Thursday, November 18th, 2021
If any of you for a moment thought that The Hardcore Artist wasn’t going to find his way to a pub in Ireland before the biggest match of his career… then you are a fucking idiot. Except this time, instead of sitting alone and downing pint after pint of Guinness, Scotty has a drinking buddy, partner… or as some idiots think, wife. Bobbinette Carey. She is wearing a shirt with the Carey crest across it. Yes, it’s really a thing apparently. Sitting alongside Scotty, she is helping him calm the nerves of the last ever chance he will get at the HOW World Title. The last chance he should ever get fighting against Mike Best.
So of course the bartender brings the two over some fresh pints of Guinness. Scotty smiles and nods at the man while Carey stares at the black stout and wrinkles her nose and squishes her face up at the beer.
“Guinness Scooter? Can we get any more cliché, like seriously?” Asks Carey, still just staring at the glass while Scotty picks his up and takes a healthy drink.
“You’re half Irish Carey, that side more than anyone should understand the consequences of dissing Guinness in Ireland.” Sorta warns Carey as he takes a look around the pub, hoping no one else heard that.
“Both my sides understand that just fine Scooter, but you couldn’t have ordered me a Jameson instead?” Fires back Carey as she still just stares at the drink.
“Like you said, I’m buying rounds before Refueled, so you get beer, I don’t pay for liquor. Plus I already agreed to come to a Pub that has your name on it.” Argues Scotty as he looks up at the giant sign above the bar that just says “CAREY” and he shakes his head.
“I know, isn’t it epic!?” Exclaims Carey as the excitement obviously is starting to come out.
“Then after we’re done here, we’re gonna go to Carey’s Castle!” She says clapping excitedly.
“It’s almost like it’s all Carey everywhere! I mean queen epicness in Carey Castle?” Almost squeals Carey in a high pitch, sounding like a giddy little school girl.
“Woah, where the fuck is that?” Scotty says, pausing mid drink as he looks over at Carey suspiciously. She looks away, scratching behind her ear avoiding eye contact.
“It’s just a short drive from here…” Mumbles Carey, still not trying to make eye contact with Scotty.
“I feel like your black side is defining short in this instance… how far away is it?” Again asks Scotty, in a more stern tone this time as he notices her blasé demeanor and knows his partner well enough to know it can’t be that simple.
“Like just under four hours.” Carey finally answers, making it sound like four hours isn’t a long drive and attempting to look innocent about the distance.
“Fuck no! You wanna go on an all day trip to see a fucking castle… when I have a World Title match coming up on Sunday? Come one Carey!” Nearly yells Scotty, which in most other pubs woulda garnered some looks… but Ireland, so it’s fairly normal.
“Okay…. maybe that wasn’t the best idea, but if you’re not gonna order me a Jameson, I will.” Concedes Carey with a sigh as she slides the Guinness over to Scotty who shrugs and happily takes a second pint of Guinness.
BUZZ BUZZZZZ BUZZ
“Fucking eh, again?” Questions Scotty certainly loud enough for Carey to notice and of course be curious enough to ask.
“Girlfriend?” She questions with a smirk on her face as Scotty shoots her back a look of death.
“No. It’s Jatt Starr. For some fucking reason that whack-job wants me to be his special guest for his dumbass Starrgazing with Jatt Starr show on Refueled this week.” his voice sounds annoyed at the request.
“Like before your big match with Mike Best?” she questions as she motions for the bartender “Jameson black barrel two doubles.” She insists as the bartender nods his head and leaves to get her drink. Scottywood looks at her for the order then continues on.
“Yeah… Seems everyone wants to distract me from this match.” Comments Scotty as he shoots a look back at Carey, taking a jab at her castle trip idea from just moments ago. She wrinkles her nose making a face at him for the comment.
“I have no clue, in what fucking world, he’d think I accept his invite and draw any of my attention from the only thing that matters to me in HOW right now. Beating Mike Best… and winning the HOW World Title.” Ponders Scotty, his eyes seeming to focus blindly ahead, as he gets lost in thought.
