I lost to Xander Azula. What the ever living hell? This one hurt; this one stung. Really. Like what the fuck? Maybe I need to hang it up. My ego is hurt, I can’t even pretend to not be phased at this one.
And I have nobody to blame for it. I lost fair and square. It makes my teeth hurt to think about it. I know it is because I let all the other stuff get the better of me. Honestly, hanging up the boots isn’t that far off, I know it. But there’s a little niggle in the back of my head.
Is the spark gone? Is the passion what’s missing? Why am I allowing myself to phone in things? Wrestling has always been my life. I remember telling green kids if you can’t go out there and make it feel like you’re main eventing the most important match of your life, don’t take up other spots.
Sure, I’ve said it doesn’t matter. But those losses keep stacking up. Yes, they fucking matter. Harrison, fucking Azula? Each damn loss there are echos of voices in my head. “You don’t have it anymore.”; “Quit wasting everyone’s time.”; “You should have stayed gone.”; And they get louder and louder. So I come to a crossroads. Do I stay home? Do I listen to those voices? Do I pass the torch? Why haven’t I just packed up and gone home?
Then I look at people like Conor, he came back for a reason. He saw someone worth helping. Maybe it was out of pity, maybe it was out of genuine concern. But what matters is why I stay.
The bbf joke was just that, a joke… and somewhere along the way it stopped becoming a joke. Somewhere along the way it became a partnership. Maybe when Farthington decided to beat the hell out of me for Conor’s attention. I saw a kid broken and stood up for his absence and promptly got my ass beaten. But I stood up for him… he saw that. I could have been two-faced, and let people talk whatever crap they wanted to because he wasn’t here, but something didn’t sit right with me about that.
Yes, I have a reputation for being disloyal. But honestly, it’s just a few minor indiscretions… I have been a loyal friend to many over my decades. I have to build that friendship with Conor and forge that with him. That is why I asked him to be travel buddies.
Sure, we are working out the kinks. It’s a fresh partnership. This isn’t like my other tag partners. I haven’t known him for decades, I haven’t made towns with him. We haven’t been on a plane for hours singing our hearts out to 80s hair band music. We will… maybe hook up a console on the jet and play Super Smash Brothers.
The lie detector with the bad cop, good cop thing seems to have actually worked a little. The first person being Scooter was an easy way to see how we could communicate. Though just being around Scooter brought the eyes of everyone so now I have to face his enemy. Scott Stevens…
There are too many Scotts in there, far too many Steves in HOW. Scott Stevens is both.
Why have I just now put together it could be Scott Stevens? He hates Scottywood! I’m his longest, truest friend; so Stevens would think that if he killed me or hurt me it would affect Scooter. Unfortunately for Stevens, Scooter is in his own world.
I thought putting distance between myself and Scooter would be better for me. I didn’t even think of Stevens… maybe I’m a bad friend for not taking Scooter enemies into account.
A wise man once said: the day we become best friends means my bullshit is your bullshit and your bullshit is my bullshit. But because of this…Steven just moved up the list with a bullet.
I’ve mentally been all over the place. It’s a rollercoaster. But we all grieve in different ways, right? I can’t be a sobbing mess in front of the camera. Oh inside, I’m broken. I don’t sleep, I am not okay at all. But I can’t let people exploit that. I can’t let people use it against me. Perhaps beating Stevens will help me sleep. Maybe this match will allow me to finally get close to the truth… and in that, closure.
