Latest Roleplays
Brown Bear, Brown Bear…
…what do you see?
I see a Red Nosed, Bobbing Scottywood clucking at me. He has pale cirrhosis colored skin, cornrows for feathers, and wears a cut without ever owning a motorcycle.
That’s a Red Nosed Scottywood, but is it the once famed, majestic Yellow Tail?
He enjoys trips down Memory Lane, although these trips frequently derail onto Dementia Drive. He’s been a pillar of High Octane Wrestling for the last twelve years, carrying it into foreclosure or remote hacking whenever the occasion should arise. Recently, he started a HATE group that everyone HATED for all the wrong reasons, and he’s never won a championship in the current, still going on, Refueled Era.
That’s him alright.
“I don’t know who he thinks he is fooling– like I haven’t been around to see it. He isn’t a boogeyman. He isn’t even a ghost in a bloody sheet. He’s a fucking turkey, and I’m going to pluck his feathers on Saturday night and place the best one in my second round, Denucci Cup cap.” — Cancer “Belle of the Ball” Jiles when asked about what fashion trends he’s anticipating in 2021.
—
Okay Scotty.
Playtime’s over.
So is 2012.
And so is your Denucci Cup.
I wrestled in 21 matches last year. Multiple Main Events. I competed for the Tag Titles, the LSD Title, and even got a crack at the World Title. I moved the needle with a piece of cardboard. I put barb wire HATE sticks out of business and eGGs back in the good, profitable graces of HOW’s grocer’s aisle.
You. The PILLAR. Well, you lost to the guy who beat me for the title– that “worthless pikey fuck,” you called him. And you got locked inside a cell so you couldn’t compete at March 2 Glory.
That’s it, pal.
That’s your pillar of a year.
But hey, what’s one year when compared to the other eleven? Other than it being the most recent and similarly downtrodden to the one you had before it.
Clown.
What else was there, Pizmo? Was it me winning the tag titles and becoming a double champion while doing nothing during my LSD Championship reign? Hmmm. Nope. That wasn’t it. Not only did that actually happen, but it also happened in this era so it wouldn’t be something you would say or remember.
Honk. Honk.
Red Nosed Scottywood.
Oh, and let’s not forget the casual erasing of… well your career since HOW reopened. It’s almost as if it were a tattoo around someone’s belly button, and then they got it removed and wanted everyone to believe it was never there.
Oh.
Wait.
My bad.
“It’s easy to boast when you’re standing atop an ant hill. Do it from atop a mountain, when there’s no blood on your face and the rest of the world can hear you. Maybe people will listen to what you have to say then.” — Cancer Jiles when asked about Scottywood’s most recent endeavor.
—
Just think, bud.
If it’s your time you can now walk around with your chin up knowing that the diligent wasting of the last two years of your pillar-like career weren’t for nothing.
Kudos, I guess?
And who knows, right? Maybe. I doubt it. But, maybe this is it and your luck’s finally going to change. Maybe the stars have aligned and finally the moon shines brightly down upon you like it did on me just a few months ago. Using Scotty logic, it’s 2021, and the last time those four numbers made up the year of our Lord you were the longest reigning HOFC Champion.
Just saying.
Not to mention, it’s poor, little, took six people to eliminate him at ICONIC like he’s some seven foot, five hundred pound man, Cancer Jiles you’re facing. A former double champion and known Mongoloid slayer who will no doubt buckle from the immense pressure you so deftly apply.
HA.
You’re fucked.
Pucker.
Kiss.
Goodbye.
“I’m going to skin Jiles alive and replant my Hardcore flag up his COOL, worthless ass. Fucking toxic loser who hasn’t done anything, ever. Fuck him. I’m the longest reigning HOFC Champion. Not him. Granted, I was ten years younger then, and that was roughly about a million Untapped reviews ago. But still. I’m the man. I’m the bone breaker. I’m the Artisan of Hardcore, and I don’t care if everyone uses my blood to paint with nowadays! I’m a pillar for a reason, dammit! Somebody warn Mike.” — Probably Scottywood at some point tomorrow.