- Event: Chaos 028
I haven’t been in the ring since March to Glory.
Not because I haven’t wanted to be, but because I’ve had bigger fish to fry.
Like, getting this Final Alliance shit together.
Have you seen our letter jackets?
My God.
The black. The 97Red. The wool. The leather.
Planned Parenthood has never had more business than it’s had since those things debuted.
What have you done lately?
Oh that’s right, you came back to life.
You’re so special kind of special and I’m the #1 Wrestler in the World, you hockey stick wielding sack of shit.
God, I wish you were still dead.
Why didn’t you just fuckin’ stay dead?
It would have saved us all a year of you talking about how you were dead and then you weren’t, and how you’re like Jesus, but you’re not…cause you know, you’re the fucking anti-Christ.
You’re so edgy and cool Scottywood.
You’re like a bad joke straight out of the fuckin’ nineties with your culturally inappropriate red dreadlocks hanging down to your pasty white shoulders. Rockin’ those bullshit lip rings and those unbelievably terrible tattoos while you cruise for babes in your 1996 Geo Metro down Park Avenue blasting motherfucking Nickelback on the Kenwood six-by-nines, with your windows rolled all the way down.
You’re played the fuck out!
Do us all a favor and jump into a fuckin’ volcano already.
That’s hardcore, ain’t it?
Except for Bobinette Carey, nobody gives two shits about you.
You’re so unbearably bad and irrelevant that VICE TV has sent out feelers for a documentary, but immediately retracted when they realized nobody gives a flyin’ fuck about you, you fading void of mediocrity.
You’re not fooling anybody, Scotty.
You’re literally Scott Stevens with moldy red hair.
That’s why he killed you, cause the world can only stand one of you nutless, dimwits at a time. Yet for some reason you’re back, and you’re the same worthless dickweed you’ve always been.
Nothing has changed.
And you’re still the worst kind of excuse for a wrestler and you’re not even a quarter of what’s required to be a man.
You’re the shit stuck beneath my shoe when I leave the dog park with your girlfriend.
You’re a fuckin’ NERD, and no one likes you.
You do understand that this match has fuck all to do with you, right? This match isn’t about you, at all.
It’s about me, it’s about Steve Solex.
It’s about the #1 Wrestler in the World and the captain of War Games…not just captain of my team, but captain of the whole motherfuckin’ thing!
It’s about me putting my dick on the table and defending my ranking as number-one.
Do you really, honestly, believe that you have any shot at beating me this week?
You think you did something special last week when you beat Marvolo? That fuckin’ guy trains with my shoelaces as battelropes. He drives a fucking remote control car and is in the same weight class as a Ken doll. He was wrestling in dive bars across the country for 25k a year before he came to HOW.
So, don’t get too far ahead of yourself, Scotty.
You’re right back where you belong, Scotty. It’s where you’ve been your entire fucking career…in the shadow of Mike Best. You couldn’t be a War Games Captain on your own, so you had to get drafted onto Team SON.
And would you look at that? You were drafted right in between Jace Parker Davidson and Scott Stevens.
Biggest NERD sandwich I’ve ever fuckin’ seen.
A guy who, on live TV, gets pissed on. ALL OVER HIS FUCKING FACE, and does absolutely nothing. And a guy who just doesn’t understand that 90% of the HOW roster is above his pay grade and keeps spitting out challenges like your Mom spits out the seed of Lee Best every other weekend during visitation.
You’re on a team that was created by Lee Best to give the NERDS a chance to be on a big boy Pay Per View and make a couple bucks.
Don’t be so proud of yourself.
—
April 11, 2023
1520hrs
Franklin, TN
Solex Ranch
In the center of the room, Solex admires himself in the mirror hung on the wall across from him. He gently smooths the wool fabric of his brooding black Final Alliance letter jacket, knocking a tiny piece of white lint to the floor. Solex takes the jacket off and slings it over his right shoulder. He walks across the room, swings open the closet door and hangs his coat up.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
The deep and overpowering voice of Solex’s father causes the blood of the #1 Wrestler in the World to immediately boil as he drops his head in frustration. Solex grits his teeth and slowly turns to face his father.
“Better question, what the fuck are you doing…here?” Solex asks, as he plants a finger into his old man’s chest.
Dick looks down at his son’s finger and then back up at him.
“What are you doing in my fucking house, drinking my fucking liquor and banging my fuckin’ bang maids?” Solex continues, slamming his finger into his dad’s chest with every word.
