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X-treme Wrestling Federation » Warfare Boards » Warfare RP Board
Scoops McGee in... “The Magnificent Two”
Author Message
Scoops McGee Offline
Live the Legend
TITLE - X-treme Champion



XWF FanBase:
Hardcore, psycho fans

(cheered for breaking rules and bones; excessively violent; creative with weapons)


#1
02-07-2025, 10:33 PM

Saint-Eustache was practically an ice cube in the middle of the night. Outside of the glitz and glamour of the Montreal nightlife, Saint-Eustache was a far more quaint and quiet suburb, filled with many a man, woman and those in-between trying to get some well-deserved rest. Of course, there was always an exception to such a thing. That exception had presented itself as both dog and man trotted along the icy sidewalks, the latter of which trying everything not to slip and fall on the spot.

“Couldn’t he have just gone to a hospital…?” Noah muttered quietly to himself, trying to keep his grip on both the camera and on Jessie’s collar stable enough as he kept moving. “It doesn’t feel right that he just… went to a random house here.”

Beside him, Jessie the pitbull continued to move without a care in the world, drool continuing to drool from her mouth as she knew just who was nearby. The only thing that stopped her excitement was pausing to give Noah a glare over her shoulder as he muttered and mumbled under his breath.

At least she’s not trying to bite me, Noah thought. That’s a start.

Finally, as Noah continued double-checking house numbers, he came to the one he was looking for. 216 Boulevard Girouard was a simple one-story white house on the corner of the street, the wide backyard perhaps being the most interesting thing to note about the residence. Or at least would ordinarily be the case… save for the fact that the door was for some reason ajar. Something must have happened in there...

“Let’s go, girl,” Noah tugged on Jessie’s collar to get her to follow along. She huffed, but went along for the time being. Up the rickety steps of the metallic porch they went along, slowly careening open the door to see the darkness that had enveloped the living room.

“Uh… Scoops?” Noah asked into the metaphorical void as he furrowed his brow. “Scoops? You’re in here, right?”

Noah took two steps forward, Jessie now behind him instead as he trained his eyes to try and see in the midst of the darkness. Were those… hung title belts along the wall? If Noah didn’t know better, he’d have thought he saw a scene like this already in Scoops’ house, but that was contrasted with tall, imposing bookcases filled with all manner of thick tomes that he couldn’t quite make out in the darkness.

“What is this place?” Noah asked himself again. Just as he was about to open his cell phone and try to call Scoops’ number, however, his ears perked up as he could hear distant words.

“...keep looking into the light,” a soft voice exhaled, carrying a distinctly French tone to it.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” a familiar voice responded to it.

Scoops! It sounded like he was down within the basement. Noah exhaled a sigh of relief, tugging Jessie along to try and find the way down. Had to be somewhere nearby… As Noah fumbled his way through the darkness, the chatter continued.

“Just like that,” the Quebecois hummed. “Must have been some bumps you took if you’re already coming out to see me only after your first few matches, ouin?”

“You don’t know the long and short of it,” Scoops snorted in response. “They’re tryna tell me I got transported into some sorta vidya game bullshit! Worse yet, I saw the fuckin’ little demons during my matches!”

The Quebecois snorted. “That sounds absurd.”

“Goddamn right it is, Johnny!”

Johnny? That name sounded familiar, but Noah couldn’t quite put a reason as to why. He had gone out of the front living room into the nearby kitchen, the sounds starting to get a little louder now.

“You know your body isn’t going to be able to handle much more of this, right?”

“Naw. You said it yourself, I’m gettin’ through this just fine.”

“It’s only a matter of time though. Terry, you’re 63 years old. Let that sink in. In America, you could start to collect your Social Security.” A low mutter could be heard in response downstairs, and Noah could practically feel the rolling of the eyes back despite not seeing the two at all. Finally, the man continued. “Tell me why you came back into wrestling, s'il vous plaît.”

