Thanks For Standing With Me

Dear Readers,

I've been hard at work crafting new adventures for you all. Every book journey is a long and rewarding process, and I truly appreciate your patience and unwavering support throughout. As a token of my gratitude, I'm excited to present a brand-new, free, short story titled 'Puppy Luv'.

Lately I’ve been fascinated with Professional Wrestlers. Theirs is a tough business and the mentality required to do it is inspiring. At least I find it to be so. Seems nearly every wrestler has a story of sacrifice and perseverance as they struggle to achieve their dream. Also, their fans are something else! Especially the young ones.

I particularly love watching videos where young fans meet their heroes in real life. These kids are touched in a way they’ll never forget. Sometimes, and you can see it in their faces, the encounter is wholly transformative. Naturally, as a writer, I tried to capture that beast in a net of words.

Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think of:

Puppy Luv

by Shawn M. Warner

The stink of spilled beer, soda, and popcorn worked on my nerves, making me buzz like I binged a pillowcase of Halloween candy. Anticipation jolted through my guts so hard I thought I was going to puke. To distract me from that nightmare, I fiddled with my baseball cap which, on  back-to-front, was kind of my trademark.

The main event was next. It was almost time!

As if soothing a skittish pet, I stroked the back of my sign to make sure, when the moment came, the cardboard wouldn’t curl into an epic fail. Mom patted my back in the same comforting way, trying to settle me, but my body couldn’t contain my excitement.

Springing to my feet, I rushed the barrier that separated the frantic crowd from the wrestlers as they strutted to the ring. Mom called out as I wormed through the crush of fans, but she didn’t understand. I had to be in front. She had to notice me. Without realizing I was screaming my voice joined the din while Mom’s was lost in the frenzy.

The lights blackened — a reverse lightning strike. Sucking in a collective gasp the crowd quelled, then erupted. Old-school blues, beefed up with a heavy-metal twist, roared out of every amplifier in the arena. Above the wrestler’s entrance, a jumbotron burned the words “Main Event” into the darkness.

The announcer, who snuck to the center of the ring during the blackout, yelled over the rock-and-roll. “Making her way to the ring, from the mean streets of L.A, your challenger for the Women’s Championship Belt, Bruiserrrrrrr Betty!”

Spotlights shredded what was left of the darkness. A grizzly-bear of a woman  stomped out from backstage, what us real fans knew was called Gorilla. She threw her arms over her head, letting loose a savage howl all twenty-thousand voices in attendance couldn’t subdue. Some of the shouts were cheers. Others, jeers. Bruiser Betty ignored both with equal disdain and slapped her massive, bare shoulders protruding from beneath a leather vest riddled with skull pins and motorcycle patches.

The arena’s lights came on once again. Roaring another crazed scream, Betty began her hulking lumber towards the ring.

“You’re going down,” I shouted as she passed. “She’s going to destroy you!”

A soft nudge jostled my arm. “You tell her, Jaden.”

I turned a beaming a smile up at Mom who, somehow, managed to wriggle her way beside me at the barrier.

Looking into the ring, I watched Betty take turns standing on the middle ropes at each corner. Every time she hoisted her thick arms above her head, the crowd shouted at her.

Once she finished her strutting and stomping, the arena was plunged back into pitch-black and the announcer spoke again. “And here is your reigning Women’s Champion, all six-foot three of her — The Celtic Warrior Queen — Boudicca!”

A low thrum of Celtic guitar filled the arena. It was joined by a fluttering flute. Fireworks, bagpipes, and spotlights exploded inside the arena in unison. At the top of the entrance ramp stood a giantess with flaming red hair.

Bathed in the spotlight, she looked every bit the legendary hero, striding toward an ancient battlefield, her beautiful face painted with blue Celtic war symbols. She drew a double-headed battle-ax from where it hung at her hip and raised it over her head imitating Thor and his hammer.

Boudicca’s arms were massive cables of muscle. Her legs, tree trunks. The Warrior Queen rippled in a way any male wrestler would envy.

I gasped in awe.

Mom shook me back to my senses. “Your sign! Don’t forget your sign!”

Just as Boudicca began her more dignified walk to the ring, I flipped my sign over the barrier wall. Using all my will, I silently pleaded, See me! Please, see me!

When Boudicca drew even to where I stood, she stopped. Slow and deliberate, a goddess deigning to look down from heaven, she turned her head and faced me.

She studied my sign, then looked me over again, her emerald green eyes burning straight into my soul. My heart gave a massive thump as she came over to where I was standing. Ignoring me, she leaned in towards Mom.

The crowd was so loud I couldn’t hear a thing, but saw Mom nod. Boudicca flashed a tricksters grin and, after tussling the cap on top of my head, resumed her slow, regal stroll to the ring. At the base of the walkway, she paused and said something to one of the security guards.

As she climbed the metal steps outside the ring, I watched her every move, burning inside. A pat on the head wasn’t what I’d hoped for, but so much more than I expected.

Entering the ring, Boudicca towered over everyone. Bruiser Betty took a swipe at her but, with an easy shove, Boudicca sent her staggering back to her own corner. Holding up her hand asking —  no — commanding Betty to back off, she took the microphone from the announcer’s hand.

She turned to face each side of the ring,  teasing every ounce of expectation out of the crowd. When the tension reached its climax, she lifted the mic to her lips. “Boy!”

The audience murmured in confusion.

She turned and stared straight at me. “You know who you are, laddie. Get up here. And bring that sign of yours.”

I was too shocked to move. Mom was pushing and nudging, but I couldn’t feel it. This was what I dreamed of but, now that it was happening, I couldn’t move.

“Come on, Jaden,” Mom yelled in my ear. “Go!”

