Try As You May, You’ll Never Be As Dope As Your KING

By: Paul Montuori

Writing Prompt: No

Date: 31st Mar 2022

I’ve been having an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach ever since my match against Sahara. Ever since I defeated her and kept my Manhattan strap. In a hard fought battle. While I picked up another win and remain undefeated in 2022, this win feels different somehow. Usually I’d be celebrating. At the Rabbit blowing my winnings. I’d be out, shouting from the mountaintops, gloating about how fucking awesome I am. How the person I just beat was basura. How I proved I was more than the guy that lost to Dickie. More than Joe’s little brother. More than Brandon Moore’s tag partner. More than a fluke. More than Michelle’s down ass bitch.

But for some reason, I don’t feel like gloating.

And before you ask, yes, I got tested and I was negative. Covid isn’t eating my brain.

I just.. I don’t know. I can’t put my finger on it.


Sorry, not sorry Lauren. You knew there was no way I wasn’t going to show out. My first title defense, my first chance at proving I’m somebody. It was a do or die match for me. I don’t think you had nearly as much invested in the match as I did. But could you imagine how unbearable you would’ve been if you had beaten me? Dear Gawd, I would’ve had to stay away from the Rabbit for a year. You and Thad would’ve been so annoying with your gaudy celebrations. Luckily for the rest of us, it was my night. See girl, I’m just not ready to let this strap go. I look too fucking good holding it..

So for that, I’d like to apologize to you. It’s my understanding that losing to me set you off. You’re spiraling. Once great and cocky Sahara is looking to retire. I slapped the smile off your face, huh? My bad, I guess. Or at least that’s the narrative people on Twitter are pushing, right? Sore loser and all. But you’re not going to retire. Let’s be honest, you love the spotlight. What are you gonna do instead? Be a housewife? Sure that will work out well. It’s not like Thad has a whole team of people that cater to his every whim. He’s even got you to cater to his every horny whim..

Sound the fucking trumpets!

Your King is still alive and well, still your Manhattan Champion! Still your everything! Kneel before me and accept the rays of awesomeness that radiate off of my beautiful body!

Warstein, that includes you, papi.

2022 is the Year of Paul.

Witness me!

The Montuori (I really need to deal with my childhood trauma and figure out my real last name) Bus is going to keep on fucking rolling. Metaphorically and figuratively speaking.

The Montuori Bus metaphorically keeps on rolling into Venom #19. Into Nashville, Tennessee. Fresh off a successful title defense, right into ‘Mr. Number One Contender Himself’ Shawn Warstein. You heard that right, Paul Montuori and the next Empire Champion Shawn Warstein at Venom #19. Not a huge, high profile match with a gradual build. An episode of Venom. The disrespect.

Why is this just some throwaway fucking match? Paul Montuori/Shawn Warstein is on the level of Ali/Frazier. Stratford/Wolf. It should be headlining a huge show inside of a fucking coliseum. We should be doing a world tour to hype up the fucking match. My face plastered all over billboards. And weather balloons. Fuck put my face on the moon so whenever people feel down, they can look up at my beautiful face and have their spirits suddenly lifted.

We’re not even the main event of Venom. Fucking Dickie and Joe. Pft.. Snoozefest if I’ve ever seen one. Nah, Shawn Warstein and Paul Montuori should be closing out the show. Anyone and me should be closing out any show. But they wanna act like the people don’t come for Paul Montuori. Aight, as always I’ll have to steal the fucking show. Per typical.. I’d apologize to ya Warstein, but I know you’re used to the fucking disrespect..

The Montuori Bus rolls on figuratively as in I have an actual fucking bus. Not the yellow school bus kind. Or the Winnebango type. More like the rapper on tour kind. Minus the hos. I’m a one woman kinda guy now.. After some begging and pleading to Machelle, and a couple stacks of course, Madison was allowed to fly out to the Hills of Hollywood for spring break. So instead of just laying out by the pool I figured we’d have a family road trip. The Hills of Hollywood to Nashville. A little family bonding on the open road.

Here I am, standing in my driveway, staring at the bus I just scooped up. I didn’t have time to wrap it in my beautiful face, completely bummed out about that. But I’m not going to let it damper my mood. Our mood.. So while Michelle ran out to get her 100th Starbucks of the day, I snuck Maddie out of the guesthouse she was hiding in and we packed up everything in the bus. Including Rosa and Ezra.

And as if the planets are aligning for our trip, I see Michelle pulling up the driveway just as we finish. I rush everyone onto the bus and close the door just in time to see her park and hop out. She walks around the front of the car and pulls the sunglasses down the bridge of her nose.

“What the fuck is this?” She says as she takes a pull from the straw in her coffee.

