Posted on October 22, 2022 at 1:54 am by Scott Stevens

Late October is a wondrous time of year. Sure Halloween is around the corner, but most importantly we are in the beautiful city of San Francisco and the weather is absolutely immaculate. When October rolls around in HOW you know what time it is, and we host our annual HOW pay-per-view known as Rumble at the Rock live from Alcatraz Island. The battles that have taken place on The Rock the last fourteen years have been memorable has they have been brutal.

Solitary Confinement.

General Population.

Infirmary Matches.

Kitchen Matches.

Battle in the Mess Hall.


Electric Chair Matches.


Many bones have been broken and careers have been shortened, but it was always in the name of glory, whether personal or in the pursuit of a championship. Rumble at the Rock is one of those events outside of War Games that can set you apart from everyone else because on Alcatraz it is survival of the fittest and only the strong and battle tested survive that island.




Location: San Francisco, California: Fisherman’s Wharf
Date: October 18, 2022

As the scene opens up we are in the bay area of the city of San Francisco inside of Fisherman’s Warf. The sun is shining brightly in the clear blue sky and the area is packed with lots and lots of foot traffic visiting the Wharf’s various restaurants, stores, and tourist destinations. Looming in the background of this massive section of piers is Alcatraz Island. Normally, the island is shut down for the next two weeks as it will be home to the HOW wrestlers competing in matches, but this year is not normal. You see, there is no solitary confinement match so that means the EPU isn’t kidnapping people within thirty-six to send them off to Alcatraz to starve and be slowly driven insane by the four concrete walls they would call home until they are let out to fight for the right to become the world champion.

This year, we all know where we will be and what we have to do, and we can plan accordingly. This is what I have been doing since being in San Francisco for Chaos 13. I have been training and preparing just in case Scottywood was to actually return to High Octane Wrestling for his final match and the funny thing is he avoids the Chase Center, but sends an image through with a special message for me on the Alcatraz Welcome Sign.

How cute.

You see, as the Personal Advisor to GOD himself, I am a busy man. I don’t have time to drop everything and respond to Scottywood because he decided to show up for work finally. While he has been silent I have been in this city helping this company prepare for not just Scotty’s final match, but all the great matches that will be coming to you at the end of the month. It’s exhausting work, but being the Chosen One by HIM makes everything worth it at the end of the day. Knowing you had a hand in making this event feel special is what matters most. With lots of work comes a big appetite and when you’re a member of the House of Best or a GOD of HOW no one’s appetite is bigger.

Location: Hard Rock Cafe

As the image fades to inside the acclaimed restaurant, we see a platoon of EPU guards facing outward in a circle formation around a table and in the center of that table is the Demi-God of HOW, Scott Stevens. The Texan takes a final bite of his dessert which appears to be cheesecake and he leans back in his chair.


Scott says to himself as he appears to be stuffed from the plethora of food that litters the table. Scott pats his stomach with enjoyment as the waitress comes to the table, but is suddenly stopped by the EPU.

“Pat her down clean. With that idiot somewhere in the city he’ll try whatever it takes to get an advantage over me.”

Stevens orders and the EPU nod and they quickly place the waitress against the table and check her thoroughly. After a good five minutes, the waitress hands Scott the bill and he goes down the bill checking off the list of items.

“Ribs. Steak. Fajitas. Cheesecake.”

Stevens moves his finger down to the drinks.

“Old fashioned. Whiskey sour. Southern rock. Red Bull and vodka.”

Stevens seems satisfied  that everything appears correct on the tab and reaches into his 97 Red colored vest and procures a black, leather wallet with the stitching engraving in 97 Red lettering “Demi-God” and opens it. Stevens reaches inside and pulls out not just a credit card, but THE credit card of HOW, the Liberty Card. Scott slides the check and the card across the table to the waitress.

“Feel free to give yourself and extra 97 cent tip for any inconvenience my friends here may have caused you.”

Stevens informs the waitress behind his devilish smile as his signature frames glisten in the neon lights of the restaurant. The waitress disappears and after a few moments she returns and is stopped once more by the EPU who search her again. After another five minute delay Stevens is handed the check and the Hall of Famer jots down his John Hancock on the bill and stands up to leave. The Texan straightens out his attire before motioning to the EPU to lead the way to the exit. As they exit the restaurant there is a black SUV waiting for them.

“Where to now?”

The lead EPU guard asks and Stevens looks behind him and sees Alcatraz Island and he starts walking to the wall of the pier and the EPU quickly move in front of him to protect him as he walks over to a coin operated binocular station. The Demi-God snaps his fingers and an EPU member produces fifty cents and places it inside the machine as Scott turns it towards the island and finally sees the message that Scottywood sent him that apparently broke the HOW website.






The Texan sighs to himself as he lifts his head from the binoculars.