We see the Cleveland skyline from State Road Hill in Parma, Ohio. The view can mean we are close to the home of the Hall of Famer, Bobbinette Carey. The home looks different now. There’s metal gates around the home with a large white fence around the entire property. There’s an access code to get into the driveway. We see flood lights on different parts of the house, as well as the garage and flood lights. The white French doors, now having black metal doors in front of it. The once sunny colonial house, looking more like a fort or a prison. It’s night time as we see the Queen of Epicness looking out her bedroom window. Her makeup is removed and her hair is pulled back into a purple wrap for her hair. She has dark circles under her eyes as she looks out the window nervously. She disappeared from the window into her bedroom. She walked out of her room and into the bedroom of her sleeping daughter, Mimi. Bobbinette watched her youngest sleep, making sure she was still breathing. (Those paranoid things parents do.) Once she was content, she walked out of the room and down the hall to another room with the open door. Bobbinette peeked her head in seeing her oldest daughter asleep in the guest room that was now Majandra’s room. She smiled as she was content they were breathing. She slowly made her way back to her own room. She walked past her pitbull and into her walk-in closet. She rummaged into the back of the closet, grabbing a briefcase. She set the paperwork down in front of her. She took a piece of folded papers. She opened it, as it showed almost a map like a portable detective board.
The detective board print out has the member’s of the board to the side. She grabs a picture of Scott Stevens and puts that in the center. She grabs a picture of Scooter and her. Setting the photo down, she looks angry. She sighs and grabs a laptop going through footage of Scott Stevens, from promos to wrestling matches.
Hours later, she emerges out of her closet with a laptop and pages and pages of notes.
The sun is already up at this point, another sleepless night….
She looks down at her cell phone and sends a text message “unlimited beer and a free place to crash for the next two Chaos shows, my place tonight.” She looked over the text and sends it. She then opens a text message, “Mean Girls movie night at my place and free room and lodge at my house for the next two Chaos shows. Team bestie ftw!”
Neither of these statements were a lie. And both were necessary. She knew she would hear about both of these statements from them but I’d hoped it would be received well once she explained what she thought. She sits at her kitchen counter, her eyes feeling heavy. She leans her arm on the counter with her hand holding up her head. Her head nods as her eyes slowly lower and her head nods down. She starts to snore as her phone vibrates causing her eye to pop open. She grabs her phone.
Bobbinette: This is me!
The look in her eyes shows her tiredness.
She looks at the phone seeing no one actually called, it was a text message. Her eyes burn as it hurts to read the message. The desire for sleep was evident.
Bobbinette closes her eyes as her hand grips the phone dozing off again. She hears a door shut and jumps quickly onto her feet, one hand clenched into a fist. She breathes heavily, her eyes looking almost crazy. She sees her oldest daughter Majandra and lowers her fists.
Majandra: It’s okay mom. Maybe you should go lay down.
She encourages as Bobbinette shakes her head.
Bobbinette: I have to get Mimi ready for school.
She says walking over to the fridge and getting out pieces for a lunch prep. Majandra puts her hand on her mother’s hand.
Majandra: She’s already on the school bus. You dozed off for the first time in a while and I packed her lunch and got her to the bus stop and waited and even endured your annoying hen friends.
Bobbinette: Thank you Majy… I made a break in the case.
Bobbinette says, sounding relieved as she puts away the string cheese and other odds she grabbed out of the fridge.
Majandra: Did you now? Instead of focusing on your match?
Her daughter’s tone sounds judgemental, as if almost mocking.
Bobbinette: It has to do with the match.
Bobbinette snaps back, Majandra nods her head.
Bobbinette: He’s the guy.
Majandra looks confused.
Bobbinette: Scott Stevens tried to kill me! It makes sense. It makes perfect sense. He knew killing me would raddle any rational partner. But he forgot that’s not Scooter. So therefore…he figured causing me more grief would have me run back to Scooter because, yeah, we are on a “break” but we will always be friends. It’s been Scott Stevens this whole time!
Majandra looks at her mom, then looks around.
Majandra: Isn’t he, like, all obsessed with Lee Best right now? If the guy never cared to get his kid back, you think he is capable of something like that?
Bobbinette shakes her head.
Bobbinette: Kids in HOW…. it’s weird… it’s why I’ve kept away from you and your brother and quit to raise Mimi. I love you all too much to let them hurt you guys.
Bobbinette’s start to water. Majandra nods her head and looks at her mom’s phone.
