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Scoops McGee · (10-05-2025)

The ear-splitting creaking of the tire swing was a telltale sign that one of these days, it was about to fall off. I didn’t care as my short legs kicked through the dirt, helping to push myself further along. The breeze of the gentle wind pushed along my face, ripping through my hair as I grinned. As I looked upwards, the lush sunshine was beginning to draw to a close, the sun and the moon entangled in their continuous chase after each other. Even as the sun began to flee, however, its golden rays of brilliant light still stretched over the expanses of verdant fields in front of me.

It was always one of the most beautiful sights I had ever seen in my entire life.

“Ain’t it beautiful, Ma?” I swung forward again, kicking up and into the air as I held a goofy grin on my face. I turned to the aging, tired woman who reflected my smile with a pained one of her own. “Some day, I wanna go out there and see what it’s like all over the world.”

Lizzie McGee straightened herself against the old oak tree, no doubt trying to ignore the pain from her arthritic joints. Still, she nodded along with my words.

“Someday,” she agreed, though she continued. “It’s important to realize though, Terry. Sometimes things aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.”

“Well…” I fumbled with my words, trying to figure out what to say. My brow furrowed as I swung through the air again. “What makes you say that? Can’t all be that bad out there.”

Lizzie’s face stiffened itself into a tight frown, closing her eyes as a dejected sigh seeped from her lips. “Your father- bless that man’s soul, you know how stubborn he can be half the time- had to go through a lot of rejection and heartache before he settled down with the farm.”

My head swiveled to her, a glint of curiosity brimming in my eyes that only a child could have. The morsel of information only seemed all the more tantalizing. “No way. Tell me more! How did you meet?”

“Well, he was trying to become a musician. He always kept trying to woo me over with whatever silly love song of the week he tried to come up with.” A smile, this one more genuine, crossed her lips. The memories came flooding back to her, the more that she spoke. It lasted for only a moment before her expression darkened again. “Then, Pearl Harbor happened and your father went to go fight in the war. I remember the first day I saw him again, he seemed practically unrecognizable.”

Lizzie moved her hands up to her head, fingers cascading through the long locks of hair she had. “Your father had such long hair back in the day like me. When he came back with that buzz cut, well… he had me second-guessing myself so often.”

“No way,” I giggled, the tire creaking beneath my weight. “That can’t be Dad.”

“Oh, but it was. Your father matured out there, but he also had to see a lot of…” Lizzie struggled with the words, closing her eyes before she sighed again. “…bad things. Things no one should have had to see, Terry. Sometimes, when he told me about some of the memories from back there, it could just break a girl’s heart.”

“He was always different after that. He tried to be a musician still, but it was like the light left his eyes. Never could get a band going. Couldn’t hold down a consistent gig to save his life. Eventually, he eventually gave up and used what earnings he had to start up the farm once we got married.”

A frown of my own crossed my face. The sun had set fully, the moon beginning to rise as it continued the chase towards the sun. “Well, I would have thought that he’d be supportive of me trying to get out of here, in that case…”

“He doesn’t want you to face the same thing he did, Terry,” Lizzie quickly countered as she looked at me, blonde brows furrowed. “Being told ‘no’ so many times when you’re trying to chase your dream can break a man’s heart. I don’t want that for you. To know you’re so close, yet so far from getting what you’ve wanted for your entire life.”

…

“But you’d already know a thing or two about that, don’t you?”

“Huh?” I turned towards her, puzzled as words escaped me. The creaking of the tire swing felt almost deafening within the dark.

Lizzie continued. “You sit there, thinking you can be a wrestler no matter what while your life crumbles around you. You punted on school because of that. You didn’t even bother looking at colleges.”

“Ma, what are you-”

“Has all the broken bones been worth it, Terry? The amount of time you’ve spent in the hospital, watching tubes funnel in and out of your body? Watching your flesh get burnt and charred by whatever weapon on fire gets bashed into you that week? You can’t even say you’ve reached the top, can you?”

The tire swing careened to a stop. The sun had poked its head out again within the blink of an eye.

Instead of a child’s face, my haggard, wrinkled eyes glared at the blue sky as it began to turn purple. The moon was quickly coming towards it.

“No,” I shook my head slowly as it turned down towards the verdant fields. A sickening shade of diseased yellow began to sprout from within, slowly overtaking the blades. “I… I’ve been trying, Ma. It’s just been so… damn… hard.”

“I’m sure,” Lizzie scoffed. “That’s the excuse you’ve always used when you just couldn’t get the job done. But I know it eats you alive to know you just didn’t have the talent a lot of the other world champs do.”

A silence hung in the air, as heavy as the weight on my shoulders.

Lizzie broke the silence. “You still haven’t spoken to Sabrina since that day, have you? And you haven’t found Danny, either?”

