"The Better Hunter Quinn" Tracy James

Backstage at that same exact Crossfire in which Tracy James' brain got rattled with a briefcase by Hunter Quinn, the “Rough” boy as he calls himself is nursing his head in the public restroom. Probably was kicked out from backstage since they didn’t know who he was. Leaned over the sink and groaning with his fists clenched, his gear still on. Didn’t pack anything else, he just wrestles, nothing else. Really nothing else at all.

Rough Tracy James:
I feel like I'm about to throw up…

What an actual dickhead…

James reveals he was holding a picture of Mr. Money In The Bank within his hand. He just stares at it, clearly he’s bothered but there’s also a big glint of disappointment in his pupils.

Rough Tracy James:
Look at him with his stupid hair.

His stupid handsome face.

His stupid positive record.

His stupid edgy cool attire and entrance.

People actually like all that? People respect that? My papa told me, before that maniac stole his arm privileges away that “Tracy you could powerslam a bull and outgrapple Dave Turner!” and I can. I am usually bit insecure about things but I believe in that. I believe that I’m a pretty good wrestler, but people don’t even respect that im a good wrestler in a place for wrestling. Whatdaheck is that about?

His opposite hand moves up to the mirror and he covers half of his head with his palm then the other half, imagining how he’d look with the nearly completely shaved head cut that Quinn owns. That hand falls right down to his side after.

Having just walked into the public restroom to take a leak, a heavier man wearing Chris Proudfoot merch and a white headband just stares at Tracy. But no, he isn’t excited trying to get an autograph. Not trying to get a selfie. Just absolutely weirded out that he’s wearing his revealing gear and holding a photograph speaking to himself.

Rough Tracy James:
I’m not the best at talking, I think nobody really takes me serious because of that. I don’t really anger quickly, I'm pissed off now but I don’t have much to be angry about. Punch me and well you’re punching Tracy James, I can’t even be that mad about that. But that Quinn guy, he came out and attacked me and made me seem like I was doing somethin wrong. I was trying to just set things straight, talk to the audience heart to heart. Fella genuinely doesn’t even know how to tell time, twenty four matches is like, for me, four months away. How was I cuttin in line if I couldn’t even join the line for a while? What an absolute dumbass.

No screw him, really, did he get suplexed on his head too much?

How does that make sense?

It doesn’t make sense.

He’s an idiot.

Yeah, he’s dumb.

Dumb.

Tracy James isn’t dumb.

Hunter Quinn IS dumb.

Tracy James doesn’t have much of an identity and much of a reason to punch people, does he?

Hunter Quinn has an identity, he hit me for some god awful reason but it was a reason. I lack that.

Tracy James is a better grappler.

Hunter Quinn is better at lookin cool…

So if Tracy James was, in theory, as cool as Hunter Quinn…

Then Tracy James would be better than Hunter Quinn.

His brain suddenly birthed an idea! Horrible idea, like honestly an awful one, but an idea! Releasing the photograph and letting it fly and make its place in whatever dirty filthy place it flies to in the restroom, his long finger points at the chubby man who was staring at him!

“The Better Hunter Quinn” Tracy James:
Yeah, y’know, that makes a lot of sense...

I’ll just be the better version of him, it’ll show him who the hell he’s embarrassing! I’ll do that blowing thing he does better! The lungblower, yeah! I’ll be cooler! That baby boy couldn’t even grow facial hair, I have facial hair! Walter Bolek can tear his arm right out his socket! He doesn't care about me at all but he cares about Quinn!

He marches right out the room and right through the wide-boned buddy.