Private: GREAT SCOTT
HI GUYS IT’S ME YOUR FRIEND SCOTT, I HOPE YOU ARE HAVING A GREAT DAY. ME I HAVE BEEN BETTER IF I AM BEING HONEST WITH YOU. TWO WEEKS AGO I HAD MY HEART AND MY IDENTITY STOLEN AND NOW I DO NOT HAVE ANY MONEY AND I CANNOT EVEN AFFORD TO BUY A SANDWICH OR OLIVE GARDEN. ALL OF MY BREADSTICKS ARE LIMITED NOW AND MY SOUP IS NOT BOTTOMLESS AND ALSO IT IS JUST WHATEVER SOUP I CAN GET FROM THE SOUP HOUSE WITH ALL THE OTHER HOMELESS PEOPLE.
I NEED A HOUSE REAL BAD GUYS.
I GUESS I JUST DO NOT UNDERSTAND. ALL MY LIFE I HAVE TRIED REAL HARD TO BE A GOOD GUY AND A GREAT PERSON SO I DO NOT KNOW WHY THIS IS HAPPENING TO ME. IT IS VERY HARD TO KEEP MY CHIN UP AND BE A POSITIVE SCOTT BUT I AM DOING MY BEST NOT JUST FOR THE FANS BUT ALSO FOR GREAT BEAR BECAUSE WHEN I AM SAD HE GETS SAD AND HE IS NOT A PANDA SO HE SHOULD NEVER BE SAD HE IS MY BEST FRIEND AND HONESTLY I THINK HE IS MY ONLY FRIEND.
NOT A LOT OF PEOPLE UNDERSTAND ME.
SURE PEOPLE LAUGH AT MY PROMOS BUT THEY ARE SERIOUS PROMOS AND I AM A SERIOUS WRESTLER I AM NOT JUST A JOKE. IT IS HARD TO ALWAYS BE LAUGHED AT WHEN YOU ARE NOT A STAND UP COMEDIAN. I THINK THAT IS WHY IT HAS ALWAYS BEEN MY DREAM FOR OVER ONE MONTH NOW TO BECOME THE IMPULSE CHAMPION OF PRIMETIME BECAUSE THEN MAYBE PEOPLE WILL SEE THAT I AM NOT A JOKE.
BUT IT IS NOT ALL BAD NEWS.
THE GOOD NEWS IS THAT MELVIN READ MY LETTER AND HE PUT ME IN A MATCH FOR A TITLE SHOT AT THE SUPERSHOW. I KNOW I REALLY WANTED THE IMPULSE TITLE BUT MELVIN SAW SOMETHING DIFFERENT FOR ME AND I THINK HE IS LOOKING OUT FOR ME BECAUSE HE MAYBE GAVE ME SOMETHING EVEN BETTER.
A SHOT AT THE STAR OF DAVID TITLE.
IN CASE YOU DIDN’T KNOW MY SHOOT NAME IS SCOTT GRATESBURGH AND HAVING A CHANCE TO FIGHT FOR THE STAR OF DAVID CHAMPIONSHIP IS A VERY BIG DEAL TO ME. IT IS A CHANCE TO NOT ONLY MAKE THE BIG TIME AND STOP BEING A JOKE BUT ALSO TO SHARE MY FAITH WITH THE WORLD AND SHOW EVERYONE THAT YOU CAN BE THE CHAMPION EVEN IF YOU DO NOT EAT HAM OR BELIEVE THAT JESUS CHRIST IS THE REAL SON OF GOD. NO OFFENSE TO ANYONE JESUS WAS A VERY COOL GUY I JUST BELIEVE SOMETHING DIFFERENT IT IS NOT YAHWEH OR THE HIGHWAY.
