Bloodshot Travis Learns to Love Himself

It was an average day in the life of Bloodshot Travis. As per usual, he was in hot pursuit of Robert Allen, his nosy neighbour, who had just been caught photographing the piles of corpses Travis had recently disposed of.
"I'll get you for this, Travis! When the papers see these pictures, you're finished!"
"Heh...not likely," Travis spoke, pulling out his trusty screwdriver. "It's past your bedtime, Robert..."
The tool flew swiftly into Robert's chest, piercing it and killing him instantly. Travis knelt down beside the man's body and ripped it open like a giant kinder surprise egg. He was just about to feast on Robert's delicious-looking organs when a masked stranger appeared beside him.
"Who are you?" said Travis. The stranger looked oddly familiar.
"I'm Evil Travis, the guy who bloodshot you."
"Well that's just stupid and makes no sense at all. Also, I'm already pretty evil. See?"
Travis gestured to Robert's body, which was rapidly reassembling itself. "Curse you, Travis!" Robert spoke, waiting for his spleen to shuffle back behind his ribs.
"I don't care." Evil Travis replied. "Come with me, I have something to show you."
Travis rolled his eyes. Reluctantly, he grasped Evil Travis' outstretched palm. As soon as he made contact, a flash of light engulfed their bodies, and within a second, the pair had vanished.
They reappeared on a dim suburban street. It was the middle of the night, but hordes of people were ambling past them.
"Where are we? Everything feels...different." Bloodshot Travis spoke, his congenital heart pounding.
"We're in a new world, Travis. The real world. Of course things feel different."
BT internet opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the approach of a juvenile.
"Wow, great cosplay, mister!"
Travis considered disemboweling the skinny little snot-nosed pube right where he stood, but was confused by his attire. The boy had on a stripey, bloodstained shirt not dissimilar to his, and was holding a plastic screwdriver. Discount Halloween store blood was smeared haphazardly across his face. 
"Are you on the way to Travcon too?" The boy spoke. Travis opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the kid's mother, who was trailing behind them. She too was dressed up in his likeness.
"Smelvin! What have I told you about talking to strangers!"
The mother proceeded to bend her son over and spank him right then and there on the street. Feeling more than a little awkward, Travis walked past them, trying to not to make eye contact.
"We have lots to see," Evil Travis remarked as they joined the dozens walking towards a large warehouse building in the distance. Minutes later, they had reached the entrance to what the flashing neon sign told them was Travcon. Thousands of costumed civilians were gathered in a humongous line that stretched around itself at least 50 times, laughing and chatting to each other.
Travis moaned impatiently. "We're not gonna have to wait, are we? I feel a killing spree coming on..."
"Don't be ridiculous. We have the Travpass Deluxe."
Evil Travis flashed a laminated card with Travis' smiling face plastered upon it. A few passers-by sighed in jealousy as it was presented it to the building's security. "Go on in, fellas," the muscled guards spoke, parting to reveal a secret back entrance.
Inside, the building was packed with booths upon booths of activities and panels. Travis was slack-jawed as he floated aimlessly between them. In one corner, a stubbled, pot-bellied Romanian was selling Travis merch: mugs, shirts, stickers, etc., all themed around either Travis himself or one of his iconic catchphrases. People were practically throwing money at the man as he dished out the memorabilia. A hat with the words "It's Travis time!" written across it was a particularly popular item, though Travis didn't remember ever actually saying that.
Elsewhere, an entire upstairs section of the building had been dedicated to "Classroom Killer", a self-proclaimed "VR experience" in which you "relived Travis' upbringing" by "enacting revenge upon his childhood tormenters", in the same way Travis had all those years ago. Sure enough, as Travis climbed a few steps, he saw a handful of headset-clad players stood upon a platform, slashing and ripping their way through invisible enemies with faces of childlike glee.
Naturally, the entire experience was completely surreal to Travis, who had only known fear and anger towards his existence from the people of his world. Even as he walked, random lunatics were jumping in front of him to take ridiculous selfies, complementing him on how "true to the character" he looked. They even had his theme song playing on the speakers wherever he went.
Suddenly, the lights dimmed, and the music stopped. Everyone's attention was diverted as a giant screen slowly lowered down from the ceiling. Some unseen announcer's voice began booming through the room.
"And now...coming next year...here's what you've all been waiting for..."
The words BLOODSHOT TRAVIS: THE MOVIE appeared, and the crowd let out a collective cheer that could've shattered eardrums.
"Directed by Uwe Boll and starring Christian Bale as Bloodshot Travis" were the only words Travis could take before bursting into tears. Overwhelmed, he pushed between people until he reached the exit, collapsing to his knees in the car park outside, where Evil Travis was waiting for him.
"These people...they love me so much...why?" he spoke, through sobs.
"They love you because you're you, Travis. Never stop being you. Never forget where you came from."
"Is that what you wanted to show me? That I should love myself?"
"No...this is..."
Evil Travis dropped her mask, revealing her true self.
"Becky? Is that really you?"
Becky nodded. "Happy birthday, Travis."
Travis grabbed his sister in a loving embrace, but she recoiled in shock.
"No, Travis, don't touch me!"
But it was too late. The light once more engulfed the two and Travis woke up in his bed.
He yawned, rubbed his eyes, and threw the covers away as he felt the fresh morning sunlight dance across his face. Had it really all been a dream? Still, his heart ached, both because of the loss of his sister and its congenitality.
"Travian Lloyd Jones! Your breakfast is getting cold!" His mother called.
"There's my sweet little babykins!" She spoke as he came downstairs. "Did you enjoy your sleepover with Mr. Allen's son? I heard you playing on your Xbox all night, y'know, coming up with those silly little names for yourself. What was that one you decided on? Colton?"
"I tried to, Ma, I really did try to pick that one," Travis said, looking directly into the camera, "but Colton was taken."
The ensuing laugh track was so loud that every character's ears exploded and they all died. The end.
Category:Trollpasta
Category:Satire
Category:Memes
Category:Unnecessary Sequels
Category:DIALOGUE!
Category:Dreams
Category:Well, that was pointless.
Category:That just raises more questions!
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