Problem Solver.

Problem Solver.

Posted on October 7, 2022 at 11:49 pm by Xander Azula

10.2.22
The Best Arena
Chicago, Illinois

“That son of a bitch!”

An angry, uncharacteristically vulgar statement is shouted as a clearly enraged Xander Azula bursts through the door to the locker room, moments after the surprise arrival of Kyle McRae to HOW’s stomping grounds. This appearance by the sVo competitor ruined what was meant to be a great moment for the Fighter as he was about to announce his big challenge for Rumble at the Rock…a challenge that has now been accepted, but not under the terms Xander wanted.

Xander’s eyes dart around, clearly the look of a madman as the Fighter searches around for the man who dared confront him in what was meant to be a shining moment for the self-proclaimed conquering hero, shouting to seemingly no one in particular as evident by the only sound of response being the echoes against the walls and lockers..

“Where is he!?”

Moments later, it becomes clear that Kyle hightailed it out of the Best Arena, either to avoid the Fighter’s wrath or simply prepare for the battle ahead come Rumble at the Rock. This, of course, leaves Xander alone with his anger as he slams a closed fist against one of the lockers. He finally settles down enough to take a seat, resting on a chair with his head in his hands as he considers his next steps.

Suddenly, a DING sounds off from inside his pocket. Xander pulls his phone out, reading a text message out loud inside the empty room.

“Tough night out there, Xander. Need to refocus that energy if you’re gonna beat McRae a second time…maybe this will help?”

It’s a text from his coach, Joe Bergman, and attached is a picture that gets a small chuckle from Xander, finally easing the tension of the moments leading up to now…a picture of GREAT SCOTT, and an immediate follow up message from the Coach.

“Go take your frustrations out on GREAT SCOTT, and win yourself that HOTv Championship.”

Xander sets his phone down, resting his head against the locker with a smirk on his face as he nods to himself, the confidence slowly coming back to him after nearly suffering an emotional breakdown. After all, an opportunity like this doesn’t come nearly often enough for the Fighter, and he would need to set aside his rage and put his focus on the mountain he needs to climb.

A mountain standing just a couple inches taller than him, but also holding a nearly fifty pound advantage over the Fighter…possibly related to all the liquid STRONKUMMS the champion consumes on a regular basis.

“Okay, more of a really big hill than a mountain.”

Xander mutters this realization to himself with a chuckle, shaking his head with a sigh as we fade to black.



How do you solve a problem like Scott Gratesburgh?

Inquiring minds need to know.

The man is an absolute menace everywhere he goes, embarking on a path of destruction that has been seemingly unstoppable…well, for the most part, but I’ll get to that later.

Every good fighter knows to study the tape, and you’d better believe I’ve been searching through every minute of that beautiful bean footage to find the perfect opening to strike.

Let’s start with your ego, Scott.

A man of your talent certainly deserves to have one this inflated. I get it.

It’s like a balloon that just keeps getting bigger and bigger by the second…and that big win over Clay Byrd the week after Dead or Alive, picking up the HOTv Championship in the process, certainly didn’t let the air out.

I’ll let you in on a little secret, though, Scott.

Call it a science lesson from me to you…the more that balloon blows up, the thinner it becomes compared to all that air inside, until something sharp enough can pop it right out of existence.

Your ego is getting there, Scott.

The signs of it have already begun to manifest itself over the past few weeks.

After all, you’ve been impressive as hell in HOW.

You beat Clay Byrd in your first official match, and you won the HOTv Championship.

To top it off, you’ve been a fighting champion the past few weeks against the likes of Frank Dylan James, Bobby Dean, and Doozer.

Inflating that balloon just a little more each time you retained the title.

But, as you’ve so eloquently pointed out yourself, the greatness of one GREAT SCOTT has already been exposed as a lie elsewhere.

And while your losses in the land of PRIME don’t affect your win-loss record here…they’re clearly starting to affect your mood and mindset.

It can’t be easy going into the past couple matches you’ve had here, knowing that there are points of weakness that someone with the right intellect can exploit, twist around enough to take away your veneer of glory…and that HOTv Championship, in the process.

Of course, an unhealthy obsession with some of the worst food imaginable doesn’t help your cause, either. Seriously, I had a taste of that stuff before…and I’m only now over the drizzling shits I suffered as a result of bad decisions.

You’re stumbling the same path, Scott, literally and metaphorically.

The moment you popped up on the HOW radar, comparisons were already being made between you and another sizable man, one STRONK Godson…but I don’t think anyone expected you to take after him so quickly, Scott!

You should’ve said no to the STRONKUMMS diet, because look at you now.

As the liquid STRONKUMMS take a hold of your brain, they’re clearly clouding your judgment as you step into the ring…and where the head goes, the body always follows.

Which is funny, because it’s clear to me you have your head up your ass.

Your addiction is a problem, Scott…and I’ve got just the solution.

