Magness Arena
Denver, Colorado
August 8th 2021
With Episode 36 of MHW Throwdown over and his statement made Skrabal Stanzas made his way to the back of the arena, leaving El Diablo Blanco and "Mad Dog" Mark Wright in the ring. The crowd bood heavily as Skrabal confidently made his way up the ramp with his head held high and arrogance oozing from every pore. He glanced from side to side, taking quick glimpses at the fans in the front rows as he passed by them. Despite the loud boos surrounding him, he noticed a few positive reactions, with some fans loudly shouting "You the man Skrabz!" and "Get 'em champ!" as he walked by. Skrabal took no notice, he just observed and listened as he made his way to the back.
Roughly half way up the ramp Skrabal spotted a young fan in the front row wearing an El Diablo Blanco shirt, with her father crouching down beside her, his arm over her shoulders comforting her as she sobbed. Skrabal didn't stop, he didn't goad her, he just smirked to himself and continued walking up the ramp. On the stage he paused with his back to the ring, then turned around and took one last look out over the crowd of people in attendance, a smug smile of self satisfaction plastered on his face as the majority of fans sent even more boos his way. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose, his chest rose as his lungs filled with air while he took in the crowd reaction.
Upon walking through the curtain he was immediately approached by Abi Rose, who had a microphone in hand and a camera man in tow.
"Skrabal... A lot of people are going to be wondering why you did what you just did. Why did you help El D and Mark Wright? And why did you see fit to Mic Check them immediately after?
"Fam how long you been workin' here? It been a while innit, long enough for you to realise that man like Skrabz ain't help nobody but himself."
"But you evened the numbers, you helped Mark Wright and El D fight off..."
Abi trails off mid sentence as Skrabal shakes his head and walks away.
Skrabal's Motel Room
Denver, Colorado
August 16th 2021
5:45 AM
| Referee Emily Falls counts to three. |
|
| Skrabz stands in the ring with Robert Mack. |
| Gabriel Ohio walks down the ramp. |
| Referee Emily Falls counts to three. |
|
| Skrabz drops Ohio with a Mic Check. |
| Gabriel Ohio laughs. |
| Referee Emily Falls counts to three. |
|
| Gabriel Ohio chokeslams Skrabz through the commentary table. |
| Gabriel Ohio gives Skrabz a Fall From Grace off the roof of a mini van |
| Referee Emily Falls counts to three. |
|
Skrabal sits upright with a jolt, his eyes barely open and still half a sleep. He reaches his right hand towards his bedside table, the sound of glass bottles contacting each over rings out, echoing around his hungover head as he fumbles in the dark. Finally his hand finds his phone and he picks it up, he looks at the screen to check the time. Quarter to six in the morning.
"For fucks sake" he mutters under his breath.
He stands up and stretches before partially opening the curtains, letting in a slither of early morning light. Walking towards the bedroom door he pauses by the mirror and removes the sheet that has been covering it for the past month. For a moment he hesitates, then looks into the mirror starring directly at himself. After a few seconds he notices the sheet on his bed moving and as he turns around he sees a head of black hair poking out from under it, resting on a pillow.
He opens the bedroom door to a state of disarray. Empty beer bottles litter the floor again, plates and dishes are stacked high in the small kitchenette, and the three legged table lays on it's side.
Skrabal sits down on the brown sofa, places his phone on the arm, and takes a joint from the Tupperware box of joints on the floor. He puts it in his mouth and lights it, almost immediately there is a knock at the door. Skrabal sighs and exhales a cloud of smoke at the same time then takes another toke, another knock at the door follows, this one firmer. Skrabal ignores it, favouring instead to remain seated and smoking but his unexpected visitor begins banging furiously on his door.
Skrabal stands up and walks towards the door with purpose, his joint hanging from his mouth, bouncing up and down with each step he takes. He reaches the door and pulls it open quickly. Standing outside is a man, roughly five and a half foot tall, any courage he had seconds ago evaporates in an instant as he looks up at Skrabz.
Skrabal looks down at him and takes a slow draw on his joint.
"Fam it's fuckin' early ya nah. The fuck you want?"
"Is Luci there?"
"Who?"
"Luciana..."
"Who the fuck is Luciana?"
"My girlfriend..."
"Oh seen, seen" Skrabal laughs "Yeah, she might be, come in innit."
Skrabal escorts the man into his run down accommodation and leads him into the bedroom. He pulls back the sheet on his bed, exposing the naked woman still sleeping beneath it.
"That her?" Skrabal asks, turning to the man and looking him in the eye.
"Yeah." He replies, breaking eye contact and setting his gaze on the dirty floor.