She started lifting me up, over the barrier. I’m not much for sports, but still I’m a pretty strong kid, athletic even, but for some reason getting over the chest high wall was a struggle. As soon as I did, my knees buckled and I fell. In front of a sold-out arena, I fell flat on my butt!

“I’m waiting, boy, ” Boudicca beckoned from the ring over the laughter.

Getting back to my feet, Mom shoved my sign into my hand.  I started down the ramp, my stomach knotting like I was that kid — the one who climbed up the high-dive but was too chicken to jump off. The security guard Boudicca talked to before entering the ring took me by the elbow and hustled me along.

The closer I got to the ring, the more my confidence rose. This was my dream come true and I was determined. I wasn’t going to wimp out.

Without breaking stride, I climbed the steps and, worming my way between the middle and bottom rope, I was in the ring. I was standing in a pro-wrestling ring with thousands cheering me on, millions watching on their TVs at home.

“What is this crap?” Betty yelled.

Boudicca ignored her. With a coaxing sweep of her hand, she beckoned me to her. She was smiling, gentle and reassuring. Whatever fear I held inside vanished when I saw that smile. This was Boudicca, Warrior Queen of the Celts. She protected the ancient British Iceni tribe from the entire Roman Empire. She could protect anyone from anything. Surly, she would protect me. 

Holding her hand high, she calmed the crowd. In the silence her brogue rang clear. “I’ve seen a lot things in this business, but I’ve never, not once, seen anything like this lad’s sign.”

Boudicca looked down at me. “Show them.”

My face burned, but her tone demanded I do as she asked. I had to obey and lifted my sign over my head. The crowd roared and teased. Boudicca put her firm hand on my shoulder and guided me through a quarter turn.

Now that side of the arena was laughing at me.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Betty screamed.

I felt myself being turned again. And again. She left me facing the side of the ring from where, I knew, the main cameras broadcast the matches. The entire world was staring at me and my sign.

Boudicca,

Please be my

1st kiss.

Waving her arm to quiet the crowd, Boudicca asked, “What’s your name, my wee suitor?”

Betty grabbed the mic out of Boudicca’s hand. “I have no time for this … this … puppy love. I want to beat you senseless, win that belt, and be home in time for a celebration I won’t remember tomorrow!”

She dropped the mic to the canvas.

I’ve watched professional wrestling since before I would walk. Every heel-move? Every angle? All the tricks of showmanship? I studied them over and over. Without needing to think twice, I felt Jaden sink down, my own character rising to find me or, maybe, for the first time, I was finding him.

Laying aside my sign, picking up the mic, I knew who I was and here, in the ring, it wasn’t Jaden Prescott. Under my own power now, I repeated the quarter turn Boudicca guided me through asking, “Puppy love?”

The crowd tittered.

I turned again.

“Puppy Love?”

A roar ripped through the arena.

Turn.

I nodded my head, a self-satisfied smirk on my face. “Puppy Luv.”

The audience was frantic.

One more turn and I was facing the TV cameras again. “That’s my name! Puppy Luv.”

I spun to glare at Betty. Jabbing my finger in her direction I shouted, “Puppy Luv. Toughest kid in town!”

The crowd exploded.

Boudicca eased the microphone out of my hand. She was laughing, but her eyes were proud. “And just how old are you, Puppy Luv?”

I could talk to the crowd. I could yell at the terrifying Bruiser Betty. But this was Boudicca. “Thuh … thuh … thirteen,” I stammered into the mic.

“Thirteen? And never kissed?”

I couldn’t keep secrets. Not from her. My lips moved, but no one heard what I said.

“What was that?” Boudicca asked, tilting the mic back to me.

“It’s my super-power.”

She eyed me. “You’ve a super power? Go on then. Tell us.”

I looked down and made bashful shuffles with my feet. “I’m invisible to girls.”

There were a few awes from the crowd, but mostly I heard taunting guffaws. Even Boudicca had to turn away.

Regaining her composure, she faced me, staring deep into my eyes. “I see you, my little Puppy Luv.”

She dropped the mic and, clamping her hands over my ribs, just under my armpits, lifted me high over her head as easily as if I were a toddler. In a demonstration of raw power, she lowered me until her lips brushed mine in the softest of pecks.

I could tell I was being pressed high over her head again, but it felt like I floated there all on my own.

The audience went insane.

With an effortless shift of her hold, she carried me to the ropes and put me down outside the ring. Waving over the security guard who escorted me from my seat she said, “Set him up a chair at the announcer’s table.”

#

The match was over as soon as it  began. To no one’s surprise, least of all mine, Bruiser Betty lost in spectacular fashion. Boudicca’s arm was raised in victory by the referee, belt held high overhead. Resting her title across one of her massive shoulders, she summoned me back into the ring. Sitting me on her hip like a new-born, she handed me the belt to hoist up, turning so all sides of the arena could cheer for her. For us!

When she set me down, I darted over to the ropes and, sitting on the middle one, pushed with all my might to lift the top rope. Another tussle of my backwards cap was reward enough for my chivalry before she stepped through.

I escorted her down the runway towards backstage — or she escorted me back to Mom. Whichever! 

When we made it to where Mom was waiting, pride brimming in her eyes, I hesitated. Torn, I looked back into Boudicca’s face. Her smile was soft and patient, making it clear the choice was mine to make. Boudicca might have been my celebrity crush, but Mom was … well … Mom!

I lunged forward and threw my arms around Boudicca’s waist, pressing my tears into her, feeling my back being caressed. Pulling away I scampered back over the barrier and took my place at Mom’s side, once again Jaden, but never again invisible. Starting then and lasting forever and a day, part of me would always be Puppy Luv. The Toughest Kid in Town!