What the fuck is this bullshit? I mean seriously? Lee Best and crew wanna push me out after Rumble by not resigning me, but let’s go book Scotty before his final match to squeeze every ounce of blood and sweat they can outta him. Plus Conor Fuse? Of all the people on the roster you pick Conor, Carey’s new tag team partner. I mean I guess I can appreciate the sick humor in it.
Plus it gives me the chance to prove that Conor is the discount replacement of Scottywood.
Shut up, I know he’s a former two time World Champion, only losing it in War Games a few months ago. I know he’s held that title way longer than I ever did. I know he beat me at ICONIC years ago.
But he’s still a discount fucking partner!
Did Carey’s apartment… or hidden private loft nerd cave burn to the ground while she was tag teaming with me? No. Did Carey ever lose while tag teaming with me? Well, yes, but when did Carey last win any match in HOW? Pretty sure it was when I beat Mike Best… or something like that. Might have been another man involved in that tag team match too. But I beat Mike Best, that’s all I really remember.
Point is Conor, if I wasn’t so checked out of HOW, then Carey would still be tag teaming with me. She wouldn’t have chased after you. She wouldn’t be dealing with this Stronk day time soap drama. She wouldn’t have had her apartment burned.
But I’m glad you’re getting to play CSI with her, trying to solve the big “mystery”. I mean come on though, this isn’t a CSI case… it’s not even as hard as a game of Clue. It’s like playing Guess Who and there is one motherfucker left on the board.
Who then? Nah, not gonna give you the answer when I can watch Carey distract you all week while I look to rip your fucking video game caloused thumbs off. You might think you have things easy this week. Pick up a win against a man who is checked out… who might not be a hundred percent after Dead or Alive… and a blasphemous attack the week after.
Yeah, and fuck you Fuse for now forcing me to pull my attention from the man I need to be focusing on. Honestly I have no need to beat the shit out of you this week… but if told to fight… well fuck I’m gonna fight and I promise there will be blood. Because I really don’t care who Lee books me against… they will all look like Scott Stevens to me. So go play Columbo with Carey and be the good cop, be the bad cop… just please don’t post a video of you two waterboarding. That stuff belongs on that kink site Carey stumbled onto months ago.
Speaking of kinks… who signed the double sided dildo to HOW? Better yet, how does he get a HOTv Title shot in match number one? FDJ… Frank Dane… sorry, Dylan James. Whatever the D stands for… and it should just be Dick. I can’t wait to see how this asshole flames out of HOW. Off to a great start! There’s a word I’m trying to think of that best describes it… I’d say it was… starts with an R…
Really? You actually thought I wasn’t gonna hit on this just cause I’m facing Conor? You think he comes to HOW and I don’t open my mouth when my fate is already set at Rumble? Is this all just a coincidence too? Maybe Lee Best needs to comment about if my ousting from HOW has something to do with him coming back to HOW.
But I’ll digress because I am not taking my own advice I gave Stevens last week. Focus. Focus on Fuse. Focus on Stevens. Focus on committing murder at a National Park.
That was six hundred and sixty-six words… go figure. Don’t go and fact check that shit… probably edited that shit down or up in post, but the point is you just don’t know what you are going up against Stevens… or Fuse too, but like I said, at this point it’s potato versus potaaaaaato…. Or however idiots say that shit wrong.
So who is third in line Carey? Who are you gonna team with after I decimate this replacement? After I claim Conor Fuse’s final life and make it game over? Have you got it in with Stronk yet? He’d make a pretty decent third stringer.
I swear, I still am Carey’s best friend, despite whatever Carey and Conor call their tag team. I just show my friendship in… a very twisted way. I’m not gonna braid her fucking hair, but trust me… if she finds out who is behind this bullshit, I’ll be in front of the line ready to murder a motherfucker. Especially if it is who I think it is.
Fuck, I need a fucking drink… I mean another drink. Rants like this don’t come to be while I’m sober. Then again, I’m never sober.
328 W 45th St, New York, NY
Just over a half mile from The World Most Famous Arena, some ten or twelve blocks away sits The Hardcore Artist at one of his new favorite spots in New York City, Beer Culture. A small almost dive like craft beer bar that isn’t super crowded and has one of the cities best selections of craft beer.
In his glass currently is a Triple IPA, clocking in at 10.3% from Barrier Brewing called The Strongest Geometric Shape: Citra+Motueka+Galaxy. He takes a sip as he hands the bartender this ugly ass magenta credit card to pay for the beer. The bartender swipes it in his machine and shakes his head. He swipes it once more to make sure and shrugs as he goes back over to Scotty.
“Hey Scotty, the computer says the card has been declined. You got another one? Or you want me to open a tab for you? I know you’re good for it.” Says the bartender as he hands the card back to The Hardcore Artist who has a smirk on his face.
“About time she canceled that shit. Yeah man, use this card.” Replies Scotty as he pulls another card out of his pocket and passes it off to the bartender.
“Gonna have to give her some shit about this.” Chuckles Scotty as he looks over to Frankie and shakes his head as he has in his hands a brand new iPhone 14 Pro Max. Yeah, it just got announced yesterday, and no, you can’t ask how Frankie obtained one already. Let’s just say we got those magic powers to do things that aren’t possible… or you can go on twitter and fucking blast him for trying to be cool or something.
“You really need to videotape me trying to commit credit card fraud?” Questions Scotty as he takes a big sip of his triple IPA.
“You’re the one you is saying you’re gonna murder someone at Rumble at the Rock… so I figure this will be like nothing on your rap sheet.” Jabs Frankie back as Scotty smiles and nods his head, actually agreeing.
