Make Anarchy Great Again
TitYou could hashtag a acronym for title of this… but it might get get confused with the ramblings of a man with possible dementia… or an intelligence that barely skims above fucking stupid.
Yep… we’re going there already. But let’s not get tied down with fucking labels. Fuck that shit. Scotty has never been someone that has filled a certain mold. Whether it be powerhouse or technician. Good guy or bad guy. Or in this case Republican or Democrat.
One label you can apply to him is beer nerd. He’s not a Ciceron. Or some crazy snob who will spend thirty minute describing the flavors he is pulling from a single beer after only a few bare sips.
But after facing Halitosis… another label you can apply is loser.
Knocked out of the World title tournament, another shot at Max Kael was lost and given to a rookie who Max may likely destroy on his way to the finals. Missed is a matches between two Hall of Famers that would spike the ratings for this week’s show and surly beat Mike Best’s sandbox over in OCW.
They are still open right? Mike hasn’t driven everyone out of the fed on Twitter?
Anyhow… losing to a rookie hit The Hardcore Artist hard. He didn’t focus enough last week and it cost him. The opposite of Zion who focused hard on Max… and just didn’t have what it takes to beat one of the best in HOW history. Max is a monster… and to be honest… Scotty would have had a HUGE uphill battle to beat him this week. So good lucky Hally… I hope you beat Max… but it’s probably not gonna happen.
So cue the comfort brewery… a place for Scotty to decompress from a shitty loss. One that he should have had. One that he lost. Not that Halitosis won. Or at least that is what he is telling himself to power through and get to the next match. To keep that illusion that he is in control and no one else had the power to sway the outcome of his matches.
Six Ten Brewing is just twelve short miles from the Yuengling Center and Scotty is saddled right up to the bar in the tap room and clutching a TPA which is their ten percent ABV Double IPA… which I say borders on the realm of Triple IPA… but we won’t get into too much beer nerding tonight.
“Like I said… I got sucked too much into Twitter and got distracted. It happens… it will happen again. But last week I paid a sharp ass price for it. I lost to a rookie… a masked rookie with stinky breath. Whatever. Mike lost to Adonis Smyth and that fucker is still ok. Maybe. One could argue there is a fuckton wrong with him… but we’ll save that for my OCW World Title shot.”
It’s now the only chance for us to every get one last Mike Best vs Scottywood match since Mike had to be a little bitch and get himself intentionally retired so he could take a job from his daddy pretending to have any power in HOW.
We all know Lee has ALL the fucking power here and anyone else is just fucking pretending. Trust me… I was Commish of HOW for how long? I know. Mike Best is just a puppet to his daddy now in HOW. Or he always was. Who the fuck knows or cares.
“Right now let’s focus on the man no one really saw getting this far. The man they had getting upset by Eric Dane. The man people bet their life on losing to Max Kael. I guess Zion saved a few lives last show. But he still lost to Mike… just like he will lose to another Hall of Famers. I know I have stood in Zion’s corner in a couple of beefs… because no one else will. And the man deserves fucking credit for what he has done here in HOW. eMpire might shit on him daily… but fuck them. Darin Zion is a force that many,,, including Mike and his Twitter brigade should fear. Catch that fucker on the right night and he will swipe the HOW World, ICON or OCW World Title from any of you fuckers.”
Taking a few sips of his quote… unquote Double IPA, Scotty just stares at the camera next to him at the bar. Because at this time of day… who else is at the brewery. Let me give you a hint… not anyone you wanna have a conversation with. Maybe you don’t wanna have a conversation with Scotty cause he has dreads that may “smell” not so good and look like they are soaked in blood of his fucking victims.
“I don’t give a fuck if I stood up for you Zion. I don’t care how hard you are trying to be the saviour of HOW and want to be that hero that no one is looking for here in the land of High Octane. I am going to dissect you and spray you’re blood across the HOW canvas in a way that is gonna give Jackson Pollock’s corpse a fucking hard-on.”
Sipping on his beer, you can tell the bartender heard that last comment and rasied her eyebrow a bit… but she is still hoping that Scotty is gonna leave her some kind of tip other than his phone number… like twenty-five percent of the docuhe-fuckers do who visit the brewery with their fucking bros just looking for chicks and not for quality craft beer.
“To be honest, this shit has been harder to get back into then I thought it would be. This is a different world then it was in 2016 when we closed the doors on HOW. We are all in new places and to think that the machine will work the same is a delusion.”
Scotty downs the rest of his beer as the bartender has a new one ready. A 6.5 percent classic english style porter that goes simply by the name Porter. Scotty takes his new glass and downs a tastes as he nods his head and takes a deep breathe before carrying on.
“I have no idea where the next few months will take me. I know I don’t plan on giving up. No matter the rust that has formed after years of beer drinking and life changing shit. But I promise I want to make this Anarchy great again…. No matter what it takes. Broken bodies and souls… blood and more blood… sweat and tears….fuck it… I don’t care. I’ll hold another title here on HOTv… whether it be from HOW or the cold dead, defeated hands of Mike Bets in OCW. I am not going to give up on this shit. Maybe it takes a bunch of kicks in the ass. I know I’m a stubborn fucker.”
That is a fucking understatement. He is beyond fucking stubborn.
“Zion, let the best man win… which is of course me. Because I am a man and you are just a child. Wishing for someone’s… anyone’s approval in the HOW universe. While I could fucking care less what anyone thinks about me. That is how I have survived for years in HOW. It’s been a fucking battle. Like battling with a dragon on my t-shirt. But I have surved all that shit and am still here. Trust me… I’ve had it way worse than you have and that is why I am coming out of Refueled with a win… while you wonder how u lost to the man with the best fucking hair in HOW.
THE BEST FUCKING HAIR….
He will be sending a bill out for that missing dread. That shit is insured cause it’s fucking ICONIC here in HOW.
“So cheers Zion to another loss… this time to a Hall of Famer who has some actual balls and doesn’t just fall in line behind the Mike Best human centipede that he is forming across HOW and OCW. I think Cecil’s asshole is open if someone else watch to latch onto that…. Shit. Think it goes Mike… Max… Cecil…. Maybe Eridc Dane or Lindsey Troy are already latched on though. Sorry Lee… she is Mike’s already. Would you kill your son for her? I think he would.”
With his new beer, Scotty tries to push the cameras away, looking to jus enjoy his beer in peace and not have to rant about the multitude of fucktards who are trying to pry their way into the focus of The Hardcore Artist as they try to pull themselves out of the hell that is whatever shitty fucking fed that can’t even afford a real photographer… so they just steal pcis off Google of someone that “looks” like their pathetic fucking ass.