Prologue:
Jack obviously did not have a great holiday. He did in fact lose the SCW world championship, and after leaving one tweet, Jack was errily silent on social media, and made no effort to do anything about it since the loss. Jack had seemingly vanished off the face of the earth, and at this point, he didn’t care. He was alone, in his house and lamenting. Or possibly planning revenge? Nobody knew, because nobody heard from him. His only communication was the tweet, and it ended with “But I will get it back” and that was ominous, but he didn’t respond to anything afterward. There were calls, and texts to his phone, but he didn’t answer. He simply shut himself away and was fine with that during the holidays. Any normal person would call that a pretty miserable experience, but Jack? Jack felt he was with the only people he could trust, and understand. Himself.
Outside the ring, Jack had received confirmation of issues after a surprise guest, Detective Jessica De La Fuente from his past showed up, having known where Jack lived, and she also confirmed that other people knew where Jack lived now as well. And also that Marta, the woman that Jack let out of the car he destroyed for the Mexicans, was spotted, and now Ana Sofia knew she was alive. However, in the previous meeting, either Ana Sofia, didn’t know at this point, or she was going to let it stew for a while before making a move. Either way, Jack now knew that he was possibly in trouble. But again, he did nothing. Jessica had slipped a piece of paper to Jack before she left that night, and what was on it, no one but the two of them knew. Jessica had offered Jack a way out, but Jack was not going to violate the code of the street he lived by in order to save his own skin. Because that is what his father did to all of his friends and business partners, and Jack was not about to do the same.
Jack had received word of his match, and the only confirmation SCW ever received was a text, simply saying “Ok.” Was Jack in any condition to do anything? We’ll have to find out. --
Washington Estate
Las Vegas, NV.
It certainly didn’t look like he was in any shape to do anything.
Jack slept, laid back in his recliner, a nearly empty bottle of alcohol in one hand. He was shirtless, and only had one sock on with some sweatpants. He was obviously passed out drunk as his Chritmas decorations were still up inside the house, even the tree was still up and lit. He had only done this for the Christmas/Housewarming party, but he hadn’t bothered to take them down. He actually added to it, with beer cans, hung up by their tabs instead of normal ornaments. It was a pretty sad sight if you ever saw it.
His stocking eventually fell off the fireplace mantle, and a piece of string from whatever was inside slowly, and gently started to burn as it was close enough to the fireplace to catch. Jack was unaware of this, and it would have almost been fitting if this was how it all ended, in a house fire.
But, Brian was also living with Jack, and he had to knock on the door.
Brian: Stick?! HEY!
Jack at first didn’t respond, but when Brian actually began to bang on the door, Jack jumped up. He quickly reached to the right side of the recliner and pulled up his pistol. He charged the door, stumbling and banging into the wall, not even noticing the house fire started. He took aim at the door until Brian spoke again.
Brian: Stick! There’s fucking smoke in the house!
Jack looked around confused, first recognizing Brian’s voice, and then the fact that there was a small fire in his living room. He rushed over and tossed some water on the flames before they got out of hands, his stocking was on fire and whatever was in it melted and the stocking burnt. Jack stumbled over and sat down in his recliner again, forgetting that Brian was still at the door, until he banged on it again.
Brain: STICK! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?
Jack rubbed his eyes and again stumbled to his feet and slowly made it to the door, once again with his gun still in his hand. He slowly opened it and Brian walked in, only to get the gun jammed against the back of his head.
Jack: What are you doing here?
Brian: I live here. But that shit away. Probably still have the safety on.
Brian walked away from Jack as if he was used to this. Jack looked at the pistol and indeed the safety was still on. He groaned and slowly walked back to his chair and sat down, rubbing his head and temples as Brian stared at him from behind the kitchen counter.
Jack: Stop looking at me like that.
Brian: What the fuck are you doing, Stick?
Jack: Nothing. It’s my vacation, leave me alone.
Brian: You’ve been sitting up in this place the entire holiday.
Jack: So?
Brian: Christ, Stick, you look like shit, you’ve been drinking yourself stupid, and you don’t even bother to fucking shower anymore. I can smell you from here. You and the booze.
Jack didn’t even notice how bad he probably smelled. Brian was right that Jack must have spent days, drinking himself into a stupor and not bothering to take care of himself.
Jack: I don’t need to impress anybody. I’m not going anywhere.
Brian: You need to get your shit together.
Jack: Why don’t you just leave. I was perfectly... hap.. Happy before you showed up here. Ruined my nap.