ANYWAY AND THIS IS A SHOOT GREAT GRANDPA CAME TO THIS COUNTRY FROM POLAND TO ESCAPE THE NAZIS DURING THE EXTRA NOT GREAT WORLD WAR BECAUSE THERE WAS A MAN THERE WITH AN EXTRA EVIL MUSTACHE AND GREAT GRANDPA HAD A VERY SAD TATTOO THAT I DID NOT UNDERSTAND UNTIL I WAS OLDER. SINCE HE DIED WHEN THE MAFIA ATTACKED HIS HEART I THINK IT IS VERY IMPORTANT THAT I WIN THE STAR OF DAVID TITLE IN HIS HONOR AND FOR JEWISH PEOPLE ALL OVER THE WORLD LIKE MOSES AND JEFF GOLDBLUM. I DO NOT THINK THAT NATE COLTON IS A HEBREW NAME AND BOY THIS MASK OF MALICE GUY HAS A LOT GOING ON.
HONESTLY I DO NOT KNOW WHERE TO START.
FIRST OF ALL I DO NOT LIKE FOOTBALL. LIKE NOT EVEN ONE BIT SO AN EVIL FOOTBALL PLAYER WHO IS TAKEN OVER BY THE DEVIL AND KNOWS KARATE IS NOT GOING IN MY MYSPACE TOP 8 FOR SURE. ALABAMA THE MASK OF MALICE YOU ARE NEVER GOING TO REPLACE TOM I AM SORRY. ALSO I DO NOT LIKE YOUR NOSE CHAIN YOUR NOSE IS NOT A DOG OR AN ANCHOR FOR BOATS SO PLEASE TAKE IT OFF IT BOTHERS ME ON AN EXISTENTIAL LEVEL AND YES THAT IS A WORD I LEARNED AND I AM USING IT THE RIGHT WAY.
ALSO YOUR MASK IS TOO SMALL FOR YOUR BODY AND YOUR HEAD IS TOO SMALL FOR YOUR BODY AND WHY ARE YOUR NIPPLES THE SAME SIZE AS YOUR MOUTH HOLE. YOU HAVE TOO MANY THINGS GOING ON WITH YOU MR. ALABAMA IT IS LIKE THERE WAS A GIMMICK SALE AND ALL THE GIMMICKS WERE 50% OFF AND YOU SAID YES I WILL TAKE THEM ALL PLEASE AND NOW YOU WEAR THEM ALL LIKE A MAN WITH TOO MANY HATS ON A VERY SMALL HEAD. I AM NOT BODY SHAMING BUT PLEASE STOP HAVING A WEIRD BODY AND A WEIRD SMALL HEAD. DEVIL FOOTBALL KARATE CAN NEVER TRIUMPH OVER BEING A GREAT PERSON AND IF YOU THINK YOUR FINISHING MOVE IS GOING TO SEND ME STRAIGHT TO HECK YOU ARE WRONG SIR.
MY PEOPLE DO NOT EVEN CALL IT HELL WE CALL IT SHEOL AND IT IS HIT OR MISS IF WE EVEN BELIEVE IN IT. YOU CAN NOT SEND ME SOMEPLACE I DO NOT BELIEVE IN THAT IS LIKE ME SAYING I AM GOING TO SEND YOU TO THE WORLD OF HAVING A NORMAL SIZED HEAD. ANYWAY NOW I AM DONE TALKING ABOUT YOU BECAUSE I AM HAVING ANOTHER EXISTENTIAL CRISIS MORE TROUBLING THAN BEATING A BAD GUY WITH A LOT OF GIMMICKS. AT GREAT AMERICAN NIGHTLIGHT I HAVE TO DO SOMETHING I HAVE NEVER REALLY DONE BEFORE.
I HAVE TO FIGHT A GOOD GUY.
MELVIN I AM VERY CONFUSED I DO NOT UNDERSTAND. NATE COLTON HAS A VERY SMOOTH FACE AND NO MUSTACHE. HE IS VERY WHOLESOME AND AN OVERALL SWELL GUY AND HE DOES NOT WEAR AN EVIL MASK OR DO DEVIL FOOTBALL KARATE. IN FACT AS FAR AS I KNOW HE HAS NEVER DONE ANYTHING MEAN IN HIS WHOLE LIFE I BET HE WOULD LET ME SLEEP ON HIS COUCH IF I ASKED.