"Oi wake up fam." Skrabal says loudly, shaking the bed with his foot. "Time to go innit, your boyfriends here." He tells her with a smug smile.
"W-what's going on here?" The man asks Skrabal.
"Bredda what's your name?" Skrabal asks him.
"Rodrigo..."
"Rodrigo, you see the shit, right? She be sleepin' naked in my bed innit, the fuck you think went on here?"
Rodrigo doesn't answer the question, he just diverts his gaze back to the dirty floor.
"Anyway you found her, now you both need to get the fuck out"
"Babe, come on, lets go home."
"Babe?..." Skrabal shakes his head and laughs before leaving his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He sits back down on the brown sofa and continues toking on his joint.
A few minutes later Luciana and Rodrigo exit his bedroom, making their way towards the door. Rodrigo keeps his eyes firmly on the floor, even as Luciana approaches Skrabal and tries to kiss him.
Skrabal leans back and puts an hand out, holding her away from him.
"Nah fam, I be a lot a tings but I ain't about to cuck the man wit'out his consent... unless he down wit' it then he can pull up a chair." Skrabal tells her with a smile, as he looks at Rodrigo.
"Babe, lets go." Rodrigo pleads.
"I ain't think he down wit' it, time to go." Skrabal says as he pushes her away lightly, sending her back half a step.
Luciana follows Rodrigo towards the door, with Skrabal following behind. Skrabal stands in the doorway smoking his joint as he watches them walk away. After roughly thirty seconds Rodrigo takes Luciana's hand in his and the pair continue walking away hand in hand.
Skrabal laughs and shakes his head.
"Pathetic." He says to himself before heading back inside.
As he sits down back down on the brown sofa he spots a screwed up piece of paper on the floor. He leans forward and picks it up...
"Thanks for a great time. I think.
Anyway I cleaned up for you. It doesn't take long.
Call me!
- Sabby"
Skrabal reads the note written by Sabrina two weeks ago. He looks at it for a moment, then looks at his phone on the arm of the sofa next to him. After a few moments he screws the note up again and throws it back on the floor.
Skrabal's Motel Room
Denver Colorado
August 20th
2:15 AM
The scene opens on a shot of a red eyed Skrabal Stanzas, he lazes on the same old brown sofa, a haze of smoke fills the air as he sits with a joint burning in his right hand a bottle of beer in his left.
The soft sound of bare feet on cheap linoleum flooring can be heard faintly in the background as Skrabal's eyes follow who ever it may be that is walking barefoot across his room.
"That floor filthy ya nah, you better wash them feet before ya get in my bed. They be stinkin'."
"You can wash them for me.." Comes a playful response from out of shot.
"Nah, I ain't wash feet fam, the fuck I look like?"
"I'm heading to the shower."
The sound of a door clicking closed is heard off screen. Skrabal sits in silence, smoking his joint and drinking his beer as the seconds tick by and the video keeps recording
Skrabal finishes his joint and stubs it out, then downs what remains of his beer.
Finally, he looks at the camera.
"Do ya think man Like Skrabz shoulda been included in the number one contender ting?...
He breaks eye contact with the camera and looks around his room, shaking his head.
"That was the question innit, on a fan poll vibe... What was the answer?"
He reaches for another joint from his Tupperware box.
"Resounding no. Standard response."
He puts his joint in his mouth and lights it.
"Ain't nobody wanna see it. Yeah I can tell fam. It be on a Malaysian Airlines ting innit; flight three seven oh vibe... plain to see, ya get me?... I swear I'mma have to start puttin' shit in subtitles for 'em."
He takes a few rapid fire tokes on his joint then reaches down the side of the sofa for a bottle of room temperature beer from his ever present box of beers.
"Crux a the matter is ain't nobody in the seats claim they wanna see man like Skrabz back on top. Prollem wit' that is man like Skrabz ain't give a fuck about no fan poll and from what I seen, the kinda people out there in the seats still reppin' for me ain't seem the type to give a fuck about one either. Nah, it be the forum nerds innit, the tweeters, it be the WON subscribers, it be them takin' time outta they day to take part in a fuckin wrestlin' poll coz ain't nobody else got time for the shit..."
He shakes his head and twists the top off his beer then drinks greedily.
"Well fuck a Stans consenus. I'm the man; relentless. Still a man a my word an' my word's contentious... An shit, I might not a been in the last one but I'mma be in the nex' one, six body ting, Penitentiary vibe. But that be in the future innit. Man has got a lil suttin' else to deal wit' first... El Diablo Blanco..."
He takes another drink of beer before continuing.
"The hottest new star in Mi' High Wrestlin'... It's what they say innit."