Brian: Stick, that wasn’t a fucking nap. You were passed out. If I hadn’t knocked on the door, you’d of died from that damn fire.
Jack just hand waved Brian off, obviously not takiing this seriously as he continued to sit there and hold his hand across his face covering his eyes. He didn’t want to hear anything about anything at this point and just shook his head. Brian walked back outside and began bringing in grocery bags, obviously from a trip to the store. Jack looked confused, still not full processing everything.
Jack: What is all this?
Brian: It’s called food, Stick.
Jack: We have plenty of food.
Brian: Not when some drunk continues to binge eat and drink himself stupid.
Jack: …
Brian: Just... just sit down, if you aren’t going to help yourself, might as well quit.
Jack growled. He didn’t ever want to be known as a quitter, and this was something that lit a fire under him.
Jack: I ain’t quitting shit.
Brian: Well then stop feeling sorry for yourself. Jesus Christ, you lose one match and you turn into this? Get it together, Stick. You are better than this.
Jack stared a hole through Brian. Having had the sobering truth laid on him. Jack was looking like he was giving up, with his lack of care about anything. It was painful to listen to, but Jack knew it was the truth.
Jack: That championship meant everything to me. Did you not see how they stole it from me? That bullshit they resorted to?! It was a travesty and it was the only way they could do it. It’s me against the whole god damn system and they got what they wanted. What the fuck do you want me to do?
Brian: Go get your belt back then. Stop sitting here wallowing in self-pity. I watched you go through 4 stages of grief in a matter of weeks. You want the title back, go get the title back. It’s as simple as that. You did it once, now do it again. If it means that much to you, you’ll fight for it. If it doesn’t, then fucking sit here and kill yourself with alcohol. But the choice is really yours, Stick. What are you going to do?
Jack once again stared without responding for a long period. Brian was right. Jack was angry at the match. Jack was in denial about the outcome initially. Jack tried to bargain with himself about the outcome of the match. He had tried to reason that this was all a dream, and he was still the champion, and now, here he was in a depression state. He had no cares about the match and what actually happened, he simply was accepting defeat. And that wasn’t Jack. He knew that. And he knew he had to do something out it.
Jack: Yeah? You wanna know what I’m going to do? You wanna know?
Jack puts his hands up, balled into fists as if he was going to fight Brian.
Jack: I’ll kick your ass to start.
Brian: Yeah? Then what? You gonna go beat up Benny? You gonna go back to Philly and beat everyone up there? You have a job to do Stick, you already agreed to wrestle a match.
Jack looked confused, dropping his hands and scratching his head.
Jack: I did?
Brian: Yeah, they kinda booked you in a match and you said okay.
Jack: When the hell did I do that?
Brian: Jesus, Stick, you really need to get it together.
Jack looked at his phone, and sure enough he had accepted a booking.
Jack: Well, fuck.
Brian: What you gonna do, Stick?
Jack thought for a moment as he sat back in his recliner, leaning forward and staring at his phone. He knew he couldn’t go through it like this. He needed to do what Brian had said and get his shit together. He put his phone down without saying a word and headed into the bathroom. He removed his clothes and started the shower, but the speed of his movements, forced him to rush to the toilet and vomit. He did so, and wiped his mouth before he stepped into the shower and for the first time in a long time, showered.
Once he was done, he stepped out of the shower flushed the vomit away, before he went into his bedroom and put on fresh clothes and returned to the bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror.
Jack: Fuck.
He saw the bags under his eyes, and beard he had grown since he stopped grooming himself. He went to work shaving and actually getting himself to be presentable. He finally returned to the living room, sitting down in his recliner and lurching forward, shaking his head.
Jack: I’ve got to get it back, Brian.
Brian: Sure you do, Stick.
Jack: I swear to god that all of them will pay for what they did to me. This is fucking personal now. Revenge is all I fucking care about. And I swear that when I get back in the ring, no matter who it is, I will be bringing hell with me.
Brian nodded.
Brian: Good. Might wanna starting thinking about your opponent. Got announced yesterday it’s somebody named.... Brother David Shepard?
Jack: I don’t need a name. I just need to get my ass back in the ring, and start the road to full recovery. And I will not stop until I am champion again.
Jack stood up, and headed down to his weight room, to begin training, a renewed focus in his eyes.