Noah got the feeling he suddenly wasn’t supposed to be hearing this conversation. Just as he turned the corner and saw a light peeking from the basement where the two had to be. He had half a mind to say something, but… he just couldn’t stop himself from continuing to listen. Who knew if and when Scoops would actually give an answer like this to him when the cameras had to be constantly rolling?

Jessie gave a low growl beside him, somehow able to sense the energy that was going on downstairs. Noah shushed her as quiet as he could, gently keeping her mouth closed as he was determined to hear the answer. Cautiously, trying to juggle both Jessie and the camera, he tip-toed closer to the entrance of the basement.

A low thump made itself heard before Scoops exhaled back in acknowledgment. “I’ve just been thinkin’ a lot lately, Johnny. I got the farm. I had a good history out there, but it’s just… the more these old bones try to force themselves to settle down, the more I just feel like I can’t do it, y’know? It’s just the same goddamn shit, day after day, tillin’ the fields, helpin’ the cattle, sometimes helpin’ out the workers, but…”

A small pause lingered in the air, and Noah could almost visualize Scoops shaking his head. “It’s like a goddamn prison for me, Johnny. I can’t handle my life knowing day after day it’s just gonna be more of the same. But when I’m out there? In front of those rabid, screaming fans? It’s almost like… for a little while, I’m free as a bird out there. Almost anythin’ can happen. I can get to go around again, and…”

“And I’m sure the reason why you came into ownership of the farm in the first place has no reason to do with any of this?” the man - Johnny - continued.

Scoops stifled a laugh in response. “Smartass. But naw. I’ve also been thinkin’ bout some of the shit that’s been said to me-”

CHOMP!

Noah used everything in his power to keep himself from yelping out on the spot, taking a sharp inhale of breath as the camera shook in his grasp. Jessie freed herself from Noah’s grasp, gently landing on the floor and scurrying down the stairs with her tongue wagging free.

“What the-” Johnny muttered as he saw Jessie running down the stairs.

“Jessie!” Scoops cackled, taking his dog into his arms and covering her in kisses all over her furry head. “Swear to God, I’ve been missin’ ya for all this time!”

Collecting himself quickly, Noah went down the stairs, trying to keep as cool of a face as possible as he waved down. “Sorry about that - she just went on ahead as soon as I walked in here!”

The downstairs was a lot more… refined than the upstairs. A plush, silky black carpet introduced itself as soon as you were off of the stairs, opening up with wooden walls lining a surprisingly spacious interior. There were several cushy sofas, one of which had a closed laptop and several files on one of the cushions. Along with those came another flatscreen TV - this one wider than the one upstairs. A pool table was set off to the side, with a small bar area near that. To round it all off, there was a literal fireplace right in the middle of the far wall.

“Woah,” Noah muttered as he felt his breath getting robbed from his body.

“You managed to come inside, hm…?” the voice from earlier called out. As Noah turned to see the source of it, the dots were starting to connect again. Salt and pepper hair were messily shaken out of the man’s bright brown eyes, eyes that ran contradictory to the haggard and wrinkly skin along his face. There were slight bags underneath his eyes, and just a slight dip in his posture as he walked about. Still, he smoothed out his white button-up shirt as he walked, extending a hand for Noah to shake. “Joseph Taylor. And you must be the cameraman Terry talked about to me earlier, ouin?”

“R-Right,” Noah nodded as he tried to remember his manners, shaking Joseph’s hand firmly. It was like stepping into another world, almost. Noah hadn’t been able to get the best look at the home upstairs, but it almost felt reminiscent of Scoops’ home on his farm. It felt… homely, if a bit gaudy with all the accomplishments on display. But down here, it was nothing but high-class. “Uh- pleasure’s mine, sir-”

“God’s sakes, boah, you don’t need to be all formal every goddamn wakin’ minute of this shit,” Scoops groaned, looking up from scratching Jessie’s scalp as he rolled his eyes while doing so.

“Let him be, Terry, he’s been practically run ragged,” Joseph chuckled, before turning back to Noah, nudging a hand in Scoops’ direction and giving a careful look to the lens of the camera on his shoulder. “Speaking of… how has Terry been treating you?”

