Frankie Doesn’t Know

Frankie Doesn’t Know

Posted on May 24, 2023 at 4:00 pm by Scottywood

So I don’t know exactly how my last post went over with everyone.  I spoke from my heart about how I have been feeling over the past couple of months.  I don’t know if anyone really gives a fuck… or if it will piss my teammates off who are hoping to rely on me come War Games.  All I know right now is that I will be there… but what mental state I show up in… is a whole other question.

Motivation has always been a struggle for me.  I find it easier to binge useless videos online while drinking a beer than actually doing something productive.  Again, social media killing the fucking world.  It’s too easy to get sucked into fucking Facebook Reels.  They are soooo fucking dumb… but they are like trainwrecks you can’t look away from.  Too many distractions

Anyhow, maybe I said too much, maybe I’m making a few people wonder what the fuck is up with me.  Maybe I should have talked to a few people beforehand, and not blindside them.  Like my son, who I’ve already put through one hell of a fucking rollercoaster over the last year.

So as I sit here in my hotel here in… where the fuck am I?  Mexico?  Why the fuck did they pick Mexico to host… I guess that’s a decision I shoulda complained about like two months ago.  But fuck, they have shit beer in this country.  Like fuck Corona, everyone hates Corona, no one wants to get Corona, it makes you feel like shit and it tastes like piss.  The brewer who invented it should be fucking shot for unleashing that shit on the world.  It has literally ruined everything.  I need to find myself a beer mule and get some good shit down here.

Anyhow… another sign that shows how checked out I have been since my return.  Mexico though… why.  Whatever, I just need to get through this… get through War Games and see just where my head is at.  Or maybe where my body is.  I guess even my deal with the Devil might have come with some string attached.

Suddenly I hear my phone buzzing on the nightstand of my bed.  I mute the hockey game I’m watching as I roll over to get a look at the screen.

“Who the fuck is… of course it’s Frankie.” I say with a bit of a sigh as I grab the phone off the nightstand and swipe the screen to answer.

“What’s up Frankie?” I can barely get out before I can hear Frankie crying his brains out on the other side of the phone.

“You’re…. not gonna… leave me again, are you?!” Cries Frankie over the phone, nearly hyperventilating.

“Calm down Frankie.  Where did you get this from?  I’m not going anywhere.” I reply back over the sobbing that is continuing over the phone line.

“From your last post, you were talking about The Devil taking you back to Hell.” He blubbers out as I throw my head back, knowing that I may have said too much before.  I really need to put better limits on what content he’s able to watch.

“He’s all fucking talk Frankie, he isn’t gonna do shit.” I somewhat bluff to just get him to calm down.  I can only imagine he’s crying all over the apartment right now, making a fucking mess on the leather furniture.  Shit is gonna stain Frankie!

“Plus I’ve got all these people calling me, wondering about you, asking me if I know anything.” Adds Frankie as I cock my head to the side, a bit confused why anyone would be reaching out to him about how I am doing.

“What people?  People that have my fucking contact info and could just reach out to me directly.  Yeah, that seems about par for HOW, go talk behind someone’s back instead of just confronting them.  We really are a bunch of fucking high schoolers.” The disgust just dripping off my words as I wanna just toss my phone across the room.

“I told them I barely even talk to you these days.  That it seems like I barely even know you.  You aren’t two thousand and eight Scotty… but you aren’t the same Scotty that died in twenty twenty-two either.”

“Ok, you don’t need to lay a fucking guilt trip on me.  I know I suck, but just ignore those fuckers.  If anyone ever has any questions, they can come straight to me and not try to backdoor fucking info from my friends.  Ok, rant over.  You better now Frankie?” I ask as I take a couple deep breaths and calm myself down before taking a long drink of whatever beer they try and pass off as an IPA in Mexico.

“I will be in a couple minutes, my taxi is almost there.” Comments Frankie as he starts to regain his composure… but what the fuck did he just say?

“There?  As in here?  As in whatever fucking hotel I put on Bobbinette Carey’s tab to stay here in Mexico.” I ask, tossing in what may or may not be a joke about the hotel.  I’m sure this new personality of Carey’s won’t have an issue footing the bill for her recently back from the dead friend.  I mean for months that she played it off as if I was possessing her, so I think Nettie fucking owes me.

And if she has a problem, then I guess we will have a real fight between Scottywood and Bobbinette Carey.  Only if she wants to lose again of course.

“Yeah, I was worried so I got a flight to Mexico and now I am in a taxi to where you are staying.” He confirms as now I hurl not my phone but the near empty beer bottle across the room.  It shatters against a wall as my anger starts to spike.

Fucking eh Frankie… I am literally about to go to War with the entire HOW roster and possible The Fucking Devil… all in Mexico mind you, and you think it’s a great idea to swing by.  But I can’t say that to him, I just got him to stop crying and he’s gonna be here any minute.  I can’t deal with that in person, I’ll end up Game Misconducting him off the balcony and hoping there is a pool down below at this place.

