Private: GREAT SCOTT
HI GUYS IT’S ME GREAT SCOTT.
FIRST OFF I WANNA SAY IT’S REALLY GREAT THAT FINALLY GREAT SCOTT HAS COME TO PRIME. IT HAS BEEN A LONG TIME COMING BUT MGM TOOK OUT A SECOND MORTGAGE ON HIS HOUSE SO THAT HE COULD PAY ME LOTS AND LOTS OF MONEY AND NOW I AM A MAN WHO WORKS HERE SO THAT IS GREAT.
BUT ANYWAY THAT IS ALL IN THE PAST AND GREAT SCOTT IS ALL ABOUT THE FUTURE BECAUSE THE FUTURE HAS FLYING CARS AND PROBABLY A LOT OF NEW FLAVORS OF MOUNTAIN DEW. REVIVAL 7 IS THE FUTURE RIGHT NOW THOUGH AND AT REVIVAL 7 I AM FACING MORTIMER DARJEELING IN MY DEBUT MATCH AT PRIMETIME WRESTLING. THIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT MATCH OF MY CAREER BECAUSE IF I WIN THIS MATCH PLUS A LOT OF OTHER MATCHES THEY WILL MAKE ME THE CHAMPION. AND THAT WOULD BE GREAT.
BUT THERE IS SOMETHING FISHY ABOUT MORTIMER.
I DO NOT MEAN THAT HE IS A TROUT PLEASE DO NOT THINK I WOULD JUST CALL SOMEONE A TROUT ALL WILLY NILLY. I MEAN IT LIKE HE SEEMS SUSPICIOUS. I KNOW MY WHOLE NAME ITS GREAT SCOTT AND I KNOW THAT MY HOMETOWN IS THE GREATER METRO AREA OF GREAT FALLS. IT IS VERY WEIRD THAT MORTIMER STRUGGLES WITH THIS BASIC INFORMATION. I THINK HE IS PROBABLY IN THE MAFIA AND THEN HE KILLED A LOT OF HORSES AND USED THEIR HEADS TO INTIMIDATE PEOPLE AND NOW HE IS IN WITNESS PROTECTION FROM THE HORSE POLICE. KILLING HORSES ISN’T GREAT BUT ITS TRUE, HIS NAME IS AN ANAGRAM FOR KILLER IF YOU IGNORE SOME LETTERS AND ADD AN L.
AND THIS WEEK I’M GONNA ADD AN L TO HIS NAME.
BECAUSE I AM GOING TO BEAT HIM.
AS EVERYONE KNOWS GREAT SCOTT IS A BIG ANIMAL LOVER THAT IS WHY I HAVE A BEAR NAMED GREAT BEAR. AND A HORSE AND A BEAR AREN’T THAT FAR APART SO MAFIA HORSE KILLERS ARE NOT OKAY IN MY BOOK. YOU ARE NOT OKAY SIR SO AT REVIVAL NO WITNESS CAN PROTECT YOU FROM ME DON BORELEONE. PLUS NOT A LOT OF PEOPLE KNOW THIS BUT I WAS RAISED IN AN ORPHANAGE BECAUSE MY PARENTS WERE BOTH MURDERED BY THE MAFIA SO IF THIS MORTIMER WAS IN THE MAFIA HE IS GUILTY BY ASSOCIATION CHECK THE RICO LAWS IT ALL CHECKS OUT.
WHY DID YOU KILL MY PARENTS MORTIMER
WHY
I NEVER GOT TO HAVE A MOM OR A DAD IT WAS JUST A BUNCH OF NUNS WHO HIT ME WITH RULERS ALL THE TIME AND MADE ME SAY SORRY TO JESUS. I NEVER GOT TO PLAY CATCH I HAD TO PLAY CATCH THESE HANDS. I’M SAYING THAT THEY BEAT ME, MORTIMER, AND IT’S ALL BECAUSE YOU HAD TO KILL A BUNCH OF HORSES AND LISTEN TO FRANK SINATRA AND EAT SPAGHETTI ALL THE TIME.I HOPE THE SPAGHETTI WAS WORTH IT BECAUSE ALL MY SPAGHETTI WAS ORPHANAGE SPAGHETTI AND THAT WASN’T GREAT. YOU ARE A BAD PERSON AND AT REVIVAL I AM GOING TO LEAVE YOU SLEEPING WITH THE FISHES BECAUSE THAT’S WHERE YOU BELONG. BECAUSE YOU ARE A TROUT. THERE I SAID IT MORTIMER. YOU ARE A TROUT AND I AM GOING TO BE THE CHAMPION WHEN I BEAT YOU AT REVIVAL OR PROBABLY A FEW MATCHES AFTER THAT.