“This, my dear, is luxury on wheels.”

“I’m not getting on that,” she says as she turns around and goes to walk into the house. I run up to her and spin her around.

“Whoa, you’re not even going to take a look inside.”


“No? Well, why the fuck not?”

“Why would I? It’s not like I would ever ride one of those.”

“Why not?”

“Fuck Paul because why would I ride on a bus for hours when we can fly private and be ther in a fraction of the time? Seriously, don’t you know me?”

“Yeah of course, you’re boujie as fuck. But I thought maybe it’d be fun to take a little road..”

“No, don’t you even say it.”


“Not happening. You wanna drive that thing, go right ahead. Let me know where you’re going and we’ll meet you there.”


“Yeah we, Paul. Me, Ezra. Rosa if she doesn’t have any manmeat lined up. Maybe even Maddie, I think her spring break is coming up. I can go pick up Maddie in the plane and meet you wherever you have planned.”

“What fun is that? I thought we’d take a little road trip to Nashville. That way we can relax and rest before our matches. You got Apathy, that ho don’t play. And you know I got Warstein. This trip could be good for us.. Plus, I brought you a surprise,” I say as I turn back to the bus and push the door open. Madison comes stepping off. She runs into Michelle’s arms who laughs and embraces her.

“What are you doing here?” Michelle says as she pulls away and smiles at Maddie.

“Dad thought it’d be cool to surprise you for once.”

“Well tell your Dad this bus isn’t cool.”

“It’s not that bad. Wait until you see the inside. It has beds and TVs and a living room,” Maddie says.

“No, not you too! What did he promise you?” Michelle says, eying me up suspiciously. “I’ll double however much cash he said he’d give you.”

“Wow double?” Maddie says as she turns to look at me. I mouth ‘triple’ to her as she smiles and turns back to Michelle. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“Ugh..” Michelle says sighing. “Fine, but the minute it stops being fun we’re flying.”

“Yay!” I scream out like a little bitch as I run up and hug them both. “This is gonna be way better than National Lampoons.. Come on ladies, all aboard!”

“Oh no..”



After drivinging all day, I decided to make a stop for the night at my buddies place on the Navajo Reservation in New Mexico. My boy, Chief Lotta Blunt, used to hook me up with peyote way back in the day. I’ve spent many a night talking to the original ancestors of this native land. Guiding me the best they could down a righteous path. And lawd knows they tried their hardest.

I made hotdogs over the fire on some real camping shit. But Sabretts, only the best. Of course Michelle and Rosa wanted no part of it. Boujie ass bitches. Lucky for me Maddie has my sense of adventure. Wait, fuck, I hope not all of my sense of adventure. Only the PG kind. I’m so fucked..

Michelle and Rosa did eat the s’mores I made though. Course they had no problem with that. Asking for seconds and thirds and shit. But I didn’t mind cause Michelle would lick the chocolate off my fingers all seductive as fuck. She’d then sneak a grab at the Monty Python, watching me get riled up then she’d pull away and laugh. Maddie had no idea what was going on but I suspect Rosa knew what was up. She kept trying to sneak a peek.

Rosa eventually took Ezra on the bus to retire for the night. The three of us stayed sitting by the fire, Michelle cuddled up on my lap. It was a pretty dope night, shooting the shit with my babe and my daughter. Stone sober as crazy as it sounds. And it was the most fun I’ve had in a while.

Michelle kept giving me that look to bring up the conversation we’d been wanting to have with Maddie ever since Michelle moved back to the Hills of Hollywood with me. Finally I muster up the courage as Michelle calls me a ‘lil bitch’ under her breath.

“We wanted to ask you something,” I say as Madison looks over at Michelle and I.

“Yeah?” She asks.

“We were uh.. Sort of wondering if uh.. If you.. If you’d like to..”

“Jesus Paul spit it out. We want to know if you liked to come live with us?” Michelle says, shooting me an annoyed side eye. A look of excitement comes over her face, before the smile disappears. As if she suddenly thought of something.

“Oh I don’t know,” she finally replies.

“What don’t you know?” I ask.

“I mean, it’s a nice thought.”

“But,” I say.

“But I don’t think my mom would let me.”

“Let us worry about your mom,” I say. Something still seems to be bothering her.

“I’m going to bed,” Michelle says as she gives me a kiss on the cheek and whispers in my ear. “Don’t be a pussy and talk to her. You know what’s bothering her.” She stands up and walks over to Madison and gives her a kiss on the top of her head. “Goodnight Madie, don’t let your dad stay up too late.”

“I know, he’s such a grouch if he doesn’t get enough sleep,” she replies with a grin on her face.

“I need at least 8 hours to maintain this beautiful face,” I say. They both roll their eyes as Michelle hops on the bus and closes the door.

