Withdrawl Before Entering

All we can see for a moment is Scottywood staring back at the camera.  To put things bluntly… he doesn’t seem to be in a very good mood. He looks pissed.  Super fucking pissed.

The camera cuts over and we now see Frankie staring at the camera.  He doesn’t look pissed… nor scared like he probably should with Scotty looking back at him like he was.  Instead there is an ignorant confidence to him… as if he really has no idea the danger he is in. He may be Scotty’s son… but I wouldn’t count on that to protect him at this moment with the Hardcore Artist.

“Are you fucking serious?  Why in the fuck sticks do you think I would go along with idea?” Asks Scotty to Frankie as the camera cuts to a shot of the two.  We can see better that they are sitting at a small table inside a hotel room… we’re gonna assume in Tampa after their long truck ride from Manhattan.

“You saw the rage during our trip down here.  Over a day without beer… you were near animal status.  Just imagine if you go the next three without a drink. Imagine the next level of rage you can unleash in that cell come War Games Scotty.” Proposes Frankie as you can see he’s starting to get a little nervous now as he is starting to realize what the fuck he is actually asking.

Ya… he’s asking Scotty not to drink.  If you believe in shit… pray to that fucker that Frankie makes it out of this alive.

Scotty just continues to stare at Frankie… with maybe a bit less anger now, as you can tell that he is actually debating all of this.  Somehow Frankie has actually made a decent fucking point. Go fucking figure about that. I mean it’s a dangerous fucking one… I certainly wouldn’t want to suggest to Scotty to stop drinking.

“I mean you’re thinking about killing me right now for just suggesting this so,…” Tries to add Frankie but Scotty cuts him off by raising his hand.  Saving his son from possibly digging himself into a deeper hole that he can not get out of or ruining his idea before Scotty has a chance to evaluate it.

“It’s… “ Pauses Scotty dragging out his thought and mentally torturing Frankie as to whether Scotty is gonna jump across the table and Game Misconduct him onto the floor.

“It’s not a terrible idea…” Admits Scotty as he takes a deep breathe cause he doesn’t even know if he can actually do this.  Not drink for 3 more days… I don’t think I he even remembers the last time he’s done that. A decade ago?

“I wanna strangle the fuck out of you already… and it’s only been twelve hours since I had a drink when we stopped… in some southern fuck stick city.  So you make… a good point.” Reluctantly admits Scotty as you can tell how much he wants a beer already just to get through this conversation.

“You already have nothing left to lose going into this match.  But you need that extra bit of rage that maybe you have been missing over the past four matches.  You want a beer… then you go and kick butt inside that cage and I’m sure Mike will buy you all the IPAs you can drink for the next month.” Suggest Frankie with no fucking truth behind his thought… but it’s can’t hurt to suggest.  I mean if it gets Mike that one percent of HOW… he might just pick up that tab.

“Plus maybe… just maybe it get you on your toes a bit more.  I mean I know beer fuels you most nights to do what you do… but maybe after all these years it’s softening you up?  Let’s see what a sober and beer hungry Scotty can do inside of War Games. Worse case… it’s another loss. Best case… we have HOW World Champion Scottywood once again.” Smiles Frankie as he plays up those glorious twenty-eight days where Scottywood was HOW World champion.  The best twenty-eight days of his career.  

Twenty-eight days that no one on Lee’s team has ever experienced.  Everyone on Team eMpire is a former World champion except Farthington… who is a three time ICON champion.  No one on Lee’s team has ever even held a title here in HOW. Not because they aren’t talented… fuck they are talented.  But they haven’t been in War Games. They haven’t been a champion here. They don’t know what it takes to be part of HOW and nothing in wrestling compares to High Octane Wrestling.

“I just want to see you at your best Scotty.  I want to see you have your War Games moment. I want to see Scottywood survive War Games and maybe even win the World Title.  And if three days sobriety is the price… I don’t think that is a tough price to pay. Even if you lose… it’s three days.” Argues Frankie as he is trying to tip the argument that he feels he is just about to win.

“Sure… just three days.” Retorts Scotty as he shakes his head and reaches for a moment for a beer that isn’t there.

“Can you get me a fucking NOS or something at least?” Snaps Scotty as  Frankie jumps up from his chair and over to the mini fridge where he pulls a NOS out and hands it to Scotty.  Cracking it open The Hardcore Artist downs a large sip as it may or may not help with his stress at the moment.

“Three days… when you drink on what many would say is a constant bias… is a fucking eternity.  It’s not as simple as what you… or many others will think it is. The pain… mentally and physically that I am in after some two decades of wrestling is not something that is easy to deal with.  Expensive surgeries when you have no money. We all know wrestlers have shit for a healthcare policies. When we getting that medicare for all shit? Or how about prescription medication that soon builds an immunity until you can’t legally keep up.  Or just legally buy enough booze to put you into a partial state of bliss that just gets you through the day until your next fucking drink.” Rants Scotty as he drinks again from his NOS can wishing on a bloody star that it was a fucking beer.

“You’re probably right though.  It wouldn’t be the worst thing to show up to War Games with a hint of fucking sobriety.  With an edge that a small withdrawal could give me to fight for that next beer. I’ll take Mike up on that offer… a month’s supply of beers.” Smiles Scotty for the first time tonight as he imagines drinking Mike into fucking debt.

“Well he actually never…” Stammers Frankie as he realizes Scoty may actually try to hold Mike to something he never fucking said.

