Let me get something clear right out the gate here, I don’t know anything about all this Nettie nonsense and I’m not going to be entertaining any of it. No jokes about it. No references to it, outside of this paragraph of exposition. I don’t know if it’s still a thing or if we’re already beyond all that, and I honestly don’t really care. You can be one person, two people, or ninety seven people, and it doesn’t make a single bit of difference to me. I’ll fight every single one of you in a handicap match, it literally doesn’t matter. But don’t mistake my dismissive attitude as disrespect, Bobbie. Very much the opposite.
In fact, I wanna put some respect on your name.
I’m not going to ignore it because I want to insult you. I’m going to ignore it because for this week, for this match, and for this promo, it doesn’t matter.
Bobbinette Carey is a ride or die bitch.
One of the single toughest humans I’ve ever met. The only woman in the history of HOW with this kind of longevity, and it’s important for someone to call that shit out. Let’s face facts, there’s no biological equality. You can have whatever feelings you want about pronouns, identities, don’t tell women what to do, blah blah blah, it’s not the same argument. At the end of the day, if you want to be the sole woman in the HOW Hall of Fame… one of only two to every win the World Title… if you want to have the kind of career she’s had in a company that has always been 97% men, you have to be an elite fucking athlete.
Not an exaggeration.
If Bobbinette Carey had a penis, she might be the number two ranked wrestler of all time. I’m not even fucking joking, guys. A lot of people get mad when you start talking about biological advantages and shit, but you don’t even understand how much skill you need to overcome raw testosterone and brute strength. This sounds like I’m doing a bit or something, and I’m just not. Fucking respect to Carey. She’s stuck around through sexist bullshit. Racist bullshit. Jokes about sucking dicks and EBT cards. She’s got a good sense of humor, she takes it in stride, and she has never for one second backed down or ceased do anything but get right up in your face and talk her shit right back. So yeah, I’m gonna be the one to admit it. If Carey was a fucking dude, she might very well be the second, if not the greatest, of all time. And that’s not shade. Cause if I was a woman, Carey might beat my fucking ass.
But let’s face facts, Bob.
That ain’t the way it shook out.
The way it shook out was that I was born with supreme athletic talent and a fair to midland sized dong. I couldn’t even tell you the last time that I lost a match. In the last couple of months, I’ve upended Jace Parker Davidson, Evan Ward, and even our current HOW World Champion. I’ve been retired like four times and there still isn’t a motherfucker who can touch me. I have made records that will never be broken. I am a once in a lifetime talent, and as much as I believe that you are too, there just… isn’t a single chance in the world that you’re going to take the LSD Championship from me this week.
And that’s okay.
I know you’ve said some stuff about me so far this week, and I’ll be straight with you, I haven’t seen it yet. Intentionally. Because I know me, and I’m petty, and I don’t want this to become some back and forth bullshit where somebody gets their feelings hurt. It’s business, man. Just a wrestling match. I have a title to defend, and hopefully you are looking at this like a big opportunity. None of my opponents as of late have seemed to give a shit about winning this championship, and so none of them have. Everyone likes to tell me that I don’t care about my belt, while simultaneously basically telling me that they don’t give a shit about the belt. It’s become a weird world, I’ll tell you.
But you’re a pro, Carey.
I don’t need to hear what you said.
I’ll catch up on it after I’m done here, and we’ll see if my instincts are right. You’re either going to bring something new and interesting to the table, which I hope you did, or you’re gonna cut some variation on the same promo that everyone else has for the last couple of months. I hope it’s the former, because no one has survived the ladder.
That’s a solid fucking joke.
Don’t pretend that it isn’t.
It feels like no one is hungry anymore. No one cares. Everyone is so wrapped up in their little bullshit popularity contests and who is in whose stable nonsense. No one seems to remember why we’re all here. No one seems to give a fuck about being the best anymore. Conor beat STRONK, and now he won’t wear the title until he beats me? I mean, I appreciate the nod and I appreciate the respect, but isn’t the champion supposed to be the guy to beat? Isn’t that literally why we’re all here?
It’s why the fuck I’m here.