“That asshole, along with Sektor, they just ghosted my challenge to them to be in the LSD Title match at Rumble… and now he is almost begging you for an interview. Cause you’re a male of course.” the bartender sets down the two doubles of Jameson as she slides him her credit card.
“Oh yeah… I almost forgot about all that…” Replies Scotty as he snaps back from his thoughts and starts to smile, a plan is brewing in his head.
“How about I accept. I take Jatt up on his offer to do his stupid fucking show.” Smirks Scotty as Carey downs her first double and looks at the empty glass… then back at Scotty.
“Oh yeah?” Questions Carey cautiously.
“Yes… but I don’t show up. Instead, The Queen B comes out as the guest and Jatt has no way to duck you then.” He says painting a vivid idea that peaks Carey’s interest.
“You know what Scooter, every once in a while you have a brilliant idea.” She says downing her other double and motioning for a refill of both.
“All my ideas are brilliant Carey! You just still have some Mario brainwashing left in that head to understand.” Somewhat jokes Scotty as Carey looks like she is about to haul off and whack Scotty… but refrains, not wanting to risk anything before Scotty’s match.
“I’ll let that one go and show how forgiving I am, only cause you got a big match Sunday.” Shooting him a brief glare as the bartender clears her empty doubles replacing them with two more as we can see that her cheeks are already turning red.
“I’ll let Jatt know that I accept.” Chuckles Scotty as he quickly taps his fingers around on his phone and sends a text back to Jatt.
“Done… and speaking of all my brilliant ideas. I got another one for you.” Comments Scotty as he taps around on his phone in another text conversation while finishing up his first Guinness.
“What is it?” Again asking cautiously, but also intrigued as the bartender sets down two more glasses of Whiskey in front of Carey.
“Well as a token for not being dead after all… and taking out your plane and borrowing your credit card…” Starts Scotty, trying to put a positive spin on recent events before Carey cuts him off.
“Stealing… but go on.” Quickly correcting him as she squints her eyes back at Scotty.
“Sure… but where I’m going with this, is I contacted the man that started all this recent shit with you and Mario.” He says with a smile as he starts on his second Guinness.
“The actor we hired to pretend to be Mario?” Questions Carey as she raises an eyebrow.
“Yep, and he’ll be at Refueled this week.” Saying in a matter of fact tone as before taking another chug of his drink.
“You hired him again? You didn’t use my card again, did you?” Grills Carey, really hoping Scotty wouldn’t be so irresponsible once again.
“No… geez, seriously? No, I um, convinced him in a certain way… yeah, let’s say that.” Answers Scotty, choosing his words very carefully.
“I don’t wanna know all the details, do?” Now more carefully grills Carey, slowly lifts her third drink but doesn’t shoot it. Instead she sips it to maintain her faculties for whatever Scotty is about to tell her, since knowing him, it is never simple.
“I think it would be best for yourself… that you don’t. But he will be there at Refueled and will be yours to do whatever you want with… since you can’t lay hands on Mario until ICONIC.” Offers Scotty as Carey smiles as she downs her second… or well, fourth drink. Trying to catch up, Scotty grabs his pint and goes to down the half full glass of Guinness.
“Oh this is gonna be perfect Scoo-” Tries to claim Carey, but her statement is interrupted by a sudden noise startling her.
COUGH HACK COUGH COUGH
Now these sounds certainly garner the attention of a few locals who look over at The Hardcore Artist who is grabbing his throat.
“Are you choking on your beer?” Asks Carey, not really sure what to do as Scotty is hacking up his lungs. She questions weather to slap him on the back or try the heimlich maneuver as he continues.
“Should I call 911? Or whatever it is….” Again asks Carey as Scotty seems to be paying no attention to her until the coughing just seems to magically stop and he looks up chuckling at her.
