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Travis McCoy · (08-08-2017)

The house is dark. They turned the power off awhile ago. No one here to pay the bills. The hood rat kids haven't discovered the place yet so everything sits exactly how it was left. It looks like a house that has been set up for sale. Perfectly clean, everything in it's place. In the dark it feels like you're an intruder. The only room disheveled is the upstairs bedroom. The master. The bed is unmade and the sheets are stained. The paramedics don't often make the bed once they remove a corpse. This is where Travis has found himself. After Chuck led him to Maine, tricked him into gouging out his eye, and then put him in exactly the right place to bed his half sister, Chuck backed into the distance. Sleeping perhaps. If that's what voices in your head do.

Who gives a fuck.

He's been quiet.

That's all that really matters.

Travis sits in a chair in his parents bedroom. He speaks, but not to you, not to Cadryn, Finn, or even Dolly...yet. He speaks to the almost unnoticeable hum he hears emanating from the spot above his empty eye socket. It almost sounds like breathing. No, he's not sleeping. He's resting. He's wide awake and he's listening.

“I noticed the smell of the house immediately. As soon as I walked in the door I was smacked with the aroma of laundry detergent my mom used, the occasional cigar you smoked. If I closed my eyes I could nearly smell the aroma that would rise from the basement if I decided to open the door near the kitchen. Sweat with an iron tinge of blood. With the smell came thousands of memories. It'd be the broken home kid thing to say that they were mostly bad, but that's untrue. I remember happy moments, mostly moments while you slept. Happy moments with girls snuck in my bedroom window, and board games played with mom. The shame is, now I can't smell it. All I can smell is what you left on the sheets when that old heart of your finally decided to give up. Just like you to ruin a good moment. Because every girl left, every game of monopoly ended. You always woke up.

Until you didn't.

And I wasn't here to see it.

I fucking hated you.

But we all hate at least one of parents right?

But with age we look at their mistakes and we find a place to...Forgive would be the wrong word dad. You know it as well as I do. That a man cannot forgive a broken childhood. But perhaps with time we understand, and I do. Maybe it's you blathering on in my head but I understand now.

I don't get why you had to play your games and convince me to gouge out my eye, or why you had to fuck your daughter, or trick me into fucking her too. I just want to know why. Tell me why it was necessary.”

“You loved it.”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP

IYou've had your turn! You wasted it! You wasted your entire fucking life until I was born. With women and with booze with misdirected hate at the world that didn't give you everything you wanted on a silver fucking platter. The only thing you ever worked for was making me who I am, and that's just because you couldn't get your dick hard anymore you mother fucker!”

“Kind of ironic you calling your dad that all things considered.”

Travis stands slowly.

“You know what? Fuck you boy! You don't know the first thing about me. You never fucking listened

“WHY?!”

“Boy...”

Travis turns and walks to the foot of the bed stepping up on a chest.

“WHY?!”

“What are you doing fucknut? Stop it! get down!”

Travis reaches into his back pocket and pulls out an extension cord. The slipknot is already tied. He ties the free end to an exposed rafter.

“WHY?!”

“ahahahahahahaha you don't have the fucking balls.”

Travis slides his head into the opening.

“Try me.”

Silence. Travis stands perfectly still. The sounds of traffic passing by and loud music waft in the window. People going about their lives completely unaware of what's so close to happening in the empty house. Most of them won't even know who he is when his name pops up in the papers. The room is dark but a streetlight streams in through a window. It catches dust motes floating through the air and their lazy floating journey to wherever it is dust motes go. He casts a perfect shadow on the far wall. From the angle the shadow looks like what the paramedics will find. Just another dead wrestler with a rope around his neck. There will be a blurb in the paper but few will even really care. Maybe one of the 24 hours news channels will run a story about the epidemic of professional wrestlers dead before 50. But it won't matter. He'll be dead, and in 6 months someone with a bigger name will be gone. Added to the list. There will be posts on messages boards from around the world. RIP Travis. Gone before his time. No living family, just the business. Another professional wrestler with CTE hanging from a rafter, Hell at least he didn't have a wife and handicapped kid to take with him.

