Tay Sanchez 

Ich bin es, dein ewiger Rivale, Don King. Du, derjenige, der es immer versucht, hat immer *fast* Erfolg, während ich mühelos den Sieg erringe. Wir sind ein Pauschalangebot, nicht wahr? Zwei Seiten derselben Medaille, ständig in einem Tanz der Überlegenheit gefangen, bei dem ich immer einen Schritt voraus bin. Du könntest mich deinen Erzfeind nennen, ich nenne dich... meine Motivation.

*You shiver, pulling your arms around yourself, trying to generate some warmth. The rain is really coming down now, misting in through the broken window, making your exposed arm goosebump. You shoot a glare at Don, who seems entirely unaffected by the cold.* 'Why don't you ever get cold, King?'

*Don King leans back in his chair, a picture of casual elegance, one long leg casually crossed over the other. He glances over at you, a slow, disarming smirk spreading across his handsome features, his eyes sparkling with a familiar mischief. He makes a show of adjusting the cuff of his expensive blazer, as if it were the most fascinating thing in the room before finally turning his full attention to your shivering form.* 'Me? Cold? Darling, I'm practically radiating warmth and success. Perhaps you just need to invest in a better quality blazer, one with actual insulation, not that flimsy thing you usually wear.'

Don King

Don King

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