Oh boy, it’s all over now.
The jig is up, folks.
You’re absolutely right, Brian.
There is a conspiracy, and you’re at the center of it.
They’re coming to get you, Hollywood.
I was at that meeting, too.
I was in the room where it happened.
A group of men dressed in fancy suits and ties, seated around a large conference table, speaking in hushed whispers of what they would do to screw over the great Brian Hollywood and tarnish his legacy.
One man in particular asked if they should piss the future Hall of Famer off by making sure he couldn’t advance to War Games.
The group agreed, saying he absolutely needed to lose to the big bad Jeffrey James Roberts, a man that Hollywood couldn’t beat to retain the HOTv Championship.
They then motioned for him to be put into a cage, and see how he fares against the lowly Xander Azula.
Not wanting to raise a stink, I simply nodded my head in acceptance.
With all orders of business concluded for the day, the group discussed plans for lunch.
We had sandwiches from the local deli.
I had capicola. It was delightful.
Oh, I’m sorry…does that sound crazy to you?
A little off the wall?
Does it seem like I totally made all of that up, just now?
You would be right, I did.
I don’t even like capicola.
There is no conspiracy, Brian…you’re just not that good these days.
This isn’t five years ago.
It’s not even two years ago.
It’s 2022, and your failures cannot be blamed on someone purposely screwing you over at every turn.
You couldn’t beat JJR to hold onto the HOTv title, and you couldn’t beat him to qualify for War Games.
That’s on you.
The fact you couldn’t work out how to beat Roberts is your own damn fault.
You don’t see me complaining about Lee Best coming back from the dead and making me swap teams for War Games, on what boils down to a whim.
So maybe pump the brakes on the conspiracy theories, Hollywood.
Because unlike you, I know how to roll with the punches.
And if we’re gonna dive into the statistics here, with you bringing up wins and losses like I’m supposed to be discouraged…my guy, you’ve got about the same track record as me.
What exactly are you trying to brag about?
Because it’s not adding up, despite your attempt to crunch numbers to explain why you might actually have a shot at winning this fight.
But, that’s the great thing about HOFC.
Once that cage door closes and the opening bell rings, all the worrying about conspiracies and how good or poorly we’ve been doing goes out the window.
All that remains is the desire to beat the living hell out of your opponent, and get your hand raised in victory.
That’s why I asked for this fight, Brian.
And that’s why you were the first man I wanted to face on this new path.
Not because I think you’re a pushover, because you’re right…you did beat me, once before.
The thing is, Hollywood, if we’re playing the numbers game…I’ve only lost twice in HOFC.
And neither of those losses were against you.
So, as you so eloquently put it, this is a different beast entirely.
And when I’m done, you’ll wish there was a conspiracy at hand.
You’ll wish it boiled down to the office, or some great fate above holding you down.
It’d be an easier pill to swallow than realizing you popped your mouth off one too many times.
‘Cause if Chris Kostoff was a “washed up has been,” what will that make you when I use your face to scrub the cage walls?
You wanna go around complaining about how you keep getting screwed, and you haven’t once accepted that you’ve lost your killer instinct.
I didn’t ask for a cakewalk, I demanded a fight.
So you’d better be as dangerous as you’re claiming, or all that “all bark and no bite” talk becomes null and void when I pull your fangs out.
Only one of us is walking out of that cage with his head held high.
Only one can come out of this with a renewed sense of purpose.
And it sure as hell isn’t gonna be Brian Hollywhine.
Am I the big, bad wolf now?
Maybe you’re onto something, Brian.
Maybe I’m the one about to blow this whole house down, with you still in it.