- Event: Chaos 031
“That hit the spot, but as I was saying.”
“You’re not THAT Mike Best anymore.”
“You’re retired. You handle the day-to-day business of HOW while Lee fights his illness. And even then, you fuck off early off the clock and leave someone else to do the work for you. Empty promises and half-baked ventures are in your DNA. I’ve made quite the career picking up the slack here in HOW whenever your ADHD ramps up.”
“You say that you bring up Twitter because I’m always on there. Motherfucker, I have a whole catalog of things I’ve done here in HOW for you to talk about. But that won’t achieve your goal of making me look bad. So, you go to social media and target my ‘likeability’ because that’s where you live, Micheal.”
“You focus on the minor details that have nothing to do with my ability to beat you. And hope the peanut gallery is loud enough to make you the winner by popular opinion.”
“These are the games that are played by a man that spends the majority of his time pushing a pencil and going through expense reports.”
“Am I supposed to be impressed? Am I supposed to be frightened because you shaved your head, tossed the tie, and decided to beat on Scott Stevens and Scotttywood?”
“Mike, you’re only around at the moment because that constant IV drip of praise and popularity started to run dry. Look around, no one talks about you anymore. When the last time outside of these five…”
“Wait, we’re doing five of these? That means this is a Championship match?!”
“Dear God, you’re going to try and pass off that useless Championship belt to me and hope that I carry it around. That I’ll put some prestige in it, drum up some interest in this LONG dead division. Only to swoop back in six months from now and slap your dick back down on the table.”
“HARD PASS.”
“As I was saying, outside of this, when is the last time someone mentioned your ten HOW World Championships? The Mike Best legacy is collecting dust and people have moved on. That’s why you’ve risen from obscurity to remind us all that you’re still important!”
“You’re like a stray dog that finds his way home and has to spray his scent on everything again to remind us that this is yours.”
“You can try to get your praise and adulation at my expense. But I don’t fear you, Michael. I don’t fear your little cage. You’re going to do what exactly? Knee me in the face? Knock me out first round?”
“And…?”
“You don’t think I’ve been kneed before? You don’t think that I haven’t lost a match before? I got stabbed multiple times in defense of the LSD Championship. I got stabbed in the eye by your Father for calling him on his bullshit and generally being me.”
“You’ve been kneeing Stevens for an eternity, he’s still walking, talking, and being a pain in our asses.”
“I think I’ll survive.”
“You’re not some HOFC world beater. You’re not even the same guy that won ten World Titles.”
“Hell, Joe Bergman touring Europe right now is more over than Mike Best: Ten-time HOW World Champion.”
“I don’t have to say mean things to hurt you, Mike. I just have to sit back and let the praise that keeps you going die down.”
“Clown me all you want, say whatever it is that you’ve been EXCITED to say now that you finally got this match. I’m going to focus on beating you in that cage. I don’t fit your and your Father’s mold, which is why you have to ‘whip me into shape’ for War Games.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I’d honestly get more joy out of ‘costing you’ another War Games win.”
“But, I have my own goals to focus on. I have my own target in my crosshairs.”
“If I have to go through you to get to him? That’s fine.”
“As I said, you’re not THAT Mike Best anymore.”
“I’ll be happy to prove you’re more Polowy than Best now.”
“And when I do beat you at your own game. I look forward to that phone call six to twelve months from now; when you tell me how you’re a ‘bad friend’ and ‘suck at keeping up with people.’”
“I’ll love hearing your latest ‘let’s be friends again and wreck the HOW roster’ idea.”
“See you in Houston.”