“Well…” Noah hesitated to talk about life on the farm and how Scoops had been eagerly putting him to work to try and help out, talking about how it was always ‘good for character’ and how he needed to ‘eat the frog,’ whatever that last one really meant. At least it resulted in an extra paycheck… “Ah, it’s been fun! Trying to learn so much about the business from Scoops has really, y’know, just… meant a lot to me, right?”

“Ah, real fan at heart, eh?” Joseph smirked, before turning back to Scoops. “Terry, have you told him about how we first met?”

No response at first, as Scoops was motioning for Jessie to give him some paw. Joseph groaned out, “God’s sakes, Terry, I get you love my dog and all, but at least try and be cordial for once, hm? Or did you get dropped on your head too hard out there?”

“Your dog?” Noah repeated, blinking in surprise before the dots finally connected with him. “Wait… you were the one Scoops said gave him Jessie!”

“That is what I just said, ouin?” Joseph snorted in laughter.

With a small sigh, Scoops decided to finally chime right back in again. “Johnny and I, the two of us, we go way back. Back when I was first breakin’ into the business, he was the one who had been teachin’ me the ropes. He was jugglin’ work up in the Chicago territory at the time, Second City Wrestling, think it was, yeah?”

“Surprised you could still remember that,” Joseph responded coolly, before nodding back to Noah. “Also was working on the side to become a neurologist, actually. Wrestling hadn’t known it yet at the time, but ah… Doctors skilled at working with concussions were about to become something very precious. When I got serious about pursuing that, I backed away from the sport, but I still had a nice career. Most people would have killed to have been making money for about fifteen years before calling it quits.”

Joseph shrugged. “Then you have Terry over here who’s been killing himself for over forty years trying to chase those thrills. Isn’t that right?”

“Goddamn smartass,” Scoops shook his head. “Ain’t my fault you’d rather be doin’ paperwork and these days gettin’ screamed at about how y’ain’t know shit.”

“Like you’re much better about yelling at doctors. I’m willing to wager you’ve been running out of hospitals too soon again?”

A silence and a small grumble was all the response Joseph needed. “I thought so. Noah, I should tell you now, if there’s one rule Terry actually lives by, it’s a simple one - ‘never pay your medical bills.’”

“Like I should have to worry ‘bout that when I can run to you to check on me,” Scoops laughed out.

“Of course, and you’re never a bother at all about that,” Joseph replied with sarcasm dripping in his voice.

“So, wait, wait, wait,” Noah said, shaking his free hand in front of him. “You two used to wrestle against each other? What was that like?”

A small pause hung in the air before Scoops was the one to speak up. “We ain’t have wrestled each other, no - well, ‘cept if you count all those times we sparred against each other in the ring, at least. Naw, we was a tag team over there in Chicago.”

“You wouldn’t believe it,” Joseph snickered, “but young Terry was quite different from how he is now. He was… how do you say it in English… he-”

“He’s tryna say I was a goddamn jackass when I was younger. ‘Course, he’ll forget the fact that he wasn’t much better, goddamn drunk bastard.”

“Charming. Guess we’ll also forget that it was me who was scoring most of those pinfalls to keep the tag belts around our waists, hm?”

“I don’t… remember ever hearing about this when looking into your career,” Noah looked at Scoops, blinking slowly to try and drink in this new information. “That sounds… wild to think about…”

“Lots of people don’t,” Joseph shrugged. “Most of the territory era, ah… lost to time. Most people don’t even think about trying to reconnect with the glory days of the sport. Terry’s been doing it for so long that most people at least have a sense of what he’s done, the places he’s gone to, but they hardly know the full extent of that. I’d bet you’d hardly know that during the 80s when he was starting, he was more of a… submission specialist, ouin?”

Scoops smirked, looking like a particularly smug bastard as Jessie settled herself along his lap. With a thumb, he motioned off towards a hung picture along the wall. Noah jerked the camera along, finding a grainy colored photograph of the two after a hard-fought match.

“We were the goddamn Magnificent Two.”

