Scott Stevens, you can pretend to be the man, and act like all of those accolades that you’ve received in HOW really mean something. But the truth of the matter is, they mean jack-shit. Since you’ve been in HOW, you may have won every active title there is, but none of that can erase the fact that you have been humiliated time and time again. You seem to be owning the moniker of “Lonesome Loser” these days, and that is absolutely ridiculous. It’s atrocious, really. I mean, what kind of man owns some shit like that? Trying to turn an insult around and pretend like it doesn’t bother you, really doesn’t suit you. You’re supposed to be this menacing, maniacal, cerebral kind of guy…but in reality you’re a fucking puppy-dog. You’re sour and upset at the fact that anyone can open up their little device, type into their screen, and run their fuckin’ mouth on your sorry ass all day long. And quite frankly, there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it. Worst part is, you don’t even try to do anything about it. Don’t try and tell anyone otherwise, it’s the fucking truth. You try to slide by the fact that you have had a blood soaked tampon shoved down your throat and ask the question about why people always bring that shit up. Well, Stevens, the reason that people keep bringing that shit up, is because it fucking happened, that’s why. Never before has some shit like that happened to someone in professional wrestling. Not to anyone that I’ve ever heard of anyway. Not only has something like that never happened before in this, or any lifetime to anyone I’ve heard of, but I’m pretty sure if that shit had happened to anyone else, they wouldn’t stick around to live through the aftermath of it. So, I guess in that sense Scott Stevens, you are a legend and you are hall of fame worth. But I mean, really? Who the fuck would want to go into a wrestling match, week in and week out, and listen to people relive that incident over and over? Not this guy and not Steven Solex. And don’t get it twisted, Stevens, it’s not because you’re a bigger or better man than Steven, it’s just because you can’t find a way to make shit work anywhere else and you appear to be a gluten for that sort of punishment. But, maybe that’s the kind of shit that gets your rocks off, Stevens. Maybe you’re the kind of guy that loves it when people bring up embarrassing shit about you. But, then again, what the fuck would I know? I can’t understand or begin to put myself in the shoes of someone like you, and neither can Steven Solex. Why? Because we simply aren’t those kind of men. We’re men of pride and accomplishments, and while you may have some accomplishments, you damn sure are not a proud man, and it’s written all over your sorry ass face and it’s told throughout the story of your pathetic career.
All of this should go without saying though, Scott. It’s right there in front of everyone’s face, and if there was ever a book written about your life, it damn sure wouldn’t be called “The Life of a Champion.” We all know that book would be titled, “The Life of a Lonesome Loser.” That’s just a damn shame, really. Not because you deserve any differently, but because you allowed yourself to be subjected to the treatment that you’ve gotten and you didn’t do a fucking thing about it. It’s sad, really.
And with all of this said, you truly are a Lonesome Loser in the eyes of Steven Solex and everyone else in HOW. Steven Solex beaten you on numerous occasions and without him vacating a championship, you would have never amounted to anything. Yes, I will keep reminding you of these simple facts because that’s exactly what they are…facts. Without Steven Solex, you really would be nothing in the world of professional wrestling. Without Steven Solex, HOW would have never even paid one iota of attention to Legacy Pro Wrestling, and without that you would be nothing. You would have simply faded off into obscurity with LPW. You can try to justify your career in HOW by naming off some other…fuck it, I’ll say it: “Fisher Price Feds,” that you’ve wrestled in and how that would have eventually gotten you to HOW, but we both know that shits not true. You can also claim to have had the better career in HOW, but the truth is…that career never, EVER, happens without Steven Solex. Steven Solex is the reason for your successes, and you fucking know it. That’s why you can’t stand him, and that’s why this match has to happen. That’s why Steven Solex will prove once and for all, that Scott Stevens is nothing without him. Steven Solex is going to show you and the whole world that not only is he a number one Dad, he’s your number one Dad. Steven Solex will prove, ironically enough, that he is in fact ICONIC.
