CONTINUED FROM PLEASURE AND PAIN PART 1:

The phone rang as Chris sat on the porch. It was an 813 number, Tampa. He answered.

"Chris......"

It was a voice he didn't recognize.

"Yes?"

"You need to come to Tampa General. It's Nicole".

That voice hit him like a knife being stabbed through flesh. Piercing.

He had given up on Nicole. He had ruined her life, and left her to die. Just like she had done with him so long ago.

"Tampa General? Why?"

"No time, get here. There isn't much time left."

"I am in California. It is a 5 hour flight and I am planning to leave for overseas soon. This can't be a a waste of my time."

"Is it a waste of time to say goodbye?"

Chris sat still for a second. He was frozen. Almost paralyzed.

Without thinking, he hung up the phone.

"Jen.....change the plane tickets....we are making a pit stop."

She looked at him inquisitively.

"We are making a pit stop in Tampa."

..........

On the plane, Chris remembered the good times with Nicole, but the bad couldn't help rearing their ugly head. He remembered back to that party.

The party that changed it all.

"You wanna hit this?" Nicole asked, coughing.

Chris shook his head, putting his hand up. He got piss tested for basketball, but cheerleaders never got tested. She could do what she wanted.

"Suit yourself" she said with a giggle. She took another huff of the joint.

The party was loud with music blaring. A cloud of smoke covered the ceiling, and it was difficult to see the television. Underage drinking was running rampant, and there had already been a few fights. He didn't care about any of it, as long as Nicole was safe.

But she was making bad decisions left and right. She brought the beer to her mouth, finishing a big swig with a laugh as her friends gossiped about their peers and how terrible their hair and nails were. Chris was probably the only one here who didn't come from an $800,000 house. Hell, you could barely call it a house. He didn't belong with these people, but he belonged with Nicole.

Nicole grabbed her keys and headed out to the 711. They were going on a blunt run. But something wasn't right. Something didn't feel right. There was a guy who had been staring at her the entire time in the house. Grilling Chris and looking at Nicole with a look in his eyes that can only be described as lust. He was a friend of Jason's. They had recently broken up for the 50th time, and Jason didn't come to the party. But this guy had.

"I will go with you" Chris said quickly. "I need to get a Monster anyway, feeling a little tired."

Nicole was more than happy to allow him to come. He knew deep down she was just rebounding off Jason, but a little company could be nice.

They got out to her car and and she unlocked it. She had the luxury of unlocking hers with the fab, not the key like he had to. Hell, he still had roll windows and it was two thousand fucking six.

But for some reason, her car wouldn't start. Goddamnit.

"Here, lets take mine. Worry about yours later."

They got into Chris's car and he shifted into gear. As he drove......he saw the car lights behind him.

The car beind him began to speed up, to get closer to them. It was almost running them off the road.

"What the fuck Chris, what is going on?"

He didn't answer, focusing on the head lights. He knew what this was. This was supposed to look like an accident, to run them off the road, make it look like Chris was in the car with Nicole when they went off the road......to shame him in the newspapers that a low income boy was driving reckless and killed a prominent and promising young rich girl who had steered down the wrong path.

"Oh hell no" he said, turning quickly down a side road. The car behind him didn't waver. Almost as if expecting the sudden turn, it followed close, almost touching bumpers.

He made another turn. So did the other car. Nicole was beginning to panic now.

"Should I call 911?"

"No. There is no proof. As soon as the lights come he will back off. We need to lose him."

"Oh god....why do you always put me in these situations?!"

That hit him. Why did he? I mean, he didn't, Jason did technically, but she would never admit that. Chris was easier to blame. He was always easier to blame.

Just then Chris got a text. He took the phone out of his pocket. "Nic....check this. I have to focus on the road."

With a sigh she flipped the phone open and pressed the button. He could hear her reading under her breath.

"London Square" she said, "they have Tommy."

"They?"

She had to choke back the name. When she got it out, it came out shaky. "Jason."

Immediately his face changed. This was the last straw. He changed course and made a U-Turn. He was going to end this once and for all.

First Nicole now his best friend.

When they pulled up to the apartment complex, he noticed the car was no longer behind him. He slammed it into park and the E-break almost broke from the force.

"Stay here.....I'll be back."

She refused. "No, Chris, I am coming with you. If this is true, I need to see it for myself. He told me he was done with this."

"Stay here."

"NO!"

She was out of the car before he was. Spunky, as always. Spunky, to a fault.

