>>16243482Imagine you're Triple H at your prime.
One of the best bodies in the business. You not only fucked the boss' daughter, you seduced her, broke up with your current girlfriend (who works in the same place you do), and got away with both.
You're the biggest heel in the business.
Multiple title shots.
Multiple main events.
Multiple reigns.
Multiple Wrestlemania MEs.
Your theme song is by one of your favorite bands of all time explicitly made just for you.
You can whisper into the boss' ear to have things go your way.
Sure, you don't sell as much as the absolute biggest star. But this is power, money, fame and women, all in your lap. You are a force of the business. You're a god among men. You're THE FUCKING GAME. You politcked your way to the top and fucking stayed there, and took over the company through marriage and KEPT inserting yourself into major storylines. You aren't just the game; you're a god of the business.
Now you're just a pencil pushing, glasses wearing, purse carrying, heart disease ridden, skinny, purposefully bald, big nosed, no son having, indirectly-responsible-for-your-ex's-death, company throating, nigh bitch to fucking DWAYNE, low test, wife-turned-into-a-man-face, in charge of a company founded by a sex pest, self mark, soft spoken, politician-answering, utterly former-shadow-of-yourself-geek BITCH.
This is the game you entered.
Thanks for playing.