Now, cue the fucking shitty 50’s music and open this fucking scene, let’s get started. As per the usual, which I must admit is starting to grow on me just a tad, the music plays as the front of the Solex home is shown on screen. The words “Filmed in Front of a Live Studio Audience” are shown on the bottom third of the screen quickly, before fading out. The scene quickly transitions in to the living room of the house. As you’ve come to expect, this house is not from this fucking century, and it’s painfully obvious that this is the television set of some 1950’s television show. But nonetheless, here we are. Steven Solex, just like last time, is shown sitting on the couch. This time, however, he’s got the television remote, or “clicker” as he would call it, in his hand. The chatter over the television set are the unmistakable voices of Benny Newell and Joe Hoffman. Well, at least the unmistakable voice of Benny Newell, Joe Hoffman is about replaceable as they come if you ask me. But that’s neither here nor there. ANYWAY, Steven is rapidly pressing buttons on the remote control, rewinding and fast forwarding the show on the television. Do I really have to tell you that this remote control is ultra-fucking-bulky, and looks like it’s from the 1950s? Or are we all just going to live with the fact that Steven Solex is living in a world that no longer exists and we are just going to have to fucking deal with it at this point? Well fuckin-eh, live with it we shall.
“This is pointless,” Steven says to himself obviously frustrated. He drops the remote down on the couch cushion. The audio is still heard playing on the television, as Steven Solex gets up from the couch and walks into the kitchen.
Steven’s wife Karen is in the kitchen, and no…before you ask, she’s not barefooted and pregnant, we haven’t gotten that stereotypical quite yet. However, like any good 1950s wife, she is cooking dinner for the family, and wearing an apron. Her dark brown hair is perfectly ironed flat, yet pulled back into a bun, secured with a chopstick. Steven, liking what he sees, pull up behind his wife and grabs her by the waist, hugging her tightly.
“You know, Karen. This match with Scott Stevens, it perplexes me. I mean, I don’t even know why we’re having this match, I’ve proven everything I need to against this man, on a number of occasions,” Steven says, obviously leaving out the fact that he bludgeoned Scott Stevens only three weeks ago with a rusty pipe, and presumably left the “Scorpion” for dead.
“Oh, honey,” she whispers back. “You can beat that ragamuffin. I know it, and you know it.”
“I know, sweetheart. But, it’s just not right. I don’t want to hurt the man, I just want to do right by you and the children,” Steven begins. “I know that he came to this house, and he stole a moment from my son and I, but I can’t find the motivation to beat this man senseless. I just don’t know that I dislike him enough to do so. He’s a decent man.” No he’s not. Steven doesn’t even believe the shit that’s coming out of his own mouth, he’s only trying to conjure up a good enough reason to beat the holy hell out of Scott Stevens, he just hasn’t done it yet.
“But, Steven…what about all of the nasty things he’s done? The stuff he’s said? And I know, good and well, that when he sent Jebidiah down the road on the bicycle, it hurt you deep.”
Steven hugs his wife tightly, pushing the air out of her lungs.
“I’m sorry, Steven. I wasn’t here. I was bringing out neighbor Teddy a cup of sugar. She was baking a cake, and I just missed it.”
Steven loosens his hug a bit, and kisses his wife on the neck.
“Daddy!” Jebidiahs voice echoes into the kitchen from the living room. “What is this!?” Jebidiah’s voice is full of panic and distress. Steven releases his wife and both of them go running to the living room. As they bust into the living room, they see what all of the commotion is about. They see it, on their 19 inch, black and tube television set.
“Oh, dear God no!” Steven shouts as he runs toward the couch and attempts to wrestle the remote control away from his wife. The remote falls to the ground and rolls out of reach. Like a crazy person, Steven scrambled for the remote control. But he’s too late, and Jebidiah lets out a screech that can be heard five houses over before burying his face in a couch pillow.