He followed after. Getting to the front door of the apartment, they didn't even need to buzz. As soon as they got to the door, it buzzed open.

Someone was expecting them.

They walked up the steps to the 3rd floor apartment and knocked on the door. The smell was repugnant. Like cat piss. Wasn't this supposed to be a nice complex?

Knock

Knock

Knock

There was shuffling inside. Muffled, but voices.

More shuffling.

Finally, after several minutes, the door opened.


He saw Tommy sitting on the couch. Two guys were standing in front of him, preventing him from getting up.

"Come in. Oh, I see you brought her", the way he said her sounded spiteful.

The door shut behind them.

"So here is the deal.....come into the bedroom, let's talk."

"Here is fine."

"No, here is not fine. Lets talk in the bedroom."

Chris felt what felt like a gun in his back. He knew it wasn't, Jason was too much of a pussy for that.

He walked into the bedroom.

"Your boy Tommy has been causing some problems for me. He put my little brother in the hospital from a fight at a party. So here is the deal.....this ends between us......but all you need to do is go out there and slap him in the face and we are going to jump him. You can walk out and this is over with us."

Chris was taken aback.

"I---I can't do that. Tommy has been a good friend to me. He has done nothing to me."

"It is you or him" Jason snarled, without letting Chris get the full word "me" out.

"I can't. I have honor, that wouldn't be something you do to a true friend. Not that you would know, all your friends are bought."

Jason smiled and laughed a little to himself.

"Fine."

He pulled Chris out of the bedroom. Pointing to Tommy he said to the two guys "let him up."

Tommy stood up, ready to fight. Just then, eight others came out of the bathrooms and the closets. Pointing at him again, he said, "you, leave." Tommy, without hesitation, saw the men and nodded, damn near running out the door.

What the fuck?! He had refused to put him in this situation but he was quick to turn his back.

Chris looked at the guys. They had bats.

Looking at Nicole he said "take my keys. Go sit in the car."

"No" she said, "I can't let you do thi--"

"GO SIT IN THE CAR"

He gave her the keys and she left, with some hesitation and tears in her eyes.

Chris turned, and began swinging.

****////****

Driving back home, his entire body hurt. His face, especially.

His shirt was ripped with a bloody mark. He could still picture it. They held him down with a knife to his throat. "DO IT!" Chris remembered yelling. "DO IT!" But Jason couldn't. He hesitated. Chris then squirmed, and the knife came down and scraped his chest. As soon as the red showed through his white shirt, they all scrambled. It was all too real now.

They pulled up Nicole's house. They both sat for a second, before getting out and he walked her up to the door like a true gentleman. Her father answered.

"What the hell happened to you?" he asked.

"I got elbowed in a pick up game." He nodded, but he didn't believe him.

As soon as the door shut, and Nicole was inside, she spilled the beans. She told them all.

He wasn't allowed to see her anymore. And the cops came to his door the next day.......endargering the welfare of a minor. He left his house in cuffs for something he didn't even do.

****////****

Chris stood at Nicole's bedside in Tampa General. Jenny waited outside. This didn't look like the Nicole he knew. Her face was sunken, her skin was a pale yellow. Her body was skinny, too skinny.

"I loved you" he said quietly"But all you did was hurt me."

She was in a medically induced coma from a heroin overdose. Her body didn't respond to the narcan. She had been out for nearly 5 minutes before the EMT's found her.

"And I can't let you control me anymore."

The machines beeped and buzzed. She was breathing through a tube.

"I need to let go."

He waited for the nurse to leave and he walked over to her machine. He pulled all the wires out......

Walking out of the room he nodded to Jenny...."come on....I have another charity case to kill".

She followed suit, looking back at the nurses and doctors rushing into the room.

TO BE CONTINUED.



"My god, just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, Travis spends 486 words--yes, I counted--talking about how difficult it is to be a father. 486 words he could have used to verbally rip my colon from my body, instead he uses to tell us how hard being father is. Travis should stick to internet blogging, and leave the XWF microphones to the pros. But here is my question---this daughter that you find is so difficult to raise---is she even yours, Travis? The timeline just doesn't add up. Your last match, as far as I can tell, was May of 2016. Then you went into a coma, though I am not sure exactly when, but there is a 3 month gap in there. Are you SURE it is yours? Or when you were breathing through a machine and eating your mashed potatoes through a straw your wife needed attention that your shriveled dick couldn't provide and ended up getting her stupid ass knocked up? Is your entire life a lie?