“Nah, I’m just fucking with ya… I’m not choking… and I’m not gonna choke anytime soon.”
“Shit, Scooter! Not funny at all!” Yells Carey as this time she semi-lightly punches Scotty in the shoulder as he just continues to laugh.
“Oh it’s fucking hilarious, especially when people think that for some reason, I’m going to choke this week.”
“Well, to be honest, the history of you and these matches… You start off strong, but you can never seem to finish. You need to finish Mike this time, you need to finish just as strong as you start.” Enthusiastically rants Carey, trying to pump Scotty up.
“Yeah, The Choke Artist is the only thing no showing this week at Refueled. I’m not mailing anything in at the last minute before our match and making sure I show Mike and everyone in HOW that I am giving this match everything I fucking have. Pulling out all the stops, because if I can’t get the job done here… then there is nothing left to save anything for.” Explains Scotty as you can feel the passion boiling inside of him… you can tell that this match means literally everything to him.
“I think you could have made the point a bit more subtly than pretending to actually choke in a bar.” Suggest Carey as she sits back down at the bar and grabs her drink.
“Probably, but where is the fun in that?” Rhetorically asks Scotty as Carey just shakes her head.
“Ok, you’re four doubles of whiskey down already… one more round and then we actually get out of here.”
“Are you actually showing signs of drinking responsibly?” Shockingly questions Carey as she motions to the bartender for another round.
“It’s Mike Best… I’m not taking ANY fucking chances. So if that also means a few less drinks, I can survive for a few days. I’ll be right back, gonna hit the bathroom. Order me an IPA, I need some hops after those stouts.” Requests Scotty as he gets up from the bar stool he’s been occupying and heads his way back into the pub where the bathrooms are located. Meanwhile the bartender comes back over to double check on Carey’s order.
“Another double of Jameson and whatever IPA you have. Oh, and can I have that card back I gave you. These are all going on his tab.” Winks Carey at the bartender who just shrugs and nods his head agreeing with The Queen B who chuckles at her small bit of revenge on Scotty.
Yes Mike, this will be the end for us. The final chapter… all that cliche shit you can think of. I lose, then there is nothing left for me. This is everything I have and if it’s not good enough… then it never will be. It’s not like at my age I could ever imagine that I’ll get better than I am right now. It’s all downhill… that is just the reality of life. Plus we all know how stubborn I am and stuck in my ways. It took me how long to realize that the dreadlocks needed to go.
Oh and if I win… if I pull off what everyone except me and you thinks would be an upset. Well then we are still done. Because there is nothing that could top this. There is literally nothing left in the tank for yet another match between Scottywood and Mike Best. From what I hear, you’ve run out of shit to talk about me, so you have had to start giving me some form of compliments. Mike Best saying positive things… holy fuck… he must really be bone dry in the trash talk department.
And if you believe any of that, you’re also a fucking idiot. Mike Best could never run out of things to tear the absolute shit out of someone with. The man is an fucking master when it comes to verbally assassinating anyone he wants and burying them in a fucking hole so deep they’ll never dig themselves out of it.
So all this tells me is that Mike Best is hedging his bets. He actually thinks he might lose this match. There are big ass chips in his ironclad confidence and he wants to make sure he isn’t eating all his words when I beat him for that World Title.
That certainly wasn’t the case for the rest of the roster apparently though. Not a single nice word for any of them. I mean Mike just can’t help being Mike and tearing into somebody. Hey, it got a lot of other people listening to you this week… to see if their names graced your tongue in your own attempt to steal daddy’s Best Bets roster review. But remember Mike, you are not facing any of them this Sunday… you are facing me. So you better get focused… focused on me and me alone… because you are the only fucking thing I have been focused on all week.
No one and nothing else matters. I would give everything and anything else I have for this match… to win this match. So it is going to pay off… it has to pay off. It is going to finally be my moment to shine and it is going to be you Mike finally staring up at the starrs… sorry, stars. It is finally going to be me that is BEST.