“Make it stop, Daddy! Make it stop!”
The crowd is in disbelief, and remains silent.
It’s happened, Scott Stevens just took the bloody tampon down the throat, and the Jebidiah has been forever traumatized.
“What was that Daddy? What did she do to him?” Jebidiah asks, muffled behind a pillow and the tone of a crying infant.
A small child in the crowd is heard crying as well. Who the fuck brings child to this shit?
Steven scrambles to the remote and attempts to click the VCR – yes, a fucking VCR – to stop, but the batteries have fallen out of the remote. Jebidiah removes the pillow from his face, and reveals tears flowing down his face which is now tinted a bit green as he holds back the urge to vomit all over the place.
“Why was it bloody?” Jebidiah wonders, hiccupping his little brains out. Steven finally gives up on the remote, runs to the power cord and yanks it from the power outlet.
The crowd is mortified with all that has transpired. Some boo, some cheer…no one in attendance really knows what to do.
“Go to your room, Jebidiah.” The little boy runs from the room and up the stairs as Steven stares down at the floor in disgust. He can’t believe that his son just watched what he did, but maybe Steven should be a more attentive and better prepared parent instead of just leaving some x-rated shit playing on the television when he leaves the room.
Scott Stevens has done it again; he’s ruined the Solex family. And this time, he wasn’t teaching Steven’s little son Jebidiah how to ride a bike, he was poisoning his young mind with his disgusting behavior in a wrestling ring. What a sack of shit. You know, the more this goes on with Scott Stevens, the more I’m starting to realize what a great man Steven Solex is…and that, for me, is hard to believe.
“Karen, I can’t do it anymore. I can’t lie to myself. I can’t keep trying to convince myself that Scott Stevens is a good man, I just can’t.”
The crowd applauds as if Steven just said some profound fucking shit, but as per the usual…nothing he said made any sense whatsoever.
“But, Steven,” Karen says, trying to reason with the wholesome father. “Scott Stevens didn’t do that, someone did it to him.”
The crowd “oo’s” as the tension in the room begins to rise.
“But, Karen. We’re talking about a full-grown man here, he is responsible for the things that he does and he’s responsible for the things that happen to him. It’s just…it’s science Karen.” Okay, apparently a man being responsible for getting a fucking tampon shoved down his throat is science, according to Steven Solex.
“Steven, we have to think of the children here. I understand what you are saying, and you have to give this one your all. What kind of man would little Jebidiah think you are if you take it easy on this slack-bettle?” She’s making up words, what the fuck is a slack-bettle? And once again, I’m back on the “fuck the Solex’s” bandwagon.
“Karen, we don’t say bad words, we don’t hurt people, and we take care of our own. We worshop the Lord, and pay our taxes. I’ll be gosh-darned if Scott Stevens gets a win over me, it’s just not going to happen.” Steven looks camera side, “It’s never happened before, why would it happen now.” Steven turns back to his wife, “I’ll beat that croft-bugglehead Karen, I’ll do it for you and little Jebidiah.” Croft-bugglehead? What in the actual fuck is a croft-bugglehead? These are made up words, I have no other explanation.
The crowd in attendance laughs. Apparently they know what a fucking croft-bugglehead is.
“Yes, Steven. You do that, but can you?” What kind of a fucking question is that for a woman to ask her husband? The supposed “man of the house” and provider of the family.
The crowd lets out a bunch of “oo’s” as Karen confronts her husband.
“Are you kidding me, Karen?” Steven says, before charging into his wife. He rushes her backward, forcing her to sit down on the couch. “I can beat Scott Stevens with one hand behind my back, and in fact. I may have done so before.” No, he hasn’t. But, whatever…this is Steven Solex we’re talking about, it never actually had to happen, Steven only has to believe that it did. Steven backs up from his wife and shouts out for his son, “Jebidiah!”