An awkward silence suddenly falls over us. I try to think of something to say. Anything to say. I don’t get it. I thought we were over this. I look over at her as she pokes the fire with a stick. Is that what Michelle was talking about when she said I knew what was bothering her? Does she know who she’s talking to? I’m like thee worst with females. Not like that ad guy from ‘What Women Want.’ Maybe I should drop a hair dryer into the tub with me..

Suddenly I remember the elephant in the room.

I disappeared on her after losing to Dickie at Ascension. After I gained her trust and we built a relationship. A loving relationship. After I finally got her to open up. I just dipped on her. Without a word. I spiraled out of control. Poor girl, she had no idea what happened to me. Had no clue if I died or not. I couldn’t even imagine what she went through. All because I was fucking selfish. Over a fucking loss. Like if she really cared about any of that. I went into a depression because I lost a match. But that selfishness made me lose a lot more. I lost custody of Maddie to Machelle. I lost her trust. I know that now. I know she’s the most important thing in my life right now. And I have to do everything I can to regain her trust. Rebuild that relationship. Sitting her, looking at her in front of me, I just can’t understand how I put her through all of that..

“I uh.. I don’t think I ever said sorry.”

“For what?” She asks. She knows what I’m talking about, I can see it in her eyes.

“For.. For disappearing on you. For being selfish. For letting you down,” I say, choking back tears.

“You didn’t let me down,” she replies. I don’t believe her. I don’t think she believes it either.

“I let you down. I was completely selfish and self-centered.. You deserved better, you deserve better,” I say standing up. I walk over to her and kneel down next to her. “I know I’ve fucked up. I know I’ve apologized before. Said I was going to do better, be better. I know I broke that promise already, and you have no reason to believe me anymore. But I fucking love you kid. And since you’ve been back with your mom, away from me, there’s been this big hole in me. A hole I thought the Manhattan strap would fill. Then when that didn’t work, I for sure thought Michelle would fill it. But she fills a different hole.”

“Ew gross,” she laughs as she wipes the tears from her face.

“Wait.. That’s not what I meant. Ha, sort of a double meaning there, I get it now. Not entirely wrong though. Sumlilbit or whatever.. Anyway, I can’t say sorry enough for what I did to you. Abandoning you the way I did. But that person is behind me. You’ll never have to see that person again. I honestly can say that, for the first time in my life. And that’s mainly because of you kid. Because of the love I have for you. I promised myself never to let you down again and I’d rather lose my hair than do that to you ever again.”

“Wow, that’s serious,” she says. The smile suddenly appears back on her face, that look of excitement coming back into her eyes. “If you ever disappear and leave me with your cousin again, I’ll shave your head myself.”

“I’ll bring the clippers,” I say as I stand up and pull her up into a huge bear hug. I don’t ever want to let her go. My daughter. My love. I’ll never let her down. I can’t. “So does this mean I can be your dad again?”

“You never stopped being my dad,” she replies. “Moms never going to go for me moving out here with you and Michelle. She hates both of you.”

“Don’t worry about your mom, I got some tricks up my sleeve,” I say, lying through my teeth. I have no idea how I’m going to convince Machelle to let Madison move out to Cali with us. It’s going to be a crazy amount of money. But Madison is worth it.. And that’s a problem for another night. I rather enjoy this moment a little longer..

We stand out there in the chilly night, hugging each other next to the fire for a few more moments. Everything I’ve done in my life, my career.. Weird how none of that even comes close to comparing to this feeling..

“I’m ready for bed,” she finally says. “You coming with?”

“Go ahead, I gotta put out this fire,” I reply. She smiles and nods, stepping on the bus. I sit back down in front of the fire, taking a moment to soak up what just happened. I can’t stop smiling. My heart feels so full. I know it’s going to be a battle with Machelle, but Madison is worth it. Worth every ounce of strength it’s going to take. Actually, let’s be honest, she’s worth every dollar it’s going to take to fight Machelle.

It wasn’t too long ago that I thought the last thing Madison needed in her life was me. At my lowest, I convinced myself the best thing for her was for me to be as far away as possible. That she deserved more than me. I think I was trying to cover up that I didn’t think I deserved to have her in my life. That I deserved to have someone love me the way she loved me. Punishing myself. But I couldn’t have been more wrong. She needs me. I need her. We need each other. I knew I had to let that self-loathing bullshit go. I deserved to let it go. And when I did, it seems like everything just started to fall into place..


My head jerks up to the sound, trying to see past the fire into the darkness.


“Who’s there?” I say as I stand up. I pick up a stick laying on the ground and walk around the fire. Wait, the fuck I need this stick for? I’m Paul Montuori. I toss the stick to the side and walk further into the darkness. “Hello?”