He shakes his head.
"I think they lyin'."
He takes a deep toke on his joint then speaks, smoke trailing off the end of each word.
"Former phoenix Champion, current number one pretender... "
He laughs slightly, arrogance plastered all over his face.
"Or suttin like that.... Ya nah me an' you had a ting in common post Spectacular three, yeah we both done came outta there wit' a limp in our step, only you got a lil help gettin' back up to speed wit' that number one contender bullshit. Man like Skrabz had to set his own pace though, an' in doin' so I done moved myself ahead a the pack... Shit, it be more like I reminded 'em that I already be there coz you all seen the shit. Man like Skrabz ain't give a fuck about a rankin' system but I know they do, an' it sting 'em to see my name where it be, yeah they look at that shit an' wince wit' the quickness."
His voice takes on mocking tone.
"But but but Ohio..."
He shakes his head and looks at the camera.
"Shut the fuck up!... I told you ain't nuttin' changed."
He sneers with venom before hurriedly finishing his beer.
"Not for me anyway, suttin' done changed for you though, innit El D? Yeah, coz you ain't carryin' that Phoenix strap 'round witchu no more, an' I betchu saw that number one contendership bullshit an' thought you were movin' on to bigger an' better tings. You were right too fam, kinda, coz here they be innit... Man like Skrabz, the biggest an' best tings goin'"
He pauses, his eyes locked on the camera, confidence and arrogance mingling on his face.
"Oh butchu got a score to settle right? Coz I done putchu down for nuttin' right? No reason. Unprovoked... Lured ya into a false sense a security and then BAM! It's what they say fam, but shit ya shoulda done known if you in that ring wit' man like Skrabz, if you even my presence you ain't never safe, plus you been provokin' me since you shuffled ya pudgy lil frame through the door anyway..."
"Wit' your positivity...
God it sicken me....
If his wife cheat, wit' a smile he prolly say 'she practice polygamy,
got suttin' on the side for the times when she sick a me'... "
He laughs again before taking another toke on his joint.
"Man like El D put a positive spin on anyting and e'ryting... Unless he cryin'."
He shakes his head, his bottom lip pushed out in a mocking, upset looking pout. After a few seconds he laughs again.
"Coz he either smile an' wave for the neeks in the seats or he out there with tears on his cheeks, cryin' coz he won, cryin' coz he lost, cryin' coz his lil Diabli-whatever the fuck be cryin'... Ya nah I thought about what I was gonna say to ya, sized you up, took it all in, it ain't take long to do it either. Now man like Skrabz been known for the shit he say, unfiltered, but I got limits fam. You ain't the first one steppin' to me who got kids, you the first one to mention 'em though, an' since you done brought 'em up I guess that mean they fair game..."
He looks into the camera coldly
"Nah, I'm jus' fuckin' witchu, kinda... Coz ya play the role well fam, I give ya that. You on that Eric Cartman vibe, rackin' ya mind about how ya can reach these kids, settin' a good example, promotin' education. Shit I can't lie fam, man like Skrabz coulda done wit' some a that. I ain't even go school half the time yet I still be in class a my own, an' I still got sense enough to know that lettin' kids look up to man like Skrabz be a fuckin' bad idea... I mean ya seen my life, you know how I live, I ain't hide the shit. It's straight crud e'rytime I talk to 'em, chain smokin', heavy drinkin', always a rat or two walkin' 'round with nuttin' on.. You let ya kid watch that? You call that shit role model material do ya?... That's a poor look fam. But shit, that's on you... The tears she shed, the anguish in her, that be your fault fam so don't blame me. I ain't give a shit anyway."
He pauses and finishes his beer then drops the bottle on the floor.
"But if you ask me I'mma tell you I done did you a favour in breakin' her heart coz the way you describe tings, shit in thirteen years or so she'd a been hangin' out in the back waitin' for me to get off work as soon as she legal. I coulda made you a grandaddy, had ya pushin' a lil Skrabalita 'round in the pram, how you feel 'bout that?"
He looks at the camera, his eyebrows raised as if waiting for a response.
"Yeah, cryin' alone in her bedroom ain't sound so bad now, do it... But I be glad suttin' done finally put some fire in you, coz on the real when man like Skrabz dropped you on that face a yours two weeks ago ya shoulda been straight in the back lookin' for me, instead you find out you get ya shot at revenge an' jump straight pon the socials bithchin' an' cryin to the Bossman askin' him if tryina kill ya, as if you ain't been killin' yaself for years with that diet a yours.... Ya nah you shoulda been searchin' high an' low for me, Mad Dog too, but I done walked outta that buildin' wit'out even feelin' to look over my shoulders on the way out coz I knew even wit' my back turned ain't either of you about to do a ting... So why I do it anyway?... It's what they wanna know innit, they wanna know if maybe man like Skrabz done seen you as a threat, it ain't nuttin' like that fam, trust."
