A Hundred Wars With Myself

A Hundred Wars With Myself

Posted on June 17, 2022 at 10:28 pm by Scottywood

Well that was a disappointing as fuck War Games…

Why?  You won War Games!

My TEAM won War Games!

And you are on that team.

America and Tyler Won… They survived.  I didn’t.  In fact I was the first person eliminated.

Carey never even made it into the match.

So she doesn’t count then.  I finished last.

Fine then, think about it that way if you want.  The glass is half empty you pessimistic fuck.

Thank you, that’s all I’m fucking asking for.  I don’t need to be lying to myself anymore.  I think the time is almost here.

But he is nowhere near ready yet.  You need to hang on.  You need to be here for him.

I’ve got nothing left though.  I honestly just wanna lay down right now.  Whose smart fucking idea was it to book me the week after getting my ass kicked at War Games?  I’m not in my thirties anymore… I can’t just snap back and climb into that ring.  Is this the thanks I get for helping Tea Best win?  Never do a Best a favor, that is the lesson here.

You can’t look at this as some kind of chance at redemption?  At a chance to right the wrongs from War Games and redeem yourself?

Redeem myself for what?  I couldn’t even beat Mike Best in this era, what make you think I have any chance against an even younger and more energetic Best?  Or some beach ball headed punk like Stronk?

But you’re facing Azula… I mean that could be looked at as a gimmie win by some people.

By who?  I mean he beat me at War Games.  What makes him so easy?  Cause maybe Carey said it?  She couldn’t even beat Harrison for the LSD Title to get into War Games.  Plus she is about to get absolutely slaughtered by a returning Farthington.

Fucking eh you a positive as fuck today.  Why are you even talking about all this shit then?  Why don’t you just go to the bar and do what you do best, drink yourself into a fucking stupor and ruin everything in your fucking life.

Woah… a little too on the fucking nose there.  Can’t even sugarcoat it a little bit?  Geez….

Oh don’t try and turn this back on me now.  I tried to be positive and you just shit all over me.  Fuck off.

And you wonder why i fucking drink, you drive me to this, this is really all your fucking fault.

I am you!  We are the same person!  You are legitimately arguing with yourself… blaming yourself… fucking eh!

So what do you want me to do?  Want me to head back to New York City and train Ben?  I’m still a bloody fucking mess from War Games.  I’ve got bandages still soaked in blood from wounds that are not even heeled yet.  You think I can train someone and prep for a match against some fuck named Xander.  I mean who the fuck names their child Xander?


Who the fuck are you yelling at?  The fucking wall?  Calm the fuck down or just stop trying to be so fucking clever.

I’m fucking tired, I told you this already.  My mind slips closer and closer to a state of utter CHAOS that I feel it will never return from.

Chaos?  Really?  I said stop trying to be so fucking clever and just maybe focus on wrestling.  You don’t need some fancy training montage at your wannabe indy wrestling school.  Which isn’t fooling anyone.  You think a real indy wrestling school could ever afford to build an arena in fucking Manhattan?  You’re about as indy as Sam Adams is these days.

Whatever, is it too much to ask to just want to have something for after my career is done?  Someplace where I can pretend like I’m not totally washed up… but not humiliate myself in front of thousands of people each week?

You really think there will be anything left of you once your career is over?  Like you really think you’re not gonna die in that ring and get some kind of fairytale send off here in HOW?  Plus are you not already humiliating yourself in that ring?

I tried to admit that earlier and you wanted to be all optimistic.  Make up your fucking mind and either let me wallow in my fucking failures, or just keep fucking lying to me.  Either way I’m gonna show back up to Chicago, for the last Refueled… and Xander Azula is gonna step into the ring with one highly unstable fuck with a barbed wire hockey stick.

It’s not a hardcore match.

Did that matter when I faced Clay?  Maybe I’m starting to ascend to a new status.  It works for Kostoff… show up, kick ass and not give a fuck about the win or loss.  I’m going to take a pound of flesh from Xander and whether or not I win, I walk out of that ring with his blood on my hands.  How do you rationalize with that Xander?  What do you do when you know the man across from you in that ring doesn’t care if he wins or loses… he just wants your blood on his hands.  He just wants to rip a pound of flesh from your body.  He just wants to maim you.

Ok… that is not wrestling… that is just straight assault. 

And I have never claimed to actually be a wrestler.  I have less moves in my arsenal than Superman.  I literally wrap barbed wire around my arms and try and hit people in the neck with it.  I take pleasure in the fact I’ve stabbed people in the eye and have a slight bit of remorse still I didn’t take one of my best friends eyes at ICONIC.  I am not a wrestler… I am a sadist.

No… you’re…


You… I think… maybe?

You want me to train Ben to wrestle?  No.  I can’t.  I won’t.  But I will train him to love inflicting pain.  I will train him to find joy in watching blood flow from the bodies of his opponents.  I will train him to be the BEST sadist HOW has ever seen.  He may be Frankie’s son, but he will become the son I always wanted.