BUT ANYWAY WHAT ELSE IS NEW
OH I MOVED TO LAS VEGAS. LOGAN’S MOM KEPT MY 41 STORY MANSION AND THERE WAS A BIG CUSTODY BATTLE FOR MY KIDS LUDACRIS AND BEYONCÉ BUT EVERYTHING IS GREAT NOW AND I SEE THEM ON WEEKENDS. I AM BUILDING A NEW HOUSE IN LAS VEGAS WHICH IS 42 STORIES BECAUSE I ALWAYS COMES BACK STRONGER WHEN LIFE BEATS ME DOWN. ANYWAY THATS MY UPDATE HAVE A GREAT DAY.
EXCEPT FOR YOU HORSE KILLER.
I’M GREAT SCOTT AND I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU.
———————
SIX MONTHS AGO
BETTY FORD CLINIC
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS
“We have to get you clean, Scott.”
The words hit like a ton of bricks, echoing through the skull of a man who, on this particular day, feels anything but Great. Scott Gratesburg stands outside a random door at the Hazelden Betty Ford Foundation, staring at the ground with his hands in the pockets of his hooded sweatshirt. The hood is up and closed at the drawstrings, to protect his identity.
You know, because he is very famous.
GREAT SCOTT: I KNOW GREAT GRANDPA, I AM SORRY THAT I LET DOWN OUR FAMILY AND BROUGHT SHAME ON YOU BY GETTING ADDICTED TO NEXT LEVEL CRACK COCAINE. YOU HAVE BEEN A POSITIVE MENTOR TO ME EVER SINCE YOU RESCUED ME FROM THAT ORPHANAGE AFTER MY PARENTS WERE KILLED BY THE MAFIA AND I REALLY SEE HOW MY ACTIONS HAVE HURT OUR LEGACY.
He itches his neck, really jonesing for some of that NEXT LEVEL CRACK COCAINE but knowing that he can’t have it. Not now, and not ever again. Not after the grief that it has inflicted upon GREAT GRANDPA, and the SCOTT family name. He could hardly remember when he started doing crack in the first place, but man, time really has no meaning in a pandemic. He just knew that he had smoked a lot of crack, and that it was time for a change.
GREAT GRANDPA puts a hand on the shoulder of his Great grandson, patting him gently as he pulls him in for a side hug. He has lived a long, mystical life– a wrestling champion in his own right, he was way more famous than Dan Ryan or Impulse back in his day. It’s just that they didn’t have Twitter back then, so he didn’t have anywhere to brag about it. He had always wanted a better life for GREAT SCOTT, but after the murder of his parents… you know, from the mafia… it was just too hard.
He’d run away from the responsibility.
Abandoned his Great grandson. Hid away in Wisconsin, drowning his sorrows in various cheeses and joining a local sect of the Polar Bear Club, just to feel a cold numbness once a year that didn’t come from the center of his Great heart. And then one morning, the air hazy with the scent of a particularly potent cheddar, GREAT GRANDPA awoke with a feeling in his soul that he could run no longer. He had to find his Great grandson. He had to make it right. He had to be the positive influence that he’d always pined to be, and give GREAT SCOTT that life that he’d never had. His dreams for Scott were endless.
And now look at him.
Addicted to NEXT LEVEL CRACK COCAINE.
GREAT GRANDPA: I blame myself, Scott. I should have been there.
GREAT SCOTT: YEAH PROBABLY.
The GREAT ONE grabs the handle of the door, getting ready to walk into rehab to finally kick the NEXT LEVEL CRACK COCAINE once and for all.
GREAT SCOTT: ANYWAY I WILL SEE YOU SOON GREAT GRANDPA I REALLY HOPE THAT WHEN I GET OUT OF HERE IN SIX MONTHS I WON’T FIND OUT THAT YOU DIED WHILE I WAS IN REHAB AND WE NEVER GOT TO SAY GOODBYE. IT WOULD BREAK MY HEART BUT ULTIMATELY REIGNITE MY COMPETITIVE SPIRIT.
He leans in and gives GREAT GRANDPA a side hug of his own, because the nuns back at the orphanage had taught him long ago that the space in between a front hug is how the Devil gets in. They share that one final embrace, and then GREAT SCOTT disappears into the entrance to the Betty Ford Clinic, ready to get clean.
GREAT GRANDPA: Goodbye, Scott. You’re gonna do… great.
———————
SIX MONTHS LATER
IT WAS LAST WEEK ACTUALLY
CHICAGO, IL
“GREAT GRANDPA NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO”
———————
SIX DAYS LATER
WHICH IS TODAY
LAS VEGAS, NEVADA
The Prime Intense Championship.
In all his career, GREAT SCOTT had never won a real championship. Sure, he carried the GREAT SCOTT WRESTLING FEDERATION title around with him, and it was VERY prestigious, but it would be pretty cool to finally hold a title without his name in it. He stares into the display case in the center of the MGM Grand, his fingertips grazing the glass despite warnings to absolutely not do that.
