Chatham Memorial Arena
Chatham, Ontario, Canada
Inside the locker room of the Chatham Maroons, we can see a giant M on the carpet in the middle of the room. Lockers surround it with street clothes hung up in most as we see a clock in the corner, ticking it’s red LED lit digits down, now only at 4:33. Sitting in two of the stalls are HOW’s newest signings as announced by Scottywood on HOWrestling.com last week. Chet Logan and Tanner Blake, sitting there, each wearing a black hockey jersey with red trim and a large anarchy symbol on the front. They both hold hockey sticks, but they are sans the traditional barbed wire that sticks associated with The Hardcore Artist usually have.
Walking into the locker room is their mentor, the man that recruited them into this crazy but awesome shit show that is High Octane Wrestling. One of the most decorated wrestlers in HOW history, Hall of Famer, Scottywood. He’s also wearing a matching jersey and has in his hands his trademark barbed wire hockey stick.
“Tonight is finally your night. Two years of training, blood, sweat and hard work… all leading to this debut. Now I wish I could tell you that there was a packed house out there tonight. There might be only three hundred people in the arena tonight… nothing, absolutely nothing like what you will see next week at Refueled. But this is your home, this is where you guys cut your teeth, became best friends and molded yourselves into the men you are today… so this is where it should all start again.”
“Best Broooos Scottys!” Chimes in Chet as he stands up, facing Tanner and raises his hand.
“Yeah! Now let’s go boys! Crush it with the fans and then score some hometown takedowns.” Adds Tanner as he spring up and connects with the crispest high five ever seen.
“All the hometown takedowns bro.”
“Gonna get some hams a chattering here in Chatham bro.”
“Gonna be spearing my weapon in some hometown honey.”
“Hometown hockey heroes hucking some hip.
“All the hip we can take down bro.”
“So many takedowns we’ll be living in the sin bin.”
“Can’t wait to sin in her bin and leave two minutes later bro.”
“Leaving the bin and get back for more sin.”
Suddenly Scotty takes his hockey stick and slams it against one of the lockers, causing a loud clanging sound that quickly shuts the bros up… for the moment.
“You guys can nail all the Canadian tail you want after we get done with this. Just make sure you guys are ready for Refueled.” Interjects Scotty as he tries to get his guys to focus even if just for a moment. Seems like it would be an easy task… but kids these days… focus is the true f-word to them.
“Takedown the titties for the tasties title and then beat down the ankle benders for the tag titles bro!” Smiles Chet as he nods his head, already imaging… well probably taking down the titties… not winning the titles.
“Tag teaming tasties bro! Little two on one and bury the biscuits bar down. Then mix it up with a couple prince pansies and win that tilly title.” Agrees Tanner as he throws a couple punches in the air, knocking out the pretend air versions of Jace and Fuse.
“Dual threat bro! Titties and tillies!”
“Titties, tillies and titles bro!”
“Smashin’ that pussy and then smashin’ those pussies bro!”
“Jace is gonna be losing his batch in his tights just smellin’ all the pussy on us bro!”
“Gross dude! That’s a match penalty for creepy and reckless batching bro!”
“And Fuse will be just standin’ there in the corner jackin’ his joystick bro.”
“A little five on one.”
“Firing off some solo slappers that will never reach a clapper.”
Suddenly we see a man walk into the locker room with a clipboard in hand and a headset on which again cuts off the rambling rant of Chet and Tanner… for the moment.
“Two minutes left on the clock guys, can I have ya join me by the zamboni doors? We’ll get you right out there for your little promo thing to promote… is it a wrestling exhibition or something?” Questions the man who obviously never seen a pro wrestling show since he was twelve.
“It’s a fucking wrestling show… one that can actually sell out arenas ten times this size and is broadcast around the world.” Snaps back Scotty as he’s getting a bit of a bro-headache from Chet and Tanner zinging one liners back and forth at each other.
“Ok… ok… that’s cool dude. This is just a minor league junior hockey team. We’re not even on TV… and I only think the online streaming feed is even working today. Why come here to promote such an event though?”
“So these two can remember where they came from before they take down one of the biggest wrestlers in HOW right now… and Jace. So head on out with him boys, I’ll join ya in a few minutes before ya head out.”
“You got it Scotty, we can scope out any potential takedowns.” Nods Chet as he stands up and head for the door.
“Third row on the right of the zamboni doors, the two in the tight Maroons shirts, straight smoke shows. Might be girls of one of the players though.” Informs the man as Tanner jumps up and quickly trails Chet to head out.