Joseph and Scoops were both looking into the camera as they sat along ringside, holding up silver belts triumphantly. Both of their heads of hair were longer, with more youthful energy about them as they grinned maniacally. Joseph was already starting to head towards the back, while a redhead with emerald green eyes was hanging herself off of Scoops’ arm.

“Those… those were the good ole’ days.”

“Who’s she?” Noah asked, pointing along the photograph. “She, uh… looks like you knew her.”

Scoops’ face fell off a cliff, a low, guttural growl coming from him as he leaned back in his seat again. Noah got the feeling he asked the exact wrong question, his stomach twisting into knots as he watched his reaction.

“Those were good days,” Joseph quickly interjected to untangle the situation, “But they were old days too. Lots of things from back then that we’ve either forgot, or… would like to forget… but history is history, right, Noah?”

Noah nodded, not sure how to respond. Sensing his hesitancy, Joseph continued as he snapped his fingers. “Say, I think I’ve got a few tapes lying around here from back in the territory days when SCW used to try and spread out further along the state lying… somewhere in my office here. How about I sate some of that curiosity about the old days, hm?”

Joseph didn’t wait for a response, quickly walking off within the luxurious room as Noah raised an eyebrow. “Wait, this is an office for you?”

“Ouais!” Joseph replied without turning back. “At least… I spend most of my time down here, so it feels a bit better to call this an office. Makes me feel like I can get work done down here more often. I’ll get you a drink!”

“You just want an excuse to get boozed up again!” Scoops called out after him with an exasperated groan. On his lap, Jessie gave a low, guttural rumble that seemed almost like a purr. As Scoops heard it, he nodded along.

It was only once Joseph was mostly out of earshot did Scoops drag an eyeball back to Noah. “How much of that conversation earlier did you hear, boah?”

“W-What conversation?” Noah stammered back quietly. “I… didn’t hear anythi-”

“Boah, I was born on a Thursday, and it sure as fuck wasn’t last Thursday,” Scoops rolled his eyes back. “You ain’t gonna lie to me.”

Noah cleared his throat, before bringing out, “...Little bit, yeah.” Another small silence passed between the two before he added, “If you… ever wanna talk about anything troubling you, I… I know I’m only good for so much, but maybe I could help lend a shoulder for you?”

Scoops snorted in response. “Y’ain’t slick, either, boah. I know ole’ Thad Duke musta put you up to making sure you get all the good shit outta me, but he ain’t gotta worry. My life’s been plenty entertaining enough without needing to go pokin’ into old skeletons.”

“But that’s not-”

“Listen here,” Scoops said, leaning forward while continuing to scratch Jessie’s head. “Yer’ damn sure good for some stuff, and I ain’t gonna hear you puttin’ yerself down like that. Now, you wanna put yerself to good use, how about you keep that there camera trained on me, yeah? I got shit to say, and I got five bastards who need to hear it.”

Noah backed himself up a bit, nodding as he got on his knees, keeping the footage rolling on Scoops as he stared straight into the lens.

“Now, X-Dubya’-F fans, we been at this for a little while now, ain’t we? I knew, ever since I came in, that Xtreme championship, yeah… that was the shit I was lookin’ for. Universal’s the end goal at the end of the day, but the Xtreme? There ain’t a belt as fittin’ as that one for ole’ Scoops, no siree. You better bet yer’ goddamn ass that I’m hungry for that gold, and I’m gonna go out there, and I’m gonna knock some fuckin’ heads together to make sure I get what I want.”

“Vidya Game Girl! I ain’t so sure yer real still, but I don’t really care what you are when we step into that ring together. I got all the respect for you, yes siree, but that ain’t gonna stop me from gettin’ done what needs to be done. We’ve been at it in your neck of the woods, showin’ me all that bleep-bloop crap and what have you. But now? Missy, we’re goin’ into my neck of the woods. Steel chairs, kendo sticks, flamin’ tables, barbed wire - that’s where I thrive. And hey, I hope to God you can do the same, give me a reason to keep my respect up after what we’ve been through together. But I… I ain’t so sure about that. Not when you haven’t shown me that killer instinct yet. But when I’ll be gougin’ everyone with some old-fashioned barbed wire, oh, believe me. I’m gonna drag that instinct right outta you.”

