OOC. This song is Mr H and Travis' entrance. Give it a listen. We love it as an entrance theme.
Travis stands alone in the bathroom of the warehouse. His hands are on each side of a sink that has no running water. The mirror is smeared and dirty. He has his head down and he's breathing through his mouth, each breath throwing the red life juice into the sink in bubbles and splatters. A crimson banksy art piece in the dry sink. The blood drips off him and pools in the bottom of the sink. His hands are smeared with blood, some of his own, some of his tag partner. Through the blood his knuckles are bruised and beginning to swell.
Travis' shirt is torn and bloody, he peels it off and wipes his face. He looks into the camera revealing a horror show. The blood sticks in his beard. The skin of his face is streaked in pink and bits of gore. His nose is definitely broken. He touches it gingerly, quickly pulling his hand away as if it was hot. He gently places his fingers on either side of the bridge of his nose. He closes his eyes takes a deep breath and with one well practiced motion he snaps it back into place. He grunts opening his now watering eyes. He stares into the reflection. His nose is the worst of it, Mr. H added another turn to the winding road he calls his nose. Oh well, he wasn't pretty to begin with. He runs his fingers over a scar on his neck, remembering laying motionless on the floor of a bingo hall. He moves to a scar running from his hairline to his eye brow. That was from a tea pot. I shit you not. A mad hatter character shattered it off his skull and left him in a coma for months. There's a steel plate below it now. He can't help but see his crooked fingers. Broken more times than he can count. He grins savagely checking his teeth. Stained pink but all there, this time. He snorts spitting a disgusting mess of blood and snot into the murder scene of a sink.
“Do you fucking get it now?
Do you understand the confidence I carry myself with?
That is who I've been competing with for over a decade.
Do you get why I dismiss nearly all of you?
Because for ten years I've stared into the eyes of a painted monster and lived to tell the tale.
The Jackalope
The best I've ever seen not staring in a mirror.
We aren't friends. Maybe once, years ago but now?
We are brothers without love.
We are enemies without hate
We are a nuclear bomb wrapped in history.
Entwined in respect
Inseparable
With out Mr. H there is no Travis
and with out Travis there is no Mr. H.
What I've been here, up till today was incomplete
I didn't have my foil
I didn't have my other half
We've been through the same fire.
And from that pyre we have risen.
I brought him here. Because despite your best attempts you just don't get it. Luca has begun to see, Fern has acknowledged it but they don't really feel it. They can't, because they haven't been through what I have Because that desperation that pushes me. Mr. H understands because it beats in him the same. He's been through what I have. He watched as I told the world about my legacy. He rode shotgun while I talked about it for hours. We are the best my former world had to offer and we unite to take over the X-treme Wrestling Federation. Fuck the cliché, I don't care if that's been said countless times by countless schmucks. It's never been uttered by a man like me with a partner like Mr. H.”
Travis grabs a bottle of water and dumps it in his face doing his best to remove the blood. He grabs a duffle bag and exits the bathroom. He walks slowly through the halls, dragging his fingers along the walls leaving trails of blood. He reaches the door with an exit signing barely hanging above it. He opens the door and exits closing the door behind him. He reaches into the duffel bag and pulls out a lock and chain. He chains the doors shut. He stands for a moment placing his palm and forehead on the door.
“My childhood made me. At least two generations of failure made me. Waking up every day and learning from a man who failed to win, failed to protect himself, watching him wheel himself around failing to even walk. That made me. Ten years of fed death MADE me. Ten years of promises broken. Ten years of Mr. H. Since the day I was born I've had my nose rubbed in failure like a dog's nose in shit. I can shower and scrub my skin till it bleeds and I still feel it soaking in my pours. I can win every match I am in and in the end I see my last name and it screams back at me in my fathers voice 'NOT ENOUGH!'. I can't stop though. I can't just walk away. I tried and it left me empty Because just like Mr. H, I'm not good at anything else. I can't function without getting my hands around someone's throat. If I wasn't here I'd be murdering hookers, and even then I'd hear my father's voice telling me I was wasting my talent. 'Those whores don't even fight back Travis'. It's all one failure after another. This building is the culmination of it all. My childhood led me to wrestling, wrestling led me to the place I met Mr. H, the constant failure of that place led me to pouring my own money into this, and in the end I failed at that. I couldn't raise it from the ashes.”
Travis begins to walk away and a man comes out of the darkness.
Mr. H.
He stops Travis.
“Can't leave quite yet Travie.
You're gonna want to see this.
And it'll look super cool for the people at home.
Symbolism and all that jazz”
Mr. H turns Travis around and they stand shoulder to shoulder staring back at the warehouse as it bursts into flames. They stand with their backs to us, framed in the flames of another failed fed. They stare into an inferno. Their old world going up in literal flames. Sirens begin to wale in the distance. Mr. H looks back over his shoulder. The flames painting his face with oranges and yellows. He smiles into the camera looking like the painted monster he is. Travis looks as well. The shadows making him look older, he looks like the old man who started him on this path. He looks like his father, he looks like his grandfather. He looks like a fucking McCoy.
“Told ya so."
...
....
.....
......
.......
Delayed.
The fucking airport, again. It's late and the airport is fairly deserted. Lambert isn't one of the highest trafficked airports and this late at night it's a ghost town. Travis sits in a chair he looks uncomfortable in. He's trying to sleep but he's just too damn big for the chair. He attempts to adjust but it does no good. His eyes are black but the swelling has gone down. He'll be good as new by the time his match comes around. He's still shooting bloody snot rockets every so often but it's not the first time and won't be the last. He laughs as he speaks, perhaps not out of humor but at least from exhaustion
“I'm walking into this match less than a week after going to war with my tag partner. Not even a fucking match. We just beat the hell out of each other in a broke ass ring because we had to. Because neither of us could of move on until we did. I should be at home in bed. Right? No way should I step in the ring with the X-treme Wrestling Federations best tag teams!!