ACTUALLY YES NATE CAN I PLEASE SLEEP ON YOUR COUCH?
I AM CURRENTLY HOMELESS IF YOU DIDN’T KNOW.
I DO NOT LIKE THAT I HAVE TO FIGHT A GOOD GUY I WILL BE HONEST WITH YOU. IT MAKES ME FEEL GROSS IN MY STOMACH AND MY CONSCIENCE. BUT THIS IS THE STAR OF DAVID TITLE SO I AM SORRY NATE COLTON BUT WE HAVE TO FIGHT AT GREAT AMERICAN NIGHTCLUB OR ELSE I WILL NOT GET THE BE THE CHAMPION OF MY PEOPLE. I THINK WE SHOULD MAKE A DEAL WHERE WE TRY TO ONLY FIGHT ALABAMA THE TINY MASK AND NOT PUNCH EACH OTHER TOO MUCH SINCE WE ARE BOTH BABYFACES WHAT DO YOU THINK? I WOULD PREFER NOT TO GIVE YOU A SCOTTACANRANA BECAUSE IT IS VERY DEVASTATING.
ANYWAY I HAVE TO GO NOW BECAUSE IT IS GOING TO BE A VERY BUSY WEEK OF ME TRYING TO FIND A PLACE TO LIVE AND FOOD TO EAT. SO MAYBE I WILL SEE YOU AFTER A STORY ABOUT MY LIFE IT REALLY DEPENDS IF THE SOUP KITCHEN HAS A PHONE CHARGER I CAN USE. HAVE A GREAT DAY EVERYONE ESPECIALLY NATE COLTON BUT IF YOU HAVE A SMALL HEAD AND A DEMON KARATE FOOTBALL HELMET YOU CAN SERIOUSLY GO FUCK YOURSELF MAN.
Under A Bridge
Somewhere In Las Vegas
It’s a beautiful, sunny day in Nevada.
And by beautiful and sunny, I mean that the sun is bearing down in near-thermonuclear fashion onto the head of our hero, GREAT SCOTT, as he struggles to find some shade amidst the piss-ridden underbelly of a Las Vegas overpass. The only thing stronger than the smell of urine is his drive to no longer be homeless, but for today, the future number one contender to the Five Star Championship is a little bit busy dragging a mattress toward the shade.
GREAT SCOTT: SOMETIMES I FEEL LIKE I DON’T HAVE A PARTNER.
I cannot be clear enough when I say that GREAT SCOTT has never even heard of the Red Hot Chili Peppers.
GREAT SCOTT: SOMETIMES I FEEL LIKE MY ONLY FRIEND IS THIS BEAR THAT I LIVE WITH THIS BEAR WHO’S NAMED GREAT BEAR. LONELY AS I AM, TOGETHER WE VIBE.
He glances over at his longtime compatriot, GREAT BEAR, who is absolutely not helping his pal move the mattress. What is he doing, you may ask? Well, he’s hanging out in the shade of the underpass, vibing to low-fi tunes on his sweet Beats by Dre headphones. GREAT SCOTT isn’t angry, though– he’s glad to see that his furry friend is no longer overheating in the Vegas sun. He is, after all, a full grown bear covered in fur, who cannot possibly labor in the midday heat
With a heave, GREAT SCOTT tosses the mattress into the shade, on top of a broken box spring that he found nearby. This would absolutely be better than sleeping on the ground, which he did last night after being told that while it’s fun to stay at the YMCA, it is not permissible if you are accompanied by a six foot five apex predator.
GREAT SCOTT: I AM SORRY THAT I GAVE MY FULL SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER TO A CATFISH ON TINDER GREAT BEAR. THIS IS NOT THE LIFE I WANTED FOR YOU.
