Welcome to FWrestling.com!

You've come to the longest running fantasy wrestling website. Since 1994, we've been hosting top quality fantasy wrestling and e-wrestling content.

Scott Douglas

Not open for further replies.


Grandma Took Me Home
Jan 31, 2004
Handler Information

Name: Brian Wade
Email Address: indrecordings@gmail.com
Best Way to Contact You: Facebook/Skype
eWrestling Experience: MWC/GWX/EWI, CSWA, Ultratitle, IWF, RLW
How did you find DEFIANCE? FWCentral and Stalker’s latest viral Nike campaign.
Are you willing to write matches? It’s been awhile but of course.

Writing Sample
From Scott's original introduction to a short run in IWF. A ten part series titled "No Place Like Home."

Full Ten Part Series

No Place Like Home, Part I

After a month in Texas and two years in Mexico; it was good to be home. Never mind that the dusty road worn greyhound arrived to an absent fan base, or that the friend and/or family attendance was at a, proverbial, all time low. These things mattered not to a home sick, soon to be, 21 year old failed professional wrestler. It was just good to be home, even if it was raining.

The trip from the bus station on Stewart Street to South Park wasn’t far but after the insufferable bus ride from Texas; Scott’s stiff joints made walking the least desirable option. A short cab ride would drop him, only slight moments from the domicile of his formative years, in front of the areas most frequented corner grocery.

Scott stops in for a cold drink and most likely a pack of cigarettes.

The bell fastened to the top of the door jingles as Scott walks into what feels like a time warp. His time away, in the grand scheme of things, wasn’t the longest journey in the history of wayward sons but nostalgia has a tendency to place tricks on the minds of men.

Over crowded shelves, out of date products, scuffed tiled floors, a hint of some disinfectant merged with the incense display up by the counter, a thirteen inch television blaring some intolerable basic cable daytime television show, and of course the old man behind the counter who appeared to be more of a cardboard cutout of himself than a real person.

“Afternoon …” Scott muttered as he entered the dilapidated store. He did not receive any reciprocal pleasantries.

Scott snatched a soda from the coolers at the rear of the store and reported to the counter to retrieve the rest of his required transaction.

“… dollar twenty five” the shop keep barked without ever turning away from his zombie like gaze affixed to the small television set.

Scott reached for his money.

“I need a pack of Newport’s; in a box.” He stated while rifling through the singles and coins in the depths of his tattered denim.

“Shorts?” the old man questioned while reaching just above his head for the cigarette rack. Scott responded positively and the small box was deposited on the counter slightly askew from the existing soda bottle. “Those will kill you son… eight fifty.”

Scott chuckles slightly as he lays the bills down on the counter and returns to his pocket for the change. A poster hanging from the counter just behind the old push button register catches his attention. Counting out the fifty cent, in dimes and nickels, he asks “IWF?”

The shopkeep finally breaks away from his television program to collect and divvy up the legal tender in the cash drawer by its respective bill and coin type, “… pro’ wrestling fan?”

“… Life long,” Scott replies; clearly sparking the old man's interests. Slightly, but at least enough to be granted some eye contact … albeit post transaction.

“Wait, you’re...” the shop keep stumbles over his thought as he slams the cash drawer shut inciting a slight ring of the registers bell. “Nate … uh, Nate Daniels?” he asks.

Being recognized stuns Scott a bit and his response, although prompt, lacks its normal vocal presence and firmness. “Nate Douglas, well Scott …” he responds before being interrupted.

“Nate Douglas … that’s right. Douglas. You were smaller then. I saw you a few times down at the South Park community center. You weren't half bad.” the old man remembered. “What the hell happened?”

Scott, not sure whether to feel insulted or proud, responds politely, “well, there wasn’t much money around here, and I had an opportunity to go to Texas, which eventually landed me in …”

“Texas? Never mind that, so your back now I take it?” the old man interrupts.

“Yes sir, going to put the business behind me and try to start over” Scott pauses “… before it’s too late.”

Clearly displeased; the old man replies indignantly, “No, no, no … This IWF deal is supposed to be the next big thing in Seattle. You got to get on board son! You had something.” Shaking his head he punctuates his recently thrusted opinion, “… no way you lost it already.”

