Honestly, I Could Have Done 350 Word Promos

Honestly, I Could Have Done 350 Word Promos

Posted on July 14, 2023 at 9:53 pm by Mike Best

Giving you a handicap?

Motherfucker, I don’t need to give you a handicap. God did that for me. Your mother deciding to go across the hall instead of across the street for a nightcap did that for me. Fucking Mother Nature handicapped you in a way I couldn’t do with a thousand WikiHow articles, you gelatinous overgrowth on the taint of professional wrestling, so stop counting my words like toothpicks and get back in your crate before I spray you with the fucking water bottle again. 

You’re fucking trash, man. 

I’m not even sure what was meant to be an insult or a compliment in that mindless mass of drivel you ejaculated all over me like a homeless dementia patient jerking off on public transit. It’s half love letter, half school shooter manifesto, and you’ve basically just repeated the same shit in every single promo. REWRITE THE PROMO BUT MAKE IT WORSE. NOW DO IT AGAIN THREE MORE TIMES BUT MAKE AWKWARD FORCED SPORTS REFERENCES. 

You are a failure on every conceivable level. 

You can’t even break the fourth wall properly, you shitty troglodyte. How are you bad at literally everything? You can tell me that you’re unimpressed all you want, too. It isn’t my fault you’re too stupid to realize when you’ve been disemboweled– that’s the terrible disease spreading across the bottom of the card these days. People yawning at the asteroids that are going to wipe them off the face of the earth. You want more. You expected more from me. Who the fuck are you, Darin Zion? If you want me to treat you differently than I’ve treated Hollywood, or Stevens, or Scottywood, then fucking act differently than they did. You aren’t special. There is not a single thing about you that is unique. The unending narcissism of Scott Stevens, but he does it better. The unconvincing “baww, poor me, I’m probably gonna lose” schtick that Hollywood does between real life hitman murders, but at least it sounds human coming from him. Scottywood’s trying to change the stakes and the goalposts, so the inevitable loss doesn’t hurt as much… but he does it better.

Why the fuck do you deserve better than they get? 

You think I’m phoning this shit in? 

Yeah, stupid. 

Of course I am. You said it yourself. I’m apathetic. I’ve run circles around everyone and their dog in HOW. I’ve done everything there is to do, four times over. I’m directly quoting you, because it’s the only thing I have ever heard you say that wasn’t mired in your own absolute dogshit, unearned overconfidence. I am the final fucking boss of HOW. You are facing me in the thing I do best in the place where I am already the best at everything. I literally do not even have to be writing this promo. Do you understand what “this post will not be necessary” actually means? It’s not just a shortcut. It’s not just a flex. It’s literally me handicapping a match and still dominantly winning, every single time. And then you say “it’s a bold strategy, let’s see if it pays off.” 


I am toying with you. This is a game for me. I am going to knock you  out, take your lunch money, and use it to buy a Diet Coke at the vending machine when I’m finished. The only reason I sell for any of you fucking douchebags is to save face if I lose, so if I’m not even concerned with making you sound like a threat, do you understand what that means? It means that the odds of you beating me at so much as a game of fucking Go Fish is so infinitesimally low that I am completely and totally unconcerned with even covering my own ass. There’s no Cinderella story here. No prince coming to save you. I’m gonna smash your little glass slippers and then drag your destroyed face through broken shards until midnight when you turn back into a fucking nobody. 

You have accomplished nothing.

Said nothing humorous. Nothing clever. Nothing of substance. You will walk into this match an awkward loser that no one likes, and you will walk out of this match an awkward loser that no one likes with a dented fucking skull. Then you can have your shitty little pay-per-view match with the only dude on the planet whose self-esteem is low enough to call you his friend. 

But hey. 

You tried.