Bobbinette: Once I face him I can look at the face of my nightmares and all my sleepless nights and punch it.
Majandra: Mr. Woodson wants to know if “Mean Girls is a porn.”
Majandra says, reading her mom’s phone. Bobbinette shakes her head.
Bobbinette: I sent that message to Conor.
Majandra: No you sent him the one about the beer and free lodging…
Bobbinette wipes her eyes, shaking her head.
Bobbinette: If they are both here, I’ll feel better.
Majandra: I doubt either of them want to have a sleepover and be your gal pals.
Bobbinette looks out the window, sighing.
Bobbinette: It’s not safe for them to be around me right now. And Scooter and I have had car rides and sleepovers. I mean, we didn’t braid each other’s hair but still… and I have enough rooms. Eight bedroom house with three people living in three bedrooms means… I have…
She pauses trying to count her fingers.
Bobbinette: More rooms.
Bobbinette walks into her living room and takes a seat on her couch.
Bobbinette: Fucking Scott Stevens…
She says, sighing under her breath.
Majandra: You don’t know it was him, mom…
Bobbinette shakes her head.
Bobbinette: I’m mad it took me this long to realize it’s him.
Bobbinette hears “circus” by Brittany spears. She sighs as her daughter walks the phone in the living room to her mom.
Majandra: It’s.. Scottywood’s and Conor Fuse… they used teams.
Bobbinette looks confused.
Bobbinette: They are teaming together? What?
Majandra hands her mother the phone.
Bobbinette: Oh… hello?
Scottywood: Carey why the fuck would I want to watch Mean Girls?
Conor: You’re going to watch Mean Girls with Scotty!? WTF, yo. That’s way cooler than unlimited beer! I don’t even drink. I drink orange juice and chocolate milk. I thought we went through this.
Bobbinette sighs lightly. Meanwhile, Scottywood can’t help but laugh in pity at Conor’s comments. Fuse stares blankly into the screen.
Bobbinette wrinkles her nose as she interjects.
Bobbinette: I was trying to invite both of you to stay at my house in Parma because we’re going to be in Cleveland next week and we’re in Philadelphia this week. So I figured free room and board for you guys. I also figured out who was responsible for everything that’s gone on in my life.
She says as she lays down on her couch her head using the arm rest. Conor reveals a bag of Cheetos he’s been munching on and begins eating them again, anxiously awaiting Bobbie’s reveal.
Conor: By the way, don’t tell Jatt I eat this stuff. I told him he typecasts me too much. I’m not a stereotypical gamer, you know? There’s MOAR to me than meets the eye.
Scotty rolls his eyes.
Scottywood: The fuck you aren’t.
Fuse is rattled.
Conor: Dude, hey, who won last week? Me. Yeah, that’s who. I thought we were gonna be cool ATM because, you know, your friend… my friend… so we should be friends–errr tolerant of each other.
Scotty scoffs. Bobbinette nods, shaking a finger acknowledging that Conor is right but can’t finish her thought.
Scottywood: Whatever, fucking dumbass.
The two are going to continue this until Bobbinette jumps in the middle again. By now the circles under her eyes are visible.
Bobbinette: That’s enough! Don’t you want to know who it is or not?
Both of them stop bickering and nod. Conor goes back to devouring Cheetos.
Scottywood: Yeah go ahead, Murder She Wrote.
Bobbinette: Scott Stevens!
She says as if she delivered the smoking gun.
Conor: Um… Bobbie?
Bobbinette: He had motive, he had means and he had motive!
Conor: You said motive twice. Not exactly selling me.
Conor glances towards Scotty.
Conor: Or him.
Bobbinette sighs, shaking her head as tries to sell her point further.
Bobbinette: What? Anyways, who does Scotty care about?
Scottywood: Not a person… but you’re pretty spot on still… for once.
Bobbinette shoots Scooter a glare before rolling her eyes. Conor is thrilled he got something right.
Bobbinette: But as someone who would want to play mind games, Scott Stevens knows we are friends. So he would go after me to get to you.