Your best ain't shit
Looking at your Ferngotti.
Because lets get this straight. You are the best. Those titles you carry around prove it. In a world where Peter Gilmour is respected, where the biggest title this company has rests around the waist of an 80's hair metal guy, where a win over Ginger Snaps is something people brag about. OK, ya, I'll give you your due. You're better than those guys. Ya...you guys are the best. Congrats! Luca's a bit better than Fern but what does my opinion matter? I mean, I've heard everyone talk about Fern riding Luca's coat tails but I have no frame of reference. I can just tell you what I see, and that is, that Luca is better. Fern you know that right? I'm not saying you're bad (you are(parenthesis are FUN RIGHT?!)). You seem to hold your own. I'm just saying that in a land of midgets you're a hair taller than the rest and Luca is almost a full grown man.
I'm so flattered you're both fans! They like me! They really really like me! I'm glad you'd admit what everyone else is thinking. Did you think if you came at me with respect that you'd tilt my game? Did you think because I'm so damn angry, that if you said nice things, I wouldn't know how to respond? I'm not a walking ego like you two. A verbal stroking won't make me cum and fall asleep. Isn't that how you two got together?
'hey dude I #respect you'
'no way bro, I #respect you too'
'wanna go do #molly and talk about how #much we like each other'
'#You'reGonnaTellMeYouLikeMeMoreRight!?'
'totally broseph, you like me too right?'
Disgusting.
I don't want your respect
I want your fucking head.
Respect only means so much in this industry.
Gold means more.
Gold means everything.
Fern.
Ya, I fucking hate you. It's true. I think you're everything wrong with the world. Your very presence here made me second guess signing my contract. You know that though. Did Zane tell you that? Because I told him when he reached out to try and bring me under his umbrella. How do you like that Fern? This old dog was wanted by the same man who has you under his thumb. Don't be confused, son. Just because you hadn't heard my name two months ago doesn't mean I'm not established. I've got a list of wins longer than the list of girls currently accusing you of sexual assault. I don't dislike you because you're young. I dislike you because you're a dumb cunt. I dislike you because you because you're you. It's really that fucking simple.
You're right.
I'm not you.
And I thank a God I don't believe in every day, that I'm not.
Some day Fern, you're gonna get old. You're gonna look back on this bullshit and you're going to recoil the same way I do watching you now. You're gonna wonder how you were ever so fucking stupid. Your hashtags are the fanny pack of tomorrow. You wanna know why I went at The Union? Because your dumb ass hadn't opened his mouth yet. Too busy being led around by your scumbag manager. I honestly thought you wouldn't show up after you let your singles title go. To Frodo by the way. How you can stand and act like a tough guy when that guy took your belt is amazing. I don't give two shits if the deck was stacked against you. It was FRODO!
Fuck your warnings. Fuck your 'hot fiyah'. Fuck your blatant disregard for the English language.
IT'S FUCK BOY FOR FUCKS SAKE!
Fuck you Fern. I can't wait for this old dog to put you in your fucking place. I can't wait to watch your first promo after H and I walk out with the titles. Whats the hashtag gonna be then? What's the excuse gonna be? Can Fern take a loss humbly? How can Fern take an ass beating? That will be the first time I'm ever interested in a thing you have to say. I don't have much else to say to you boy. So I'm gonna move on to your partner now.
He interests me more.
Luca, it's funny that you compare me to a phoenix because that's exactly what I am. Your time line is just wrong. I've already been through the fire. I've known the taste of ash. I stand before you dusting it off. I am the reincarnation.
You can tell me over and over that you like me, that you respect my drive. But you obviously don't get it, because you still think you'll be the one to stop me. If you honestlygot it. If you really understood it you'd know that it will be at your expense. Not because I don't like you (I don't) but because you're the next guy in my way. Because I am stepping to Ferngotti. I'm stepping to you because I have zero respect for you. I respect those belts but the men behind them deserve nothing from me. Your schtick disgusts me. Sure, you're not doing it this week, because you can't. You claiming it was a way to even the field is the same as Tush claiming he threw the battle royale.
Bullshit.
The honest truth was when I saw the stipulation I was upset. I wanted to have to suffer through that shit all week because it would of made what I'm going to do to you feel so much better. But once it was all stripped away I found something. I don't like you Luca, but you do excite me. See, every now and then in this business you stumble across someone and even if you hate them (I do) there is a tickle in your loins. You're the kind of guy I could drag into the fire. You're the kind of guy that given time, we could do something special..
I don't like you,
I don't respect you,
and that's the fucking point.
You know, I don't think this is going to end with me and you after this week. I think I'm gonna dig my heels in and I think I'm gonna keep coming at you till they have to scrape you off my boots. How would you like that Luca? I'm gonna beat you over and over until the names Luca and Travis are as entwined as me and H's are. Tell me about your family, Luca. Do you have sisters? Do you like them? I could find them. You know that right? Who means a lot to you? How about that Tigris lady? Do you love her Luca? Or is she just a warm hole? See, because you see my drive but I want you to understand it. I want you to really get it. You don't understand what that drive will drive me to do.
The funny thing is, it's too late Luca. I've made up my mind. I want you,
![[-]](https://xwf99.com/images/portal2/collapse.gif)
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