“How did you even figure out where I was staying?  I didn’t even know until a day ago where I was going.” I question him back, a tad impressed with his ability to sleuth out my location.

“Majandra gave it to me after she noticed a charge on Carey’s accounts for the hotel.”

Well fuck, that backfired a bit on me, thanks Majandra… fucking karma I guess.  Shoulda know he didn’t actually do any sleuthing. 

“Oh… well wasn’t that nice of her to help you out.” I reply as I really just wanna rant on her for giving up my location.  Gonna have to have a serious talk with Carey about her kids.  Like how you never give up a bro’s location, you gotta cover for him!

“Yeah, she’s almost as nice as Livie, remember Livie, I still got a crush on Livie, I wonder if Majandra can get me back in contact with her.” Rambles Frankie as you can hear the car he is in come to a stop. A quick thank you to the driver can be heard as Frankie exits the vehicle.

“Let’s see how badly Carey tries to kill me once we step into that War Games cell.  Things could be a little awkward if ya try to reconnect with Livie right now.” I try to explain to Frankie as the last thing I need is to add fuel to the fire that is a very pissed off Carey.

“Ok, after War Games then!  I can wait the th…” He tries to finish, but he cuts himself off by knocking on the door of the hotel room.  I climb up off the bed and grab the door handle.  As soon as I crack it open…

“Scotty!!!” Yells Frankie as he latches on for a huge hug.

“…ree days until War Games is over to talk with her.” He continues with his conversation from mid word he stopped at.

“What… oh, sure we can wait until then.” I agree, not really having any idea what the fuck post War Games is going to be like.  Where my mind will be, where my fucking body will even be if The Devil actually goes all Repo Man on it.

“ foeSo did you make this trip useful and bring me some decent beer at least?  These Mexican IPAs taste like ass.” I question, hoping that at least one good thing can come from Frankie invading my War Games prep.

“I brought twenty-four cans of Other Half beer from NYC.  We just need to ice them down and then we can also build the LEGO Pac-Man set that I bought.  Then we can also watch some Star Wars, you have missed so much of The Madelorian, we gotta catch you up!” Rambles on Frankie as I gotta cut him the fuck off before I throw him through the fucking window.

“Let’s start with the ice, I’ll unpack the beer and LEGO set from your bag.  Here is a bucket to start filling up, then just dump it in the bathroom sink.  Old school trick I learned when I was younger.” I say as if I’m trying to impress someone with my college days drinking hacks for shitty hotel rooms that didn’t have mini fridges… or at least ones that’ll hold the sheer amount of beer cans we had in the room to drink through.

“Ok, sounds good!” Exclaims Frankie as he takes the bucket and makes his way out of the room, giving me one of the last moments of silence that I am going to have for a few days I feel. 

Fuck, add me some more wrenches into my War Games why don’t ya.  How the fuck am I supposed to get into a mind set for War when I’m building LEGO sets and watching Star Wars… ok, it does have the word War in it.

Mike Best is like Kylo Ren… a spoiled little child who… oh, sorry, I slipped back into HOFC mode there for a second.  Sorry Mike, we are still friends, right?  Carey is like… ok, let me be careful about this, cause she’s gonna be pissed if it’s not right.  Let go with… Lando Calrissian?

Waits for Carey start screaming cause I picked the only black character in the original movies.

I’m fucking kidding of course.  It’s definitely Koska Reeves.

Ok, she’s really gonna fucking kill me now.  I know, I have a fucking death wish and I am a shitty friend at times.  I’ll buy you a drink when we meet up after War Games for that shitty jab if ya don’t murder me… and I’ll give a serious answer.  One that I think will actually be a compliment.  How about Reva Sevander?  She was a bad ass in Obi-Wan.

But I gotta wrap this shit up, before I get into more trouble comparing HOWers to Star Wars characters.  Frankie is gonna be back soon and I’m gonna have to see if that twenty-four pack of beer is gonna last me even twenty-four hours.  My money is on not if I could place some HOB bets on that shit.

Maybe this is for the best though.  Who knows what will happen after War Games and it’ll bring some happiness to Frankie for at least the moment.  The kid deserves it… after all that I have put him through.  You all forget he lost an eye so that I could win a title.  I honestly can’t even remember which one, I think LSD, but that’s how shitty and self-centered I can be at times.

For now Frankie Doesn’t Know what is going on with me… I mean he heard it all sorta, but he really has no idea.  The first couple pages into that LEGO Pac-Man set instructions and he’ll be on cloud fucking nine.  Not ever even thinking a second about the shit that could go down.  Really jealous of his blissful ignorance at times.  Reminds me of those simpler times in life.

But the reality is War Games… It’s The Devil… It’s possibly losing my body if I don’t carry on with this quest in HOW.  I may have left Hell, but is what I came back to really that much better?