Scott reaches into his pocket and pulls his cellphone out… he takes a nice photo of his beer for Untappd and then goes to his contacts and taps on Carey’s name.
“Wait, you’re not actually gonna call her, are you? You’re facing her tag team partner this week.” Questions Frankie as Scotty just shoots him back a look like… yeah, yeah I am.
“Caaaaaarey!!! What’s up?” Asks Scotty as he puts his phone on speaker and holds it out so Frankie… or more so his phone can hear it well.
“Are you drunk Scooter?” Asks Carey in a very mom-like tone as Scotty just laughs back into the phone.
“What time is it?” Asks Scotty back as he looks at the time across the screen of his iPhone.
“It’s six… on a Thursday.” She answers, not really sure why that matters, but playing along.
“Well then of course I am… but that is nothing to be surprised about. The surprise is that someone canceled your credit card. It just got declined here at the bar in NYC.”
“Not someone, I did. I canceled the card. You don’t even speak to me. Haven’t responded to texts in weeks. You didn’t tell me you were leaving so…yeah I did it.” Her tone is stern, almost like a parent scolding a child.
“Well about fucking time… and that’s a little dramatic. I never respond to texts… you know where you can always find me.” Responds Scotty as he takes a long drink of his IPA and places it back down on the bar.
“Plus leaving? That’s not how I take it, HOW is not renewing my contract.” Adds Scotty as he shakes his head at the ridiculousness of this whole situation.
“I called to check on you. If it wasn’t for Frankie and Ben I would know nothing. I’m not being dramatic by saying my feelings are hurt.” Tries to explain Carey… but it’s Scotty, so….
“What’s there to know? HOW doesn’t want me. I’m gonna murder Stevens. And now I have to take care of your new budget replacement partner.” Snipes back Scotty who is gonna let Carey guilt him into feeling bad… if Scotty could even feel that emotion.
“Again with the killing! You’re extra and I’m dramatic? You said you didn’t want to team anymore Scooter you decided it not me. Did you call to get information on Conor?” Accuses Carey as Scotty raises an eyebrow back to the phone.
“Cause neither of us need to be on a “team”. We both are better on our own… though you obviously disagree. Plus info on Conor? Why they fuck do I need that? Have you ever known me to be studying tape… to be trying to find even the most minor weaknesses in someone’s game to try and exploit? You know what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna step into that ring and beat the shit out of him… it’s gonna be as easy as that.” Explains Scotty as he shakes his head at the thought he needs to try and weasel info of Conor out of Carey.
“Because have you seen what’s happened to me? Do you know? Better yet, do you care? Cause if you did then you’d know why I have a partner!” An audible sigh of annoyance is heard on the other end of the line.
“He’s kind and compassionate, he’s doing what friends are supposed to do in times of need, Scooter.” The hurt is audible in the tone of Carey… but it still isn’t getting through to Scotty.
“He’s fucking weak! Is he gonna be able to handle these assholes when you bring their identities out into the light? They burned your fucking loft thing… they need to be dealt with violent justice… not some fucking button mashing combo on a controller.” Rants Scotty as he just realizes what he has said to Carey…
“Really!? Button Mash…” Almost yells Carey back, shocked at the words that just came out of Scotty’s mouth.
“I didn’t mean… but that’s pretty fucking funny. Not that I think Conor would even know what to do with one himself. Video game nerds don’t exactly… have experience. Though they have great dexterity in their fingers… just get him a bit of coaching Carey. But the point is he isn’t gonna be able to protect you from these assholes.”
“It’s not like that and you know it Scooter… maybe Stronk… but not Conor.” There’s a pause as she realizes what she just said. But then quickly carries on so that Scotty won’t dwell and jump on the Freudian slip.
“The point is now you care?! Do you realize someone tried to kill me? I was drugged and someone drove a vehicle I was asleep in off of a pier. And then my apartment was burned down too… so yeah, I needed friends, I needed a partner… I needed somebody who’s going to be there! You know what? I’m done explaining all this now over the phone, we will talk in person at Chaos. Bye Scooter.” Finally Carey ends, reaching her breaking point as Scotty tries to respond, but all he hears is the beeps of the iPhone that the call has ended.
“Well that wasn’t the fun ribbing I was hoping for… fucking eh she know how to kill a buzz. Hey, I’ll take the Fire Flower by Torch & Crown.” Says Scotty to the bartender who nods and grabs a fresh tulip glass to head over to the taps with.
“I know you already got your hands full with Carey there Conor… trust me I know. So you better make sure you are extra ready come Chaos, cause I’m not gonna pull any punches. You two may be friends… but you are no fucking friend of mine. I’m sending messages to everyone in HOW… especially Scott Stevens that Scottywood is far from fucking finished here in HOW. The Hardcore Artist is still alive and well in HOW… and I am going to cause all the fucking anarchy I can before my chapter ends.” Warns Scotty as he finishes his first IPA… just in time for the next one to be placed in front of him by the bartender
“Real friends Conor… are better than BEST friends. Time for me to light your fucking fuse and blow your shit up. I’m done with all the fucking games Conor, so don’t be playing come Chaos. It’s gonna be a fucking fight and this time i’m leveling up on your fucking noob ass. Oh, and thank YOUR tag team partner for helping ME out this week. Told you, even with that bit of a fight there, if I wasn’t so checked out… she’d rather still be teaming with me.” Laughs Scotty as he raises his beer and exclaims “Prost” before ordering Frankie to cut the camera feed.