“No… you said it Frankie, so I’m holding Mike to it.  That’s how shit works.” Counters Scotty as Frankie buries his head in his arms on the table, freaking out that Mike Best is going to come after him.  But if Scotty helps Mike win War Games… I really don’t think Mike is gonna give a fuck.

“But you got a fucking deal Frankie… no beer, no liquor, no alcohol period until after War Games.  Cause War Games shouldn’t be easy and sacrifices need to be made to win. No Beer for 3 days will fucking suck.  It might bring me to the brink of wanting to fucking live. That is the kind of grip that beer… that alcohol can have one someone that depends on it.  But if I can do it… if it can help me at War games. Well then we can cerebrate like it’s the end of fucking Prohibition. We can drown that World title in hoppy liquid gold and run a party that will make fucking Mardi Gras jealous.”

“If that helps you Scotty… ya, we’ll have that locker room stocked and when you come back a War Games champion…. We’ll celebrate like…” Tries to add Frankie before he is cut off by Scotty and a way better ending than Frankie coulda ever had.

“Like if Tampa had actually won the Stanley Cup like they should have?” Burns Scotty as he laughs at Tampa’s completely abysmal playoff performance this year after winning the President’s trophy.  Sorry Kostoff… but that shit was… fucking… bad.

“But nothing is gonna help until I have a beer in my hand again…” Adds Scotty as you can tell that he’s already beating himself up mentally over this decision.  Fuck it’s gonna be a long three weeks.

I mean especially for someone who has lost just about everything over the last month… to lose his alcohol for even three days. 

Three days…

Ok, he can do it.  Maybe? I don’t fucking know.  But if he can I’d hate to be the first, second, third, fourth or fifth entrant in that match for Lee’s team because I certainly ain’t fucking with an alcoholic whose been deprived their addicted gold.

“Might as well lock me in the fucking bathroom now… get a preview for what Rumble at the Rock will be like… since we all know Lee won’t pass up the chance to lock us all up in a fucking cell for a good week before a match.  Cause I really don’t know if I can do this Frankie. I want to… but can I?” Asks Scotty as he looks at the bathroom as Frankie is not actually sure if he’s serious or joking. Plus what if he forgets to let Scotty out and he misses the match.  This is already way too much responsibility for Frankie and he’s anxietying his face off in only twenty seconds.

“Find some fudging strength Scotty!” Shocking shouts Frankie as even Scotty is a bit taken aback by the force behind his words.  He even busted out the F-word of fudge. And that’s not a PG version to say the grand daddy of all swear words… he actually used fudge.  Plus why the fuck would we ever censor shit here on HOTv?

“You wanna turn things around?  Well it’s not going to be easy. Or that is what Star Wars has taught me.  It wasn’t easy for Luke to take down his father and the Empire… but he fought… he sacrificed… and he got it done.  So if Luke can do that… then you can go a few days without a beer and tear things up inside War Games. Get your payback on Flair.  Show up Dane. Kill all the memes on Twitter. You can do it all in one match and walk away as the HOW World champion if you just focus and do what me and you know you can do in that ring.  You have won the World Title before. You know that cell better than almost anyone. This is your match to win and despite what everyone says to make themselves feel better… I know you can win this thing.” Again supports Frankie with his unbridled optimism.  No matter what, Frankie will believe and he will believe until the final moment no matter how bad it looks. He has that hope that just can not be killed.

“FINE!  You want me to do the hard fucking thing?  Sure Dane and his merry men and women of immature meme posting fucks will have something childish to say about that.. Go ahead and make your wood jokes.  Post some fucking memes. But if you fucking insist Frankie… then challenge fucking accepted!” Yells Scotty as he gets up from the table and makes his way over to the mini fridge.

“Don’t you dare start cracking those open… this starts now.” Retorts Frankie as he tries to lay down some kind of order as if he could actually control his father.

Cause Scotty does indeed crack open the beers in the mini fridge… but instead of pounding them… he start drain pouring them down the sink right nearby.  Removing any temptation from the hotel bar… and killing a bit of his soul as he watches the beer flow down the drain and gone forever.  

“HOW is that for a fucking statement?!?” Yells Scotty as he’s on fucking edge… the exact edge that Frankie is looking for him to be on before getting into that War Games cell.  Now times that by three more days. Three more days of temptation that will be everywhere in a state that is probably fueled on beer, booze and every drug one could imagine. I mean how else does the words “Florida Man” make people fucking cringe?

“Thank you.” replies Frankie with a sigh of relief as he sinks back in his chair and despite Scotty’s escalated edginess… feels at ease somehow.  Cause pouring that beer down the sink showed he was serious… that he is actually willing to give this a try and that he actually can fucking do it.

“Only for you Frankie.  Only so we can fucking try and fight this this shit and get back to where we should be.  After all these years… you’ve hung with me… and I fucking owe it to you to give it a fucking try.  Win or lose… we gave it everything we had and after War Games… we’ll fucking see where we are and we’ll deal with it.  One match at a time… one fucking match… War Games.” Finishes Scotty as he crushes one of the empty cans in his hand and just tosses it against the wall of the hotel as he collapses on the bed… fucking spent emotionally.

It’s been a long fucking road from HOW closing… to returning… to War Games.  This is the payoff that everyone has been looking for since HOW announced it was coming back.  It is now hear and it is time to see who the fuck can rise to the top and claim one more War Games at their own victory and as all winners of war do… write their own history here in HOW.

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