You see......I don't think you were making the coma thing up. It is documented....it is part of your bio when you were re-signed here. So, which is it? You were in a coma and your baby isn't yours? Or you were never in a coma and there is still a good chance that she isn't yours? A lot of people here let you all in on their back stories, and yes a lot of them seem crazy and over the top, but not a single one of them includes them being damn near medically dead. You're right, you're not very good at this game. But I think it is true, and I think you don't even know who you are anymore. I think you're so fucked up in that cranium of yours that you don't know that the truth is anymore. Two promos, completely different, with two conflicting stories. I mean, Jesus Travis, if you are going to spew bullshit, a little consistency in your bullshit would be nice.

But lets say your bullshit story, both of them, are true. Just for fucks sake. Every time you look into the eyes of that baby girl.......you can see her future can't you, Travis? You can see that she is going to be just like you.....nothing but a loser. She is going to get into drugs, hang out with a bad crowd, and not take school seriously. She is going to spread her legs for any over gelled Axe-body-spray jock who pays her a lick of attention and end up getting knocked up ay 16 isn't she? She's going to drop out of school, pick up a drug habit, have the child she screamed out of her twat taken by CPS, and end up being a backpage.com escort to pay for her drug habit while the entire basis for her existence slips gradually off the grid. That is what she is destined for, isn't it Travis?

Because she is being raised by you. And your family history shows that you are nothing but a loser. Your grandfather, your father.....and now you are a father. Well, how is a "broken man" going to be a good father? How is a man who has never had a father worth a shit going to know how to be a father?

If I were you Travis......I would hope she ISN'T yours.....then maybe she will have a chance in this world. Your tainted loins are the epitome of failure. She would be better off if your babymomma did cheat on you.

How can you face that? When you go home after losing in Belgium, how can you go home and look in your maybe-baby's eyes and tell her you lost to the better man? How can you tell her that it will be tough to provide for her now because the most dangerous man on the roster caved your fucking skull in and you are forced to retire? How can you tell her you are nothing but a has been? It's your child's mother growing distant, because you're so fucking tired you can't give her the attention she needs.

Or, the fact that maybe when you can give it, it just isn't good enough. She's grown tired of you Travis, but not because you are tired. But because she is exhausted at having to put up with your excuses, your mistakes, and your terrible vanilla bland stories. If you bore her like your promos bore me, no wonder your child probably isn't yours. No wonder she's pregnant again. No wonder she wants a new relationship......

No wonder you've failed, AGAIN.

You wouldn't give that little girl up for the world? What happens when she is old enough to realize how much of a fuck up you are and she leaves you just like everyone else in your pathetic life?

What then?

Travis......my back stories that I allow people to see, ninety percent of the time, have to do with Nicole...the one who DID rip my heart out of my body. The one who made me the cold hearted bastard I am today. The one who made it impossible to fully embrace what I have with Jenny. Who made it impossible to trust again. But here you go again with the bullshit. You are pissed about people whose backstories seem outlandish and brash, but you change yours up because the concussed hallucinations don't allow you to remember which lie you came up with before and you make the excuse that we don't care? Didn't you just say a few sentences earlier that it is the out of the ring stories that bring notoriety around here?

Which is it? A cool set up story, or nobody gives a fuck?

I thought James Raven was a pretentious prick, holy fuck. You may be the worst case of identity crisis since Micheal Graves was a demon, then David Schwimmer, then a demon again. Nobody takes you seriously here, Travis, because you can't even take yourself seriously.

You don't get a pat on the back because you don't deserve one. Nobody who gets their career ended by Kristen Silver, gets damn near blinded by kid Kool, then draws with John Holliday, but talks like they are the next Universal Champion and a "God Among Men" and they are some unstoppable force gets respects. Deserves respect. Commands respect. None of it. You weren't anything before you walked back through these doors and when you leave that castle in Belgium, you still aren't going to be shit.

And just when I thought that the verbal diarrhea couldn't get any worse, you open your dick trap and say that we don't need to be self congratulatory? That we don't need to pat ourselves on the back? What else do we have? I mean, just because you don't have any accomplishments to speak of and can't think of one thing other than being in a coma and looking for sympathy, doesn't mean guys like me can't. I have done a lot here, and I am going to add being the next King of the XWF to my resume. I am ready to own that. You will be left in my trail of dust and I will never think about you again. I hate beating a dead horse here......but look at Steve Davids.