Scott attempts to offer a rebuttal, “well I don’t …”

“You don’t what? Know? You’re young son … you don’t know anything. Except how to put on a show. I saw that for myself. Don’t cheat yourself boy, take that flyer with you. Chasing dreams is a young man’s game, do it while you still can.” The shop keep lectured.

Scott retrieved his soda and cigarettes from the counter and turned to leave. “I’ll keep that in mind ...”

“Well, you better!” the man behind the counter calls out to Scott as he exits the door with a jingle of the bell and a click of the old warped door frame.

It was still good to be home.

No Place Like Home, Part II (Fatherly Advice)

The South Park neighborhood of Seattle had been going threw a bit of a transition over the past few years. Some might call it gentrification … others beatification. Either way; less fortunate people were slowly being displaced to make way for condominiums and over priced juice bars in Seattle’s, traditionally, poorest neighborhood.

Strangely enough, Scott’s street hadn’t changed much.

The walk from the corner store to Scott’s parent’s home was of short distance and before he could smoke a whole cigarette he was at the front door of their two story walk up. Scott flicked the remainder of his vice into the street and opened the door.

At the top of the stairs, Scott knocked and anticipated the jubilation spurred by his unannounced prodigal son like return.

“Who is it?!” a muffled voice on the other side of the door inquired.

Scott leaned in a bit to make up for sound damping provided by the thick oak door, “Ma’ it’s me!”

“Who?!” The voice questioned in a suspicious tone, denoting either a break down in thru-door communication or simply an unrecognizable voice standing on the outside.

“Mom, it’s me. It’s Scotty!”

“Scotty?” the voice from the inside repeats.

A second voice from inside the door calls out, slightly more commanding and full, “Martha, who is it?!”

“It’s Scotty!” Martha replies.

“Scotty!?” the second voice questions, “Well let ‘em in!”

The door opens with a creak and a woman in late forties holding a dish rag, wiping her hands, stands at its threshold. “Get in here Scotty! It’s been so long. Give your mother a hug!” she lovingly demands.

Scott leans in to embrace his mother, “Hey Ma’.”

“Nate, it’s Scotty!” Martha calls to Scott’s father who is sunken into his dingy green recliner on the other side of the common room.

“I heard you the first time Martha.” Nate responds as he slowly hoists himself up from the comfort of his favorite chair. “… good to see ya’ boy! How the hell ya’ been?”

Reaching to grasp his father's extended hand and be pulled in for the eventual half hug; Scott greets his father and completes the pleasantries with the proper responses, facial expressions, and mannerisms.

Scott’s father, Nate “The Great” Douglas, had been a mid-card man in the ‘territories’ during his rebel rousing youth. Originally from upstate South Carolina, he moved threw out the South East promotions attempting to make a name for himself and jump to the next level. When the work seemed to have dried up in the South, Nate tried his luck on the West coast where he would meet his lovely and enchanting young bride, Martha. He left the sport in his thirties with bad knees and an ailing back with few regrets. Settling in Seattle, he secured government employment as a mail carrier and put the business behind him focusing on his growing family.

“You two get comfortable. I’ll get us some drinks. Scotty, are you hungry?” Martha asks on her way into the kitchen just mere steps from the family room.

“I could eat.” Scott tells his mother as he plops down on the old family couch and his hulking father retires back to his worn recliner. The two settle in and Nate mutes the television and then lumbers his timed tested ankle up to cross over the knee of his opposite leg still firmly planted on the floor.

“You know, I wondered when I saw the IWF flyers if you’d be rolling back into town, son.”
Scott still timid to break the news to his father replies, “Actually I just saw the flyer down in the grocery. I hadn't heard ‘til this afternoon.”

“Well, that works out nicely for you then. Work is hard to find in this terrible economy and you just stepped in some. What happen to Mexico?” Nate questions the fruit of his loins.

Scott, knowing the question would arise eventually, answers reluctantly “I just didn’t feel like I was making in any head way down there. The money was decent, I suppose, but overall it just felt like a dead end street. So it was Japan, Germany or just come back home and regroup.”

“Scotty; is ham and cheese ok?” his mother calls from the kitchen.