Prime Wrestling’s most wholesome weirdo drops flat on his back, sinking into the mattress. And by sinking in, I mean stabbing himself directly in the spine with an errant spring poking through the material.
GREAT SCOTT: WELL THAT WASN’T GREAT.
He lets out a long sigh, looking over at GREAT BEAR. For the first time in their history together, GREAT BEAR stops vibing and lumbers over toward his friend. The mammoth predator drops down onto his furry butt, leaning his head over and resting it on the meaty thigh of GREAT SCOTT.
GREAT BEAR: ROAR.
Taking a deep breath, SCOTT softly rubs the head of his best friend, scratching him behind the ears and doing his best not to cry. It has been quite the fortnight since we last saw our hero, and he has lost a lot more than his identity. Human dignity, self-respect, these things are more valuable than money. More precious than some stupid iPhone, or a very long limosine. GREAT SCOTT could live without the money, but being repeatedly shit upon by an unforgiving God? And at the expense of his GREATEST friend in the world?
Why was this all happening?
GREAT SCOTT: I AM SO SORRY GREAT BEAR. I AM GOING TO FIX ALL OF THIS. I KEEP TELLING MELVIN’S VOICEMAIL THAT I NEED SOME MONEY TO BUY YOU SOME FISH AND HONEY AND A CHARGER FOR YOUR HEADPHONES BUT HE MUST BE BUSY BECAUSE HE HAS NOT CALLED ME BACK. I HOPE HE DID NOT ACCIDENTALLY GIVE HIS SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER TO A PERSON ON TINDER TOO THAT WOULD NOT BE GREAT.
The mighty bear nuzzles his head under the arm of GREAT SCOTT, trying to help cheer him up. In the end, GREAT BEAR doesn’t really care where they sleep– he’s literally a bear. Still, he doesn’t like seeing his friend all choked up and also they’re both starting to smell pretty bad.
GREAT BEAR: …ROAR.
It’s a sad roar. Kind of like Eeyore but if Eeyore could beat you to death with your own arms if you provoked him or were menstruating at a campsite.
Overhead, tractor trailers and high speed sedans zip over the highway, the roar and rush of afternoon traffic echoing across the cement walls of the overpass. It’s hard to imagine being able to sleep in a place like this, but if Anthony Kiedis could do it while tripping out on heroin, our hero might just make it out of this in one piece.
GREAT SCOTT: I KNOW THIS ALL SEEMS NOT GREAT BUT MELVIN BELIEVES IN US GREAT BEAR. HE DOES NOT CARE IF WE HAVE A REAL TOILET OR IF WE HAVE TO USE THE LITTLE CREEK AT THIS OVERPASS TO DO OUR NUMBER TWOS. WHEN I ASKED HIM IF HE WAS SERIOUS ABOUT ME GETTING A SHOT AT A TITLE SHOT HE SAID “HEY DOES A BEAR SHIT IN THE WOODS” AND I SAID NO NOT RIGHT NOW. RIGHT NOW GREAT BEAR DOES NUMBER TWO UNDER HIS OVERPASS AND HE STILL BOOKED THE MATCH SO I KNOW HE HAS FAITH IN US.
His stomach rumbles.
It’s been a minute since he had something to eat.
Considering he needs about twelve thousand calories a day to support how swole and wholesome he is, not eating for a day and a half is akin to complete starvation.
