…and I banged that message on the side of a trash can. Hope you got it loud and clear, Dan-O.
Real talk: that’s a cool story you told me, bro. Now how about you settle into your nice, broken-in La-Z-Boy, grab a hot toddy, and let Johnny Dorn entertain you for a hot minute or five.
I already know you like simple things in life, Dan. Every week’s the saaaaame thing. You trot out some paint-by-numbers bullshit of “I like violence. I like to fight. I’m a fuckin’ killer. I eat thunder and shit lightning” and pretty much everyone fuckin’ cowers in their boots because it’s comin’ from the mouth of Willie the Giant. Maybe the fuckin’ try-hards in this place like Darin Matthews and Black Mamba think their cutesy shit wins them brownie points, but I’ve been in enough scraps with bigger dudes than me to not only know it doesn’t work, but to know how to hold my own and make it out alive.
Were those bigger dudes Dan Ryan? No.
But they might as well have been.
Here’s what I want to know: What the fuck else do you do with your days, big man? TRAIN? Mean mug in the mirror? I know you ain’t spendin’ hours in the bathroom constipated since I’m nothing but a greasy shit to you, but if that’s the case either you ain’t eatin’ right, or you need some medicine for your troubles. A Shot of Malört won’t ease your stomach, but it’ll help knock you out. Maybe you post up in your den, spinning your Big Wheel of Adjectives, then walk around your house and find inanimate objects to weave into catchy lines.
”’Blubbering’ and ‘quaking.’ What’s in the fridge? Goddamn something smells…fuck, how long has this squash been in here?”
”Oh, ‘dimwitted.’ What the fuck is this on my daughter’s bedroom floor? Her boyfriend must’ve left it after he jumped out the window at 5AM.
They’re clever, and they’re brutal…but it’s too bad that Big Brain Energy doesn’t translate into Big Wins, huh?
I might be brand new to HOW, bro, but I’m not brand new, get it? I’m not walkin’ in here like I ain’t done my homework, because that Day One n00b Shit is about to be renamed the Devin DeSean Special. Yeah, you hurt people, no doubt, but you ain’t exactly the MVP when it comes to winnin’ the big ones, are you? You’re thinkin’ your luck’s gonna change in the DeNucci Cup, and I’m sure it would’ve if ol’ Devin wasn’t the way that he is, but it’s not gonna come at my expense.
And before you say it; no, I ain’t one to talk, because I ain’t done shit in my career. And I certainly ain’t done shit in HOW.
I just call ‘em like I see ‘em. And sure, you’ll give me the lip service of, “I will take you very seriously because I take every match seriously,” but you can drop the pretense, bro. Your whole spiel was you not takin’ me seriously. And that’s fine; you can look past ol’ Johnny Dorn and treat this Elite Eight match like it’s gonna be a walk in the park, because I’ve got a surprise for you.
I’m fixin’ to play spoiler.
I’m gonna be the Cinderella of the DeNucci Cup.
Every tournament needs one, y’know. Where’s the fun in seein’ every foregone conclusion make it to the Finals? Your Duke Blue Devils, your Kansas Jayhawks, your Kentucky Wildcats…they’re always powerhouses, year after year. Always high seeds in the tournament. Always in the running, never counted out.
Vegas may love ‘em, but the real stories are the little guys. The mid-majors. Davidson in ‘08. VCU in 2011. Wichita State, 2013. And in 2018, Loyola-Chicago. The teams with no hope and no prayer who come out of nowhere and shock the world. Topple giants of the sport. They all went on a run and while they didn’t do the impossible and win it all…I’ve got just as good a chance, if not better.
That’s gonna be me. This is wrestling’s March Madness, and I’m about to be the biggest story comin’ out of this whole shebang. The man who conquered Murder Daddy.
“The Dark Horse” Johnny Dorn.
Did I say somethin’ worth caring’ about now?