Solitary?  No… Solidarity.

Solitary? No… Solidarity.

Posted on October 27, 2021 at 11:57 pm by Scottywood

August 16th, 2021
Los Angeles, CA

Backstage at the Staples Center, sometime after Refueled has gone off the air, we see The Hardcore Artist sitting on a steel chair.  Still in his wrestling gear from his “Tag Team Title Match” against Mike Best and Cecilworth Farthington… where he and Carey… “lost”.  But Scotty is far from a sour mood.  Until there is a smile on his face as he stares at his barbed wire hockey stick and slowly spins it on the butt end like some kind of sadistic fidget spinner.

We see an EPU guard start to walk up with a pair of handcuffs and a taser in hand.  It is time to head to Alcatraz, to sit in his cell until the prison yard fight for the HOTv Title.  Scotty stops spinning the stick and looks up at the sole guard, the smile still on his face as his mind starts running wild with what he could do to this man.

“Stop thinking whatever you’re thinking about Scotty.  You either need to head to Alcatraz tonight, or you will be pulled from the prison yard match.” Warns the guard as he checks to make sure his taser is armed and ready.

“Oh I’ll go to Alcatraz tonight… but nowhere does it state that you need to be in one piece upon my arrival.  Maybe I feed you piece by piece to the sharks in San Francisco Bay after I rip you apart.” Suggests Scotty as he stands up from his steel chair and turns to the EPU guard.

The tension holds for a moment before Scotty laughs and sits back down in his chair.

“Don’t fucking worry, I’m in too good of a mood tonight.  Did you see what I did to Mike Best out there tonight?  Did you again see me distract him from the real prize, the HOW World Title.  All it took was some imaginary Tag Team Titles.  If he loses to Conor Fuse… then it was because of how I threw him off his game.” Smiles Scotty as the thought of Mike eating a 450 splash and being pinned by Fuse at Rumble would ever so slightly warm his ice cold sole.

“But what if Mike wins you ask?  That’s a solid question mister EPU agent.” Falsely questions Scotty as the EPU just stares back at Scotty through his mask, not showing he gives a single fuck about what is coming out the mouth of The Hardcore Artist.

“If Mike wins… then I pushed him back into that form that won him those nine previous World Titles.  I motivated him… I will be the reason for his success… or I will be the reason for his failure.  Either way Mike, I again… win.  We are far from done here Mike… because we will NEVER be done until one of us are dead.  I’m going to Alcatraz for this deadly sins… prison yard… HOTv title fight.  Where the winner, when I signed the contract, gets a shot at the HOW World Title during the ICONIC PPV period.  You win… I win… then it’s the one match we have never seen in HOW.  Mike Best versus Scottywood, one on one for the HOW World Title.” Fantasy books Scotty… but after all the fights those two have had this year. HOFC, Gino, two tag team matches, a singles match… this would be the perfect end to twenty-twenty-one.

“But that is all in a reality where you actually beat Conor Fuse… and where I dispense of seven other fuckers in a anything goes prison yard fight at my second fucking home Alcatraz.  It’s not exactly something I’d want to bet against, but it still all has to fall into place.  While I may not be able to keep up in a technical wrestling battle… I know the wrestling business!  There is a plan A… B… and C.  Mike Best will never be done with me… and the pain I plan to inflict on him… has just begun.”

“Come on, let’s go Scotty, we still need to fly out to San Francisco and get you out to Alcatraz Island.”

“As long as I’m in that cell by 8am PST tomorrow, I’m good.  So you will sit there like a good little fucking EPU agent and allow me my final minutes of TV time before I’m locked in a fucking cell for two weeks.  Or we can test who’d win in a fight… my hockey stick… or your taser.” Propositions Scotty as the EPU guard takes a step back and raises his arms, conceding until Scotty is ready.