“Lucy Wylde, always a bridesmaid and never a bride, huh? Y’know, in all the time you’ve been in this place, not once have you had a match on your own and away from Aurora until now. I’ve seen the way you move and yap, and yer’ goddamn blander than white meat, and you shrivel up just as easily as it whenever you get into the ring with a real challenge. I respect your little team-up antics, but there ain’t no one who’s gonna be watchin’ your damn back out there, no siree. You think you can go out there, lose your tag belts and immediately think you can just up and rebound by challenging for one of the biggest prize in this company? Yer’ goddamn outta yer’ mind is what you are. For a supposed little vet that you are, I’m hopin’ I see a lot more outta you than I already have.”

“My next three opponents could honestly be lumped together, but goddamn if they ain’t the biggest sack of nutcases I’ve ever seen. I mentioned a dime a dozen, but Charlie, when I brought that up in our first match, this is what I was referrin’ to. You tried to paint yourself like some dumbass tortured soul last time we faced, but you know somethin’ - yer’ the one that dug yer’ own grave, built yer’ own nightmares, pushed that one girl away and sent her to an early grave. Every single thing you whine and complain about is directly from YOUR own doing, not nobody else! Instead of whining and complainin’ about Gepetto, or tryna go for the thirty-sixth pin on the Xtreme Champ this week, how ‘bout you man the fuck up and take some responsibility for yourself? Or what, is that a goddamn foreign word for you? You ain’t a goddamn scarred father, yer’ a sick SOB livin’ in delusion. The sooner I put you out to pasture in the ring, the better.”

“Sarah goddamn Wolf, I got some fuckin’ words for you. I've seen a bunch of types like you before, Mommy and Daddy left you out to your own devices for too long as a little girlie, hit your head too hard as a baby, and turns out you never really fully grew up. All you are is just a child in the world of adults, and it’s been past yer bedtime for a long time, yes siree. Why else would you go nappin’ and lettin’ Charlie Nickles pin you for that Xtreme title after yappin’ a whole bunch about how, ‘oh, I ain’t like everyone else who thinks of this belt as a little gimmick!’ Gimme a goddamn break. Y’ain’t shit. Y’ain’t ever been shit, and you’ll probably never be shit ‘til the day you die. I can see all yer little plays now. Yer gonna go out there, talk about how you know us. Seen the shit I’ve done out there, how I’ve bled and broken myself, how yer gonna try and ‘finish the job and put the old-timer outta his misery!’ Little girlie, I’ve taken shits twice the size of you, and you think yer gonna put the hurtin’ on me? Get yer goddamn shit together. If yer gonna try and erase the past, I’m gonna try and make sure the present ain’t full of a bunch of goddamn failures like you.”

“And Yelena fuckin’ Gorgo. I might as well have saved the nuttiest for last. Girlie here wants to have as many personalities as there are colors under the sun, and they’re all tryna’ drive me up a goddamn wall with how many times I gotta listen to the same shit from her, from Sarah, from Charlie. Y’all wanna make like yer’ this unstoppable force that’ll make us bleed and open our eyes, how about you stupid fucks open yer eyes to the truth that none of this shit makes y’all special? Gorgo lady, if yer’ the one who’s gonna admit it only takes some idiot yappin’ on the speakers to take you outta yer’ game, then you ain’t gonna be cut out for this shit. Not with all the bodies flyin’ around left and right. Yer’ gonna be a sitting goddamn duck out there ripe for huntin’, and ole’ Scoops has got his gun ready to go.”


“That’s nice,” a familiar voice came out from the side as he bent over, three VHS tapes in hand. “Are you done blabbering to the camera and ready to watch some tape?”

Scoops snorted in response. “Can’t I even have a little bit of fun nowadays?”

“I’d argue ‘having fun’ is the exact reason you had yourself fearing concussions and hallucinations.”
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