I slowly shook my head. “It’s been over three damn decades at this point. I’ve tried to look for them on and off, but…”

“Have you tried, or did you know that looking for them would just take you away from the ring?” Lizzie’s voice poked and prodded at me like a branding iron, knowing what to label me. “Wrestling tears apart families. You’d know that better than anyone, Terry.”

“That’s not fair,” I tried to counter. “Ma, you have to believe me, I made a mistake leaving them when I went to Japan. If I could just have a second chance, I…”

“I’m not the one you need to convince, Terry.”

Lizzie’s smile revealed a set of yellowing teeth, as yellow as the diseased grass that was slowly growing upwards. It covered her torso like a blanket, the blades swaying in the wind. “You need to convince yourself what your priorities really are.”

The blades were eating at my ankles. As the tire swing swayed back and forth, a numbing sensation was beginning to grow along my skin. I shuddered from it, trying not to break as I stared towards my own mother, desperate.

“I’ll find them. I… I swear it.”

The grass continued to climb upwards. Lizzie’s face was a small speck of sand in a growing desert. Her grin continued to elongate, seeming more like the Cheshire Cat as she giggled.

“For your sake, I hope you do, Terry.”

I breathed in, the bitter pollen from the grass seeming like a miasma in the moment. I wheezed, my breath turning into a hacking cough. I tried to take another deep breath, but the more I inhaled the pollen, the more I choked on it.

Air. I needed fresh air. Air that wasn’t being given to me by the grass. I tried to reach out from the tire, tilting my head up towards the swaying sky, filled with bright blues and dark violets.

The rope of the tire swing snapped as I was sent plummeting into the toxic grass below.

Scoops McGee woke with a wheezing cough, sitting up straight in his recliner as thick beads of sweat dripped down his face. His chest hurt with every cough he gave, lasting for what seemed like ages. His eyes closed again, the pain preventing him from falling back asleep. He could just faintly make out a blue hue in the corner of his eye, catching his attention as he glared at the source.

A Japanese man stood in the middle of the ring, grainy static flooding the TV screen. His face was passive, eyes locked in complete concentration as he stood in his corner of the ring. His jet-black hair was brushed backwards, looking almost picturesque in the moment.

Boos were flooding the ring from all sides, but he simply ignored the commotion. He kept his gaze right onto the entrance ramp, waiting for the opponent that was sure to come. The ring announcer quickly took to the mic, his voice booming across the cramped yet intimate arena of Korakuen Hall.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” English subtitles dotted its way across the bottom of the screen. “Coming in tonight from Osaka Prefecture, weighing in at 121 kg… he is ‘the Beast’s Successor…’ SHIMIZUUUUUUU! KEEEEEEEENJI!”

The boos only grew louder. The man ignored them.

“Aw, sonuvabitch…” Scoops cursed under his breath, face contorted in confusion. “How the Hell did that get on-”

“You’re awake,” Noah Larson replied, keeping his ever-present camera focused on Scoops as he waved from behind the lens. It was at times like these that Scoops wanted to take that camera and punt it away as far as he possibly could. He hated the fact that every single part of his life was having to be filmed for future use, even if he had taken a step back from the ring in recent months.

Of course, that was about to change again…

“I turned it on!” Noah eagerly continued, grinning from ear-to-ear. “I figured I’d pass the time by finally trying to look at more of your stuff from Japan, and man, it’s been awesome so far. I wish I took a look at this sooner…”

The revving of a chainsaw interrupted the pair’s conversation as the audience brought their undivided attention away from Shimizu in the ring, instead looking to the stage.

As the rhythmic beats of the theme song echoed across Korakuen Hall, it didn’t take long for a familiar face to come from behind the curtain.

Scoops McGee was a younger man. He lacked the wrinkles and lines of stress that he had in the present. But what he lacked in experience, he made up for in pure, bloodthirsty vigor. Manic eyes scanned across Korakuen Hall until they came to Shimizu Kenji in the ring, glaring daggers back at Scoops as he wagged a finger towards him, beckoning his arrival.

Scoops grinned. His response was to rev the ruby red chainsaw in his hand. The blade whirred in excitement and anticipation, and the fans yelped in realization once they realized what he was actually carrying. Scoops reveled in that anticipation, holding the running chainsaw high into the air as if it were a torch of rebellion.

“And his opponent!” The subtitles quickly filled in. “Coming by way of Sioux City, Iowa, in the USA… weighing in tonight at 90 kg… HE IS! ‘THE PSYCHOOOOOOO TEAAAAAAAARER!’ TERRY! MCGEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

“Holy shit,” Noah breathed aloud, bringing himself to the edge of his seat. “That’s a new nickname. You know, I got thrown for a loop when I realized you were going by your real name in Japan instead of Scoops, but-”

“Turn it off,” Scoops quickly interrupted. A scowl was etched onto his face as he continued to stare at the TV.