He takes another few rapid fire tokes on his joint and reaches for another beer.
"Take ya mind back to May sixteenth, first show back. You remember how it went down, right? The Bossman stood right there in that ring an' told the world man like Skrabz ain't comin' back, after all I done did for him. When he said the shit, those neeks in the seats did what they do, raised they frail lil underdeveloped arms in the air and cheered in their squeakiest lil voices... I had to buy a fuckin' ticket blad, you remember that? I does, I ain't ever gonna forget. But whatchu do though? Soon as the Bossman done wit his lil speech you waddle ya disgusting dad bad, oh yeah the rest of 'em might think it give ya a certain charm but I think the shit disgustin', lift some weights for fucks sake fam, go for a run or suttin', ya s'posed to be an athlete... Anyway, I digress innit, where was I?... You waddled ya tubby lil self down to that ring, covered in mud from those back yards you spent more than half ya life in and you told those neeks in the seats you were just like 'em an' not only in the physique department, nah, you a fan a this shit. You a fan a Mi' High. You stood there an' told 'em all you watched it pon the Stanton Network an' they lapped it up, within less than five minutes they be chantin' and cheerin' ya name, they ain't stopped since."
He shakes his head and twists the top of his beer.
"Man like Skrabz worked day in, day out for years on end to get to his position an' I ain't get nuttin' but hate for it, don't get me wrong fam I wouldn't have it any other way butchu you turn up, say some words and do nuttin' else an' you get nuttin' but love... Ya see people respect the wrong tings these days fam an' you be livin' proof a that. You be mediocrity personified, for real... Ain't nobody got respect for hard work, originality or dedication, ain't nobody got respect for a man that strive to give it all he got e'ry time he do it, nah, people only got love for those who tell 'em what they wanna hear an' shit, you know exactly what they wanna hear. You got it down to an art form... it jus' be a real shame that half the shit you say recently ain't been your own words."
He shakes his head, disgust evident in his facial expression.
"That shit weak fam, for real, but while the rest of 'em might not a noticed the ting man like Skrabz be a lil dif'rent... Coz you listened to preachers, right? You listened to fools, right? It's what you said. Ya said you listened to dropouts who make their own rules and fam I had to roll my eyes, coz Man like Skrabz got eclectic tastes for real an' he recognise the words a Ozzy Osbourne when he hear 'em... an' that ain't been the first time ya pulled that karaoke shit either..."
He locks his cold stare on the camera again.
"That shit be pathetic fam, on the level, straight up."
He shakes his head one more time.
"If you gonna talk to man like Skrabz you best do him the decency a speakin' for your ownself... But shit, this jus' be a lil example of what I been talkin' about a while back, live on that Beer, Rap and Wrestlin' podcast. That shit been a mistake, I shouldn't a been there, but I told 'em all live on air that anyone who be as positive as you be ain't to be trusted an' this be a prime example why. You a disingenuous ma'fucker and I seen it from day one wit' that brother shit you be talkin'. You half a hair away from tearin' off ya stretched outta shape t shirt and tellin' 'em to say they prayers and take they vitamins... You on that copy cat steeze, Terry Bolea vibe, as if that shit ain't been corny enough thirty suttin' years ago.... Ya mighta fooled the rest of 'em but man like Skrabz ain't so easily convinced, nah... They look atchu and see the future, man like Skrabz ain't see nuttin' but some played out, recycled shit from the past... But it getchu on the posters... Ya nah I had to laugh when I seen that Game Over shit for real, coz if anyone in the back be the type to spend they spare time on they backside bashin' buttons then man like Skrabz a put e'ryting he own on it bein' you."
"Coz his shit sus, he stand among us as a damn imposter
Catch him pon the sofa wit' Doritos and a can a Monster"
"Ya shoulda stayed yaself there there too fam, where ya were comfy, coz walkin' into Mi' High mean it only a matter time before you gotta stand up to man like Skrabz and you done did it at speed-run pace, now you gotta go one on one wit' the final boss a the game, an' ain't no glitches or skips fam, not this time. There ain't no extra lives, power ups or continues for ya, ain't enough coins in the world to get you another turn.... I'mma bury ya right in that backyard you crawled outta an' there ain't a ting ya can do about it."
He makes eye contact with the camera once more.
"An this time I might jus' make ya whole family cry."
He laughs arrogantly before leaning forward and tapping his phones screen, ending the recording.
