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He is weak. He is afraid. When will he seek help? Does he assume he is the greatest? He is not.






I AM.

-TW


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It is late at night in the XWF arena. A live appearance had just occurred earlier in the night featuring such stars as The Senator, CM Punk, Mr. Satellite and Scott Charlotte. Fans gathered around the arena to get exclusive merchandise and autographs from their favorite wrestlers. Scott Charlotte, after having himself gone through a long day of fans swarming him, is sitting in his dressing room leaning back in his steel chair. A towel is over his face as the frustration from the day seeps out of his pours. Dressed in his ring attire, silver pants, black boots and black finger-less gloves. He grabs the towel and throws it on the ground. Scott looks up and notices a camera in the room. He looks at it with disgust and anguish.


Scott: Haven’t I seen enough cameras for today?


The cameraman is silent. Scott shakes his head and sighs with frustration that can only be matched with the frustration of attempting to build a fire in the tundra. He was always a fan of large metaphors.


Scott: Alright, I’ve got something to say. Come closer.


The camera approaches closer to Scott. He smiles widely as he notices his reflection in the camera.


Scott: Fucking beautiful.


He looks down at the ground and clears his throat. Scott looks back up at the camera and prepares to speak.


Scott: For years I've been in the wrestling business. I've had my ups and I've had my downs. I've won championship belts and lost championship belts. I've been in more stables than I can count on both hands. A rookie, a prodigy, a loser, a winner, a main eventer, a prophet and a rocker these are the names I've lived by. So with that kind of history you’d think someone like me would look past all the bullshit and I have, but if there is one thing that irks me…it’s the name of my mother fucking finishing move. It’s called THE GROUPIE KILLER. It will never be known as The Groupie Kick. Where is the flair and pizzazz with that dull name? Look out for Scott Charlotte and his patented Groupie Kick, shiver in fear as his boot wants to molest your loins. Fuck that noise! Ever since my return commentary, Liz Weinburg, Paul Heyman have all coined this mistake. New management is fucking up with old money and now this illiterate Canadian junkie has the nerve to continue it. I assume you never watched any of the old tapes nor looked at my roster page. Killer has much for of an intimidation factor to it. The name came from an old man a long time ago from a federation time has long forgotten, but it is something that has stuck with me ever since I decided to use the Super Kick a move coined by great ones all around the world with flashier names. Calling this just a kick is more of an insult to the beauty of the boot.


He lifts up his right foot and knocks on his boot with his knuckles. Scott lowers the foot and continues.


Scott: You see, Matthew, I used to be known as the “Infamous Rock Star” Scott Charlotte. With that name came the benefits of rock stardom and by that I mean waves of groupies looking to get a good pump out of the old Scotty Boy. Eventually I was approached by those underprivileged and even some stars who would be embarrassed if I revealed their names here. These Groupies became hostile and annoying as fuck to put it lightly. So, along with that old man I mentioned before, I concocted a list. The Groupie Killer list, something that would battle the indigenous groupie and end them once and for all. Week after week I sought out different Groupies and with my right boot “killed” them. Last week, your Canadian brother Ryan Ross got his name on this ancient list at least three times. When I look back and see this list I laugh at it. It was the younger Scott, so focused on making an impact.


He stands up and walks over to his black locker. He messes with the lock for a moment trying to remember the combination.


Scott: Damn, I always forget the combination.


He finally gets it after much frustration and Scott opens the locker. He digs for a moments searching for a specific item and pulls out a rolled up parchment. He shows it to the camera with a cocky smirk on his face.


Scott: After much thought I decided to dig up this list and what did you think I found?


He unties the parchment and opens the parchment. The camera zooms in as Scott shows what is written on the list. At the top it reads: THE GROUPIE KILLER LIST. Underneath it shows the name of a familiar Canadian.


#1: MATT LENNOX


Scott: That’s right, your name right at the top in bold and underlined to drive the point home. It seems this list will always follow me as the Groupie scourge never ends. Idiots like you that follow me around and spew out bullshit from that thing you call a mouth. I've had enough of your nationalism! It’s such an old and worn out thing. I thought Canadians were supposed to be nice, polite human beings but all the ones that come to professional wrestling are dickheads and murderers.


He chuckles as he thinks of a very clever joke. Scott turns to the camera with full intention on telling the camera.


Scott: I here it is cold in Canada, so don’t mind me when I warm it up on Monday. Maybe if the flag is on fire the country will do the same, summer in Canada what a wonderful thing. Matt, I hope you are truly prepared for Monday Night, because you've got me one on one. No person will keep me from being in that ring beating you to a pulp.


