"Another beer, give me another!" We're kings, kings amongst men right now. The chants, the shouts-- everything still fresh in my mind. It made my blood rush, it made everything so... strong. Nothing can touch me, right now. It's an infamous sort of high, one that I don't have to use an actual drug to get the feeling. But in a lot of ways, the natural one is a lot worse. It can go on forever, and when you get knocked down it's hell- you can't ever get up until something big comes along again.

I get my beer, I knock it down- I order another. Me and Tommy knocking beers together in laughter. I scout the bar looking for some hot chick to pour my new beer on, when I see Benoit coming in. I laugh and wave to him, trying to get his attention- but he's a little distracted right now. Rightfully so, he's got some kinda candy on his arm. The man looks familiar- hell, if I wasn't shit faced at the moment, I'd probably know 'im.

"Benoit- Michaels! Get on over here!&" I hear Tommy yell, and I slung my arm over his shoulder. Damn Benoit, how's a messed up guy like him get a piece of that..? "What are you two doin' down here?!"

Chris gives up a missing tooth grin and shook his head. "Shawn was helpin' me find a make up gift for my wife. We decided to stop in the bar to grab something to eat. And don't look at me like that Tommy- Shawn and I aren't an item."

"Nope, I wouldn't be an item with this lunatic." He laughed-- I melted. I've never been this close to Shawn Michaels before. I guess it's true of what they say about him- he grabs your attention like no one else before ever had. Every move... Every damn laugh, hair flick, smile... Breath taking. It's times like these that I would want to say something good, something witty- but I'm far too drunk. This would be the start of the fall from the natural high. When you realize you can't do something it starts to snowball.

"How've you been Sandman?" Shawn smiled to me- god look at that smile. I'm a drunken bastard who reeks of cigarette smoke, and he smiled at me like I smelt like expensive cologne and was wearing a million dollar suit.

"Drunk." I muttered trying not to leer, but it was so hard. Shawn was wearin' a wife beater and some tight blue jeans with a big Texas shaped belt buckle. He's so sweet lookin'.

He laughed like I was joking, and I wish I was. "Well, if ya gotta puke, do it on Benoit."

I think I like him even more. "You wanna beer?" I offer him my can, sloshing some around sloppily.

"No no- you drink it..." Shawn pushed the can back to me, and I shrugged- more for me. He turns to talk to Tommy and Benoit some more, leaving me to watch his movements. They all seemed to be happening so slowly, like one fluid dance. Instead of chugging my beer, I sip it as if I were watching some play at a classy event I would never go to. If I wasn't so drunk maybe I could hit on, maybe he'd be impressed with me.

I finish the beer and get another. The more Shawn laughs and talks the more it hurts. Shawn's a dream I can never have. He's a perfect angel. Perfect angels don't like drunks who smell like smoke. He fingers his cross, plays with perfect strawberry blonde hair, touches the side of his hip were snug denim hugs his hip. Damn, I want to touch him there.

But I can't grab his hips- I can't lick him on his chest where those perky little nips were sticking up from the chilly rum soaked air of the bar. Hell... Who would want a fat drunk like me? Look at this gut. It's from all the stupid beer. Damn beer makes me fat, makes guys like Shawn untouchable.

"I don't think I've ever seen you with out someone to hang off of Shawn." Tommy grinned. Tommy's lucky- he's a road agent. He can be with Shawn aaaaaaaaaaaaaaany time he wants to- even though he's got a wife. He'd never cheat on Beulah though, loves her too much.

After the next beer I barely feel in control of myself- too much booze, falling too much to fight it anymore. When I get this bad, I can't do much of anything but sit back in my mind and watch the carnage. My body wanted Shawn, so that's what I went for. I grabbed him, I took my seventh beer and dumped it down his chest down his wife beater. I buried my face into his beer soaked chest, inhaling everything I could breathe in.

I heard him shout angrily, I felt them pulling me off of him, I saw nothing more.

-

"...."

I was hoping it had been a dream. No such luck. The hangover told me otherwise. I never got this drunk. Only when I was feeling great-- then would fall from grace from what ever reason. Last night it was because of Shawn Michaels and a revelation... I can't be the man I want to be- I can't have Shawn. Especially since I poured beer on him then continued to rub my face in it. Funny how you only remember select awful moments when you're drunk. That's definitely one that takes the cake out of them all.

Had to admit though, I probably would have done it sooner or later. Hey, I might even do it again.

But that's not going to get me any where. Molesting Shawn isn't the way to go. "Shawn... ...." My body's a little shot right about now. All I can do is look up at the ceiling and mutter one word at a time, while my brain thinks of all the stupid things I did.

"Try... again. Gotta try.... again."

Not a bad idea at all. There's a lot of things I gotta try again at.

Like... Well, maybe not stop drinking all together, but... more intelligently.

Oh, and I gotta get in shape again. No more beer belly.

And before I forget, I have to beat the shit out of JBL for his stupid commentary on the DVD. He thinks I should be looking for a treadmill? Maybe he should be looking for a liposuction clinic to suction the fat out his stomach, legs, and more importantly his big, fat head. Hell, if they give me the machine I'll do it myself. Oxygen tank my ass. I'm going to kick that man's ass, and shove a kendo stick so far up there that'll come out his mouth.

Then... Shawn. Gotta apologize... Then, I'll take him out. Maybe get to rub my face all over him with his consent this time. I grinned at the thought- though it hurt like a bitch. Add getting no more hangovers to that list.

-

It wasn't till about noon when I pulled myself out of bed and to the shower. Not until one was I able to throw on some clothes to go find a gym. Well, all the big workout freaks will be gone by now. More pick of the machines that way. That's when I saw him, Shawn Michaels. He must have been on the way back from the gym himself, all sweaty and looking good. We say nothing as we pass, only brief looks.

He gave me an annoyed look, but in his beautiful eyes I saw a glimmer of amusement, maybe even... interest. There might be hope for this yet. I grin and wag my eyebrows at him- he gives me a dirty look (both the angry AND the good kind of dirty).

You can only imagine how much that little exchange inspired me. We parted ways, leaving me hoping I could run into JBL on my way out too. Now that would REALLY get me ready to make a full recovery. But I highly doubt I'll be running into him on the way back from any gym- maybe I'll go there first, I could use some coffee. And if JBL happens to be in there- it'll just make my day even better.

FIN.