Starr Wars

Starr Wars

Posted on December 26, 2023 at 5:10 pm by Mike Best

Jatt Starr is my enemy. 

I want to be really clear about that, because for fourteen years, I have been treating Jatt Starr like a lot of things. A goofball. A has been. A wannabe. A world class Lee Best leech. I’ve said all of those things, and I’ve meant them, but I don’t think I’ve ever really talked about where that animosity and where that hatred comes from. I played it off like I play everything off– like I’m too cool for school, and I’m above everything, and I’m above everyone. So it’s true that I don’t like Jatt, and it’s true that I don’t think he has absolutely any place in an ICONIC main event in 2023, but hey, fuck it, I accidentally put Stevens here too, so I guess what I’m getting you motherfuckers for Christmas this year is honesty. Not wishy washy, self-healing, self-important honesty, either– the brutal kind. The kind that gets you a wellness check from Lee Best. The kind that hurts feelings, and causes half this soft ass roster to suffer for weeks from chronic gluteal arthritis.

Jatt Starr is my enemy. 

Because Jatt Starr is a threat

I’m going to say something that I’ve never said before. Actually, a lot of things that I’ve never said before. It’s uncomfortable for me to do it, because it goes against everything I ever promised myself I would say about Jatt Starr in a public forum, but I guess it’s time. Simon, I fucking hate you. I’ve hated you since I joined HOW. The very day I joined, I heard the names Jatt Starr and Simon Sparrow, and the context in which I heard them guaranteed that we would never be friends. Never be colleagues. Never share a cup of coffee, or even share the same room for more than a handful of minutes. But none of that is a surprise to anyone. None of that is the thing I’ve never said before. The truth is, Simon? 

You are my father’s favorite wrestler of all time. 

And you have never ceased to be a threat to me. 

Yeah, yeah, breaking news, Michael Lee Best has a couple of daddy issues. But I don’t think you can even remotely understand the way I feel about it, no matter how flippantly you hand wave it in your little promos and your giant, overarching statements about shit you know nothing about. I am the single greatest champion in the history of High Octane Wrestling, but I will never, ever be Lee Best’s favorite wrestler. He can suck my dick on the radio, he can put my pretty face all over the website, he can give me title opportunity after title opportunity. But it doesn’t matter. Simon Sparrow is my father’s favorite wrestler, and I will never be able to do anything to change that for as long as either of us live. 

And yes, I fucking hate it

I hated it in 2010, when Lee Best revealed to me that he was my father, but still left Simon in charge of the Best Alliance. I hated it when Lee convinced me to stab Simon’s wife directly through the eyeball with a pen, but then continued to keep Jatt’s name in his mouth for the next three years every time anyone wanted to know who the GOAT was. I hated it in 2013, when Jatt came back at March to Glory and had Sektor and Shane do his dirty work for him… then flaked out on the fucking blow off at Rumble at the Rock and ruined the entire thing. I hated his shitty vegetable daughter when she showed up in HOW spouting the same tired bullshit her father had, while Lee Best clapped like a schoolgirl and celebrated as thought Christ himself had returned from the grave. And I hate him now, because despite my overshadowing and surpassing him in every single way, it was Lee Best’s dream to see Jatt Starr in one more ICONIC main event before he retired. 


Who the fuck is Jatt Starr? 

Simon Sparrow might be a Hall of Famer. He might even been a legend of HOW’s past. But so was Chris CK. So was Silver Cyanide. So was Lynx, and fucking… Bob Jared. Some things are better left in the past. What the fuck has Simon contributed to HOW that has kept it up and running all these years? We can he-he and haw-haw about how I’m the lazy stay at home guy these days, sitting on my couch in my sweatpants, but the truth of the matter is that no one outside of Lee Best himself has done more to keep the lights on in this motherfucker since 2010. I did multiple people’s jobs backstage. I leveled up our merchandising and made this place a whole lot fucking pretty for many, many years. I did more shit for free than half you motherfuckers would have done for a paycheck, and I have still had to contend with accusations of nepotism, and favoritism, and told that I had everything handed to me. Handed to me? 

Are you fucking high?

There is but the smallest handful of motherfuckers on this planet who are allowed to call me lazy, and I promise you that most of you aren’t one of them. The only reason anyone can call me a lazy fuck now is because it’s such a stark contrast to the fucking everything I was doing before, and even in my finest sweatpants, I am doing more for this company than Simon fucking Sparrow ever has and ever will. So why isn’t anyone calling this title match a handout? Why isn’t anyone just accusing Lee Best of favoritism? Why is it all sunshine and fucking rainbows that Jatt Starr has been literally forced into a main event for a championship he doesn’t even have the right to stand in the same room with right now? 

And then people ask why I don’t like Simon Sparrow. 

Like it’s some big fucking mystery. 