“You invite…”
“You know what?! Fuck this!” Solex exclaims his father down and slams his finger into his dad’s chest one more time before he grabs his father by the back of the head and bends the old man forward.
Solex forcefully drags his dad across the room as the old man struggles, trying to get free.
“Get your fuckin’ hands off me!” Dick screams out in a panic, but Solex doesn’t let up, only laughs hysterically as he continues to drag his old man across the room.
Solex yanks open the bathroom door and with a fistful of hair he pulls his dad’s face up to his.
“You fuckin’ NERD! Get your ass in there!” Solex shouts as he shoves his dad into the restroom.
Solex slams the door shut behind himself and hoists his dad over his shoulder.
“What the fuck are you doing?! Please don’t!” Dick pleads with his son, but it’s too late.
Solex drops his old man head first into the toilet.
“NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!” Solex’s dad cries out, his voice reverberating off the ceramic inside the toilet.
FFFFFFFLLLLLLLLLLUUUUUSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!
Solex holds his dad upside down with his head in the toilet and shouts, “NEEEERRRRRRRDDDD!!!!!!”
Without warning, Solex releases his dad’s legs, sending the old man down with a thud to the cold tile floor. Dick, drenched from his waist up with cold toilet water takes in a deep breath, gasping for air as he desperately tries to catch his breath.
“What (breath) the (breath) fuck (breath) was (breath) that (breath) for?” Dick asks as he clears his eyes of the, hopefully, untainted toilet water.
Solex squats down in front of his old man, looks him in the eye and then gives him a wink.
“I’m training, NERD!” Solex exclaims as a smile stretches across his face.
Dick gives a confused glare at his son and asks, “Training? What the fuck are you training for that you had to give me, a 65 year old man, a fuckin’ swirly!?” His voice gets louder and louder with each word.
“For the NERD olympics,” Solex says, still grinning like a maniac.
“Jesus Christ. I’ll bite. What are the nerd olympics?” Dick asks with a sarcastic tone.
Solex shakes his head in disappointment as he pulls a cigarette from the pack of Marlboro’s in the breast pocket of his freshly ironed, white t-shirt. He puts the cigarette between his teeth and in one motion flicks open his zippo and fires up the smoke. He takes in a deep drag and blows the smoke in his dad’s face.
“Fuckin’ nerd,” Solex mutters softly to himself as he shakes his head once more. “CHAOS, bitch. I have to go against this fuckin’ guy, Scottywood,” he says before taking another drag of his smoke and once again blowing it right into his father’s face.
Dick rolls his eyes and asks with an elevated tone,”Ok, what does that have to do with nerds and what does that have to do with giving me a fucking swirly!?”
Solex laughs, takes another drag of his smoke and bursts, “Everything!”
“You’re a NERD. Scottywood’s a bigger NERD. So, you’re my sparring partner, NERD!” Solex shouts as he jumps to his feet, his cigarette pinched between his teeth.
“WEDGIE!” Solex shouts as he reaches over his dad’s head, gets a handful of what appears to be whitey tighties and yanks them up as hard as he can, completely obliterating the waistband.
Solex’s old man, his underwear still wedged up his crack, tries to escape the bathroom, but Solex blocks the exit. The two men, one still soaked in toilet water face to face: Solex with a smile on his face and Dick breathing heavily with gritted teeth.
“MOVE!” Dick exclaims, preparing to charge at his son.
Solex chuckles and moves to the side, clearing a pathway to the door.
Dick darts for the door, and just as he thinks he’s in the clear he feels Solex’s foot hook around his ankle, unable to regain his balance, he falls face first into the carpeted floor of the living room.
The rhythmic thud of Solex’s footsteps close in on Dick from behind and send a shiver down his spine as Solex’s shadow stretches across the living room floor in front of him.
Dick scampers to his feet and sprints across the living room, but Solex stays right behind him and shoves him into the wall near the closest. Solex grabs a handful of hair from the top of Dick’s head, swings open the closet door and points inside.
“Look at it, NERD!” Solex shouts.
Dick, still dazed from his fall, struggles to focus in on the blue metallic object in the back of the closet, just past the beautifully custom made letter jacked dangling from a coat hanger.
“Is that…” Dick begins, as he attempts to squint his way to twenty-twenty vision. “Is that a fucking LOCKER!?”
Solex erupts into a sinister, hyper exaggerated, fake, evil laugh as he wrenches the locker open. The locker is empty, save for the lone jock strap hanging from the hook in the back.