GREAT SCOTT: I DON’T KNOW HOW WE ARE GOING TO GET OUT OF THIS ONE GREAT BEAR BUT I AM GOING TO DO IT. I OWE YOU THAT MUCH. YOU TOLD ME NOT TO GIVE OUT MY PERSONALLY IDENTIFIABLE FINANCIAL INFORMATION TO WOMEN ON THE INTERNET AND I DID NOT LISTEN. SO I NEED TO WIN THE STAR OF DAVID TITLE AND GET LOTS OF SPONSORSHIPS AND GET A RAISE FROM MELVIN SO THAT YOU CAN LIVE A GOOD LIFE. I DON’T EVEN CARE IF WE ONLY HAVE A ONE BEDROOM APARTMENT I WILL SLEEP ON THE FLOOR AND YOU CAN HAVE THE BED. YOU ARE MY BEST FRIEND AND MY ONLY FRIEND AND I–
A face full of emotion, GREAT SCOTT is stopped mid-monologue by a voice that he has not heard in a very long time. A voice that brings hope. A voice that brings faith. A voice that brings two full Burger King bags full of burgers and some fries that are a little bit cold but are still better than trying not to get caught digging through the In N Out dumpster after they close, and being told that the police will be called if they don’t leave the property immediately.
The voice of an ally.
VOICE: Your only friend, Scott?
His back to the sun, all six foot ten inches of the man are seemingly wrapped in a heavenly halo, though it’s hard to say how he’d feel about being described that way. Wisps of graying black hair flow in a breeze that didn’t exist a moment ago, as though the wind was welcoming him to the overpass. Dark circles hang beneath his eyes in a supernatural permanence, his face a wrinkled mess of wisdom and divorce.
GREAT SCOTT: HOLY SHIT IT’S MORTY THE MORTICIAN.
But it isn’t just Morty the Mortician.
Hard Knox. Rhett Khan. Gray Tongueman, DDS. The So Cal Justice Warriors. A legion of GREAT SCOTT’s former allies and associates from SIXTIME ACADEMY step out from behind the hulking shadow of Morty the Mortician, each holding a Burger King bag of their own, full to the brim with delicious burgers. GREAT SCOTT’s eyes well up with tears, as he rushes toward Morty and throws his arms around the midsection of pro wrestling’s darkest Dark Lord, gripping him tightly in a hug.
MORTY THE MORTICIAN: Greetings, Scott Gratesburgh. Dry your mortal eyes and behold the beautiful bounty of burgers before you. By our coupons combined, tonight you shall eat like a king. Like a… Burger… King… HNNGH.
His voice is low and growly, like a man who should have retired a few years ago but just keeps coming back once a year for a match that no one asked for. GREAT SCOTT gratefully accepts the fast food bags from Morty, tossing the first two over to his main man GREAT BEAR. They hastily assemble the buffett of fried foods, unwrapping burger after burger and barreling through broiled meats.
MORTY THE MORTICIAN: You have fallen far, GREAT SCOTT. Penniless and without hope. We are here not only to nourish your body, but to nourish your mind. HNNGH. To build you up again, as you built me up when Susan kicked me out of the lair and stole my dog.
GREAT SCOTT: SUSAN WAS THE WORST.
MORTY THE MORTICIAN: Indeed she was. But you, Scott Gratesburgh. You are the best of us. Each of us assembled here today has been uplifted and redeemed by your unending charity, wholesomeness, and sometimes irritating positivity, and we have gathered here today to make you whole once more, as you have done for each of us. Especially me, Scott. Seriously man, fuck Susan, she really fucked my whole vibe up for awhile there. BUT NO MORE! WE ARE WHOLE, AND SO TO SHALL YOU BE! FROM OVERPASS TO PASSOVER! YOU, GREAT SCOTT….
The eyes of GREAT SCOTT glisten in the sunlight, as tears roll down his face. Even the usually stoic GREAT BEAR, who is now back to vibing to low-fi tunes on his sweet Beats by Dre headphones, seems to be vibing with some emotion this time.
He wipes a paw against his eye… probably just some dust in the air.
MORTY THE MORTICIAN: …SHALL BE STAR OF DAVID CHAMPION!
HI GUYS IT’S ME AGAIN GREAT SCOTT.