I’m gonna help you purge your system of the filth…by beating it out of you.

I’ll take you on a one-way trip to the Azula Rehab Center and help you stop this addiction once and for all…whether it’s to the STRONKUMMS or to the need to be champion.

When this is all said and done, I will help you cut both cold turkey…and then that ballooned ego of yours will finally burst.

No title for GREAT SCOTT, no winning streak to brag about. Just you, your bear, and your glare.

And when it’s all said and done, you truly will be just Scott.

Unfortunately for you, we already have two of those…and three’s a crowd.



10.6.22
MGM Grand
Las Vegas, Nevada

“Hold on, what exactly are you asking of me?”

We find ourselves inside the Avenue Café, a rather busy coffee shop on the casino floor of the Grand, where a visibly confused Xander has been presented with a baffling request by the Masters of the Multiverse…B-Team, namely Randall Schwartz and Kenny Freeman, who just look at each other before Randall speaks up.

“Listen, we understand you’re facing GREAT SCOTT this week on Chaos, and we get that it’s a big title match…but asking you to reconsider the whole thing. It’s, shall we say, um…”

“It’s not good for our brand, Xander.”

Kenny finishes the sentence with this remark, one that raises an eyebrow from the Fighter before he responds with a tone of voice laced with sarcasm and frustration.

“The brand, huh? You mean the charity scheme you two ran without proper paperwork, with the goal of raising money for a man who almost immediately was handed the thing you were fundraising for? That brand?”

This leaves the Masters absolutely flabbergasted, looking at each other with their jaws dropped. For the past couple months, they attempted to raise money for a group they called A GREAT HOME FOR GREAT SCOTT, even winning a hefty purse for the cause…only to find out that SCOTT already had a home, presumably thanks to one Lee Best.

The revelation quickly led to the shuttering of the charity, leaving the Masters scrambling for some new side hustle…but being called out on it here and now, amongst the hustle and bustle of the coffee shop surrounding them, leaves the Masters completely speechless…much to the amusement of the Fighter as his Eternal Circle compatriots arrive at the table. Mysti hands him an iced mocha, bringing a smile to Xander’s face as he takes a sip, shaking his head as he once again dismisses the request presented.

“No, I think I’ll go into this with the goal of winning, thank you very much. This is a man that, by all accounts, shouldn’t have actually had his title shot in the first place…and every successful title defense has made me sick to my stomach.”

“Are you sure that’s not the liquid STRONKUMMS kicking in again?”

This makes Xander glare at Kenny, the one who chimed in with the remark, who immediately leans back with something of a grimace on his face as Xander presses on.

“I’ve got a lot riding on this match, fellas. I’ve had just a small number of title opportunities like this, and I absolutely have to give this my all. A few weeks ago I nearly beat Clay Byrd, and I’m sure that–and not the fact I uttered the word jerboi last week–earned me the right to challenge for the HOTv Championship. So, with all due respect…I sure as hell am not gonna let you ask me to take the fall here, just because you two put all your eggs in a broken basket.”

Xander stops to take another sip of his mocha, as a now-angry Randall chimes in again.

“How dare you! After everything we’ve done for you the past few weeks! I helped you get some funding for your recent video packages, and Kenny…”

Randall stops for a moment, looking at the junior member of the B-Team as he tries to formulate an ending to that sentence…one that never comes, as Xander interrupts the Entertainer with a snarl on his face.

“I feel like I’ve said this one too many times to both of you…I don’t care. You came to me asking to attach your name to those vignettes, so you can play up that Entertainer lifestyle you enjoy so much. You didn’t pay me anything for that credit, unless you count one of those goofy food processors you’ve been shilling.”

Kenny’s eyes seem to light up as he chimes in once more.

“You mean the Foodie Magick Food-O-Matic 3000, now available in local retailers?”

This forces the Fighter to snap at Freeman.

“Stop that.”

Kenny just hangs his head in shame as Xander continues.

“I think you two haven’t been paying attention to a word I’ve said the past couple months…either that, or you have me confused with Jace Parker Davidson and all his STRONKUMMS nonsense the past few weeks. I am not out here trying to shill food, or electronics, or any bullshit like that. I am in this business to fight, damn it, and a fighter I shall be. That’s what I know best, and after Sunday it’s gonna make me a fighting champion.”

Xander pauses to take another sip of his mocha, but the Masters are stopped from speaking up as Xander shakes his head before pressing on.

“There’s nothing I’d love more than to take that title away from him, prove that I really am as good as I’ve been saying I am, and hold the power of being champion over the head of Kyle McRae and his beloved sVo crew.”

Xander rises to his feet, picking the mocha up from the table with a smug look on his face.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a match to get ready for and a problem to solve…and every minute I spend with you two is keeping me distracted.”

This seems to really sour the mood for the B-Team, who stare the Fighter down as he and his crew make their exit, leaving the pair of multiverse hoppers to bicker and argue amongst themselves as we fade to black once more.