Thank You For Coming

Thank You For Coming

Posted on July 20, 2022 at 5:14 am by Scott Stevens

Location: Tulsa, Oklahoma: Marriott Hotel Banquet Hall
July 19, 2022: Time: 2:30 pm

As the image comes into view we see dozens of people sitting in what seems to be an endless amount of chairs in a banquet hall of a Marriott hotel in downtown Tulsa. Each person varies in age, gender, and race, but there is one thing they have in common and that is they are wearing that infamous color of 97 Red. The chatter in the room is loud and there is various conversations about various things, but all of that comes to a halt when The Demi-God of HOW walks into the room. Stevens makes his way to the center of the room and looks around.

“Thank you all for coming.”

Stevens expresses his gratitude for all that have come today as the people clap.

“If GOD could be here today to see this he would be ecstatic, but alas he still has swelling around his eyes and more injuries from that vicious assault by that coward Kostoff this past Sunday at Chaos.”

Stevens informs the audience who let out a chorus of boos.

“Yes, our GOD was assaulted ladies and gentlemen!”

Stevens shouts in anger as the people in the room chant, “FUCK YOU KOSTOFF!” over and over.

“That’s right, FUCK KOSTOFF!”

The people in the room give Stevens a round of applause.

“If that pussy was in this room right now I’d walk up to him and slap him like the bitch that he is.”

Stevens imitates giving Kostoff a backhand before coming around again for the full on Rick James to Charlie Murphy slap.

“And just like that pussy Kostoff will be begging me to stop….”

The audience chants, “KOSTOFF IS A PUSSY!” over and over.

“And I would.”

Stevens’ statement confuses the audience and he raises a hand to silence them.

“My friends, it is not GOD’s will to have me end Kostoff as he wants to do that himself.”

A devilish smile plasters the Texan’s face as he turns and heads towards the front of the room. Once he gets to the front, he takes a left and walks over to a wood podium. Stevens grabs a leather bound book and the front of the book reads….



“Anyone got the word?”

Stevens asks with the book held high and the majority of the people in the room hold up a similar book, much smaller, but a Book of Best nonetheless.

“Word up. Word Up.”

Stevens repeats as the audience does the same.

“Hold that bad boy up like you really, really care.”

Stevens looks around the room to make sure everyone has their books held high.

“In the beginning was the Word, and the word was with GOD, and the Word was GOD. It is a lamp unto my feet, a 97 Red light unto my path; I will hide HIS Word in my heart so that I might not sin against GOD. Holy Spirit, give me ears to hear, and strength to obey. In Lee’s name, blessed be!”

Stevens and the people in the attendance say in unison and for the newbies it was being projected through a projector on screen in the front.

“Blessed be. Blessed be.”

Stevens says before taking a drink of water.

“I have gathered you all here today because of the great evils that have not only been plaguing High Octane Wrestling, but to our gracious GOD, Lee Best!”

Stevens grips the sides of the podium as disdain fills his tone.


A deafening round of boos is heard.

“The Highwaymen”

Jeers continue to fill the room.


Don’t know if it’s the sound of boos or who was filling the room louder.


The negativity grows and Stevens shakes his head in approval.


A confused reaction is heard.

“And last, and most certainly least, The Board.”

Boos flood the room and Stevens holds his hand up for the noise to subside.

“Everyone of the people mentioned is responsible for what happened to OUR GOD!”

Stevens shouts with hate in his voice.

“Everyone of those people watched, laughed, and smiled as OUR GOD took a powerbomb on a steel stage from a coward who has no remorse for life. Individuals who should be thanking Him for being allowed to compete in the Garden of High Octane. Individuals who should be thanking Him that he allows them to feed off of the breast of HOTv. Individuals who could dominate any McKenna Blue company, but want a challenge!”

Stevens punctuates by slamming his fist on the podium.

“However, all these individuals can go to straight to Fisher Price Hell!”

Stevens shouts as spit flies out of his mouth as he spews his venom of hate and the audience gives him a hearty applause.

“This is why OUR GOD needs your help to make sure He gets back to full strength so He can bring wraith and judgment to all that have forsaken Him!”

The audience gets to their feet and the applause is deafening and Stevens holds up his hand.

“And the only way to ensure this is with your tithes and offerings.”

Stevens says as he motions for individuals with buckets.

“As the video plays, my Ushers of Best will be walking down each row to collect your donations to help our GOD make a speedy recovery.”

Stevens informs the audience as the video plays.


Stevens takes a sip of water before opening the Book of Best to the first chapter.

“Now, we as followers of Best have never forgotten were everything began, but to all that are new or have fallen off of the 97 Red path of enlightenment it all started with the Book of Genesis.”

Stevens proclaims as he allows everyone to turn to the correct page.

“[1] In the beginning, GOD created all things High Octane.

[2] And HOW was without wrestlers; and Mark was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of GOD moved upon the face of the McKenna Blue waters.

[3] And GOD said, Hey Dickhead: And there was a 97 Red colored light.

[4] And Mark saw the 97 Red light, that it was good: and GOD divided the Best from the Fisher Price.

[5] And GOD called the 97 Red light HOW, and the Blue he called everyone else. And HOW and everyone else were the first wrestling promotions of significance and irrelevance.”