“So disappointing. I expected something more.”

Stevens stands upright and motions with his head to head back to the SUV when he suddenly stops by the sound of….


Scott reaches into his back pocket and clicks the screen of his iPhone 14 to read the text message from HIM.

“Back to the hotel. HE needs to see me.”

Stevens informs the EPU and they lead him back to the SUV and once inside the vehicle speeds down the street towards the hotel.


Stevens Welcome.

Was this ominous message the day after Chaos supposed to scare me or something?

Because if it was it didn’t do anything because at this point in time Scotty I barely give two shits about what you do leading up to our match because me just mentioning you right now is a courtesy because HE allows it. If it was my call I would’ve nixed this match and let you fade into the background like you have been doing since Dead or Alive.

You could’ve had your final match at Dead or Alive and rode off into the sunset as the victor in our historic feud, but you became greedy. You wanted more and look what that greed has cost you Scotty, everything.

You wanted this match Scott.

You begged for this match even.

However, you haven’t done anything to earn this match.

The only reason this match is happening at all isn’t because GOD is allowing it because of all the hard work you’ve done over the years. If it was based on your hard work he would’ve canceled it like he did with Jatt and Sektor. He is allowing it because I and I alone have kept this feud relevant and this is my reward for turning chicken shit into chicken salad. For the better part of half a year I have carried you to make your final days in HOW memorable and they have been memorable alright because you’ve dropped the fucking ball! You haven’t done a fucking thing to get the faithful to even care about you. Just because you are content with your past doesn’t mean I am Scotty. You see, our match at Dead or Alive was supposed to be biblical. Hardcore brothers dishing out pain and punishment until one of us was the only one standing and you couldn’t even do that right.

Dead or Alice came, and you were the better man that night. Your contract concluded, you went out with a bang, literally. You had the perfect ending to any wrestling career, but that wasn’t good enough. You could’ve left with your hand held high, but you wanted to come to Alcatraz to compete one last time even though you barely showed up for our last match. Scotty, not only have you become an embarrassment to HOW in the past six months, but you’ve become an embarrassment to yourself and Lee Best with your actions, or lack thereof.

You are a Hall of Famer.

You are a former multiple time champion across multiple different divisions.

You are the Hardcore Artist.

Lately, you’ve been nothing but dead weight.

Honestly, you’ve been dead weight for the better part of the last decade and if it wasn’t for me coming into HOW ten years ago you would’ve fizzled out a long time ago. You were supposed to become the replacement for Silent Witness just like Austin Reeves was supposed to replace Kostoff. Neither of those happened. The supposed replacements could never best the originals and you could never conquer the LSD legend. You tried your hand at HOFC and you did average at best. You have been trying to find your niche in HOW for years. You’ve been trying to find that perfect opponent that will compliment you and 2012 I arrived. For ten years we have brutalized each other to the point that most fans and wrestlers are sickened by the actions we have caused one another, but we are forever intertwined like GOD and Kostoff or like Mike and Max.

As much as I want to shed the dead weight of Scott Woodson I can’t until you are gone for good. While you still thought getting drunk and talking trash could still get the job done I had to hit rock bottom and be forced into retirement before I realized something had to change. I thought I was finally done with you back in 2019 when I retired you in the exact same match we are having once more three years later, but I’ve realized that we will never be full rid of each other until one of us is dead or permanently crippled in a way it would make it hard to return.

That is why in our match I am going to make sure you can’t return to this company to compete inside a ring ever again. I am going to drive eight inch iron spikes through both of your wrists like I have before. I will also remind you of your last retirement match when I drive another pair of eight inch spikes through your feet, but I’m not going to stop there. To ensure you never return I am going to hammer in a nail through the middle of each of your arms right until it comes out through your elbows. One wrong nick and you’ll end up with permanent nerve damage or worse, death. Why stop with just the arms when I can do the same to your knees as well.

For half a year I could’ve been focusing on leading The House of Best to new heights across all wrestling promotions.

You are the reason why the House of Best isn’t the MVW Men’s champion.

You are the reason why the House of Best isn’t the sVo champion.

You are the reason why the House of Best isn’t the PRIME Universal champion.

You are the reason why the House of Best isn’t the SHOOT world champion.

If I wasn’t distracted by trying to finalize the ending in the Book of Scottywood I could’ve been leading the Board in HIS name just like I was when HOW was invading and taking over OCW. You’ve cost HIM precious time, money, but more importantly bragging rights of our continued dominance over the Fisher Price competition. Enjoy sending not so scary messages through because you’re too scared to do it in person because at the end of the month the only thing that will be remembered about the legacy of Scott Woodson is that he was retired once more by The Demi-God of HOW, Scott Stevens in his own specialty match on his own island.

In the name of the Father. The Sons. And the HOly FC.

Praised be to Lee mother fucking Best!