Let me get that out of the way in the title Mike. You’re a tumor in HOW… in it’s… let’s say fucking brain. Buried deep down inside of it… but don’t worry Mike… you’re operable. You can be removed. Whether you’re malignant or benign… you’re trouble for HOW… and it’s time for you to go. Or at the very least get knocked off your HOFC pedestal.
Yes Mike, we all get it. You can bury every motherfucker here without even breaking a Keith Suete. Honestly numb to it all these days. It’s always Mike Best. No matter what the question is.
Except for the accidental answer of Jiles… whoopsies.
But you want your dick stroked some more and the title histories and records updated. Well you know where the fucking edit buttons are… or maybe make another ring attire or banner for yourself, that’ll be way more useful to Mike’s Octane Wrestling. I’ve held shit down for fucking years so excuse me for the past year when my life crumbled to pieces… I’ve started to neglect a fed that barely gives a fuck about me.
What was your big struggle in 2020 Mike? You ran out of people to beat up in HOW? So now you gotta go back to the top of the list? Dig up the special guest ref from M2G who didn’t even show up to his “job” Saturday night because… yes… I was too fucking drunk. Sorry I’m neglecting whatever percent left of the worthless forty-nine you pawned off on me because you couldn’t handle it. Wanted back on the easy road to pad that resume a little more.
But Mike Best didn’t have his name on EVERY record yet!
And you wanna shit on ME for not doing the job that YOU couldn’t handle.
Fuck off Mike.
You claim there is a friendship between us… but I’d really check that famous fucking dictionary of yours. I won’t spell it all out here like a fucking Google search, everyone else knows what the word means. But you Mike… you have no fucking idea what the word friend means. You’ve NEVER had one. You have people who cozy up to you. Cup the ole Best family jewels and pray to whatever that your opinion won’t turn on them and bury them with that proverbial shovel. Which you’ve made a reality and literally beheaded people with… but I’m being a broken record. Just like your opening you just “had to get out of the way”. It all the fucking same shit Mike, easy fucking target after easy target. You enjoy those, don’t you.
It’s why you would never face Cecilworth Farthington.
Imagine the money left on the table, all because you hid behind him being your “friend” who you just “couldn’t” compete against. Because Mike really feared losing… feared everyone claiming Farthington was the greatest ever, despite Mike’s CVS receipt of accomplishments.
Sure man, we dragged Lee back and it was gonna be the three of us working together to keep shit running. Then the two of us were gonna work together and carry things when Lee was getting burned out. But after all the deals were struck… it turned right back to HOW it always is. You and Lee running everything with me playing a distant third wheel. Before everything went to shit.
We’re family? No, you and Lee may be family… if you believe science. Me? I’m just the literal red headed step child who will never be allowed on the Best level. Instead Lee pitches shit misfit stable ideas and you bottomed out the heat on The Order. Am I to blame too? Oh Yes… but my “family” certainly didn’t help.
Yes, I’m jealous, bitter and it’s caused me to not give a shit anymore. This is no longer a viable escape from the shit storm around me. So don’t now come at me and say this is tough love. Fuck off. The love is long since gone. You just want another record padding win.
This is an ambush. A Bottom Line is waiting for me. Because yeah, I don’t deserve this one bit and I know Lee is pissed at me. I may have “half” a brain, but I’m not fucking stupid. Bring it all Mike cause I won’t lay down. Not cause your lighting a fire under my ass… but because if I wanna enjoy HOW again… I need to cut out the fucking tumor.