“There are seven fuckers who need to be put in there place before I get locked up in my cell.  Most whom I need to look up on my phone cause I honestly have no idea who the fuck is in this match anymore.  Like I heard Jiles weaseled his way into this match.  Sounds like him.  He weaseled a way into my Tag Team Titles back in the day and from there built a shitty stable of scrambled shitheads who have been a joke in HOW.” Nearly laughs Scotty as he shakes his head, regretting ever letting Jiles team up with him in Twisted Reality.

What would have  happened if Scotty said no to Jiles?  Would the Egg Bandits ever have even been a thing in HOW?  No.  There is no fucking chance at that, Jiles would have never gotten the exposure he needed to be able to make The Egg Bandits the side show… sympathetic loser favorites that theta re today.  How can you not root for those super pathetic underdogs, even though you know they are going to fucking blow it over and over again.

“Jiles, Doozer and Dean…  all of them are a fucking joke in this match.  A prison yard fight?  Maybe if we were doing stand up fuckign comedy… then maybe one of your fucks would have some form of a chance to fucking win here.  Honestly I still have no idea how in the fuck HOW ever survived with Jiles as the World Champion.  I never thought I’d thank someone with the last name Reynolds… or Kael… but I think Sulter saved HOW by beating you at War Games.” Sighs Scotty as he wipes the fake bit of sweat from his brow… and giving Kael the only bit of credit he ever will in HOW.

“Then you got SuperDoozerMan and Weight Watchers number one client Bobby “Not Paula” Dean.  Both riding the coattails Jiles… who rode my coattails. Fucking pathetic… all three of you.  I’ll rip through you fuckers like the butter that Bobby Dean inhales through his fucking cpap machine.” Laughs Scotty as he just imagine Bobby Dean nearly dying forty-seven times a night as he nearly chokes on his own fucking fat ass tongue… or whatever fat fuckers like him do while resting their fat asses in bed.

“Solex… the man that quote unquote cost Mike Best the only pinfall loss in the last half decade.  The last of the Best Alliance members… cause let’s be fucking honest, Lee forgot you were even a member.  Clinging on to Lee’s balls like a spider trying to maintain some web that he designed years ago and is his only fucking claim to fame.  Seriously, just fuck off Solex, I think you’re a Hall of Famer like me… but when even I can legitimately question your qualifications… then what the fuck are you really doing?” Questions Scotty as he shakes his head while looking at his own Hall of Fame ring that he nearly hawked for a fucking beer over the past couple weeks… cause he felt like that’s about all it was worth in this new realm of HOW.  Where he has been treated like… well shit.

“Brian Hollywood… that’s about it.  Your name, like Zion’s has turned into a punch line and your associated with four fucking numbers.  One, One, Five, Nine?  I honestly could care less what they mean, but the girls and boys in the back seem to find it fucking hilarious.  Just like you thinking you have any fucking business in this match.  Hide in a fucking corner and maybe, just maybe I’ll spare you the most gruesome of the beating I’ll hand out in that fucking yard.” Warns Scotty as he just rolls his eyes, cause he knows Hollywood won’t listen to any of this until the last fucking minute… if at all.  But he is the one man he will debate taking it easy on and spilling the least of his blood across that prison yard.

“Oh QT Reese… a man who took the idea of The Hardcore Artist, fucked one of the Waltons… probably the ugliest one due to that fucking rat on your lip… and came up with ReeseMart.  Do you really need a whole fucking store to source out fucking weapons.  Who the fuck shops there?  The intellectually fucking stupid or lazy who can’t find any old ass thing lying around to beat the fuck out of someone with?  I didn’t your shitty fucking store to sell me on the idea of wrapping barbed wire around a hockey stick.  Shit, I coulda wrapped barbed wire around anything and made it fucking weapon.” Says Scotty as he points down to the bottom of the screen where a ReeseMart logo pops up on the screen.