The voice that breaks the silence isn't Travis but it's not quite the Chuck we're used to either. The voice is soft and scared. Firm as a father should be but gentle as it needs to be.

“You don't understand shit

You're pissed. I personally, can't fathom why. I got you some tail, and when you realized she was a little related to you, I took over. You weren't even there the second time you fucked her boy. You'd already done it and you loved it. Try and deny it but I was hanging out while you did it. You came as hard as a horse. You can't take that back and neither could I. So I did what I wanted to do but I did it then, and now you're asking the same fucking question I've been hearing for decades.

Why?

Why?

Why Dad?

Why'd you trick me into cutting out my own eye and having sex with my half sister?!

Why do you have to be such a mean man daddy?

Why did you make me work so much?

Why did you let those men beat me up?

I was just a kid daddy.

I was just a little boy.

The answer is simple!

I do it because you keep fucking asking, and if you're still asking I haven't done my god damn job yet.

Some day it'll click.

You'll realize that I'm trying to make you a McCoy, not only in name but in spirit. We have been beat and put through the ringer as far back as we go. We've been spit on and cursed. We've been exiled and banned. We're the ugly guy at the end of the bar waiting for an opportunity to spit in your preppy face. We're the guy selling meth in the trailer park. We aren't the bad boy with a heart of gold. We're just bad. And you don't get it. You talk bad, sure. You lay it on thick like all the McCoys before you. But when bad is looking you right in the face you cower. You talk about doing bad things but when you found out you were a few inches deep in you half sister you wanted to run. You wanted to scream. You look in the mirror and honestly feel depressed that you're no longer the pretty boy. Fucking hell boy it was fading anyway. You hairline is receding and your in the business of getting punched in the face. It was never going to last. You want to be the good guy who doesn't go balls deep in your family, even though you were rock hard at the site of her stretch marks 20 minutes prior. You want to be a bad guy but the bad guy the cool kids love. You want to be the Heath fucking Ledger in smeared make up. You want to be an anti hero. See, every man wants to be the hero in his own story. Even if he breaks rules he wants to break them for the right reasons. You want to be the knight in shining armor saving the damsel from a dragon.

No McCoy has ever been any sort of hero.

We are the fucking dragons.

You're still a little boy playing in Daddy's shoes and it's time that boy grows the fuck up and embraces what he's destined to be.

So I'm going to finish what I started. I'm going to make you a man.

A McCoy

I'm going to make that boy something every McCoy has been. A mean ugly bastard who will gladly cut a throat to get one step closer to being something a McCoy has never been.

A champion.

I'm going to make you that too.

I've already taught you how to stand on their throats.

Now I'm going to teach you to enjoy it.

And if it takes me grinding my heel into your adam's apple, so be it. But I'll be damned if you don't look up at me and know I'm loving every fucking second of it.

Because that's what we DO! We're fucking McCoys boy! But we don't fucking give up. That's why I'm not going anywhere son, not until I'm happy with what you've become. You're probably not going to like the way I do things but I know what's best for you. One last thing to think about

You want to know what you'll be if you don't listen to me? What you'd become if I didn't lead you boy?

You'd be boring, you'd be a golly gee whiz good guy.

You'd be Cadryn.

Does anyone really want to be Cadryn?

You wish you were still pretty? You know what you'd be then?

You'd be Finn Kuhn.

Does anyone really want to be Finn Kuhn?

More than anything boy I need you to grow the fuck up. You can keep asking why, you can keep being hurt by shit that happened to you when you were a kid but you know what you'd be then? You'd still be a fucking child.

You'd be Dolly fucking Waters.

Does anyone really want to be Dolly?

I'm done now, I said my piece. If you're gonna do it just fucking do it. Prove me right. Prove to me that you're only a McCoy in name.”

Travis steps off the chest.

The shadow of the noose swings empty.