GREAT SCOTT: MY HEART IS BROKEN BUT MY COMPETITIVE SPIRIT IS REIGNITED.
He’d been out of the wrestling world for a long time, between being a father to Ludacris and Beyonce and getting through rehab to finally kick that NEXT LEVEL CRACK COCAINE. But with the custody agreement finally taken care of, and the sudden death of GREAT GRANDPA due to a mafia attack on his heart while he was having breakfast, GREAT SCOTT knew that it was time to get back to where he belonged.
The squared circle.
GREAT SCOTT: THIS TIME IS GONNA BE DIFFERENT, GREAT BEAR.
He looks back at his trusted pal, literally a six foot five bear standing on his hind legs and listening to EDM on his sweet Beats by Dre headphones. GREAT BEAR of course can’t understand him, both on account of the EDM and also because he is a bear. Since he’s nodding his head along to the music, however, GREAT SCOTT just assumes he’s showing him some much needed positivity.
GREAT SCOTT: WE HAVE COME SO FAR GREAT BEAR. THEY SAID THAT I WOULD ALWAYS BE A JOBBER AND NEVER WIN A MATCH BUT THEN I SHOOT BEAT SCOTT STEVENS AND PROVED THEM WRONG. THEY SAID THAT I WOULD NEVER KICK MY ADDICTION TO NEXT LEVEL CRACK COCAINE BUT THEN I DID IT AND PROVED THEM WRONG. NOW THEY’RE SAYING THAT I’LL NEVER BE A SERIOUS WRESTLER OR WIN A BELT WITHOUT MY OWN FACE ON IT BUT THAT INTENSE TITLE IS VACANT AND I WANT IT. I WANT IT SO BADLY. NOT JUST FOR ME BUT FOR GREAT GRANDPA. HIS DEATH HAS TAUGHT ME THAT WITH GREAT POWER COMES GREAT RESPONSIBILITY AND I AM THE FIRST PERSON TO EVER SAY THAT.
He tilts his bottle of Spark raspberry lemonade flavored Mountain Dew, spilling a little bit out onto the floor in honor of GREAT GRANDPA, which is also probably frowned upon in the lobby of the MGM Grand.
GREAT SCOTT: FROM NOW ON, I WILL NOT JUST BE GREAT SCOTT. I WILL BE THE GREATEST SCOTT. MAFIA MORTIMER IS GOING TO GET A SCOTTACANRANA STRAIGHT TO HECK AT REVIVAL AND HE WILL ONLY BE THE FIRST ONE. THEN I WILL BEAT OTHER PEOPLE TOO. AND MARVIN BORRYGUARD WILL HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO SAY HEY GREAT SCOTT YOU ARE VERY INTENSE YOU ARE SO INTENSE THAT YOU SHOULD BE THE CHAMPION OF IT.
He closes his eyes, a smile stretching across his face as he pictures it. Melvin and Lindsay Troy, running toward him in an open field with the championship stretched between them like a banner at the end of a marathon. Great Bear, rocking out to EDM on his sweet Beats by Dre headphones, dancing through the tulips. Ludacris and Beyonce, giving him a Father’s Day gift for the very first time. It’s a beautiful fantasy.
But right now, it is only a fantasy.
Scott’s fingertips fall from the glass, as he slowly turns his eyes away from the championship on display. It was not going to be an easy road to the top. Along the way, he would face people with moves that come from “outta nowhere”, his truest weakness. He would face the temptation of ring rats, dazzled by his luxurious hair. He would face Cancer Jiles, probably, and it would become a whole thing. But the only thing that GREAT SCOTT ever quit was doing all that NEXT LEVEL CRACK COCAINE, and he wasn’t about to quit just because the odds were against him.
GREAT SCOTT: I AM REALLY SERIOUS ABOUT THIS GREAT BEAR. THIS IS HAPPENING. I WANT TO TRY TO BECOME THE FIRST PRIME INTENSE CHAMPION AND I AM GOING TO DO IT FOR MY DEAD GREAT GRANDPA WHO IS NOW THE LATEST IN THE LINE OF A SUSPICIOUS AMOUNT OF MAFIA KILLINGS IN MY IMMEDIATE FAMILY.
The doctor’s said that the mafia didn’t attack GREAT GRANDPA’s heart, and that it was just a regular heart attack, but GREAT SCOTT didn’t believe it for a second. Why would his own heart attack itself? He wasn’t even sad. GREAT GRANDPA was murdered in the heart by the mafia, and in this moment, GREAT SCOTT vowed to avenge him. By beating Mafia Mortimer. By winning the Intense Championship. By probably killing a bunch of mafia guys at some point and really letting this go off the rails.
His fists clench. His jaw tightens.
GREAT SCOTT has returned to wrestling.
He’s going to do… GREAT.