I JUST WANTED TO CHECK IN AND LET YOU KNOW THAT I DON’T HAVE TO POOP UNDER THE OVERPASS ANYMORE. MORTY THE MORTICIAN IS LETTING ME AND GREAT BEAR HANG OUT AT THE LAIR WITH HIM WHILE I GET BACK ON MY FEET. IT’S A GOOD THING TOO BECAUSE I REALLY BURG’D THE HELL OUT AND MY NUMBER TWOS ARE LIKE NUMBER THREES RIGHT NOW. ANYWAY ENOUGH ABOUT NUMBER TWOS BECAUSE I AM GOING TO BE NUMBER ONE AND I AM FEELING REIGNITED NOW THAT I AM NOT SLEEPING ON A PEE SOAKED MATTRESS THAT I FOUND OUTSIDE OF A MOTEL SIX.
PLUS HE HAD AN EXTRA PHONE CHARGER WHICH WAS GREAT.
LOOK I KNOW THAT MORTY IS A DARK LORD AND HE HAS A MUSTACHE BUT HE IS MY FRIEND OKAY. HE IS NOT A BAD GUY HE IS JUST VERY DARK AND IF YOU THINK SOMEONE BEING DARK MAKES THEM BAD THEN YOU ARE A RACIST AND YOU DESERVE A SCOTTACANRANA. MORTY AND THE GANG HAVE REMINDED ME THAT WITH TRUE FRIENDSHIP YOU CAN ACHIEVE ANYTHING AND AT GREAT AMERICAN NIGHTCOURT I WILL BECOME THE PRIMETIME WRESTLING STAR OF DAVID CHAMPION. BECAUSE I HAVE FRIENDS WHO LOVE ME. BECAUSE GREAT BEAR SUPPORTS ME. BECAUSE GARY TONGUEMAN SAID THAT PHIL ATKEN MIGHT SHOW ME SOME REALLY COOL SUPLEXES THAT I DON’T KNOW AND THAT IS GREAT BECAUSE I THOUGHT I ALREADY KNEW ALL THE SUPLEXES.
BECAUSE IT IS MY HEBREW DESTINY.
SO DON’T WORRY ABOUT ME GUYS. MORTY IS A MUCH DARKER LORD THAN ALABAMA THE MASK OF MAYONNAISE AND HE IS GOING TO TALK TO THE FOOTBALL DEVIL AND SEE IF HE CAN MAKE ALABAMA MORTAL FOR ONE NIGHT JUST TO HELP ME OUT. AND MORTY EXPLAINED TO ME THAT IT IS OKAY TO BEAT UP NATE COLTON AND GIVE HIM A SCOTTACANRANA IF I HAVE TO BECAUSE IT TURNS OUT THAT THIS IS OUR JOB AND WE AREN’T JUST FIGHTING A BATTLE OF GOOD AND EVIL OUT THERE EVERY SINGLE WEEK.
BUT STILL FUCK EVIL THOUGH.
ANYWAY I HOPE THAT YOU ALL HAVE A GREAT DAY. I REALLY DO MEAN THAT. EVEN ALADDIN THE MASK OF MALPRACTICE AND NATE COLTON. I KNOW EARLIER I SAID THAT YOU COULD FUCK YOURSELF BUT I WAS JUST HUNGRY AND SAD AND IT WAS NOT RIGHT OF ME TO SAY THAT YOU SHOULD ONLY FUCK YOURSELF IF THAT’S WHAT YOU REALLY WANT TO DO. I HAVE TO GO NOW BECAUSE I SMELL LIKE I HAVE BEEN SLEEPING UNDER AN OVERPASS FOR A COUPLE OF WEEKS NOW AND THAT ISN’T GREAT AND MORTY SAYS I LITERALLY SMELL LIKE DEATH AND TRUST ME HE WOULD KNOW HE IS LITERALLY THE DARK LORD OF THE UNDEAD.
OKAY SEE YOU ALL AT AFRICAN AMERICAN NIGHTMARE GOODBYE.
PS: STILL FUCK YOURSELF AL BUNDY THE MOOSE OF MALICE I CHANGED MY MIND.