“Hello Paul,” I hear a familiar voice say from behind me, a chill running up my spine. I turn back around to the fire to see a silhouette sitting on a log. I slowly walk towards it, feeling dread overtaking me. Hoping, praying, it’s not who I think it is. I close my eyes momentarily as I walk past the figure and sit down. I slowly open them..


“Who else?”

“I don’t understand,” I somehow get out. I feel frozen in place, barely able to catch my breath. I try to avoid it’s eyes, those fucking eyes. Burn a hole in my soul..

“You never do. That’s your charm. The bumbling idiot.”

“Better the bumbling idiot than the moody bitch,” I say before instantly regretting it. I have to ignore it. It isn’t real. It can’t be real. No way it can be real. It has to be in my head. I gotta figure out how to deal with it, get rid of it.. “What do you want?”

“Can’t I visit with an old friend?”

“We’re not friends. We’re not.. You’re not real. A figment of my imagination. You’re made up,” I say, almost pleading. I just want it to go away and never come back. Never bother me anymore. Let me live my fucking life without having that feeling of dread chained to my fucking ankle.

“Shh, quiet now Paul,” it almost whispers, holding a crooked finger to its paint-smeared lips. “The pleasantries are over. It’s storytime.”

“Storytime? What the fu..”

“Quiet!” It shrieks at me before returning to an almost whisper. “Not long ago, a woman became pregnant. Everyone thought it was a joyous occasion as she convinced many that the baby was her husbands. For you see, the baby was not the husbands. The baby belonged to the mother’s best friend, who also was the husband’s best friend. Quite a conundrum she found herself in.”

“Wait.. What? Are you saying.. Ezra’s not my kid.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Michelle told me herself.”

“So Michelle has known not to lie.”

“Ezra’s B’s kid. She told me herself,” I say, starting to feel uncertain myself. That kid looks just like I did as a baby. I’ve seen B’s baby pictures, eek. Kid has luscious hair and a cute smile. Just like me. Could it be? Could Michelle have been lying this entire time? B made some offhanded comments, but I thought it was just the jealousy and the H talking..

“Looks like you’re not completely surprised.”

“No uh.. You’re just trying to get into my fucking head. No.. Just go the fuck away. Go away!” I scream.

“Dad?” I turn to see Madison standing at the door of the bus. “Are you OK?”

“Yeah uh..” I say as I turn to see it’s gone. The fuck. I stand up, quickly putting out the fire and walking onto the bus. I help Madison into her bunk and pull up the covers on her.

“I love you,” I say, kissing her on the forehead. She looks up at me and smiles.

“I love you too, Dad.”

“Goodnight,” I say, my heart melting for a moment before the flashes of it’s visit creeps into my mind. I quickly close the curtain and towards the room in the back. I stand at the door, taking a couple deep breaths, regaining my composure. I finally walk in, seeing Michelle laying in bed on her phone. Probably on Twitter talking shit to someone. Gawd she’s amazing. I close the door and crawl into bed next to her, nuzzling her neck.

“So?” She asks.

“So, what?”

“How’d it go?” Michelle asks, putting down the phone. I stop feeling her up and sit up in bed. Did she see us out there? Fuck..

“Oh uh.. With what?”

“With what? With Madison? You’re lucky you’re pretty.”

“Aww thanks.. Oh uh.. It went.. Way better than I expected. I grew the balls you didn’t think I had and apologized. But like, really apologized. She forgave me, I think. And wants to move in but doesn’t think Machelle will let her. And honestly, I don’t know how we’re going to convince her.”

“You leave Machelle up to me. I’m happy you talked to Maddie and got it worked out. I miss having her around,” she says as she picks her phone back up.

“Me too..” I say as I sit there twiddling my thumbs for a moment. “So.. Since I did good.. Think we can make love now?”



“I hate when you call it that.”

“What? Making love?”

“Don’t be so soft Paul.”

“Is that a no?”

“No, it’s not a no. But only if you keep the screaming down. I don’t want to traumatize Maddie.”

“No promises..”



On the road again.

We’re somewhere in Texas or Oklahoma. Or one of those states. All the same shit. Looks all the same. Dead town after dead town. After what seems like hours of Michelle bombarding me with..

Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?

Michelle goes to the back to lay down with Ezra and take a nap. Madison has her headphones on and Rosa is watching her novelas, finally leaving me with peace and quiet..

That’s when I feel the bus start to limp along.

“Fuck,” I let out as I pull the bus over to the side of the road. I look back to see  the door to the back room still closed. I gotta get this bus back on the road before  she wakes up or I’ll never hear the end of this.

I sneak off the bus to find a fucking flat. Great..