--
On Camera:
ClickWe are once again with Jack in his home. Though obviously, without the Christmas lights and everything done up, it looks plain and bland. While it is a nice home, it’s big, and it’s empty. Jack sits in his recliner, shirtless and wearing sweatpants. His face shows the slow forming of circles under his eyes from a lack of sleep. His face full on 5 o’ clock shadow. He just stares for a few moments. He doesn’t even blink. He finally turns to the camera.
Jack: You all got what you wanted. Are you happy now? Did you all have a great Christmas or whatever knowing that I am no longer the SCW heavyweight champion? Did all of you get your Christmas wish? Well, I hope that you did. I really do. Because now, now everything changes. Now, everybody has to suffer and you all have no one to blame but yourselves.
There is no doubt in my mind that this was a whole grand scheme by those in control, trying to what? Teach me a lesson? Trying to show me that it’s harder to hold onto the championship than it is to win it? Yeah, I knew that already. But I get it, you guys thought that I was getting a little too big for you and you have to cool my jets, just so the playing field was even once again. Make no mistake, you had Kris Ryan’s sit on a championship match for MONTHS and spring it on me last minute AND have O’Malley’s dumb ass get involved as well. The whole thing stinks like shit, but at the end of the day, you got what you wanted. Doesn’t matter how messy it was, just that the job got done. And in a way, I can almost respect that. You couldn’t handle me, so you had to throw a hail mary to make sure things went your way.
But that’s fine. No, really, it is. Because this is all on your hands now. You see, when I was brought into this world, I could not rob, I could not lie, I could not steal, I couldn’t even cheat. But boy, I had some help learning, you all have taught me so well. So everything that happens, from here on out, is all your fault. It didn’t have to be this way, but god damn, you made it this way, so now, everybody has to suffer for it. It could have been so easy, but no, you have to throw out a ringer, and then you have to have O’Malley for the insurance policy to take it all away from me. So, now, everybody has to pay the price for this transgression. Jack leans forward, pushing the footrest of the recliner down in one motion.
Jack: Didn’t you ever see the movie “Scarface”? You know that part when Tony goes down to meet Sosa, and Sosa ends up liking him, but he gives him the warning? You know which part I’m talking about right? Well, the the words were pretty short and to the point. Sosa just said it once. “Don’t fuck me. Don’t you ever try to fuck me.” And that’s exactly what happened, isnt it? Tony went too far and Sosa struck back at him. That’s what happened here. Same thing, I was doing fine, giving you the best part of the show for weeks, and then, bam, I get railroaded and I’m just supposed to get over it and let it go? Oh no. Oh FUCK no. This was a slap in the face to the face of your entire franchise and now, now... everything that happens from here on out to O’Malley, and to Kris Ryans, and to every other mother fucker who gets in my way? It’s YOUR fault.
Kris Ryans took the one thing that mattered the most to me, and I will be damned if I’m going to go out like that. And I don’t need would-be legends or any other shithead giving me words of encouragement. I was screwed out of the championship because O’Malley couldn’t wait his turn and I get this shit. I know what happened, and I know that I now, the journey begins to get back what is mine. O’Malley and Kris Ryans are marked men, you can count on this shit. Take it to the bank, by the time I am through with both of them, they will never, EVER come at me, or try to take something of mine, ever again. That’s a god damn promise. I don’t take kindly to being trifled with this this. I was on top, taking this company to new heights and what happens, now Kris Ryans continues to walk around with that smug look on his fucking face and it makes my blood boil. I just want so badly to beat the ever-loving shit out of him and be done with it, but we both know that this mother fucker O’Malley will continue to stick his nose in world championship business when he knows damn well, he doesn’t deserve to even sniff at the world title, let alone compete for it. This is the path we’re on now. Both of you are on a very painful path coming in the future. You will both suffer for what you have done. And not just you, it’s going to be everybody. Every single person who crosses my path, and maybe even some who don’t directly get in my way, will be taken out, in short order. I did it once, and I will do it again.
Which brings me to Brother David Shepard. Jack cracks his neck, and then his knuckles before continuing.
Jack: You know what the last fucking thing I need in my life right now is? Religion. I don’t care if you believe in anything, or what that even is, the last thing I want, the last thing anybody wants, is some asshole coming here and trying to spread the word, or teach me about the good book. I went to Church when I was little, I don’t have a problem with that. I just found out that if you sit around, waiting for a miracle, that shit doesn’t happen. You have to go out and take it. And that’s all I’ve done my whole life. I didn’t need a book to tell me that.
