a complicated relationship. Yes we air our dirty laundry out there for the world to see. Yes I talk mostly in gif form on there. Yes I’ve made Mike Best my bitch on there. No, I won’t give you a shout out Mike, and stay out of my DM’s. Some people look at that as a flaw, I see it as an interesting opportunity for you Doorknob. You don’t have to look far for ammo, however after doing just a second of research on you, I found a bland wrestler and didn’t keep my attention apart from one thing. I’ll get to that shortly. Last year I won more titles, awards and accolades, that even Smaug is jealous of my collection. The list goes on and on for me. Mostly because I put it out there for the world to see. I’m not afraid of anything anyone has to say. Least of all you Dornberry Farms.
Finally all the humming leads to the machine firing bubbles into the air. Shawn smiles a bit before continuing.
Shawn: So there it is. I get to face Johnny Dorn. I did however find one thing interesting. He’s a Northsider? Well that changes everything in my game plan. Most of all I need to protect my back door. As a proud Southsider I need to warn you Johnny Woo Woo, I come packed to the brim with firepower that your little hipster ass can’t contend with. So take all of your cans of Old Style or Schlitz, build yourself a nice little fort. Make sure it’s nice and big. So that when all of this is done and over with, you have a nice comfortable place for a good cry. Then when you’re finally feeling confident again, drag your sorry ass back to Cheap Pop, a broken, miserable and defeated boy. Sorry I didn’t mean to burst your bubble this early.
Shawn reaches a finger out and pops a single bubble from the machine, as the camera fades to black.