Well at least I know how to change one. Funny story, Vhodka actually showed me once. She may come across as a dunce to some, well she ain’t too bright. But she can change a mean tire.

I walk around to the back of the bus only to stop and realize I have no idea where to find the spare. Or the jack. It’s gotta be massive right? To be able to jack a bus up. Is that even possible to do? Wait, I might have to call someone right? Fuck Paul, why didn’t you pay attention when she was explaining..

“Alright Mr. Montuori, in the event of a flat tire..”

Damn she has some tig o’ bitties, I thought to myself as I stared at the buttons ready to pop at any moment. She had to know what she was doing, right? Flopping those fun bags around. As she should if she so desires. She has every right to dress anyway she wants without guys drooling over here. That’s the right answer, right?

Fuck Thad’s gonna be so fucking judgy again..

Oh yeah, that’s why..

“I knew something like this would happen,” I hear Michelle say. I look up to see her hanging out the window. Great.. “And now here we are, stuck who the fuck knows where.”

“It’s alright, I’ll just call Bambi..”

“Who the fuck is Bambi?”

“Oh she’s the lady that sold me the bus.”

“Wait, you bought this thing?”

“Yeah? How else were we supposed to go on a road trip? They just don’t let people borrow them.”

“They actually do. It’s called renting Paul. You pay someone to borrow something. Everyone knows you can rent anything. Since the beginning of time. How don’t you know that?”

“I can’t know everything!”

“No, just know anything,” she mutters under her breath.

“What’d you say?”

“Uh.. Your hair looks so beautiful today.”

“You really think so? I forgot my pre-shower cream and my post-conditioning treatment. I think I might see a split end,” I say as I hold a lock of my beautiful hair up to the sun.

“Yeah, whatever. So are you going to call Bambi?”

“Oh yeah, right Bambi. Uhm.. Maybe I should call Warstein instead.”

“Why would you call him?”

“Why? Uh.. Me and Warsteiner are boys. Duh.”

“You’re not.”

“Nah I am.”

“You’re really not though. He doesn’t even like you.”

“That’s just his persona. Kayfabe babe,” I say as I pull out my phone. Great no reception. This is gonna go over well. “Soo.. Little bit of a problem. Got zero bars.”

“What the fuck Paul? I told you to switch from Cricket Wireless. You have money, you don’t have to cheap out.”

“Bruh I been off Cricket. Relax. We passed a gas station a couple miles back. Lock the doors, I’ll be back before nightfall.”


“Alright? You’re not worried about being left alone out here?”

“Bitch please, I’m Miss Michelle. They can try and bring the smoke.”

“Damn I wanna fuck you right now.”

“Fix the tire and we can talk,” she says as she flashes those beautiful breasts and closes the window.

She’s the best..

Like Matthew MacCougnehay (I know I butchered it) in that movie where he’s walking in the desert, or like everyone in every movie walking in the desert, I was fucking hot and thirsty with my shirt wrapped around my head like a turban. It felt like hours, only to look down at my watch to see barely an hour had passed.

But there, finally, the gas station. A rundown gas station from the ‘50’s. I push open the dirty ass door and step inside. Fuck, no ac. A fan stands in the corner of the small gas station, blowing hot ass air into my face. The bathroom door is to the left, I’m so tempted to go wash myself down. But by the looks of this place, the facilities have got to be so gross.

I open the door to the cooler, expecting a shot of cold air to revitalize me. Instead I’m greeted with a barely 83 degrees of warm air. There goes that thought of being all sexy like that Coke commercial where I’m all hot and sexy and sweaty and I crack open a Coke and down it while being all hot and sexy and sweaty.

Take notes Warstein, this is what you’re up against.

I grab a Sunkist, cause fuck Fanta. Warm. Great. But at least it’ll quench my dry mouth. I really shouldn’t have smoked that joint on the trek to the gas station. But alas, I find myself cracking open the warm ass Sunkit and taking a huge gulp. I probably should’ve drank a water first was my first thought followed by..

Who loves Orange Soda?

Paul loves Orange Soda!

“Hey, you need to pay for that,” I hear someone say. I turn to see some guy behind the counter.

“Yeah, I know. I’m just wetting my beak,” I say as I take another gulp.

“I’m serious. You go on and pay now and get going. We don’t like your kind around these parts.”

“My kind? What kind is that? I’m fucking Italian. Well, at least half. I don’t know what my father is. I really haven’t dealt with that yet, ya know? Finding out my parents weren’t really my parents was a lot to unpack. I still haven’t gotten over the initial shock. Might be a minute before I can delve into that. Ya know?”

“What in tarnations are you talking about boy?”

“Now you’re going to call me boy? Fucking racist.”