Now, let me just get off that aspect, since I know, it’s a sensitive subject and I’m aware there’s sponsors and big wigs watching this, so that’s all I’ll say about that. I just don’t need that shit in my life. Maybe some of you do, and that’s you, but it’s not me.
But I’ll just never understand the power, I guess. It sounds more like a cult than anything else, and those things are fucking freaky. But apparently, the shit seems to work for David. Fortune seems to favor him since he lucked his way into a SCW Roulette championship match, and then fluked his way to a victory. And when stuff like that happens, what do people like David do? They get down on their hands and knees and thank the good lord and praise his name and Hallelujah! they did something. Does it work the other way? Do you blame the good lord when bad things happen? Oh, no? That’s right, you’re supposed to thank him for testing you and making you stronger, because he’s got a plan or whatever.
I wonder what his plan is for you David? What is his plan for you? Does he want you to tell people who will gladly step on your face as they would look at you, that the world is all sunshine and rainbows if you just believe? Is that it, David? I just want to know what makes you a believer. Because I want to test your conviction David. I want to know just how much faith you have. Because Sunday, I’m going to beat you like a dog and I want to see you look up at the lights and call for help from the good lord. I want you to scream out his name, and let him fucking smite me for what I do to one of his children. Jack stares ahead, not looking at the camera, but continuing to speak.
Jack: That’s where I’m at this week David. It is not an idle threat or some kind of cool line for a wrestler to say. I am coming to the ring on Sunday, with the intention to hurt you very, very badly. I want you to be laying in that ring, wishing you were dead. Fucking DEAD. Do you understand me? This is the level that I have to be at now. I don’t care about you, I don’t care about your family or the rest of the people in your little circle. I will hurt each and every one of them if need be to get my point across. Sunday, I am going to not just beat you in the ring, I want to try and take every last ounce of willpower you have. If it wasn’t murder, I’d try and reach into your chest and pull your out heart. I am deathly serious David. I will not hesitate to beat you and make sure you never wrestle again.
Because you saw, you had to have seen it David. You saw them screw me out of the championship. You must understand that when you take things from people, it’s wrong. It’s wrong and there’s no call for things like that. It’s in that bible, isn’t it? It’s it a commandment? You saw what they did. They stole from me. And now, I will begin the systematic destruction of every single person who steps in my way. I have to get back what’s mine, David. You have to understand that. You have to know that I should still be the champion. Look, I don’t even care that you have a championship belt, whatever, I just want MINE. It’s that simple. But since everyone else has to make it complicated, YOU, David, are going to be the first victim. You’re going to be a sacrifice. I’m going to leave you in broken heap, not because I want to, but because I HAVE to.
This is the way things are going to be David. You would normally simply be out of your league, but now, since I don’t have the championship anymore, it has awakened something in me that just isn’t safe to be around. If you were paying attention to my rise and how I became the SCW World champion and how ruthless and willing I was to bend and out and out break the rules, you know that perhaps I relaxed, just a little, when I won the championship. Now, it’s all gone, taken away unjustly. So now, that old Jack, the one that didn’t give two fucks about hurting other people in order to get where I wanted to go?
Yeah, that Jack. He’s back now. And he’s pissed. Jack actually smiles, but there’s so much malice behind the smile it’s hard to call it that.
Jack: So, don’t blame me for not warning you. I just did, David. I’m telling you here and now that this is the wrong time in your life to try and be at the top. You are in my way, and you had best start praying for divine intervention on Sunday. You better be down on your hands and knees, talking to him, praying that on Sunday, I don’t end your career. Because that’s where I am right now, David. If you survive, then maybe there’s something to that book. If you manage to walk out of the building that night, it will be a reason to praise the lord. Because I will not show the same mercy that he is known to show. Oh no, on Sunday, I will make you question everything about that book, and about your faith, David. I don’t have any remorse left. Anything that I felt that even resembled compassion was taken from me when they stole my championship. And you, like many others in your book, you will just be the first sacrifice. It’s that simple.
So all of you now have fair warning. You have more than fair warning. What you did to me, will not go unpunished. Oh no. Sunday, there will be a whole new set of problems. You fuck with me, I fuck with you. Now, David, you may not have fucked with me, but you’re fucking with my progress, that much is for damn sure. But you will be an example, the first of many, until I get my championship back.
Mark my words, SCW. Nobody, and I mean, Nobody, is safe. Jack leans back again, waving the camera away as the scene cuts to black.
ClickEveryone. Suffers.