“Sweet bro! And no worries, once they see some real hockey players, those puck bunnies will want us scoring in their goals.” Smirks Tanner in a creepy like way… but like only maybe like ten percent of full Jace creepiness.
“Thanks bro for the apple, what’s your name?” Asks Chet as he extends a high five to the man.
“Brandon.” He answers as he completes the high five and the three walk out of the locker room. That just leaves Scotty alone with his son, Frankie, who has been filming this less than inspirational locker room chat between the three men.
“It’s not too late to sign up for the tournament yourself and name me as your partner Scotty. You remember that we are undefeated together.” Suggests Frankie as he nods the camera a bit up and down with his head.
“You are never stepping back into an HOW ring Frankie… NEVER. Plus like I said before, I wanna focus on Bobbinette. I’ve held those title twice… and now it is time for these kids to carry on that legacy. I know, these kids aren’t the sharpest barbs on the wire, but fuck, if you’ve seen some of the videos of them fighting in Junior hockey… fuck. They can fucking scrap with the best of them and good luck to whoever underestimates them in that ring.” Dictates Scotty as you can feel the disappointment from Frankie… but he again nods his head, understanding just how dangerous Chet and Tanner can be.
“I know they are up against a wall here in their first match. They are fighting the newly crowned World Champion and a man who despite my constant shitting on, has won just about everything there is to win in HOW. It’s the utter definition of them having nothing to lose, because they have nothing here in HOW. So we will find out just how hungry these boys are. If they rather tap ass or make Jace tap out.” Questions Scotty, truly wondering for himself.
He scouted these kids and trained with them in secret for a year now, getting ready for just a moment like this.
“I mean though, thanks Mario for Presenting the PERFECT opportunity for my Plan… look at all those Ps… three… a triple of them… huh. I knew it was just a matter of time before you predictably again tried to push the HOW Tag Team division, so figure I have a puck in my back pocket to play. I just wonder if you’ll still be around by the time we crown a champion. Or maybe Jatt Starr can lay claim to his biggest achievement in HOW history, and keep you from flaking out of here quicker than dandruff on Jace’s chapped cock. Seriously dude, use some fucking lotion or give that shit a break. Is that why you wanted to team with Fuse? You thought you could get some joystick maintenance tips? Nah… you just needed him to carry your washed up ass though this tournament cause Tara has your number on fucking block.” Jabs Scotty as he nearly breaks down into laughter at his own dig at Jace.
“Snaps Scotty!” Laughs Frankie as he nearly drops his camera.
“The gloves have been dropped. These fuckers wanted to team with Mario and revive the fucking AoA… then they are gonna get my full fucking wrath. Not that it would have taken that for me to lay waste to fucking Jace. Prove that it was never him that made him as great as everyone thinks he was. Sure that’s why he wanted to join the AoA… so he can hide behind someone else now and cover up the many… many fucking flaws.” Laughs Scotty as he can feel the blood boiling under Jace’s creepy fucking skin.
“It’s Fuse that I can’t wrap my finger around though. I had a lot of respect for that man after our fight at ICONIC. He showed he has a fuck ton of potential… and he did not prove me wrong. His win at ICONIC this year… fuck man… that was awesome. But then he goes and shits all of that down the fucking crapper by joining the fucking AoA? What the serious fuck man?” Questions Scotty as he squeezes his legs together a bit, fearing the thought of having a chapped dick from overdriving himself with a sandpaper handy.
“I’m gonna believe it’s naiveness right now Fuse. You don’t know who is worth trusting in HOW. Two former World champion and Mario Maurako who’s great at pretending he was ever something worthwhile in HOW. You fucking SUCK Mario… get that through your fucking head. I can’t wait for my guys to fucking waste you and Jatt… the red headed step child tag team of the AoA. I mean how more lopsided could you make these teams? Guess it gives the AoA their best shot. Fuse and Jace… the A-Team… then you and Jatt.. the we know we are fucking losers team….” Smiles Scotty as he shakes his head, stunned that in 2022 we are even seeing a tag team of Mario Maurako and Jatt Starr that isn’t in some geriatric wing of an old folks home wrestling league.
Suddenly the horn sounds, meaning Scotty has has to get going for the introduction of 2-Man Advantage to the Chatham faithful… or just those with nothing better to do on a Friday night. He raises his hockey stick to the camera before he heads out of the locker room and over towards the zamboni doors where Chet and Tanner wait.