Dig

I used to know this feller, right? Real nosy fucker.

Guy loved nothin’ more than to grab the figurative trowel with both hands and dig deep into matters that didn’t concern him.

Every so often, I’d try and warn the prick off.

I’d tell him to mind his own business. That if he wasn’t careful, that big ol’ nose of his would land him in some serious fuckin’ grief.

This one afternoon we were havin’ a drink at the local bar when he overheard some feller havin’ a row with his good lady.

Ever the fuckin’ explorer, he couldn’t help but poke his nose in the guy’s private affairs.

Poor bastard had scarcely put his phone away before he was all over him like a cheap fuckin’ suit.

For nigh-on an hour, he poked and probed the poor cunt as if he were topsoil, tryin’ to unearth all his best kept secrets.

Me? I sat there watchin’ knowin’ full-damn well what would happen if I didn’t try to stop it.

So? I advised caution.

I told him to back off and give the poor bastard a break, but the fucker ignored my advice.

Instead, he kept diggin’ away more and more, until eventually – the feller had heard enough.

He grabbed the nearest empty bottle he could and wrapped it right around the son of bitch’s thick skull as hard as he fuckin’ could.

You know what? You ain’t too dissimilar to that old drinkin’ buddy of mine.

Since the day you showed up in Hell’s Kitchen, it’s proven quite the excavation site for you, ain’t it?

You walked in the door carryin’ that little Lara Croft bag on your back and you scaled this desolate wasteland, diggin’ feverishly for clues that might lead you to your beloved Pa.

Despite your shortcomings, Old School Wrestling has enabled you to take on your favourite pastime, unearthin’ many treasures along the way – not least the OSW World Championship.

It took you to Heartbreaker, where despite all the warnin’ signs you plunged that trowel of yours deep into somethin’ that didn’t concern you, landin’ yourself in all kinds of bother.

You meddled in affairs that weren’t yours to meddle in, and as fate would have it – you got bit.

I thought you might have learnt your lesson; that OSW is not the kind of adventure for you.

But just like that old drinkin’ partner of mine, you just can’t help but pry around in other people’s business, can ya?

And now? You’ve brought your dig to my back yard.

But bury that shovel too deep and you’ll soon discover there ain’t no clues or answers here, nor best kept secrets about me.

When someone uncovers The Head Snake’s lair, they always bite off more than they can chew.

Disturb my garden, son, and all you’ll find is a nest full of hungry vipers waitin’ to feast.

So take my advice; I’ll only offer it once.

Pack up your tools and take your dig someplace fuckin’ else…

Or the Snakes will cut your head off.