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Travis sits in the living room of his childhood home. He's in his fathers chair. He's got his head down. The noose still swings upstairs but that was the first time he'd ever stepped foot in that room and it will be the last. He raises his head looking directly at you. He's put in the glass eye he found at the thrift store. It's old, there's no pupil. Just an uneven shattered blue explosion of color in a yellowing white. When he speaks it's all Travis.

“I've been back for one month and in that time I've had two losses and a draw, and yet Cadryn thinks I've racked up some wins and I'm setting XWF on fire with buzz. Why do you think that is? Do you think maybe it's because Cadryn doesn't pay as close of attention as he should?

That's gotta be it because I sure as fuck haven't waved at that bafoon. Do you have any fucking clue how crazy that sounds? That I waved at you? Even a nod in your direction would be totally out of character for me. I wouldn't unroll my skin hose to piss on a burning bus of bastard orphans. I sure as fuck am not waving at an idiot in a jester's cap.

But there is some truth in what Cadryn said. Because while I haven't been racking up wins left and right I've taken modern day legends to their absolute limit. I would of beat Chaos if it wasn't for Jenny. I stood toe to toe with Jim Caedus and he only got the pin on Peter Gilmour because I put Peter down just like I said I would. I didn't get put in this match as a charity case. I've earned more in defeat than most of this roster has with 10 wins. Now this clueless cowboy wants to shuck and jive his way into a verbal war with me?! You came in with your hands down kid. Now I'm going to knock you on your ass.

I already know what you're going to say. 'Ya Travis I haven't been paying attention, you haven't even made a blip on my radar YEEEEHAW' So here's a preemptive fuck you. I acknowledge I've lost two matches to three top level talents I also acknowledge that you're a blithering idiot who shouldn't open his mouth with out first doing the tiniest bit of research.

How the fuck is anyone supposed to believe you stand a chance against me when it's obvious you don't even know what you're stepping in the ring with? I've known guys like you my entire life. I grew up in Missouri, my mom's family was from Missourah, out on the Ozarks. Plaid shits and wranglers with a well worn ring in their back pocket from a can of Skoal. Probably a belt buckle nearly as large as the clip you hold your cell phone in. A truck lifted to give you those couple extra inches god didn't give you in your dick. First guy to call the shy kid a

and the first to play grab ass in the locker room. Constantly wearing camo, like your hiding from the secret feelings you get for Luke Bryan. You're not hiding boyo. Those jeans don't leave much room for imagination when your blood starts to flow.

I was surrounded by assholes like you.

I fucking hated you guys.

Maybe I'm wrong bud, maybe that's not you, maybe you've evolved over time. Maybe you started as a lackey, as the comic relief to someone a bit more grave. Perhaps over time you've become a lackey to self proclaimed royalty with a somehow goofier hat, and fuck, maybe you tossed a bit of gold over your shoulder because once you were pretty fucking good, but from what I've seen, you're just an idiot trying to sound in touch. Just a coal country cunt trying to be one of the boys. If you've ever been a threat to anyone, find that place, turn up the volume and come at me with something worth listening to. Not that it will change the outcome, but at least I'll have fun leading to the PPV.

I started with you because you worry my the least Caddy. I'm going to beat you first for the fans sake. For the buyrate, for your sake. Because no one wants to see you outclassed any more. It's embarrassing. So go home, find out what you've lost and come back a better man. Until then I'm going to worry about the other future victims.

Finn, quick question to start things.

You and Jon.

That's a gay thing right?

It's fine if it is, I mean. I loved the lord of the rings and those little hobbit dudes looked at each other the same way you two lock eyes. The way you check up on each other. The way he's worried when you don't call. I think you do have those feeling Finn. The only time you don't sound robotic is when you're looking into his eyes. There's something there son, and if you have those same feelings for him you should go for it. Life's too short to not fuck a bit of dude ass if you want to.

And time is even shorter for you. Nine times out of ten you move past any opponent that muscles toward you ya? 1 was Jack Cain, and then well, 8 out of 10 because Neville beat you, and now 7 out of 10 because you're next boyo. After I get rid of the jester I'm gonna set my sights on the pretty boy robot. The difference between the way I see you, and the way I see Cadryn, is that while Cadryn has shown me nothing, I think you've shown me your best.

