Scott stands in a far room of his Germantown home. When he bought the house, he had planned from the beginning on using one of the spare rooms to display all his former championships. Utilizing glass display cases he had set up stands in each individual section to hold his titles. NCW had closed. It was not shortly afterwards that he had been signed to Supreme Championship Wrestling.
Of course, he had not been formally put into a match. But, there was an open battle royal match at the pay per view in Gainesville, Florida. Anyone that won would get a number one contendership at any title he chose. Scott just wasn’t sure he wanted to enter that.
There it all was before him. A platinum title, tag team titles, hardcore titles all assembled in this room. But, what was the point now? What was there left to prove? What is the point?
NCW was supposed to be the finale, the last rodeo. The closing of NCW wasn’t just another company closing, not to Scott. It was the closing of an opportunity. The opportunity to prove that he could still climb to the top of the company. He could enter the battle royal and get a number one contender shot. He was going to be there anyways. He would just decide later.
A couple weeks later at a compound outside of Jacksonville, Florida
The compound has a large wire fence around the multiple acre lot with a small green building in the front. Around the back area Scott Stonewall was standing shirtless with a barbell sitting in front of him on the ground. Just past the barbell is a stand up, full body, mirror. Bending his knees Scott grabs the barbell with both hands bringing it to waist level before switching his hand placement and pushing it up and up over his head before switching his hand placement again and lowering the barbell to his waist before carefully placing it back down again. He repeated the process eleven more times. As Scott places the barbell back down the eleventh time he steps away from the mirror and the barbell.
No one is around. Most of the guys had gone to get supplies for the next few weeks but some had regular jobs they did. For at least a few more hours it was just Scott Stonewall. Scott began pacing to catch his breath before he began the next set. He stared at the man in the mirror.
Scott struck a few poses to emphasize his biceps before standing up straight to show his four pack. But, it was undeniable that sitting over those muscles was old stretched out skin.
‘How much longer can I do this?’ he thought to himself, ‘Others have done it. Granted the mainstream didn’t have many but there were some who not only entered the ring but were still a legitimate threat. One that only ceased recently because of a sudden case of death was Gypsy Joe. That old fuck was a badass from the time he laced up a pair of wrestling boots.’
“Hey old man some guys with cameras and a white van are outside the gate.”
Scott turned from the mirror to look at the man, Blue. Blue was an older guy that almost looked like he could pass for a double of Sam Elliott. Of course, Blue had more like the Sam Elliott in Roadhouse look with the wiry hair and lean body but the hair was more gray than white and not as thick. His skin is also a bit more stretched out.
“Yeah they are probably the camera crew from S-C-W.” Scott explains “Let them in”
Blue nods and walks away
“And how the fuck you going to call me old man when you are a decade older than me you fucking dinosaur?”
“Yeah but I don’t look like a steroid injected, glassless, tattooed George Burns” Blue replies without even turning around.
Scott chuckles before going back to the weights.
Almost ten minutes later
A white van with Starstruck Championship Wrestling written on the side pulls up. The driver gets out and another guy comes out of the sliding door. The two men walk over to Scott.
“Would you prefer a mini microphone?”
Several minutes later after testing the camera equipment.
Scott is sitting on a workout bench on the concrete behind the building of the compound. Scott has a toboggan hat on over his head, his shirt is black with a battle axe in the upper right corner with a nordic dragon wrapped around it. On the right shoulder of the shirt is a nordic ship with a dragon helm. On the back of the shirt is a viking warrior with his axe and shield with a nordic dragon behind him. Above the warrior are the words: “When my time comes I will sing my death song” and below the warrior are the words: “and die like a warrior going home” His pants are military style tactical pants tucked into black combat boots. Scott doesn’t even bother to stand up but sneers as he looks at the camera before turning away and then turning back.
Scott Stonewall: Lotta folk been runnin’ they mouth…
He stands up and walks towards the camera.
Scott Stonewall: These mother fuckin sorry sons of bitches assumed that I going to enter this rumble just because I am signed with S-C-W
Spitting in disgust he continues
Scott Stonewall: So, lemme clear up some thangs. First of all as it concerns my lil’ buddy Fathi…
Scott gets his face up on the camera lens.
Scott Stonewall: Call me Islamaphobic, homophobic, misogynist because I hate the religion of Islam and left wing radical communist left wing mother fuckers BUT Fathi is not just my student and a friend but despite his personal views and his religious views he has SOUTHERN blood running through his veins so while he has not contacted me yet I can guaran-fucking-tee that if he asks me to come to ringside to put those Empire bitches in their place I will be there like a Sunday dinner.
The camera turns to face a different side and Scott turns slightly to remain facing the camera but backs up a little bit as he continues.
Scott Stonewall: Now for those of you new bitches touting Empire talking about how badass they are like Creed, Dario, Stalker and whoever the fuck else you better back the fuck up when it comes to me. While I may not have been in it for very long I was one of the first to ever roll under the Empire banner back in 2007. When I realized them mother fuckers had no interest in their members but it was all about holding Brian up I stepped out but not before laying Brian’s ass out in the locker room with a boot to the face. Now I ain’t gonna lie and say I didn’t take a beatdown courtesy of Empire after that because I did. But, if Empire makes their way to that ring to help Tyler and jump my southern brother Fathi I swear on my momma’s grave I will be coming there and I DON’T fight fair. I WILL be bringing axe handles, brass knuckles, chain and anything else I can think of.
Turning again the camera now faces from the left. Scott accommodates
Scott Stonewall: As for this rumble, I wasn’t sure before but now that Cortes and misses Creed wanna put my name in they mouth I will be coming. I know my big ass is going to be a target. Creed was right when she said that.
Scott’s face reddens and the veins in his neck begin to bulge.
Scott Stonewall: SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT MOTHER FUCKERS!!!!
He rips his shirt off and the camera man back up the camera as Scott continues.
Scott Stonewall: Take a good luck at the scars, the tears and cuts and bullet holes.
The camera zooms in on the chest of Scott showing what appears to be a sealed bullet hole in his right shoulder, a large incision like tear along his middle chest, several scars that have healed over each other and appears to be old stab wounds. Backing up the camera refocuses on the face of Scott as he resumes
Scott Stonewall: I may be sixty seven years old. I may be one of the oldest men to still be active in professional wrestling. But, this is the twenty-first century, medicine has improved and I am in better shape than I have ever been in. I have been stabbed, shot, cut open and more over the years and that DOESN’T include what I did IN the ring! I am not delusional. I know the chance of a big man winning this thing is next to nil. But, that don’t mean I ain’t fixin’ to put my whole being into it. I am going to fuck up every son of a bitch that comes to that ring and I am going to make it a personal point to break as many bones, and ligaments as I can for anyone from Empire and that has NOTHING to do with Fathi. This is my chance to get even mother fuckers.
Scott moves closer to the camera.
Scott Stonewall: Let me summarize this shit for you. Every life is a book. We all have our own story to tell and let’s face it I am not exactly in the climax. Rather I am in the conclusion of my story but that is still bad news for every piece of shit that wants to stand in my way because my book isn’t titled Life of Scott Stonewall. My book is titled Ass kicking by Scott Stonewall and you mother fuckers not only ain’t a chapter. You mother fuckers won’t even make a fuckin’ sentence, a conjunction before I move on to the rest of the sentence and if you don’t like that…
He pauses and smiles before continuing.
Scott Stonewall: ….GUESS WHAT? I DON’T GIVE A FUCK!
Scott then spits on the camera lens.
The scene fades out as the spit rolls down the screen.
- None Found