“GET IN THERE, YOU FUCKIN’ NERD!” Solex shouts as he forces his old man into the locker and slams it behind him.
Dick punches at the door from the inside, trying to bust out but without luck.
“LET ME OUT OF HERE YOU PRICK!” Dick shouts from inside the locker, his voice muffled and distorted.
Solex leans back against the locker and draws a deep puff from his cigarette. He slowly slides down the blue, metallic, locker and sits back against it. A final thud from the inside is heard before Dick asks from inside the locker, “What does this have to do with anything?”
Solex laughs as he spits in his palm and extinguishes his cigarette in it.
“You’re a NERD, Scottywood’s a NERD,” Solex proclaims as he tilts his head from side to side and raises his eyebrows.
Dick sounds disappointed and asks, “Is that it?”
Solex scoffs sarcastically and mocks, “Is that it? Is that … it?!”
Solex chuckles, shakes his head, places his hand across his forehead and with a smile says, “Yeah, that’s basically it.”
April 13, 2023
2105hrs
Solex Ranch – Patio
Franklin, TN
Resting his feet atop the outdoor, glass coffee table, Solex leans back and watches as the sun sets completely behind the hills across the rolling hills of his Tennessee Ranch and the orange sky begins to turn a shade of purple. Sipping tea from a tall glass, Solex takes in the view from his favorite resting place.
“Ya’ know, Hank. Ain’t shit changed, man,” Solex says with a grin as he holds his glass up and gestures toward his veteran buddy.
Hanks curiously looks in Solex’s direction and asks, “Whatcha’ mean?”
“We go out, we try to recruit, but it’s the same repetitive bullshit Guys are all pumped up and ready to go, but their motivation fizzles out after a couple of weeks and then we’re right back where we fuckin’ started, man,” Solex says, his tone more stern and the smile erased from his face.
Hanks chuckles and says, “Yeah, man, it’s a shame. But what can ya do? They just don’t make ‘em like they used to. These pussified, so-called, Patriots, just aren’t. They’re just not what they claim to be anymore and with what we’re trying to accomplish, we’re kinda stuck between a rock and a hard place, man.”
Hank continues to laugh, but Solex just stares at him blankly.
“But, recruiting is your job, Hank,” Solex says, his expression still blank.
Without, a muffled scream and the sound of knuckles banging against metal are echoes from inside the house. Startled, Hank jumps up out of his seat and looks toward the sound, then down at Solex. Solex, unfazed by the commotion, takes a sip of his tea and continues to stare out at the view.
“What the fu…what was that?” Hanks asks with a look of confusion over his face as he points toward the house.
Solex takes another sip from his tea and with a mischievous laugh he says, “It’s the old man.”
Hank’s eyes grow wide as a look of confusion comes over his face.
“The old man? You mean Dick?” Hank questions, trying to quickly get to the bottom of things.
“Yeah, Dick,” Solex says.
Hank remains concerned and asks, “What’s the matter with him?” while continuing to point towards the house.
Against the backdrop of the setting sun, Solex gets up from his seat and slowly removes his robe revealing his black wool and leather Final Alliance letter jacket. A freshly sown, reverse, American Flag patch on his right arm sparkles in the little light left in the evening sky.
Hank’s eyebrows narrow as he appears to become even more confused than before.
“Is that a letterman jacket?” Hank asks, still half heartedly pointing toward the house.
“Recruiting is your job, NERD. The reason we don’t have members is because you aren’t doing your fucking job! So, instead of relying and waiting on you, I built an Army with Lee Best and the HOW World Champion,” Solex rants as he slowly approaches his new friend.
Solex cracks his knuckles, and in a sudden shift, Hank’s confusion morphs into fear. He rushes toward the living room at his fastest speed. Unfortunately for Hank, it’s much slower than Solex’s top speed.
Solex stays with him through the house until they reach the closet and then suddenly Solex shoves him into the closet. Dick begins to frantically scream and beat on the inside of the locker until Solex yanks the door open. Dick is immediately blinded by the little light that makes its way inside.
“LET ME OUT!” Dick shouts out in fright, his face pale and sweaty. Solex gives him an evil grin, clears a path for him and the old man crumbles to the closet floor.
“Fuckin’ NERD,” Solex mutters as he softly kicks his dad in the ribs.
Solex reaches down and lifts Hank from the floor and tosses him into the locker. He shoves the scruffy veteran as far back as he can with his boot before he shoves his old man back into the locker as well.
“God,I fuckin’ hate NERDS.”