Fear.

Ah, there we are. Solex letting me know how he really feels, as if I actually care. Your spouting off of buzzwords and tired rhetoric is just that, Steve…tiring. Calling me a nerd like I hang out with Conor Fuse playing Skyrim…that’s a video game, Solex, I know this world is passing you by but do try to keep up. So insistent that I’m “soft as fuck” and yet, here you are, admitting that you may well be afraid to retire. Oh, you’re afraid alright…I got that sense from the word “go.”

Afraid to watch the business around you change, evolve, move on from the glory days you keep speaking of…afraid to watch as all the buddies you ran with finally disappear into the void of obscurity, and realizing you’re next in line. That’s why you give off all this bravado about how tough you used to be, how tough you insist you still are. I heard that talk from my old man in his final days. We all die eventually, Solex.

By far my favorite thing about all this is hearing what you think I am, as if you know my life. I’m a private man by design, Solex. I am not the sort who goes around whining on social media about my feelings…but it sounds to me like you are. At least, you would if you could figure out how to wrap your head around the concept, if it didn’t scare you like the idea that cars can run on electricity.

Spouting off all this bullshit about who all has beaten me…but Bobbinette Carey didn’t beat me. She’s a tough one, that Bobbinette Carey…but I still beat her. Can’t say you had the same luck a few weeks ago, can you?

Just another name on the pile of reasons you seem to be talking out your ass about how good you really are, at least not in 2023. Now I understand why you say you don’t care about your legacy…because you’ve decided to become a bitter old man, cranky all the damn time and yelling at the clouds about how the business has gone soft…and that is how people are going to remember Steve Solex.

Nobody that wasn’t here before 2021 is going to remember the proud #1 Dad of HOW, they’re only going to remember a crotchety MERCDAD that leaned so far into every stereotype that it became a crutch.

But hey, at least you’ll have something to help you walk after I’m done beating the living hell out of you on Sunday. Maybe the quaaludes can help ease the pain then, too.

Give me a fuckin’ break, Solex. All that shit you talk about how soft I am, and you’re out here making excuses for your failures. I’ve already owned up to mine, because unlike you I have my eyes firmly on the future. I can move on with my life.

And I see a future where the once mighty Steve Solex is nothin’ but a heap of mass in the middle of that cage. Where the ref raises my hand, letting everyone in Miami and around the world know that I’m the man for once.

When you hobble off into the sunset, I will still be here. I will still be standing, because in case it’s not obvious by now…I’m persistent. Some would say I’m stubborn, but I did not get into this business for a man with one foot out the door to try and call me a quitter. No, not ever.

I know you’re not, either…and that’s gonna make this beating all the more satisfying. I wouldn’t want you to quit, to give up, to submit…I want you to suffer. Because all this talk about what kind of man you think I am is getting turned on its head, when I drop you on yours.

The crowd will go deathly silent when they’ve realized just what Steve Solex unleashed upon the world that night. When I put you out of your misery with GOD himself bearing witness, it’ll mark the birth of something far more sinister…and when that time comes, the medics will be rushing to get you to the hospital ASAP for some treatment.

Because what’s coming next will seek not to maim, injure, or even kill you…but to consume you. If you’ve been wanting to see how hungry I am to earn some respect, just you wait…because something inside is starving to be let out, and it’ll soon be time to feed.