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+--- Thread: My Life Has Been Extraordinary (/showthread.php?tid=49489)
My Life Has Been Extraordinary - Scoops McGee - 11-12-2025
The blaring embers of the lamp burned themselves into Scoops McGee’s retinas, causing him to hiss as he banged his fist on the desk. The pale visages of the police officers snorted in amusement, watching the guinea pig’s reaction.
“Wakey-wakey,” the old, lanky man called, his leathery face scrunching as he moved.
“Go to Hell,” Scoops scoffed.
The younger man sitting in the desk, slightly pudgy, no doubt newer to the force, cleared his throat as he tried to steer the ship. “Sir, do you know why you’re here today?”
Scoops leaned forward slightly, meeting the officer’s gaze eye-to-eye. “You fuckers tried accusing my team and I of theft. We didn’t steal shit. I don’t even know what you people think we stole.”
The space of the dingy, filthy interrogation room only felt more cramped by the minute. The gaze of the officers were practically like hyenas, waiting to pounce the mere minute Scoops made a mistake. His fingers drummed against the table anxiously, practically wanting to jump out of his own skin with the way the anxiety made his heart race.
The old man lurched down suddenly, slapping a manila folder against the table. Pictures and documents came spilling out from within, showing every single person active in War Games. Scoops, his teammates, his opponents, and even…
“Those goddamn Trillionaires,” he muttered under his breath.
“You’ve been a busy bloke in that company of yours, eh?” the old man asked, revealing a pair of yellowed teeth in his grin. “Been fighting for championships, I hear?”
Scoops’ scowl twitched. “Gimme one good reason why I shouldn’t just call for my lawyer right now.”
“Work with us, Mister McGee,” the fat man anxiously shifted in his seat, carefully measuring his words. Scoops grimaced at how his voice felt like nails scraping against a chalkboard. “We both know the legal system is long and… arduous. And you have a show coming up that you can’t afford to miss, right?”
His face paled. His blood ran cold. Scoops slammed a palm over the table, funneling his anger into his voice. “You ain’t gonna do shit to keep me away from War Games, got that?”
There was only one group that came to mind that wanted to make sure Scoops wasn’t going to make it to War Games. The next time he saw Muskrat, he was going to-
“Then you better work with us, or else,” the old man replied.
“This can’t be fuckin’ legal…” Scoops muttered under his breath.
“Tell us about yourself and what you do, Mister McGee,” the fat man offered with a forced smile. “You’ve been fighting for championships recently, we’ve noticed.”
Scoops took a long, slow exhale. His hands were tied. He wanted to be anywhere else in the world, right now. Instead, a target was forced right onto his back, and it felt like everyone and everything was taking aim at it.
“Well, Officer…?”
“Charles,” the fat man nodded before gesturing to his partner. “That’s Officer Abbott.”
“Charlie. Right,” Scoops nodded. “Well, that’s what I’ve been doin’. I’ve been aimin’ for the Universal title in the ole’ XWF pretty much as soon as I walked in the door.”
Abbott leaned over, bringing several pictures to the forefront as he spoke. “What does being a champion mean to you, anyway?”
Kieran King. Solomon Kline. Dickie Watson. Atara Raven. The Exiles. The champions all who were defending their titles inside of War Games.
Scoops eyed the pictures of Kieran and Kline with disdain, looking back up. “It’s about responsibility. Knowin’ you got that belt means you got eyes and ears on you. You gotta be willin’ to fight, earn yer’ stripes. The payin’ folks got enough to worry about in their lives, nowadays. For a few hours, you gotta be willin’ to help each of them forget about the worries in their lives, grab their attention and give them somethin’ to cheer about, whether it be for or against you.”
“Cute response,” Abbott snorted. “You like knowing you’re a big-shot, huh?”
“Damn straight.”
“Do you think each of the champions in this company fit what your standard of being a champion is?”
Scoops outright scoffed, shaking his head as he weakly held back a full-on laugh. “Fuck no.”
He grabbed most of the champions’ pictures, flinging them to the side off of the table as they slowly sailed away.
“This bloke thinks he’s funny,” Abbott scoffed.
“Fuckin’ hi-larious,” Scoops rolled his eyes. He pointed at the two remaining pictures on the table: Kieran King and Solomon Kline. “These two jackasses? They’re on my shitlist.”