Your ceiling is my floor boyo.

So train with all the old XWF stars you can find.

Deny the raging hard on Jon gives you.

Do your very fucking best kid.

Let that brain of yours find all the flaws in my logic. Dice them apart bit by bit. Play the bit where I stutter over my words over and over until you find the perfect retort. Call me soft skulled and blinded by rage. Point out all the times I repeat myself. I know you stand a head above Cadryn but I want to see it. I want to see you flame up before I put you down because then I know I've accomplished something. Bring your very fucking best kid because I know you've got it in you.

It's just not going to be good enough.

You're getting there kid, hearing voices, murdering wrestlers. Hell kid it's almost like you're a fan of mine. The problem is Finn we don't believe the emotion. We don't believe you when you say you're going to be universal champion because you don't believe it. You're just a good looking kid trying to convince himself while he convinces the world, and it don't work like that boyo. So I'm going to put you down second, and I'm really going to enjoy it because you've got something kid.

You just haven't found it yet.

And just like that it'll come down to two. Just me and a crazy child. This is the part where I dismiss you because you're a child Dolly right? This is the part where the big strong man overlooks you because you're just a dumb kid from a backwoods state.

Truth is Dolly.

I'm not going to do that.

Because you remind me of myself kiddo.”

Travis stands from his chair before getting down on both knees. His face softens and...he smiles. When he speaks his voice is soft and scared. Gentle as a big brother needs to be, firm as he should be.

“I'm not going to pretend to be a pedophile, I'm not going to dismiss you because of your age. I'm just going to talk to you kid because I think you need it. I see myself in all of you. I've been doing this a long long time. Over half of my life I've been bickering with men of every shape and size. With wizards and giants, with jackalopes and mad hatters. I entered the business as a fresh faced 13 year old. Just a bit younger than you are now Dolly. I was a good looking athletic kid. Just like Finn is now. I wanted so badly to fit in with the boys. I smiled and I laughed and I waved as these grizzled veterans passed me in the halls. Just like Cadryn does now.

I see the worst parts of me in all of you. Each of you a perfect representation of something that held me back, something that went wrong. Each something I had to conquer. Each a trait that with time this business beat out of me. They took one look at my face and they wanted me to be the champion for the kids. The good guy. It was never truly in me. My father wouldn't allow it. With time the business physically broke my bones and my features until I looked like this. I wanted to fit in, I wanted to be liked and it got me no where. It got me stabbed in the back and left beaten. The betrayal mentally beat me into a position that I had no choice but the become the bad guy. If I allow Cadryn or Finn to survive king of the ring and they manage to stick this out as long as I have they'll become their own version of me.

Old,

ugly and broken,

Fed up up and full of hate.

I could of given into the fact that I was going to lose my good looks and my chiseled abs. I could of rebelled against my blood and been the hero even though it would of never truly fit. I would have been trying to convince myself while I tried to convinced the world, and that's just not how it works kid. I could of went with my gut and tried to be liked by the fans and my peers, but I would of ended up in a stupid hat, the weakest link in self proclaimed royalty. Finn and Cadryn will make the mistakes I already made. Mistakes I could of avoided but they'll do it because they're in too deep. The one thing I could never change, the one path in my life that was set by someone else was the fact that I never had a childhood. So I see you Doll, and it breaks my heart...”

Travis' voice cracks and he looks down.

“I see you and I hear the way you speak and I know that you're not going to walk away. So I wonder, how can I save this little girl? How can I save this precious child? The answer is clear and it hurts worst of all.

I've got to hurt you Dolly.

I'm fucking sorry kid but I've got to hurt you really fucking bad.

I'm not going to kill you kid, I'm gonna try not to maim you.

But you're so damn driven. So hard headed...

I'm gonna have to fuck you up to save you.

Sorry Dolly.

It's the only way

Maybe some day you'll thank me.”

FADE

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