Scott replies with a simple ‘yes’ and he and his father continue their conversation against the dusk colored window coverings that block out the slowly setting son and the ever increasing flicker of the silenced television.

“Regroup?” his father questions “You can’t take a break, son. They’ll forget your name faster than they learned it. You got to stay on it, stay in front of ‘em and remind ‘em every time out… you’re the one they either came to see … or should have.”

Martha brings in a pair of sodas and gives Scott and Nate each a can. “I’ll bring your sandwich right back, Scotty.” Martha pauses for a moment as if to take in the literal sight for sore eyes. “I’m just so glad you're back home son. It feels like it’s been ages.” She turns back toward the kitchen and leaves the two to their verbal discourse.

Unrelenting, Nate starts back in on his young son, “You’re too young to give up this quick son. I’m not saying walk in my footsteps, or make your old man proud or any of that horse ****. Your old man was a hack at best, but you have something special … you have a real gift. And if I have to watch you waste it; I might as well kick your ass while I do it.”

The two have a bit of a laugh and wash it down with a sip or two of theirs sodas.

“That’s definitely something to think about Pop, but to be completely honest … I’m thinking it's time to hang it up and refocus before it's too late.” Scott laments.

“Refocus? Regroup? What are you talking about boy? Your twenty one years old. You have plenty of time. You're still healthy,” Nate stops himself, “… you are still healthy right?”

Scott chuckles, “Yes, Pop. I’m fine. Nothing major.”

“Well look, you’ve got a total of what? … Maybe four years tied up into the business? All I’m saying is give it some time. Hell, this time it's right in your own back yard. Don’t cut yourself short here son.” Nate lectures.

“Alright boys, sandwiches are served. Nate I made you one as well.” Martha announces as she emerges from the fluorescent washed kitchen.

Scott reaches out to receive the plate from his mother and turns to his father as he sets it down on the coffee table in front of him. “That’s something to think about Pop… “He raises the sandwich to his face as his gears turn and thoughts race. He sets in to take a bite of the homemade snack and pauses momentarily.

“I’m going to give ‘em a call.”

Wrestler(s) Information

Ring Name: Scott Douglas (aka "Sub Pop Scott")
Height: 6’2”
Weight: 220
Hailing From: Seattle, Washington
Alignment: Face

Gimmick: As a teen, Scott had a nearly unhealthy obsession with the ‘grunge' culture. Which he felt he had missed the 'golden age' of; just by a couple years. The Sub Pop record label and their artists defined Scott in his own mind. Influencing his dress, hair and overall appearance and attitude.

The only rival to his musical tendencies were that of the professional wrestling type. His father was a old territory mid carder from the southern United States, who had settled down and had given up at the peak of his career to marry and father a child.

Scott is still young and has nearly hung it up twice and now with the passing of his father he sets out to prove what his family name could have or will mean in Professional Wrestling.

Additional Background: At the young age of eighteen, Scott left his home city of Seattle, Washington and traveled to Texas with the promise of a profitable rotation on a indy circuit in the aforementioned 'Great State.' After three months under the Lone Star, Scott learned quickly that in the day of conglomerate companies and sports entertainment that the regional based wrestling of the past had fell into a slump. "Pickin’s were thin,” in the parlance of his new found ... yet ever so temporary home.

At first chance, Scott took his six night payout to procure a passport and head to 'old' Mexico. Two years passed and though the competition was better, the pay was not. Scott, facing impending adulthood, began to reevaluate his love for the profession coupled with an overwhelming spell of homesickness. He would return home with the intent of taking on a straight gig and possibly putting professional wrestling behind him forever.

Upon returning home, it wasn’t long before, Scott found himself back in the squared circle in a local promotion and slowly rising to the top. The prodigal son's return would not go unnoticed and would draw both the adoration and ire of previous acquaintances. The eventual fallout would leave two childhood friends extremely estranged and the love of Scott’s wife in a coma.

Scott, once again, decided to retire from the business and spent his days wasting away at the bedside of his comatose lover. His father frequently visited and encouraged Scott to not forsake his passion in the name of his love. “It’s not what she would have wanted …” his father would remark.