“The two biggest champions?” Charles weakly smiled again as he brought the two forward again. “What about them gets under your skin?”
Scoops internally groaned, holding his face in his hands. What he would give for some rest right about now. He dragged his hands down his face, staring at the two pictures in front of him. Slowly, his finger rested on Kline’s picture.
“Solomon Kline is a snot-nosed little bitch-boy who got into this business off of his daddy’s name value. He’s barely ever shown any worth since then. He’s a little snake who has to hide beside people who are better and stronger than him. He was with his daddy, then he went to ole’ Aidan Collins, flirted with the Black Rainbow for a bit, but now he’s with the Corporation of all groups.”
“Kline gets big for his britches after some lucky scrapes. He thinks just because he holds that belt and that he puts on some new makeup that he thinks the world revolves around him, but the truth is he’s still just as pathetic as before. Look, did you fellas know that he had a match where the deck was stacked completely in his favor in an elimination match and he still came in last place?”
Charles blinked in surprise as his gaze traveled downward. “I, uhm… well… yeah, that does sound pretty bad, actually…”
“Told ya. He ain’t ever had a real defense for his title. He ain’t ever had to properly scrap in the trenches to fight and hold onto that piece of gold. Miss Mansley got screwed out of her match with him, and I think she oughta be the one to pin that little SOB and take the belt off his carcass. Kline ain’t even strong enough to be able to defend himself in there. He’s slim pickings. I bet you his team don’t even respect him.”
“Are you sure?” Charles raised an eyebrow. “You said he was good about hiding behind other people…” His fingers moved forward, nudging the pictures of Sarah Wolf, Thunder Knuckles and Mister Oz beside him.
“Listen, Charlie,” Scoops grimaced. “That team is the most unstable pile of trash I’ve ever seen. You got Sarah Wolf, one hell of a talent, but she ain’t ever reached the mountaintop before. She ditched the whole Black Rainbow stint, and good on her for doin’ so, but now she’s havin’ to team with someone who wasn’t even all that crazy about wanting to be on her side the first time they met? She hates teaming, she hates men, she hates havin’ to rely on others. Kline just put her in the worst possible situation, and you know somethin’? If there’s one thing Sarah Wolf loves, it’s bitin’ her nose off to spite her face. She just don’t give a shit about that kind of thing. I’d put money on the table right now if I could that she’d backstab him in our match and smile about it after.”
Scoops turned to Thunder Knuckles’ picture, grimacing as he did so. “Ole’ TK. Fuckin’ piece of shit. I owe him after what he did. You know he tried ruining the career of Vidya Game Girl? I had to throw myself on top of her just to try to save her from him and his jackass partner.”
“Uhm… my condolences…” Charles replied as Abbott rolled his eyes.
Scoops waved it off, continuing. “He’s more lost than a rat in a maze, nowadays. He’s part of a group of people in this stupid company who rely on one thing, and one thing only. Shock factor. He and a bunch of other people get up on stage and say the nastiest shit possible and do even nastier things in the ring, and they’re proud of it. But when you get fed the same slop over and over again, well… that type of shit loses its effect.”
“And it’s adding up for the poor bastard! He lost his tag partner and thought he could be the big, bad SOB holding both Anarchy tag titles. That didn’t last long. I had his ass dead to rights when he had his actual tag partner next to him before, he ain’t even touchin’ me with a worse supportin’ crew next to him. Vidya Game Girl and I got some extra payback to dish out on him, that’s the truth.”
Finally, there was one picture left for Solomon’s team. Scoops held up Mister Oz’s picture, snorting as he did so. “Y’know, I actually got no problem with Ozzie. I think he’s dumb as a sack of rocks and has a talent for knowin’ how to lose, when you consider his record. But aside from bein’ some irrelevant also-ran in the Corporation? He’s like a puppy. Big eyes. Totally harmless. Ain’t ever like he’s known how to use his teeth to his advantage.”
“I’ve always wondered how tirin’ it must get to line up to lose every single time, the way he has.” Scoops flicked Oz’s picture away, letting it fly in the air.
Abbott snorted, before nudging the picture of Kieran closer to Scoops. “What about this guy? Universal champion, right?”
“Kiki…” Scoops exhaled, reclining back in his seat. “Calls himself a King, you know? With how this event is modeled after the War of the Roses, I think he fancies himself Henry Tudor. Bein’ able to sail in as the conqueror, give himself the crown, flaunt all the supposed good things he’s done.”