He looks down at the list and places his finger on a specific name lower than Matt Lennox.


Scott: Oh look at this.


He shows the camera the parchment.


#2: MR.SATELLITE


Scott: Number 2 on the Groupie Killer list. Isn’t this all just exciting?


???: Yes, very exciting.


Half of the room goes dark and Scott’s eyes widen in terror as he looks to the darkness. The camera moves and only darkness is seen.


Scott: Who’s there?! Who said that!!?


???: Take it easy Scott, you know who I am.


The voice is without a body as the camera zooms out showing darkness on the left side and light on the right as Scott stands in the light with terror in his eyes.


Scott: Some guy who snuck in here and wants to get knocked the fuck out.


???: You’ve always been so hostile towards me and that language. You should learn how to speak properly especially in my presence.


Scott: Like I give a fuck and I don’t care who you are I just want you to leave.


???: Why?


Scott turns his back to the darkness and takes on a childlike appearance in voice and body language.


Scott: It just doesn’t…feel right.


???: Aw, Scotty boy is a little frightened
With childlike defense Scott turns around swiftly with an angry look on his face.


Scott: I’m not frightened! I’m just…hell I don’t know. Just leave before I call security.


???:Scott, you know as well as I do that no security is going to make me leave this place.


Scott Charlotte looks on in the darkness with a blank and broken stare. He is changing before our eyes. The once proud and happy Charlotte is growing in fear or is it depression. This is a Scott Charlotte unseen before our eyes.


???: Do you remember the last time you wanted me to leave? It was such a sad parting of ways; believe me I didn’t want to go. It’s hard to see that your children think they don’t need you anymore.


Scott: Shut the fuck up!!!!


He screams at the disembodied voice with anguish that could rival an orphaned child.


???: Did I strike a chord? Scotty, you and I are the same. You want to be great and I want to be great. Come back to me and we can be great together. From one man to another man.


Scott: You’re no man! I don’t even think you’re human.


He stops for a moment and begins to search his memory for the voice he is speaking with. The voice laughs gleefully.


???: Oh good! You do remember me. I wouldn’t consider myself one of those filthy mongrels. You see, Scott, you are in denial over who you really are. You let all these people walk all over you, then you get angry and yell at them, make some empty threats. What happens then? Nothing. Nothing ever happens, because you always mess up in the end.


Scott: No.


???: Yes. You were at rock bottom when I found you. I picked you and raised you higher than before. We had a good thing going, you and I. Then you had me committed and that was the end of a long, powerful reign. You ruined the best year of your life when you ended mine. Now you think you can climb back to the top challenging champions and making jokes. Look at yourself in that mirror.


Scott: No!


He refuses and even takes the time to grab the chair next to him. He raises it in an attempt to break the glass.


???: LOOK!


The voices commands Scott and he obeys. He lowers the chair and stares deeply into the mirror. His eyes have lost all feeling.


???: You see that man, he is nothing. He is the most pathetic human being on the planet. Scott, by yourself you will achieve nothing. In the end you will have nothing. History is to repeat itself. Anytime you get close to having success it is ripped from underneath you. Whose fault is that?


Scott: Yours…


???: Whose fault is it?


Scott: Jonathyn’s…


???: Whose FAULT IS IT SCOTT?!?!?!?!


Scott: MINE!!


With great anger, Scott Charlotte punches the mirror and breaks the glass. Shards stick into his flesh, but he shows no emotion. Scott glares at his knuckles and begins to pick the shards out.


???: Yes. You are your own worst enemy and the enemy of my enemy is my friend. When you’re ready, you know where I will be.


The voice has left and Scott erupts in anger like a volcano. He turns and screams as the lights turn back on.


Scott: NO!! GO AWAY!!! NEVER COME BACK AGAIN!!! YOU CAN’T CONTROL ME!!! YOU’RE DEAD!!!!


The screams resound throughout the dressing room and into the hallway. A passing attendant hears the screams and barges in the room.


Attendant: Mr. Charlotte? Is everything alright?


In a blind rage he screams once more.


Scott: GET OUT!!


Attendant: Scott, your hand is bloody! I’m going to get some med-


The attendant is cut off before he can finish his sentence as Scott Charlotte in his maniacal rage hits him hard in the face with his right foot, The Groupie Killer. The man falls on the ground with an alarming thud while Scott falls back against the fall clutching his hair writhing in pain. Tears stream from his eyes as old memories flood through his head. The man who came back with a smile has more pain and torment than he lets on. Scott Charlotte is breaking and who was that mystery voice?