Sounds like y’all need PRIME, or some other bullshit wrestling show that’s really just an excuse to talk about your melodrama and feed your slimy little egos. I have an ego the size of a small continent, and do you know what I feed mine with? Gold. Championships. Accolades. Stats. Records. The stuff that makes getting punched in the face for a living worth it. The stuff that makes it okay to wake up with creaking knees and a thrown out back. Y’all are really out here risking your bodies and your lives, just for the fun of it?
And you call me a psychopath?
I’ll just be the one to say it, once and for all. If you look at my title and it makes you want to shrug, then just get the fuck out. Go. Leave. If you aren’t here to be the best of the best, then go someplace else. High Octane Wrestling is not the playground for you. It’s getting so exhausting having to justify why one of the most infamous titles in all of HOW is worth fighting for. I’m getting tired of having to help all my opponents put some respect on it, so they don’t come off as fucking morons. HOW deserves better than your fucking apathy, and for as much as you all love to say that my head isn’t in this game anymore, I seem to be the only one who isn’t treating it like a fucking game.
But hey, I digress.
Where were we? Oh right, Carey, we were talking about your vagina. At least in a roundabout way. And I really hope that you are reading this as respect, and not some passive aggressive sexist bullshit, because I really am being sincere. I have seen so many guys say “oh man, I hate intergender wrestling, who would ever believe that a chick could beat a dude” blah blah blah, but I don’t think they’re putting the respect where it belongs. I don’t think it means less that you’re a woman in what is essentially a man’s world, Bob. I think that it means more. MMA isn’t intergender. Basketball isn’t intergender. Football, baseball, fuck… even golf is separated by gender. The rest of the athletic world has seemingly acknowledged that while men and women can do almost all of the same things at the exact same level, athletics isn’t one of them.
No biological equality.
But you’re a fucking Hall of Famer.
A multiple time champion. A War Games winner. A legitimate threat to anyone on this roster, any given week. What that means to me is that you work harder. That you fight harder. That you train harder. That you are more technically proficient than 97% of the roster, to even be able to get into that ring and have a fucking shot. There isn’t a single male UFC fighter who would have lost to Ronda in her prime, no matter how much the world claimed to clamor for it back in the day. But you have survived. You have thrived. And so I want you to keep your head up, Bob.
This isn’t gonna be your week.
But fuck you are once in a lifetime.
Maybe this is just me getting wishy washy in my old days and wanted to give one of the OGs their flowers, but I appreciate your grind and your hustle and your dedication. I appreciate that you show up. I appreciate that you keep coming back. I might not always love everything you do and we may roll our eyes at eachother, but I am fucking proud to be in the same Hall of Fame with you. You have earned every single accolade that has come your way in High Octane Wrestling. And I’m going to show you this same respect at CHAOS this week, when I defend my LSD Championship, Bob.
I’m gonna kick the shit outta you.
I’m gonna give you everything I’ve got.
Because if I don’t? You will beat me. I have no misgivings or misconceptions about that. You can and will take my championship if I don’t stare across that ring and treat you the same way I treated Evan Ward. Jace Parker Davidson. Conor Fuse. I might have a natural advantage in this match, but it’s an advantage that I need. An advantage that I sure as fuck will be taking advantage of. So when we step into that ring this week and I hit you as hard as you’ve ever been hit in your life, or when I drive my knee into the side of your skull like you’re the worst enemy I’ve ever made in my life, I want you to remember that I’m doing it out of respect.
Respect for you.
Respect for the game.
Respect for the OGs.
When they load you onto a stretcher at the end of the show, I’m gonna make sure they do it respectfully. When the referee turns you onto your side to make sure that you don’t swallow your own tongue while I’m holding my title in the air, I’m going to make sure they handle you respectfully. Because respectfully, Bobbinette, I would sooner die in that ring than lose this championship, and when I say that, you know I’m not fucking exaggerating. I am a desperate, hungry, ravenous animal who will stop at nothing to defend something that belongs to him, and this LSD Championship fucking belongs to me. My World Title match against Conor? That’s the future. That’s something I need to get ready for, but it isn’t where my head is right now. My head is in this game. In that ring. On this championship. It’s on you and I, Bobbie.
So good luck out there.
May the best man win.