“Huh?”

“I said turn it off!” Scoops snapped at him, a vein of anger throbbing in his skull as Noah quickly fumbled for the remote control, pausing it as Scoops of the past was mid-stride on his way to the ring.

Scoops stared at his past self’s face, the anger it held within him, and how the mere sight of his bloodthirst had his own gut churning. He exhaled as he leaned slowly, burying his face into his hands while slowly shaking his head.

“…Did I make a mistake?” Noah hesitantly asked, trying his best not to poke the lit dynamite that was Scoops’ temper.

A loud, forced deep breath was the immediate response. Scoops slowly dragged his face up, his eyes practically sinkholes. “I’d watch anythin’ but Japan. Japan… those were the worst damn years of my life.”

Scoops reclined back in his seat with a small thump, groaning as he did so. “Made a lot of enemies. Made a lot of mistakes. If I could take it back, I woulda just focused on America. Would’ve been a lot simpler that way.”

Noah hesitated, before he decided to press his luck. “Did you have another nightmare again?”

To Noah’s surprise, Scoops didn’t yell back at him or deflect away from the question. He slowly blinked, before muttering, “Third one this week.”

“I’m lookin’ to get back into the ring,” Scoops nodded as he leaned forward again. “Beats wasting away at home. I… I need to stretch my legs. Take a break from… the farm, from…”

“From Paige?” Noah raised an eyebrow.

Scoops looked up at Noah for a moment, before his gaze shifted back down. “She’s slow to recover. Been looking out for her, but we agreed some of the farmhands are gonna be around to help take care of her while I’m in and out.”

“Are you still alright after… all of that?”

“Fuck no,” Scoops scoffed as he shook his head. “It’s my fault she’s hurt. I looked at her like a Goddamn daughter, Noah. I was supposed to protect her! We were meant to be the damn tag champs, and instead I let Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumbfuck put the boots on her!”

“But you stepping in is the reason why her career isn’t permanently over,” Noah countered. “You can’t let yourself get stuck by this.”

“Stuck?” Scoops repeated, his face contorting in confusion. “Stuck… no, no, no. If I was stuck, I wouldn’t have dragged myself off to the Anarchy tag title match to try and fuck both of the Bastards up.”

Scoops looked at Noah, squinting at him as if to try and peer into his soul. “Boah, you got any family? You heard from yer’ ma or pa any time recently?”

Noah sheepishly grinned in response, but it was a grin that quickly faded. He slowly shook his head no, a frown having grown on his face instead. “Haven’t talked to my Dad in a while. He… wasn’t the most supportive about me getting into this business.”

“Well, ain’t that the drizzlin’ shits,” Scoops frowned. He mulled on a point in his head, before blowing out an exhale. “Does it hurt bein’ away from him for so long?”

“Well… yeah,” Noah nodded back. “I get homesick, well… a lot, actually. Sometimes I think about how my life would have been if I just stayed with my parents back home, but we’ve spent a good while together, you know? You’re like… the crazy uncle I’ve never had. I’ve been glad to get to know you, and…”

Scoops smiled- a true, genuine smile in that moment as he brought himself to his feet. “Yer’ young yet, Noah. If you still wanna become an interviewer or a broadcaster or whatever you want, I’ll help you along the way. That hasn’t changed. But you gotta figure out more than anything if that’s the one thing you want in life.”

Noah was silent, drumming a finger against the camera in thought as he brought himself up from his seat himself. “Well, what is it that you want, Scoops?”

“Too many things to count,” Scoops chuckled. “I’ve always had some lofty ambitions. But right now…”

He closed his eyes. Two thoughts swayed in his mind, a see-saw that dangled back and forth. He paced around the rickety wood floor, before coming to the open window just nearby. The night sky seemed particularly radiant, stars glimmering down from the heavens. He stared up at them for a moment, silently tracing the constellations.

“I never won a world title in any of the companies I’ve been to,” Scoops admitted. “Unfortunate fact about me, and it ain’t for lack of tryin’. I’m not exactly a spring chicken anymore. I know any chance I got is goin’ on a limited time, and I’ve been letting myself get distracted after Vidya Game Girl got injured.”

“We’re all gonna die some day, and that’s the God’s honest truth. The longer time goes on, the more we’re just gonna end up bein’ forgotten. Part of growin’ old is realizing yer’ own mortality. When you think about it, there’s only so many things in life that matter once you realize that. I’m a prayin’ Christian at heart, but nobody really knows for sure what’s gonna happen when you die.”