“Constant paranoia. Creating events modeled after him and his likeness. Butchering those who fought for the rights of people in their so-called lands. You’d think I’m talkin’ about Kiki, but I’m not. See, he’s not Henry Tudor.”
“He’s Emperor Nero.”
“This entire story is more ancient Rome than anything else. Nero turned deranged as a ruler, more intent on carnal self-pleasure than anything, and you can take one look at what Kieran likes doin’ nonstop to prove my point there. Dolly Waters, did you know she tried fightin’ for a union for all of us? Guess who was the sick bastard who stomped her out? Kieran, that’s who. He burned our chances of getting the help we needed for ourselves like Nero burned Rome to the ground.”
“Kiki doesn’t give a damn about anyone but himself. He’s the only person who’s ever mattered in his world view, and if you pressure that view, then he cracks underneath it like glass. Nero fought against the aristocracy instead of working on the common man’s plight, like how he’s goin’ after a bunch of rich fucks right now. And when the people had enough of Nero, what did he do?”
“He ran. Just like how Kiki’s threatened so many times to run away off to nowhere with whatever championship belt he wins.”
“He’s a snivellin’ little bitch at the end of the day, and I know he’s gonna be waitin’ for me in the finals, but he ain’t gonna have a royal guard beside him this time, no siree. Him and all his fuckin’ goons, Arroyo, D, Tact. They aren’t meant for the big leagues. I’m gonna show ‘em all just how much fire a man’s got when he’s pushed to the edge.”
“Same goes for all the other groups in this match. King’s gonna be too busy sulkin’ about how it’s supposed to be his ascendency. Betsy still doesn’t have any damn killer instinct to save her life, and SEB is gonna be just as sulky as King is, the two are made for each other. My team’s the only one who’s capable of winning.”
“That’s assuming we even let you go,” Abbott frowned. “You still don’t seem to realize what you did. You’re looking at a serious case here, McGee.”
“Bullshit,” Scoops shot back.
“Oh yeah? I’ll give you some basic yes or no questions. Indulge me. Is Game Girl able to teleport to anywhere she possibly can?”
Scoops hesitated, squinting slightly at Abbott as he sighed. “Yeah.”
“Does Dickie Watson associate with known criminal elements in Japan?”
The hesitation came longer this time. Scoops’ heartbeat pulsated right in his chest, trying to leap out as he clenched his jaw. He knew they were trying to get him to throw the others under the bus. He shrugged. “I don’t know anythin’ about that shit.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well,” Charles interjected, quickly taking the pressure off of his partner for a moment. “Are you aware of Amber Mansley’s recent social media tweets?”
“Why the fuck would I give two shits about what she writes there?”
“So you don’t know that she openly admitted to theft there?” Charles raised a brow, smelling blood in the water.
Scoops’ eyes widened in disbelief, and Charles saw his opportunity. He reached into his pocket, pulling out an iPhone as he quickly scrolled to Twitter. He cleared his throat, reading aloud. “L-O-L. Hashtag-We Stole Your Shit.”
Scoops leaned forward, flabbergasted, only for his worst fears to be confirmed as the officer handed him the phone to read himself.
“Why the FUCK did she say that?!” Scoops took the phone and flipped it out of his grasp, cracking against the floor as the fat man deflated.
“These Americans just don’t know when to shut the Hell up,” Abbott snorted, placing a hand on the back of Scoops’ chair. “We’re gonna give you one chance, McGee, since you clearly care too much about holding a championship. You admit to stealing from your company, and we’ll see about speeding the trial process along for a plea deal. Should only take a couple weeks… until after War Games.”
“And why would I admit to somethin’ I didn’t do?!” Scoops shouted back at him.
The two officers looked at each other as Abbott nodded to Charles. Charles exhaled, bringing up a heavy suitcase from by the table. “This is your suitcase, Mister McGee.”
Scoops didn’t reply, his tongue feeling like sandpaper in the moment. His fists were balled up tightly, his temper fraying before his eyes. There was one word he needed to get himself out of this.
‘Lawyer.’
A word so simple and easy to say that couldn’t bring itself out. All he could do was watch and see as the suitcase was opened, and the rusted frame of the XWF Heavymetalweight Championship came flopping out.
Scoops’ heart went on strike.
“What the fuck?”