Time Trial

Time Trial

Posted on July 13, 2023 at 8:13 pm by Darin Zion

Look at Mr. Humble Brag over here. Such a great guy, trying to educate me in the art of trash talking. Trying to give me a little friendly handicap I didn’t want.

I bet he thinks that makes up for all the failed coaching attempts he’s had at TEN-X and SIX TIME ACADEMY.

Bitch, please that was the biggest waste of 104 words ever!

Everyone in HOW knows you’re fucking bored.  We can see your apathy showing on full display.  You’ve run circles around everyone and their dogs in HOW.  You’ve done everything there is to do four times over.  It’s the same opponents week in and week out.  You’re tired of stepping on the throne to save HOW.

We’ve heard the same dime-store villain monologue repeated any time someone steps up to the plate with you. You want to hear people say “I’M NOT WORTHY”.

Your apathy is your greatest weakness, Mike.  You’re playing with fire too much.

Sure, there might be Q-Bert noises coming from my flapping mouth.  This match is like the hack, non-existent, worthless Bishop Mohn team taking on the 2022 Kansas City Chiefs. I’m not going to sugar coat it; I’ve got a snowball’s chance in hell.  But other greats like yourself acted aloof and paid the ultimate price.

Tom Brady coasted and got a blemish on his record from the least important Manning brother Eli in the Super Bowl.

Drew Brees got punk’d by the worst Kansas City Chiefs team in history back in 2012.

Man U’s Harry McGuire could come off the bench, come back and kick the perfect game winning goal and shock the world at any given time.

It’s a bold fuckin’ strategy, Michael.   Let’s see if it pays off. Firin’ off blanks could pay off.  If you’d only mastered that 19 years ago; you wouldn’t have issues with PRIME’S cry baby.

And seriously, what’s this obsession with time all of a sudden?  You sound like a 15 year old virgin.  You’re out here bragging about how fast you can finish.

Calm down there, Speedy Gonzalez…

Ain’t nobody here to see how fast you can climax. This isn’t a race to see who finishes their promos the fastest. Nobody’s impressed with how fast Mike can increase his body count, both in and outside the ring.  This ain’t no wild west shootout.  Seriously, we HOW wrestlers have lives.  We got media appearances, training sessions, the whole 9 yards.

Some of us don’t live in our mother’s basements, snacking on Cheetos; obsessing constantly over stalking everyone’s movement.

All this time shit’s for show; you’re craving some validation for your efforts.  We get it, child prodigy–you want that extra bumper sticker plastered on Daddy’s car.  Hope you get that extra pat of the back for all that begging you’re doing.

But seriously, you opened up stating I signed up for an extinction level event.  I don’t feel like that at all.  By the first or second promo; you’ll try to hit me in the feels; making it personal.  You nail that HEART PUNCH so good; it sends me into a worked-shoot.  You drive that wedge so hard in my chest it kills me.

You’re just asleep at the wheel and it’s sad.  Like you said; you should be making an example out of me; making my BFF Conor question his life decisions.  The REAL Mike Best would rip my beating heart out, stomp on it; and send shockwaves down the rest of the card.

Instead, you’re just standing there taunting me, mocking me thinkin’ you’re gonna be One Punch Man.  You think I’ll fall down like some ONE-HIT wonder.  You’re hoping I’ll lower that guard like the loveable, dumb oaf I am.  You’re hoping to damn well hoping to shut little brother up forever.

You try that shit in your house; and I’ll fucking hit you with the Love Potion No 69.  I’ll nail your own move on you again and embarrass you in front of the world and steal Conor’s moment from him two weeks early.

I’m not playing any games.  I’m not bringing any fuckin’ love or positivity inside that octagon.  There isn’t gonna be a friendly fist bump, a hug, or any feel good moral to this story.  It’s time I shed that damn image.  It’s why I fed myself to the wolves.

If I want that PPV match; I gotta crawl out of the rock; get out of the damn shelter in order to survive in HOW.