“I’m not racist. My wife is Mexican you idiot.”

“Then what the fuck is your problem?”

“You! You’re naked!”

“Fuck you talking about?” That’s when I look down. Yep. Butt ass. Just shoes and socks. And can’t forget the turban made out of my shirt. The fuck happened to my pants? I feel the bottle of Sunkist slip through my fingers and fall to the ground. There’s nothing I can do to stop it. I start to feel weak, dizzy.

“You alright Bill?” I hear someone say followed by a ginormous hand on my shoulder. I look up to see a mammoth of a man. But his face, my gawd his face. The fucking legend is true. I fucking knew it.


But wait, no way was I going to let him murk me inside this filthy gas station. I ain’t going out like that. It’s gotta at least be a Wawa. I grab the huge paw of a hand and twist it on some Stephen Segal type shit. I pivot, let go and start to talk off when..

Lights out..



I’m laying on my back, floating on a cloud. Upwards. Up through clouds. Towards a bright, blinding light. I feel at peace. A serene sound filling the air..

A silhouette appears. I sit up and try to make out who it is. But the light. It’s so bright. Slowly I get closer. And closer. Until I can finally make him out. An old white guy with a long white beard. Dressed in a white robe. Holding a golden staff. Behind him gates that are almost pearly. I float up until I’m at his feet.

“Paul Montuori? Oh fuck no!” The man screams as he uses his staff to push the cloud I’m sitting on back.

“Wait, hold on,” I say as I start to descend.

“It is not your time. Not while I’m guarding the gates. Go, live a few more years,” he says as a look of relief comes over his face.

“But wait..” I’m able to utter before I start to descend at a rapid pace.


Eyes open.

In darkness. But not pitch black. I sit up. I try to gain my bearings. My head’s pounding. I reach back and feel a bandage on the back of my head. Then it all comes back to me. The road trip. Madison. How I hopefully fixed it with her. Making sweet love to Michelle. Breaking day. That freak! Bopping me in the head! What the fuck?! Michelle! Madison! Ezra! Rosa! Fuck they must be worried sick. I gotta get out of here.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed and slowly stand up, expecting to have some kind of restraints on. Chains, handcuffs, a fucking belt. I stand up and slowly cross the room, the floorboards creaking underneath me with every step. I reach the door and turn the knob, open it slowly. Of course hinges are squeaky as fuck. I stick my head out the door and see all of the lights are turned off, with the exception of a light emanating from a room next to the front door. Great.. I slowly walk towards the door, expecting the fucking worst. Just when I start to actually have a dope ass personal life, fucking this. I swear if anything has happened to anyone of them, Bambi’s going to get a strongly worded fucking email for talking me into getting the bus.

What? Expect me to say I’d stab a bitch like B Moore? That’s his gimmick.

I come to a stop inches before reaching the door. I peek into the room, a kitchen, seeing someone’s back turned to me.

I bolt out of the front door and instantly see the bus parked a few yards away. I take off running towards it when I see that mammoth of a man bent over by where the flat tire was. I slow down and creep up behind him. I grab a tool laying next to him and I raise it, ready to smash his fucking brains in.


“Michelle?” I turn around to see Michelle running towards me. I turn around to bash buddy’s skull in but he’s already turns around and stood up, catching the tool in his paws.

“Whoa, settle down,” he says.

“Fuck that! You attacked me! Kidnapped me and Michelle! Where’s Madison? Where’s Ezra? Where’s Rosa?”

“Aqui pendejo,” I hear Rosa say as I turn to see her stepping off of the bus.

“Paul you shouldn’t be standing,” Michelle says as I turn to see her standing next to me. “Get on the bus and lay down.”

“No, we gotta fuck this guy up first before he murders us all.”

“What are you talking about?”

“This guy attacked me in the gas station.”

“I assure you that I didn’t attack you.”

“Bullshit, then how’d I end up with a fucked up head. I don’t have a bandage taped to my head, each strain of my beautiful locks in danger of being forever ruined, all for nothing.”

“Reckon you had a heat stroke and passed out. But before you did, you dropped that soda on the ground. We think right before you passed out you started hallucinating from heat exhaustion. You tried to run but slipped on the Sunkist and hit your head pretty good.”

“Bullshit. How’d you get here Michelle? And how’d the bus end up here?”

“I don’t have shitty Cricket so I had signal. I called your phone and it rang. He answered and lucky us he owns a mechanic shop. Towed us here and changed our flat for us. Even made us food.”

“Wait, if you knew you had signal why didn’t you stop me walking to the gas station?”

“So you’d see how right I was about road trips.”

“You let me walk out in the fucking heat for miles, almost dying, all to prove that you were right?”

The devilish grin on her face says it all.