Yeah, I stabbed his shitty wife, and I cheered when his shitty kid got put into permanent power-saving mode. Do I regret any of that? Only a little. I only regret that I’m not the one who got to smash her shitty back over my knee Bane style and do the fucking job myself. I regret that Bethany didn’t fucking die when I stabbed her in the face. I regret that I only beat Jatt Starr in thirty seconds the last time we faced off for the World Title at a pay-per-view, instead of punching through his chest and smashing his still-beating heart in my clenched fist. Cancer Jiles was 98% less cancerous than Simon Sparrow has been over the last fourteen years, and that guys literal name is Cancer

But he’s Lee’s number one guy of all time. 

Figure that fucking math out. 

Dan Ryan earned a shot at the HOW World Championship. But when the Go Home show came to a close and Lee Best had a decision to make, he chose to have Simon Sparrow injure and humiliate one of my best friends. My mentor. My hero. He chose to take Dan’s title opportunity away from him, to protect Simon’s place in the main event of ICONIC. Why? 

Because he did the math. 

He knew the score. 

In a triple threat match between Michael Lee Best, Dan Ryan, and Simon Sparrow, Simon had a chance to steal a pinfall. Dan and I would shake hands and go to war, and do what the rest of the world has been doing for a decade– forgetting that Jatt Starr even fucking worked here. All it would take was one errant low blow– one well timed opportunity– and Simon would capture the first HOW World Championship he’s captured in the entire time I’ve worked here. It was easy math. But me losing that title to Stevens? The biggest upset of this era? Yeah, Lee forgot to carry the one on that, didn’t he? 

See, that changed the gameplan. 

Scott Stevens versus Dan Ryan versus Jatt Starr would not only have been the most one-sided main event in history, but it would have systematically and unequivocally guaranteed that Jatt Starr could not walk away with the HOW World Championship. There would be no distractions. No opportunity to take advantage. No moment of high risk, high reward. No, Lee Best needed me in that match– he needed me to take the heat. Needed me to draw the aggro. Needed me hyped and angry and ready to rip Stevens’ fucking arm off and beat him half to death with it. And he needed to keep it a triple threat… so somebody had to go. 

Couldn’t be me. 

Couldn’t be Stevens. 

Sure as shit couldn’t be Jatt. 

And so here we are. The ICONIC main event is the World Champion, the number one contender, and a guy literally just there because it makes Lee Best feel warm and fuzzy. He can preach all he wants about me being lazy, but Lee put the single laziest man in High Octane Wrestling into a main event title match, and he fucked an actual deserving contender out of it in the process. But if my father thinks that this red jacket is going to keep me from eviscerating, embarrassing, and humiliating his favorite wrestler of all time, then he’s sorely mistaken… after all, we learned the ultimate lesson about the Final Alliance in the final moments of the Go Home show, right? 

Loyalty means nothing. 

Partnership means nothing

This Alliance isn’t a family. It isn’t a unit. It’s a bunch of guys that my dad likes, all vying to be his new favorite. Sometimes it’s Solex, because he says whatever he wants and he’s the man who makes things pretty these days. Sometimes it’s Sektor, because the guy is a no business animal who gets the job done for couple of months a year that he hasn’t fucked off to wherever he goes. Sometimes it was Dan, before Dan committed the immeasurable sin of not being Jatt Starr. Everyone thinks that I’m the golden child, I’m the number one boy, but look at how fast Lee turned on me, too. How quickly he did everything in his power to make me join his stupid fucking club. 

Make no mistake, everyone, it will always be Jatt. 

He deserves the same “nothing” that he’s been contributing to this company for over a decade, but my father will continue to deliver him the world on a silver platter. He’s a con artist, folks. Simon Sparrow is the single biggest snake oil salesman in the history of wrestling, and he’s had Lee Best snowed for so long that school is cancelled fucking forever

But I’m the Son. 

And I melt the fucking snow. 

ICONIC is about righting a lot of the wrongs that I’ve been responsible for, first and foremost taking that HOW World Championship back from Scott Stevens and putting it where it rightfully belongs. But it’s not just about the title. Simon Sparrow, you have been glad-handed and gifted opportunity after opportunity in this company, and I feel responsible for that, too. I feel responsible that I left you alive to tell the tale after I dismembered your wife. It’s my fault that my father looks forward to your returns, time and time again, because it’s my fault that you’re still physically able to wrestle. I’m coming for my championship again, Simon, but more than that, I am going to fix the mistake I’ve been making over and over again for over a decade.

I’m gonna fucking dismantle you. 

I’m going to reach down into your soul and pull out the most vulnerable parts of you, and I’m going to expose them. I’m going to expose you. I’m going to make Lee Best’s next big orgasm over you the crescendo of a fucking In Memorium. You’re gonna get to hang out with your little girl again, Simon– you and that little half-sentient potato can run around on a big farm upstate, and no one will ever see you inside of a High Octane Wrestling ring again, so long as I live to make sure of it. And you might be a threat to me, Simon, but that’s a fucking promise. 

Say “hey” to Gilda for me, Simon. 

You’ll be together again soon.