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Davey

Davey

I once knew a kid that was utterly obsessed by animals and creatures. It didn’t matter what it was, he loved it. If you wanted to find him at lunch, you’d go looking in the woods that surrounded our high school. He’d be there, looking for rabbits, foxes, badgers, or bugs.

Nothing stopped him from his pursuit of understanding animals and creatures, no matter how big nor small.

Until one day, he didn’t come back from lunch.

Everyone went out searching for him. It wasn’t like him to be tardy and no-one for a second thought he’d have purposefully not come back.

We searched high and low until one of the pupils found him. He was led on the floor, gasping for air. He couldn’t breathe. The teachers tried to help him but everything they did was in vain.

That poor boy died in those woods.

I remember how sad we all were. I remember how heart-breaking it was.

It’s funny Chip because I see so much of Davey in you.

His admiration, adoration and obsession for the creatures and animals of this world got him killed. All he wanted to do was be surrounded by the wild and when it finally came time, the wild reacted to him being there and took his life.

Now I’m afraid because I see myself in what killed Davey.

And when you try and grab me by the balls at Heatwave, I know exactly what’s gonna happen.

What no-one knew about Davey, including Davey, was that he was allergic to bees.

On that fateful day in the woods, he found himself beneath a bee hive and when one single sting struck him, it ended his poor little life before it had ever really begun.

I’m a bee, Chip.

I’m a buzzing, flying, sting you in a heartbeat kind of bee and when you grab me by the balls, I’m gonna have no choice but to put my stinger right in ya.

That’s a bee does, Montana.

It stings.

I have no idea if like Davey, you’re allergic to bees. I don’t know whether or not my sting will be the end of you, but I do know that it’ll be the end of your Championship hopes and our match.

I watched as they carted Davey out of those woods in a body bag because he was obsessed with nature – all kinds of nature, from the biggest and baddest to the smallest and most kind.

I’m not the biggest or baddest thing you’ll find out here, Chip.

Turns out, I don’t have to be.

All I need is a little sting in my step and given the right circumstances, that’ll be the end of you.