If he had beaten me in his big comeback, if he had slain the beast and won the first match he had fought in in god knows how long, he would have been catapulted to the top. But he didn't. He lost. And what has he been since? Steve Davids, the once prestigious Steve Davids, is struggling to keep his head above water and his doggy paddle is tiring rapidly. I buried him. And I am going to bury you.

I've tried to play the way they want me to and it feels fake. It feels phoney. It feels like absolute bullshit

The only thing that feels like complete bullshit here, Travis, is everything you claim you stand for. People say I contradict myself a lot, but holy shit. You are broken, or you have something to live for? You spent 6 months in a coma or your daughter is really yours? Which is it? I bet on yes coma and no daughter, like I said before. I fully intend to see you on Maury, awaiting the results of that manila folder with baited breath, and tear in your eyes. You will have plenty of time for TV shows when you're sitting home watching me win this entire damn thing.


I don't enjoy showing you all my personal struggle, and no one honestly gives a fuck what I'm doing or struggling with.

That may have merit if anyone here knew what the fuck you were struggling with. Hell I may even reach out and dap you, tell you to keep your head before I kicked your head off your shoulders. But when you fire off a promo about a struggle, then say you were lying and give us a different struggle---which by the way, isn't really a struggle and would probably piss off all the single moms out there who deal with the same thing and never bitch---then you lose a little bit of credibility. So you are damn right it hurts your standing here. The BEST thing that can happen to you is losing to me, because then you will have plenty of time to think up a new bullshit story before you drag your carcass back into the ring for another loss. Or maybe they will put you up against a BX3 member....hell, you could maybe eek out a draw versus one of them.

Maybe.

I don't hate you, Travis, I don't. Like Jenny told Thomas Nixon, I don't care enough about you to hate you. I strongly dislike you, and I sure as shit don't respect you, but hate is a long way to go.

For the first time since I stepped foot in XWF I stand across from one of the best XWF has to offer. A legend apparently. A former Universal champion. The problem is the best XWF has to offer is barely more than the worst. I want you to surprise me Chris. I want you to live up to the hype but I'm not betting the farm on it.

If I could even begin to comprehend that sentence, they would offer me the Noble Prize. First I am the best, then I am the worst. I am a no legend, trust me. I kill legends, Travis. I kill legends and all those below them. I am the one that WILL be a legend when this is all said and done and the smoke clears. But I am nothing until I hang these chaotic boots up. And I have a lot more left in the tank, trust me. I won the Universal Title in four short months here, and I haven't even hit my peak yet. I am top 5 in Heyman's power rankings, and I am titleless currently. How do you think I pulled that off? By being the worst? You lost to a no show cum stain known as Kristen Silver, a twat who can't even wash my shorts. Yet you want to throw shade at me? So not only is your back story bullshit, but your trashtalk seems to be nothing more than what it is called. Trash and talk.

Pathetic.

I'd love to say Chris Chaos will be my foil. That he'll find the next gear that I already know I have but he won't. He won't because he doesn't give two shits about anything other than getting through this week with a win.

I don't huh? You are ignorant enough to think that you are the only one on the roster with something on your mind? I was SCREWED out of the Universal Title, was told by Heyman I am out of the picture for the time being, have the semi finals of the tag tournament coming up and this tournament to worry about. You may not know much about me, but I always have plans. I plan far, far ahead of a week to week basis. I plan on winning this entire thing. I plan on facing one of the XWF Greats to etch my name in stone and add another accomplishment to my belt. Getting through this week isn't wanted, it is expected. When you reach my level, Travis, you EXPECT to win every week. You don't hope. That is a level you will never know, never reach, never HOPE to achieve. You know you can't hack it. The entire "tripping balls" episode you spoke of.....that wasn't me doing drugs, that was me obsessing over being the Universal Champion again and getting to that gear you claim I don't have. The same gear that beat Doc back in October. The same gear that propelled me to that win inside the Elimination Chamber. The same gear that made short work of the "number one contender" James Raven last week.

You're like eating hamburger helper in a fancy restaurant. The setting is glorious but the substance is greasy garbage.

I don't know what kind of restaurants you are eating at, Travis, but this isn't Perkins. I sip the finest champagne's and never have a bill less than $500, plus tip. I eat at places they wouldn't let you into. Because I am a star. So, go ahead, take another mortgage out on that house to pay for your cheating ex and a child that may not be yours, and I will keep doing what I do.....