Months passed and Scott’s resolve remained unshaken until his father’s untimely passing. With the family name and lost legacy weighing on his heart; his vigor was restored.

Wrestling Style: Technically skilled with Lucha Influence. Originally trained at the South Park Rec Center in Seattle, but gained his true in-ring education in Mexico. Scott would prefer to keep it clinical but his (albeit fading) youthful exuberance can often cause him to take the ariel risk.

Three Weaknesses:

  • Ring Rust: Scott has had quite the vacation from the ring and may need some time to shake off the rust.
  • Too Anxious: Given the time off and his new found reason for being, Scott will at times rush things in attempt to make up for lost time.
  • Emotional Stability: Just this side of 30, Scott’s past will continually plague him. No matter to what extent he feels it is behind him and easily dismissed.

Three Strengths:

  • Paid Dues: Scott’s had little to no highs in the business with quite a bit of lows. He has felt defeat and loss but more importantly he has traversed many style of opponent.
  • Athleticism: Still in his his prime, Scott is quick on his feet and has maintained his regimine even in his down time.
  • Passionate: Scott’s new found motivation has reminded him of why he fell in love with the business to begin with.


Regular Moves

1) Arm Drag
2) Forearm Smash
3) Drop Kick (Variations)
4) Baseball Slide
5) Drop Toe Hold
6) Russian Leg Sweep
7) Half Crab
8) German Suplex Release
9) Belly to Belly Overhead Suplex
10) Northern Lights Suplex

Trademark moves:

1) Cobra Clutch Bulldog
2) Cobra Clutch Overhead Release Suplex
3) Top Rope Elbow Smash
4) Top Rope Moonsault
5) Hurricanrana

Finishing Move: (The Sub Pop) Fisherman’s Suplex Brainbuster

(I noticed in another app; a conflict with a finishing maneuver and this was the suggested change. But I didn't see it actually changed. So, I just ran with what I have used with Scott before but understand that it may need to be changed.)

John Doe

The Anorexic Ethiopian
Feb 2, 2004
Chicago, IL
100% yes. Especially since we have lost a face it'll give a nice balance. Brian's a good writer. Loved working with him in IWF and he'll def. pull his weight here.


Jan 1, 2000
App is solid, you were active in RLW before Brusch put the fed on hiatus, and I'm already imagining some of the shithead heels in DEFIANCE giving this guy crap because of his backstory. I want to see it. Yes from me.


I stalk, because I care
May 2, 2007
I recruited Brian and encouraged him to post an application. My vote is biased and since I am so new, not sure it would even count, but it's definitely a yes. He's a solid character developer and I personally enjoy reading his work. He would flourish well here if given the chance.

Having history with him I feel like he would also be willing to work with anyone and do whatever is asked of him.

How did you find DEFIANCE? FWCentral and Stalker’s latest viral Nike campaign.

Just do it!

VJ Valentine

Nov 26, 2007
Sorry, I'd checked the app earlier to see if I knew the person applying and then came back to it today and read the whole thing. I like it. The writing is solid, the gimmick is solid, and it seems like you've at least had enough quality handlers eyes on you that they think you'll be a good fit. I say yes, let's give this a shot. I would've preferred a heel, but I've always been of the mindset that if someone is holding their own weight that you can never have too many of those type of handlers.


Feb 29, 2016
I definitely like what i've read in the application. Easy to read writing style that comes across very well. Could be a strong face for heels to work with. Yes from me!


Jan 1, 2000
Alright, plenty of time's elapsed for this to be called.

Brian, please PM me with what you want your username/password to be for backstage site access and I'll take care of that tonight.
Not open for further replies.

About FWrestling

FWrestling.com was founded in 1994 to promote a community of fantasy wrestling fans and leagues. Since then, we've hosted dozens of leagues and special events, and thousands of users. Come join and prove you're "Even Better Than The Real Thing."

Add Your League

If you want to help grow the community of fantasy wrestling creators, consider hosting your league here on FW. You gain access to message boards, Discord, your own web space and the ability to post pages here on FW. To discuss, message "Chad" here on FW Central.

What Is FW?

Take a look at some old articles that are still relevant regarding what fantasy wrestling is and where it came from.
  • Link: "What is FW?"
  • Top