“I think QT owes me some money now for that sponsorship bit.  But don’t worry QT, I won’t send you an invoice, I’ll get my pound of flesh out you at Alcatraz.  I’ll make you wish you never even thought of going into business selling weapons because I’ll make you beg they never even fucking existed!  Stop pretending you are the biggest baddest bitch when it comes to weapons in HOW and bow down before the fucking Hardcore Anti-Christ Artist before I make you cry like you have never cried before.” Smiles Scotty as he slams his barbed wire hockey stick blade first down onto the concrete floor of the Staples Center.

“Then there is JJR… which stands for a bunch of fucking names I could care less to learn right now.  The reigning HOTv champion who has such a tortured life.  Blah, Blah, lived in prisons so he knows what is gonna happen at Alcatraz better than anyone.  Better than the man who has been at ten… TEN fucking previous Rumble at the Rocks.  Who OWNED the fucking island despite so many federal laws being broken.  Oh you silly… naïve… fucking stupid CHILD.  You THINK you have some idea of what you are walking into come Rumble at the Rock.  You lived in real prisons for what?  Ten years at the very MOST?  Fuck, you know how tame that sounds to living in the world of HOW for the past thirteen years?  You were a fucking child when I debuted in the 2008 War Games.  Take your shitty fucking basic bitch cross chest tattoo and your yellow tights with the period stain down the front and fuck off.  Scowl at the camera and pretend like you have had a hard knock life so you seem like some brooding monster.  I’ll tear that tattoo off your chest and The Anti-Christ of HOW will make you fucking eat it before I make you tap out while my barbed wire chokes the life out of your fucking shit stain body.” Rants Scotty as the EPU agent takes another step back, certainly wondering now if coming alone was any kind of a smart idea.

“Ok, time to…” Tried to interject the EPU guard as we see Bobbinette Carey walk into the scene.  She is out of her ring gear, showered and seemingly ready to leave The Staples Center and head back to her hotel.

“What in the world are you doing, Scooter?  Why aren’t you ready to head back to the hotel?  We lost, but you got a huge match to start preparing for now.  HOTv Title on the line… a World Title shot on the line… redemption after losing to…” Tries to ask Carey, but Scotty cuts her off before the last statement, which he knows exactly where she is going.

“I didn’t lose to Mike.  Mike’s team beat me!  Plus I need to head off to Alcatraz… solitary confinement.” States Scotty as Carey looks back at him with a puzzled look.

“It’s a prison yard match now… and if HOW was gonna send you to solitary, they wouldn’t have sent one bitch ass guard to hall you off whenever you were ready.  They woulda dragged your ass off right after the main event, after Farthington kne…” Again Carey tries to explain, but Scotty cuts her off.

“We don’t need to talk about that!  But no more solitary?  You think they post something in the back about this shit.  Maybe some explanations as to what this ever changing fucking match actually is.  Lucky I even caught the bit where Jiles just decided to insert himself in the match over Eli.” Comments Scotty as Carey’s face lights up with anger.

“Yeah… the one woman on the card, kicked off by a man… trust me, that fact has not escaped me.” Snaps Carey back, obviously annoyed by that fact.

“So if I don’t need to go to solitary anymore… who the fuck sent you?” Ask Scotty to the EPU agent who starts to slowly try to back away from Scotty and Carey.

“Mike?  Cecil?  One of the fuckers in the HOTv Title match?  The dead carcass of Lee Best?  Even if he is really dead… he could pull enough strings to make this happen.” Again asks Scotty as the guard says nothing as he keeps trying to back away.  But suddenly we see Frankie crawl out into the hallway behind the EPU agent who trips over Frankie who grabs the LEGO piece he was looking for.

“Easy there dude!  I need this LEGO piece for my Ghostbusters set I’m building” Cries out Frankie as he gingerly gets up while the EPU agent looks back at Scotty with the fear even showing through his mask.

“Cut the cameras… I’ve always wanted an EPU mask.  It could come in handy after the main event at Alcatraz…” Smiles Scotty as he raises his hockey stick and the camera cuts to black as he hears a loud and sickening thump in the darkness.