Damn she’s the best..



FIGHT! loves a shoot, let’s shoot..

For those of you living under a fucking rock, your KING is still here. Still alive and well. Still the fucking Manhattan Champion. Still the dopest dood in all of pro wrestling. Still banging the hottest chick in the entire galaxy. Still Paul motherfucking Montuori!

Now that that’s out of the way..

Let’s move onto the reason why we’re all here today..

Shawn Warstein..

You’re the Great White Hope The guy people think can dethrone Dickie. Like actually think you can win. No one thought I had a chance. And I guess I proved them right. For sure no one thought Dane had a chance. I don’t even know why he wasted his Blood Money. One of life’s many mysteries

Like why you’re with the Status Heauxs?

Wait, is that still a thing?

You guys came out with such a bang at Ascension. Such fucking hype. Everyone in the industry was blowing you guys. ‘O M G! James Raven and Dickie and Shawn Warsteiner and Betsy and I uh..’ Damn I don’t really remember the other chick’s name. Is she still alive? Haven’t really seen her around. She was hot though.. Everyone thought you guys were going to run FIGHT!, such high hopes. But ya’ll never really did anything special. Seems like the Status Heauxs fizzled out before anything great could be achieved. Stories of the egos and infighting must be true. I honestly think the beginning of the end was when your KING took the Island straps from you guys. I put a stop to the momentum your crew had rolling, running into the brick wall that is Paul Montuori.

Sorry not sorry for destroying the morale of your little stable.

But it’s better now, right? You’re finally stepping out of the shadow of Dickie and Raven. Cause bruh, you’ve been flying under the radar this entire time. Have you even lost during your entire run here? In singles competition? Dickie lost early on, but I don’t think you ever had. And can’t you see that as a problem? In a promotion so stacked with talent, you’ve pretty much remained undefeated. And what’s that gotten you? Not a fucking thing, lost in the shuffle of the Status Heauxs. Lost in the shadow of Dickie Watson and James Raven. Even lost in the shadow of James Raven’s Love Triangle. And you’re a guy double the Blood Money of everyone else..

No more Shawn!

As your KING, I decree it’s time you spread those wings and fly my pretty butterfly!

Soar above the clouds, soar above the Status Heauxs! Far out of their shadow!

I know you can do it!

Trust me, if anyone knows a thing or two about being in someone else’s shadow it’s your boy. Me, Shawn, I’m talking about me. Cause honestly, I don’t think those guys in the Status Heauxs are really your friends.. See, I don’t know if you knew this, but I’m sort of related to a loud-mouth who craves attention. You might have heard of him. Joe Montuori? Yeah that one. I’ve unfortunately been stuck in that fuckers shadow most of my career. SHADOW MONTUORI Yeah real funny.. Which is kind of ironic, I fought my entire career to build onto the name of Montuori. To add my own stamp on the Montuori name. And yet, after all these years, I’m Joe’s brother. I mean fuck Shawn, there were rumors going around that we were the same person. What kind of fuck shit is that? I’m obviously way doper than him. Like super obvious. And yet..


And to top it off Shawn, for some dumb fucking reason, some people actually think I was stuck in Brandon Moore’s shadow. That I needed him to be successful. More fuckery. Everyone can obviously see who the more talented of Dub Dub was. So fucking obvious. It’s all so fucking obvious for anyone with half a fucking brain.. I carried him to a championship win in OPW and I carried him to a championship win in FIGHT! and yet the disrespect continues for your KING. Just like it’s obvious who’s the most talented of the Status Heauxs.

And yet you’ve been stuck in a weird place of irrelevancy. Stuck, overlooked, unnoticed. Past up. Like people have been running their mouth about how the same people are spotlighted in FIGHT! every season, yet most of them have no leg to stand on cause they’re basura. It’s not my fault the cream rises to the top. But you Shawn, you have every reason to be bitter and angry at your spot on the card. You should’ve had a shot at the big times at least during Season Two. Instead you had to wait until Season.. Three? Fuck, I should know this, I promised I’d pay attention more..

But I guess it’s better late than never. You know, with you getting a shot at your boy Dickie and all. Are you guys even that good of friends? You don’t really seem like you belong in the same group. Like Dickie’s the emo kid. And you don’t wear guyliner..

Finally getting your shot at proving to everyone you’re more than that other guy in Status Heauxs. After all that hard work, you’re getting your moment in the spotlight. Your time to shine. After I guess chasing Dickie for a match for ages, your dream is finally coming true. And on the road to your epic showdown, you two are picking each other’s opponents. And I guess unlucky for you, you draw a Paul Montuori who’s on a roll. This won’t be a warmup match for you, not like Joe is gonna be for Dickie. Nah, see my Manhattan strap isn’t on the line, which means I can go out there and have fun and put on a fucking show. Good for me, good for the fans, not that great for you Shawn..