Scottywood sits there for a minute thinking about this.
Scottywood: Stevens is not that smart… but with GOD whispering sweet nothings in his ear, he could have gotten the idea from him. He could definitely pull on Stevens puppet strings trying to finally make him a real boy.
Scottywood acknowledges giving credit to the argument. Bobbinette’s eyes light up as he connects the dots. She nods her head eagerly.
Bobbinette: He mentioned my name and as everyone often does, Stevens blames me for how you’ve been. So he did both things to throw off your attention, not knowing that you’re not the best at being a friend.
Scottywood: Hey, fuck you too Carey. I’m still better than Mr. Cheesy Poofs over there.
Conor Fuse: Mr. Cheetos thank you very much.
Conor points to the brand name. Bobbinette shakes her head from side to side.
Bobbinette: You try your best Scooter….
She says with a sigh.
Conor: I’m totally the better friend.
Scottywood: You’re the newer friend.
Bobbinette: Anyways… It all makes sense. It was Stevens and I didn’t put him on the radar. But the more I looked at it, the more I watched his matches. Would be getting you off course. So that’s why he did it. We just need him to confess…
Her eyes start drooping as she’s trying to force herself to stay awake. Meanwhile Conor’s mind races with Good Cop / Bad Cop cosplay.
Bobbinette: So I’ll have the jet pick you both up. Then we’re going to come up with a plan. You guys will stay here. I actually get sleep and stop drinking caffeine like Scooter drinks alcohol.
She starts to ramble as Scottywood and Conor exchange looks.
Conor: I gotta spend more time with the goon over there? I hate him.
Scottywood: It’s HATE… and yeah not going to happen Carey.
Bobbinette, however, ignores their bickering.
Bobbinette: So yeah you guys are guests here. I can show you some of the sights in Ohio, possibly get a nap, too. I haven’t really been sleeping so yeah I’m going to set the alarm. Now that we have our culprit we may have to water board him or something after the match Scooter that’s your department.
She yawns with a nod pointing her index fingers at Scottywood.
Scottywood: I told you to keep that kink waterboard shit to yourself. Plus I’m gonna take care of Stevens at Alcatraz. Then he won’t be anyone’s problem ever again. And you can show me breweries in Ohio… that’s the only sights worth seeing there.
He says grabbing his beer and taking a long sip. Conor yawns.
Bobbinette: We need him to confess. It’s not enough that you destroy him, we need a confession. He has a motive. Yes, fine, Great Lakes has a bunch of whatever. Plus there’s a video game bar that should work for both of you.
She says, agreeing quickly.
Conor: Like Dave and Busters?
Conor asks curiously.
Bobbinette: Even better. It’s old arcade games and classic ones.
She says as she closes her eyes.
Conor: That is so fetch! [Changing topics] AND we are still having the Mean Girls movie night right?
Scottywood: The fuck is fetch? Or we can watch hockey and I can get black out drunk so I don’t have to be conscious enough to know what the hell you’re talking about.
At first, Conor didn’t look like he was into Scotty’s comments…
…Until he took a moment to think them over.
Conor: I like hockey.
It’s apparent Bobbinette has fallen asleep on the zoom meeting yet the two continue on, now discussing in depth the New York Rangers and Toronto Maple Leafs chances of winning the Stanley Cup. No Chicago Blackhawks talk, though. They have zero chance.
Fuse stops and stares into the screen.
Conor: Hellloooooooooo… Bobbie?
Scottywood: Carey, did you die? Like for real this time?
Bobbinette’s oldest daughter Majandra picks up the phone. Majandra looks annoyed at the two on the other end.
Majandra: She’s taking a nap. Just get here and help her out. She doesn’t ask for help a lot… and If she’s wrong… just get here.
Majandra hangs up the zoom meeting on Bobbinette’s end. She grabs a blanket and puts it over her mother and charges the phone. It’s clear that Majandra has actually been helping out her mother and that this news has actually allowed her to take a nap.