Location: Houston, Texas: North Shore High School Football Field and Track
July 30, 2020: Time: 7:30 am
The sound of thumping is heard as the scene opens up and we see a Scott Stevens running around a track. The Texan looks physically exhausted from his perspiration soaked green Nike t-shirt and his heavy breathing. Stevens’ legs begin to get heavy with each step and he takes a moment to stop to catch his breath, but ends up puking.
“Did I say you could stop?!”
A voice in the distance yells and Scott wipes his mouth before replying.
“Then I suggest you get your ass back to jogging around the damn track before I add twenty more laps!”
The voice yells and Scott sighs before continuing his jog around the track.
“That’s why your stamina is shit because you’re stopping every five miles!”
The voice yells again and as Stevens rounds the corner we see a man in a black and white Nike track suit with a towel around the back of his neck and a whistle in the front. The man stands next to a barrel trash can in the middle of the football field and watches as Stevens circles the track. The man isn’t happy with the speed Scott is going as he checks his watch.
“You’re slowing down Scott! That’ll be another mile added! Pick up the fucking pace or it’ll be two miles!”
The man yells with a shake of his head before turning his attention to the camera.
“As you see, Scott is a little indisposed at the moment so I will be addressing his upcoming match against Zeb Martin this Saturday on Refueled.”
The man states as he places his hands on the ends of the towel around his neck.
“My name is Charles Greene. Friends call me Chuck, you can call me Mr. Greene, and dipshit out there calls me Coach.”
Chuck points to Stevens as he introduces himself.
“I was one of Scott’s trainers in his early days of professional wrestling and after a falling out with his father we have seen each other sporadically through the years.”
Chuck informs as he keeps a close eye on Stevens as he turns the corner.
“Now, I’m sure you’re wondering why the fuck a trainer is doing the talking for a former HOW World champion……..(a sarcastic chuckle is heard). It’s simple, Scott came to me because I’m the one person we would look him dead in the eye and tell him what he really needs to hear. When it comes to Scott he didn’t need the thousand voices in his fucking ear telling him he’s almost there or good job you almost had it (Chuck says with deafening sarcasm). No, he needs someone to tell him he sucks and he isn’t getting better and that’s what I’ve been watching since HOW closed its doors in 2016 to when it started up once again.”
Chuck emphatically states as he watches Stevens slow down a bit.
“That’s another mile Scott!”
Chuck screams at Scott as he continues to jog.
“You see that?”
Chuck points towards Scott.
“He can’t even jog five miles without huffing and puffing. It’s embarrassing he’s this out of shape and his performances as of late are just the same.”
Chuck says with a hearty sigh.
“And that is disappointing because when he’s on he’s a fucking Great White Shark, but not anymore. Hell, you’d be more scared of a guppy than you would be of Scott Stevens right now.”
Chuck states with a nod.
“Stevens is living in the past. He’s stuck on his past achievements and stats and I’m here to break him off those bad habits of his.”
Chuck informs as he reaches down and picks up a black duffel bag next to him and unzips it and reaches inside and produces a replica of the HOW Tag championship.
Chuck says as he tosses the title into the metal barrel as he reaches inside of the bag and produces…..
Chuck tosses the title into the barrel and brings out a golden plaque.
“HOW Rookie of the Year.”
Chuck tosses it with the other two titles before continuing.
The ivory strap disappears into the abyss before the infamous 97 red colored leather comes into view.
“Last, but not least, the HOW World title.”
Chuck tosses the championship into the barrel before tossing the duffel bag to the ground.
“Items and accomplishments of the past that made Scott Stevens a name in HOW are the same things that is hurting him. Scott Stevens hasn’t held a championship in High Octane Wrestling since 2016, do you honestly think he deserves to remind you of what he’s accomplished when he hasn’t done shit since?”
Chuck asks with sincerity in his tone.
“I didn’t think so.”
The bluntness oozes out of his mouth as he reaches into his jacket pocket and produces a pack of matches and a small bottle of lighter fluid. Chuck pours the lighter fluid into the barrel before striking a match. He stares at the orange glow before tossing it into the barrel and a smile forms over his face as the items inside catch a blaze.
“The great thing about fire despite its destructive nature is its natural regenerative properties to the environment. We just burnt Scott’s strangled hold to the past so he can start with a clean slate which brings me to Zeb Martin.”
Chuck says as he turns his attention to the camera.
“Zeb, I know your hobby is fishing and you know what that idiot over there thought would be a great idea to do for this promo? Go to Galveston and rent a fishing boat and cut a promo from the fucking boat.”
Chuck shakes his head with disdain.
“Yeah, I smacked him in the back of the head and told him his was a fucking moron for thinking that. However, I’m sure if this was the Stevens of old he would say he was a Great White and you’re simply the chum he’s going to eat on his way to the world title.”
“That is what I’m dealing with Zeb.”
Chuck shakes his head with disappointment before continuing.
“Zeb, we’ve been studying you all week and I have to say I’m impressed son. You’re still wet behind the ears a bit, but there is a fire in you that I haven’t seen in a long time and you’ve just started to tap into your true potential. We saw what you truly could become in your War Games match where you showed your grit and fortitude and you almost came out victorious. I applaud you.”
Chuck says with a clap of approval.
“There must be something about you as well if you caught the eyes of the eGG Bandits. Most people blow the Bandits off because of their child like antics, but most people tend to forget that the Bandits consist of former world champions and Hall of Famers. As of late, the Bandits have been the hottest group in HOW when it comes to momentum. You’re winning in both divisions and you’re earning title shots after title shots. Enjoy that wave of momentum Zeb because when it ends you could end up like him.”
Chucks points to Scott as he comes into view jogging.
“Zeb, you may not be a Great White yet, but you are definitely a barracuda, and for Scott to get back where I need him to be he has to defeat you.”
Chuck points towards the camera.
“You’re going to bring the fight and I wouldn’t expect anything less, but it’s sink or swim time for my little guppy and I need to see how he can deal with one of HOW’s up and coming talents. Good luck to you Zeb. We will see you Saturday.”
Chuck bids his farewell as the camera fades.