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Travis McCoy · (05-07-2016)

“My first real diagnosed head injury was the result of being hit with a rather large, rather sturdy tea pot.
Mad Hatter type left me sitting on the floor with a large slab of porcelain sticking out of my forehead and a cracked skull. I was in a coma for 6 months.

Ya

That's the business we're in.

Sometimes I wake up dizzy in a cold sweat and I'm not sure if I ever woke up. I look around and I see men like Kid Kool taken as serious competitors. I see men with supernatural powers and another guy who's entire gimmick is his dick and what he puts it in. Tell me, is it crazier that that's all real or that I'm having a vivid coma dream?

The doctor told me when I woke up that I needed to find a new career. I didn't tell him he was a big fibber pants and stumble out of the hospital. I didn't plug my ears while screaming liar liar pants on fire. I heard him. I listened to every word. As he talked about symptoms I should already have that I knew I did. Tremors, memory loss, lack of self control, poor impulse control. Check, check, check, double check.

But I did listen, I believed every word he said I and I did care. I don 't have a death wish, as miserable as I sound, I prefer living to the alternative. But my life with out wrestling wouldn't be living. It'd be like spending every night in a sweaty club screaming shitty pickups lines to girls with glazed over eyes.

Sad

Pathetic

Worse than death.

See, I heard him. I took it in and then I chose to keep doing what I do. Because dying doing this would be better than living doing anything else. Covering my ears and singing Landslide at the top of my lungs would have been an idiotic cowards way.

Right Darren?

No, that's not how Darren see's it. Darren is too cool for school ladies and gentleman. If a doctor told him his brain was a timebomb Darren would flip up the collar on his leather jacket throw a toothpick in that doctor mans face and say,

'nah'

You idiot.

You self deluded dullard.

Darren would fucking NO SELL a death sentence.

If you believe that then you were probably a big fan of Darren's Paul Walker reference. So current, so trendy, much #respect.

No, you see. Darren is really fucking #kewl. Darren may be a pretty boy but he's suuuuuper tough. So, if a doctor told him he had brain damage and that wrestling would kill him Darren be all like, 'no dude, you're wrong. I don't care anyway fancy doctor guy, I'm just here for some oxies fo my bitches!'

Darren references beloved actors (that were pedophiles, google it) who were in really terrible movies. Darren is a pretty boy and he parties but he's actually a really good fighter! You see, he spends all night in random clubs doing WACKY things like pissing on the shoes of actors who were in cult TV shows! You know, because he's cool and he gets it! He's definitely not trying too hard. Nope, Darren is aloof except when it comes to WRESTLING! His finger is on the pulse my man. He calls basketball B-Ball because he knows how the kids talk these days! He shoots like Shaq dude. Shoots...like...shaq.

Darren is definitely really sure of himself. There's no way that he delivers his promos into the mirror first trying to convince himself he means it.

Even you know you're a fucking joke kid.

I never put you down for being new. I put you down for being shit. I put you down for having no backbone and being a watered down Fernando. At this point, I wonder if you actually watched my promo or if you had a script somewhere and you added my name in. You don't exude anything bright. You're the class clown trying too hard to be the party boy. You reek of booze and your eyes are bloodshot, from the drugs or crying I'm not sure. You're playing a sad club life for laughs that never come. You're a handsome guy that watched Austin Fernando and adopted some hash tags and called it an original character.

I don't give two shits about you being cocky. You're right, it's the only way to survive here. But while we're talking about it. The difference between what I do, and what you do, is that my confidence is real. My confidence comes from a long time of earning it. I got this way by walking through cum dumpsters like you. I, as your so readily admit, have substance. You sound like your trying to convince yourself. The main thing about you that offends me is that you're booked against me. Because you're a waste of my time. That first promo is proof. Play it off as you appealing to the warfare crowd but the truth is I had to sit through that because you thought it was entertaining. You thought that bullshit would get a laugh, it fell as flat as your washboard abs and you needed to back out. Then you watched my promo on fast forward and rushed to the nearest camera.

I get it though, 'I'm a brash pretty boy but under all the partying I love to fight! I am super handsome but my hands are greasy!' You're the lead character in an early 2000's backyard MMA movie. You unoriginal cunt. Your fans are the same people that fill up five finger death punch concerts. The guys who line up the see fast and the furious movies and actually thought a reference to Paul Walker was #superbadass.

No one is sleeping on me Cobra Kai. Superstar of the month didn't happen by accident. I got the better of Tush, regardless of the story he'll tell. I took Makavelli to a draw, a match that only ended that way because Ophelia is a bigger piece of garbage than you are. If I'm putting you to sleep, then perhaps you should start taking Adderal as prescribed instead of crushing it and snorting it off a hookers ass. No, I'm not wearing tassels and flashing hashtags and pictures throughout my promos. But I must be doing something right ya?

Truth is, I'm disgusted you exist. This is a well worn trope in McCoy promo's because this place is full of guys who disgust me. You're not even special in making me hate you. I plan on not just beating you. I plan on spitting in your face, I plan on grinding my forearm into your nose until it turns to mush. I want to leave my mark on your grill. I want you to have to look in the mirror every day and remember you shouldn't have crossed Travis McCoy. Getting right down to it, I want to erase you completely. Because there is no place in my world for a boy like you, and this is my world now. You bother me by being on the card across from me and in general, it bothers me you're on any card ever, anywhere.

It irks me that someone will watch what I do and might catch a glimpse of the garbage you call a promo. It perturbs me that we fill out the same occupation. It gets under my skin that there is an ever so slight chance that if I tell someone I'm a wrestler they could say 'oh, like Kid Kool'. That that name and my name have even the slightest relation makes me want to burn down every club in the country in the hopes that I may catch you in the inferno.

We're nothing alike, dipshit.

We're different species.

And your kind is going extinct.”

FADE

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