Crazy, even though I’m the biggest.. Or was the biggest thorn in Status Heaux’s side, we never ran across each other. I mean, not really. Never got in the ring with each other. Which is a fucking shame. Especially for the fans. I for sure thought it was going to be you and Raven taking on Brandon and me for those Island straps. I was looking forward to that. It’s the match everyone wanted. Instead we got the Aussie. I guess it was the easier path to the win, but I still rather have had you in the match. Would’ve been a lot more fun. Finally getting into the ring with Status Heaux’s Unsung Hero. And honestly, you’re about to become FIGHT!’s.

Better late than never, right? Seemingly the running theme of this promo. Better late than never. Better late than never to make up with my daughter. Better late than never to get your chance at the spotlight. To get a shot at Dickie. A shot at the big times. Shot at getting the attention you deserve.. Better than than never to get in the ring with me and show the world why I’m the fucking dopest. And I guess you too..

I saw what you said about Michelle. Not cool. I don’t mean about her bad taste in men. You’re right about her marrying Brandon Moore. But you’re absolutely wrong about me. I’m a fucking catch bruh. Nah, I’m referring more to the slut shaming. It’s 2022, who still tells a chick all she’s good for is sucking dick? That’s so 2002. And I would know because I would’ve said the same exact thing. Two decades ago. Ya gotta change with the times Shawn, evolve. Not resort to being a sexist pig. Come on papi, you’re better than that. You need to be better than that. The little Warsteiner’s out there deserve a better role model than that. Deserve someone better to look up to than a hero that degrades women. No way can we have our next FIGHT! Empire Champion acting like that. Time to grow up Shawn..

Kasey Fatbottom! That’s the other broad’s name in Status Heauxs. The other hot one. Wait.. That’s your wifey, right? Well hot damn you didn’t do too shabby for yourself. How about I get unoriginal and start to go in on her. How she’s sucking your dick in attempt to stay relevant. How no one’s seen or heard from her in ages, but there you are, trying to keep her memory alive in your promos. As if anyone gives a fuck if she’s here or not. Attempting to prop your girl up for the world to see that you aren’t some lonely, lame fuck living in a shack in Mexico. Dying for people to take you seriously. Dying for people to notice you.

Look at me! Look at me! I’m in Status Heauxs too!

Pft.. Lame fuck..

I could go into how your girl got a train ran on her just to be allowed in Status Heauxs. How her deepthroating skills are the only reason why she’s still around. Or how the reason she hasn’t really been seen is that your relationship is eroding. She realized she hitched her cart to the wrong horse. After seeing Atara slide in, she realized she should’ve gone after Raven. Cause honestly, her and Betsy aren’t really homegirls. Instead she’s stuck with you. No matter how many times she’ll be ass up, face down, it won’t change the fact that she realizes you were a mistake. She’s on the prowl for a new dick. I heard Dane Preston’s looking for Sahara’s replacement..

See how silly that sounds? Talking that fucking nonsese? I could go on all day Shawn, just like that. But nah, I’m above that. I’m your KING. As such, I’m here to hold myself up to a higher standard than that. For my entire KINGDOM. Including your Warsteiners papito. I’m not a hater like you. Why should I? I’m fucking awesome. I’m fucking beautiful. I’m the fucking King of the Mid-Card. I’m the FIGHT! Manhattan Champion. And as of Venom #20, I’ll be the FIGHT! Island Champion again. Paulie Dos Straps. I reconciled with my daughter and I got a dope ass chick. Life is good papi. Seriously no need to be a salty ass grump like you.

Again I totally get it. You’ve been held down by the man. Overlooked. Unappreciated. Taken for granted. All them fucking synonyms bruh. I get it. I get how that could turn a man into a moody ho. I get it. You’re frustrated with how stagnant your career has become in FIGHT! so you lash out. I get it. I’ve been there. Done that. But oddly enough, that was when I was younger. You’re a grown ass man dood. But I guess we all cope in our own ways. I get hammered and do drugs, disappearing for days at a time. You say mean things to people. To each his own.. And for everyone’s sake I hope you’ll be able to fulfill your prophecy of defeating Dickie. Hope you’ll prove everyone wrong that thinks you’re the third most interesting thing about Status Heauxs.

Funny I don’t know dick about you, but I know everything about you Shawn..

And not to sound like everyone in every match that’s ever happened in the history of pro wrestling, but before your shot at becoming Empire Champion, ya gonna have to survive me first.

Not a threat.

Just a reality check papi suave.

Venom #19.

Nosotro dos.

Match of the fucking century..