Being the best in the world.

What finishes the puzzle of Travis McCoy is an opponent that I truly fucking hate. Not because he's garbage but because he's as good as I am.

How about someone who is---and don't sue me here Thaddeus---better than you? Have you ever thought about that? Have you ever taken the time to think about what would happen if the opponent across from you in the ring was better than you ever even aspired to be? You talk tough, you have this brooding deep tone and this "I don't give a fuck" attitude, but you are a scared little boy on the inside. You are panicking. You are shitting your pants. You know what is riding on this match. You know that this could be the defining match of your career and you just can't handle the idea of losing and losing badly. Of going home to your maybe baby and the house you can barely afford with nothing but a small dick and a losing record.

Make you enjoy it? That just shows your failure. I don't know of anyone who I have ever faced in any company who enjoys losing as much as you do. Maybe it is in your blood. The only difference is your grandpa and your father were at least able to get a win or two here and there. When I see the product you bring to the table I don't see the capability to do that. Not here, not with this roster. Not with ME on this roster. I set the bar here, and as long as I am here you will sit firmly below it.

Maybe you've been looking for a guy like me. Maybe you've felt this same empty feeling I have. Maybe you're just as sick of this rotation of nothings and bullshit as I am. So I'll do my part to try and raise you to my standard, and when you fail I'll move on to the next and the next until someone fucking gets it. Until someone makes me hate them enough to love nearly murdering them.

You're right. I am sick of the bullshit nothings I get pitted against sometimes. But, Travis, you are on that list too. I am sick of the fact that I don't have enough respect here yet to be given someone worth my time in round one. Look at my backstage page, Travis. In between the signature wins are a bunch of you's. A bunch of tough talking nobodies who thought they could hang with me in the 20 by 20. And I have beat every single one of them. Half of them I have put out of commission. Half of them will never be the same again. You don't think I have it? Good. I love proving guys like you wrong. You see, I have earned respect here that I still fail to get. You come in demanding it with a resume not even good enough to get hired part time at Wal-Mart. Raise me to your standard? If that happens, Travis, I may as well hang it up after the match, because Travis McCoy standard is a standard I NEVER want to stoop to.

You're GAY!

No YOU'RE GAY

Your dad is GAY

I've got a huge dick!

MAGIC!!

Spare me.

Please, spare ME. Spare us. You must be good at SOMETHING, Travis, because you just made me spend an entire promo disecting your bullshit like a frog in biology class. You were able to spew nonsense at such an astronomical level that I had to address it. Perhaps that could be your calling. You can come up with nothing and make us waste our time on it. Maybe you should join BX3 instead of face them, they are masters at that. I am not ignoring you, I never was. I just needed to get myself prepared to sift through the bullshit, and as you can see, I have.

You'll underestimate me because you don't know where I've been. What I've been through. Who I've beat. You see my backstory and you think I'm just a loser from a family of losers. You see that I went to a draw with John fucking Holliday and you think that's all I am. Just another new guy who will be gone soon enough. You're dead fucking wrong boyo.

I'm the real deal and I'm here to stay.

Finally that is over. Well, Travis I could say the same about you. You don't know what I have been through either, what I have felt, and why I fight as hard as I fight. You need to do your research first. You need to go back in time and watch the tapes again. You need to see just how fucked up I can be, just how dark, just how deranged. You need to see what runs through my mind on a daily basis. You see, while you were in a coma (you know, the one you are now claiming didn't actually happen), I was busy winning, getting screwed, getting over a psychotic obsession of a love, and building a brand here that has sold more merchandise than any other in history. Have you ever been to a place where you KNOW you are the best on this roster, where you KNOW you can beat anyone, but you fail to beat one when you need to? That is how I feel about Jim Caedus. I KNOW I CAN beat Jim, but I haven't gotten the job done. That eats at me. Every opponent I face I see Jim, and my rage takes over. My failures come out and pool together and it makes me even more dangerous. Why do you think I was able to beat Raven the way I was? But you are no Jim Caedus. Jim would ass fuck you until his dick came out your mouth. Just ask him. He is the big dick daddy, he is Jim Caedus. You.....you're just Travis McCoy. And that is all you will ever be.

I am going to beat you back into a coma this week, Travis, and then I am going to pull the plug. Travis McCoy, as we know him, dies this week in Belgium.

Forget getting equalized....prepare to be......

Unplugged.

Chaos is coming........and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it"

35-13-2