Apparently, everyone experiences an identity crisis eventually.

Some just get to it sooner than others. For me, it took just shy of twenty nine and a half years. It all started on an early morning train ride. I was on my way to work. As I stared aimlessly around the train, my eyes fixated on a portly fellow sitting, facing me, a few seats down the isle. It wasn't so much the person that I was fascinated with as it was his choice of reading material. It appeared to be some sort of fan zine for Mexican wrestling.

And just like that, it happened. Like tag team inside a schizophrenic's brain, I switched. No longer was I Steve on my way to my job in advertising. I was Brian, Brian Damage on my way to the title. While the mental transition was almost instant, the physical transformation happened with surprising brevity as well. All I really had to do was remove my blouse and fashion a mask. I began today what will ultimately be a long and tedious training schedule, but I figure if all goes according to plan, I should be fight-ready by Christmas.



NOTE: While the above story is partially fabricated, you have to admit, the picture is believable.