Scoops turned to the camera, his eyes watering ever so slightly as he exhaled again. “What I want, more than anythin’ else in this world, is to be remembered. Not just for puttin’ my body on the line for the fans and payin’ customers, but that helps too. Nah. It’s for everyone to know that it don’t matter how much natural talent you got. It don’t matter how old and worn-out you may be. It don’t even matter what kinda person you got standin’ in your way that says, ‘you can’t do it.’”

“What matters is that you try. You try your head off, you don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, you flip the bird to anyone tryin’ to tell you otherwise, and you go out there, and you complete your damn dream that you’ve always wanted to do yer’ whole life. Old dads and grandpas lookin’ to complete college. Skinny boys that don’t know how to go in a scrap compared to some big and bulky fight fanatic. The little man gettin’ pushed around by their boss but lookin’ to angle for a promotion some time soon.”

“That’s the type of shit I’m fightin’ for. The people society wants to scrape off their boot and kick to the curb. I’m fightin’ to let them know that no matter what the fuck life wants to throw at them, they got a chance. They can keep pushin’. They can keep fighting. I’m standin’ here after being dragged through explosions, thrown off cliffs, busted open more times than I can fuckin’ count, but I’m here. I’m fightin’. I ain’t got time to feel sorry for myself when I can still throw down and push towards my dream.”

“And that’s what’s gonna bring me right to my opponent. Sebastian Everett-Bryce. He’s everything I ain’t. He’s a natural-born talent. He’s a looker. He’s this, he’s that…”

“I think he’s a fake as fuck bastard.”

Noah felt his eyes widen as he sputtered behind the camera. Scoops continued onward though, pacing again around the floor.

“Sebastian calls himself ‘the Emperor.’ A title like that, you try to lord yourself over the common folk. You try to think of the ring as yer’ own little domain. And yet, you barely lift a damn finger to try and help the people inside this business. When the Black Rainbow was struttin’ about, you didn’t give a damn until they were knockin’ on yer’ doorstep to try and take yer’ title. You didn’t give a damn to try and go save Kieran King when they were puttin’ the damn boots to him! I don’t like King for even a damn second, but I ain’t the one tryin’ to say I rule the damn place, tryin’ to say I do good everywhere I go!”

“And what was yer’ reasoning for doin’ that? He wouldn’t have thanked you?! You weak-willed, spineless sack-o’-shit! By yer’ own words, you don’t give a damn about doin’ the right thing! You care about what others think of you a helluva lot more! Doin’ the right thing shouldn’t matter about whether or not you get thanked! It matters more that you stand on yer’ own business, followin’ what yer’ gut tells you to do, and if you wanted to do the right thing, you woulda marched yerself out there and shoved yer’ damn boot right up their asses!”

“I don’t hate you, Sebastian, but I hate yer’ fakeness, and I hate yer’ damn woe-is-me attitude. People would die if it meant they could have half the natural talent you had- hell, I’ve had to practically kill myself to make up for that fact! You take that talent for GRANTED just so you can let yerself sit in some wallowing self-pity bullshit! Every promo you cut is just full of lines of you puttin’ yerself down! Grow a damn pair and some backbone already!”

“You wanna do the right thing, Sebastian? Look around you. While you’re busy squabblin’ with yer’ own tag partner, this company’s gettin’ overrun by billionaires lookin’ to nickel-and-dime the system. We got people attackin’ others left and right to put them on the shelf.”

“You wanna make like yer’ a better ruler than King with that whole ‘Emperor’ title? Prove it. Prove it in that ring when I try to tear you off that damn throne. Because here’s yer’ Big Scoop- come Warfare, the only thing that’s gonna be ‘real’ about you is the gap in yer’ teeth from when I punch them down yer’ throat. I hope that’s gonna be yer’ wake-up call, Sebastian. Because you got too much talent to sit around cryin’ about the fuck-up of the week instead of tryin’ to change things for the better around here.”

“Me? I’m gonna be doin’ my thing, fightin’ for my dream like I always have been. I mighta been the one to cause this problem by letting you waltz yer’ way to grabbin’ that damn briefcase at Leap of Faith, but boah, I’ve never been hungrier in my life than watchin’ you strut around like a damn donkey. Because War Games is right around the corner, and I wanna put myself in position to put some damn Universal gold around my waist. I know what you’ve done, the fact that you’ve held that belt before. And if I can scoop you up and drop you down on yer’ head just once, then, well… I know for a fact I can beat you.”

“You better pray you got what it takes to kill me out there, though.”

Scoops stood silent, heaving a deep breath in the middle of the living room, illuminated by the TV. Noah was stunned into silence, not sure what to say, before finally, a question came to his lips.

“So… how do you wanna get ready for War Games, then?”

Scoops raised an eyebrow, before a chuckle spilled out of his lips and he nodded. “I think it’s about time I take you to where it all started for me, boah.”

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Scoops McGee in… “Hopes and Dreams”
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