Stevens stops to gaze the crowd before continuing as the scene fades.


It seems people have forgotten their humble beginnings when it comes to High Octane Wrestling, but more importantly, Lee fucking Best!

Am I right Harrison?

You just like many before have followed the Path of Best. GOD fed you, clothed you, sold your ponzi schemes on HOTv, gave you booze, drugs, and every color of woman under the sun just so a washed up has been like yourself could be taken care of, make some money, and be entertained. However, that wasn’t fucking good enough was it?


How did you repay your Lord and Provider?

By stabbing him in the back and teaming up with those Fisher Price heathens in the Highwaymen. Every single one of you are ungrateful pieces of shit. Joe Bergman, the forever journeyman, found new life and opportunity in HOW when he was floundering around as a curtain jerker in MVW, but he’d rather shakes hands and kiss babies with the idiots in Section 214 instead of follow the Path of Best. Clay Byrd was brought in from obscurity to replace me as the Texas Bad Ass because I was moving towards retirement. However, they soon realized that the big, hulking menace couldn’t bust a grape in a fruit fight and I was brought back by GOD himself because you can’t replace the original. Clay Byrd has all the talent in the world to become a world champion and Hall of Famer, but this isn’t PRIME, or MVW. Steve Solex, you’re my boy, and I say this from the bottom of my heart when I tell you to drop these fools, get over yourself and quit throwing a fucking tantrum because the House of Best wants their MercDad back.

Steve Harrison, the hypocrite and liar, is the worst of them all.

You see, Harrison is a user.

That’s all he has done since coming into HOW. He used his stupid sour milk product placement to make money and GOD allowed him to keep 97% of the profits. He used the Best Alliance, more importantly, Cancer Jiles to win his very first championship. That’s right, he rode the coattails of Jiles to become a tag champion just like he rode the Highwaymen’s coattails to become a tag champion again. Freebird rules my ass. The biggest joke of them all is his LSD championship reign. You were basically handed the championship. You used the fact that the previous champion had quit the company following a disagreement, but had to show up and drop the belt because they were contractually obligated to. Nice win there, champ….or is it chump?

Harrison, when I first came into HOW almost a decade ago I was a lot like you are now.

Fuck Lee Best.

I proudly waved that flag ever since I threw him off of his own stage when my company invaded his. However, as the years passed I understood my misdoings and had to wander the deserts of Midcard obscurity like my name was Jace Parker Davidson. It wasn’t until I heard the teachings through GOD’s Disciples, John Sektor and Max Kael, that the enlightenment of 97 Red started to creep in and War Games turned me into an unquestionable follower when GOD himself needed me to save him, but the truth is he saved me, and I will be forever grateful unlike you.

You see Harrison; a lot of people deny GOD. Hell, even GOD’s own son has denied him multiple times through the years and it has taken a whipping figuratively and literally to make sure the Son of God is back on the righteous path. As GOD’s Senior Advisor, he has laid his plan out to me and it is a masterful work of art I should say. Everyone you mentioned you could care less for is just a pawn in the bigger scheme of things.

The Board.

You say they have nothing better to do than troll you, but the fact is they have beaten you at every turn. Is it trolling or a reminder?

Besides, those idiots have no clue what is going on.

Mike Best is too busy trying to be dad of the year, but he couldn’t even take care of my kid. That’s why I left him with Solex and Byrd because my Bottomline hand is strong. Jace is too busy catching every venereal disease in the world and playing in Fisher Price lands to see the bigger picture because it’s stuck up STRONK’s ass. Cecilworth is on a fucking Harrison milk carton somewhere. America is too busy sending explicit pictures of himself to 97 Red because it’s the only thing he can win over in real life.

However, GOD has a plan for them.

What is your significance in all of this Harrison?

I mean, how many more losses is it going to take before the Highwaymen implode? How many loses before Joe Bergman retires for the umpteenth time and is selling concessions in MVW? How many more losses before Clay Byrd becomes the star everyone thinks he could be for the Blue Brand? How many more losses to Christopher America before Solex takes his rightful place in the 97 Red Army?

You see Harrison, your stablemates have options.

You don’t.

You said you would do anything to keep a title you didn’t win, but when presented with an opportunity to win one on your own you do worse than the guy you won your first singles championship from.

You say Darin Zion annoys you, but you fucking annoying me with all your self hype and other bullshit you spout.

“The Miracle Man will prove his greatness again.”


You have to be great in the first place to be great again.

The only thing you’ve done in HOW that was great was getting injured and we didn’t have to see your ass for a very long time. You almost proved your greatness again though with you getting your ribs cracked, but like the cockroach that you are you couldn’t go away.

You see Harrison; there are always certainties in life.

  1. GOD will live forever.
  2. The Highwaymen will be another forgotten stable when they fail again at the Altar of Best.
  3. GOD’s confidence in me to exterminate the Fisher Price trash that has come to plague His garden of paradise.

Harrison, this Sunday when you enter the House of Best, I’ll take you to bible study to remind you of your beginnings, the commandments you vowed to uphold, and the end is when you’re looking up at the lights in the Mabee Center. Harrison will experience a game changer when he realizes he doesn’t have someone helping him win a match anymore.

Remember Harrison, if you aren’t 97 Red you’re 97 Dead.

Think about it.