That’s some fucked up shit to say… what if Frankie ever hears…

You think I haven’t fucked him up enough already?  ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?  I can’t possible fuck that kid up anymore than I already did.  This is why I was never meant to have children.  You think I should ever be allowed to pass along the fucked up shit that is brewing inside my head?  But unless someone can stop me… I am going to pass it all onto Ben and create a new monster.  A better monster.  Scottywood’s Monster.

Cue the lighting bolt or something striking you now?  A shitty “It’s alive!” quote?

I don’t need to piece together a monster, Frankie and that crazy slut did that for me.  But I need to teach him.  He needs to learn.  Lesson one, dissecting Xander Azula.

I can only imagine the hard-on you got in high school when you tore apart your frog in Biology class.

That’s not normal?


Guess even I can still learn a few things.  But Ben… so much to learn.  Not that catch-wrestling bullshit, or how to reverse a thousand and one holds.  How to maim.  How to hurt.  How to HATE.

How to be Epic?

I will fucking murder you…

I AM YOU!  Plus I think you two need to talk.  You need to smooth things over after War Games.  Plus you each got your kids… or whatever that you are dealing with.  Maybe you can help each other…

MAIM!  We are going to maim Xander Azula.  Then we can talk about Carey…


Chicago, IL

Back in the states, where we can all once again forget about the horrific atrocities that are happening over in Ukraine… like Tyler Best surviving War Games.

He was on your fucking team!  He helped you say you won War Games!  Plus um… Russia?!?

Are you surprised I’m being fucking petty as fuck?  I mean do you think I’m over the baby oil incident against my grandson in that now closed, piece of shit, half-bit wannabe fisher-price fed?  No!  But he took a step forward to proving he’s legit.  Even if America got the final fall.  Even in daddy protected the fuck out of him…

No, we’re not going down that road alrea…

His father is the CEO!  His Grandfather is the founder of HOW.  What other road is there to fucking head down?  Sorry, I mean he is an incredibly hard working blue collar dude who has earned every inch of success he has gained in life.

There ya…

I’m fucking being sarcastic you gullible fuck!

Again, I am you!

You think I’m not aware of that?  I’ve been gullible for over a fucking decade here in HOW.  Thinking Lee Best is… some fucking GOD.

Aren’t we here in Chicago for some reason other than continuing the black hole bickering inside your own head?

Xander… Zander?  Axehammer?  Ex-ander The Shitty?  Are you really somehow shittier than my ex?  That is quite the accomplishment, don’t even think Mike can claim that shit.  I atleast got something out of him fucking me over in that World Title match.

What the fuck did you get?  A match with Bobbinette are ICONIC… or whatever the fuck you two called that bullshit crap you pulled over everyone.

Payback is gonna suck Xander… and trust me, HOW didn’t use up their whole supply of barbed wire on the War Games match…

You think America is short on barbed wire?  I’m pretty sure it’s apple pie and barbed wire as the most American made things…

There was a surplus you shit fucking cock!  And I am going to make sure that Xander fucking dies wrapped up in that shit during our match.  Fuck crucifixtions… I am going to mummify Xander in fucking barbed wire.

Finally we see Ben Reeves walk into the backstage area of The Best Arena… he’s a bit nervous as he walks up to a heavily bandaged Scottywood who is standing at a table with a white cloth over it.  The room is cold… and if Ben was a bit more astute, he’d think he was in a morgue.

“Have you ever ripped the skin off another human body?” Asks Scotty as Ben looks at him a bit confused.

“I mean I’ve only had one match, against Tyler Best… and he covered himself in baby oil.  It was a bit tough to even grab him… let alone tear the flesh off him.” Answers Ben as Scotty nods his head.

“Ok, that’s fair.  So today’s lesson… is to learn how… just as I will at Refueled to Xander… to rip the flesh off your opponent.” Smiles Scotty as he goes to pull back the white cloth on the table.

“You don’t have a corpse under there… do you?” Questions Ben, very fucking nervous as to the answer to his question.

“You think I hung onto the corpse of Austin Bishop for over two and a half years?  That would be… that would be pretty crazy.” Responds Scotty as he lets go of the white cloth and leaves it covering whatever is under it.

“I never mentioned any Austin Bishop.” Comments back Ben as his nervousness increases.

“Austin Bishop, Dick Fury… I honestly couldn’t tell the difference between the two… anyhow, we don’t need to use whatever is under this cloth to teach this lesson.  You can just watch me this week.  Watch what I do to Xander in that ring.  Watch me torture him.  Watch me do what I do best and that is rip apart the human body like chicken that has been in a crockpot all day.” Smiles Scotty as he licks his lips a bit thinking about slow cooked shredded chicken.

“Ok, I’ll continue to learn by watching you… but maybe some wrestling training too?  I can’t just rely on hardcore wrestling as a means to win matches.” Admits Ben as Scotty just stares at him for a moment… not understanding the sentence that came out of his mouth.

“I still have a lot to teach you…” Replies Scotty as he motions Ben to leave the room with him as they leave whatever was under the white cloth and head their way to somewhere else inside The Best Arena.