You snicker at the anthropomorphic dire wolf giving the interview on Sports Center.
The wolf's name was Bolan Forrest, and he had flown over from London a week ago to get his ass kicked by you. Now he was going on every show he could go on to whine about how unfair it was that you so absolutely kicked his ass.
European wolves are so fucking pathetic, you think to yourself.
You're sitting by yourself in your media room, deciding if you want to invite over some bros or some hos. Maybe both.
Or neither, you decide. It's just too much trouble to do anything right now. And anyway, everything bores you so easily these days.
That's about to change. Or you hope it's about to. Tomorrow you have an appointment with
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