The little boy peaks his head over the railing at the top of the stairs. “Yes, sir?” The boy asks.
The crowd cheers as the boy appears back in the scene.
“Come down here, son,” he says. Jebidiah walks down the stairs slowly, and approaches his father. Steven drops to a knee and gets eye to eye with his son.
Cue the corny morality music.
“Jebidiah, I must apologize for what you saw on the television. That’s my fault, I shouldn’t have left that program on.”
Some members of the crowd applause, but most of them stay silent.
“It’s okay, Daddy.”
The crowd lets out an “awe,” as the scene begins to get a bit mushy.
“No, son. It’s not. I won’t, however, take responsibilities for the actions of that man that you saw.”
The crowd lets out an applause in agreeance with Steven.
“But, Daddy. The woman…”
The crowd begins to sound restless, as the question from the boy begins.
“Son, let’s not get into the semantics of the situation. He’s a bad person, and he’s no good.” Aren’t those two things one in the same? “I’m going to take care of this, son. I’m going to make sure that you never have to see that bad man again. I’m going to make sure that he never doesn’t these types of shenanigans on television ever again. This type of behavior cannot be viewed by children or your age, and any self-respecting adult would never watch a person do that kind of thing.”
“But, Daddy…aren’t you a part of the HO…”
The crowd collectively lets out an “oo”.
“Son, it will never happen again. I promise you. I am going to take care of this Lonesome Loser once and for all.”
“Daddy, what’s a fisher price fed?”
The crowd laughs.
“Oh, son. You wouldn’t understand, but I’ll do my best to explain it to you.” Steven places his hand on his son’s shoulder as the bullshit morality music kicks back up.
“See, there is this excuse that guy’s like Scott Steven’s make when they know that they’ve been beaten. People like Scotty try to dismantle the past, and make light of things that threaten them. So, Scott Stevens…even though he was a part of the same company that your father was, tries to belittle said company by calling it ‘fisher price.’ This isn’t because it’s true son, it’s because it’s the only thing that he can come up with to try and tarnish your father’s legacy. If the place was a ‘fisher price fed,’ wouldn’t Scott Stevens have destroyed everyone that ever worked there, been undefeated and wouldn’t he have been the all-time world champion? That’s what that kind of insult would make you think, but son…I assure you, that was not the case. Scott Steven’s wasn’t even the best guy in this so called ‘fisher price fed,’ your old-man was. In fact, I mopped the floor with that ne’er-do-well on a number of occasions. And now, son, he’s just sad and upset at the fact that the past is coming back to get him once more. So, don’t you worry little man. You’re pop is going to take care of this unfinished business with Scott Stevens, and you’ll never have to hear that bad man’s name again.”
The crowd in attendance claps as the scene fades to black.
Look, Steven Solex is trying to be a good father here. Don’t take his kindness for weakness. He’s not the type of guy to take lightly, and Scott Stevens will come to realize that at ICONIC. This is a match that Steven Solex has to win, and both men know it. The only difference here is that Scott Stevens seems to be completely preoccupied with his new position as…what was it? Historian? Secretary? What the fuck was it? I seriously can’t remember. Whatever it was, I’m sure it was tantamount to being a bitch behind a keyboard who will produce a bunch of bullshit that no one gives two shits about, and unfortunately for Scott Stevens, that’s the perfect job for him. This way, Scott Stevens never has to step into a wrestling ring again, and this prevents him from being embarrassed over and over again. So, Scott Stevens…go be the historian or whatever the fuck, and leave the wrestling to the people who actually have a shot at competing in 2020. I’m almost one-hundred-percent positive that your sorry ass doesn’t even end up in a group at the Lee Best Invitational. So do yourself that favor of taking a desk job and take a sabbatical from wrestling, and maybe you can erase the legacy that you’ve built in the wrestling ring and replace it with something that actually fucking means something. The choice is yours Scott, just don’t leave it in the hands of Steven Solex.