Prologue:
It had been some time since Jack appeared on SCW television, after his loss to Mark Cross, Jack seemingly disappeared. There was no angry tweet, or even reaction from Jack regarding this loss, and it was like he vanished and left wrestling altogether. Even with all the rampant speculation, In the three months since he left, there wasn’t a word from Jack about his status or what really was going on with him or why he wasn’t going to be around. It was sudden and abrupt almost like a light switch.
But just as sudden and abrupt was Jack’s return at Climax Control 307, hopping the guardrail and announcing his intentions. There was not fan fair or warning, just a simple, firm warning to all the SCW talent that Jack was back, and he was serious about winning back the SCW world championship. Simple but effective, that was Jack’s style. And obviously the message worked since Jack was then promptly booked in a main event match on the next Climax Control against Austin James Mercer, a wrestler Jack knew well, and was confident his return would be a successful one.
But what DID happen while Jack was away? Inquiring minds surely would like to know why the SCW star disappeared for 3 months. Could it have been something outside the ring that drew Jack’s attention. Of course, ourside the ring, Jack’s run at the casino was marred with issues, mostly involving the Mexicans, he has formed an unlikely partnership with Sonny in order to sort the mess out and keep his casino clean, and allow Sonny a little revenge for the Mexicans putting Sonny’s son in the hospital, beating him near to death and Sonny’ son miraculously surviving.
Also with Jack’s brother Jason now on the scene and recovering from drug abuse, it had become more apparent to Jack that the deal with the Mexican’s be broken off to save any more potential headaches. It was becoming a twisted web and Jack’s life was extremely complicated given his current situation. But the public wasn’t privy to that as Jack was a pretty private person. Could something have happened between all these combustible elements that made Jack take time away?
While it was unlikely that Jack would ever talk about these things publicly, there is an era of curiosity surrounding Jack these days, with so many unanswered questions. Why did Jack leave? What enabled him to come back? Why now? With so many questions unlikely to be answered, the most we do now is wonder what the future holds, and what the past may look like.
And the real question becomes, will Jack be able to replicate any of his past success when he returns on Sunday, or will there be kinks in his amour or ring rust after all this time away from thing?
Questions just continue popping up around Jack, but he’s clearly not showing his hand... yet. --
Washington Estate
Las Vegas, NV,
3 Months ago Jack returned home after the loss. He made no comment on the match, and the loss of his championship, he just went home. There didn’t appear to be anything wrong, he simply went home, without a word. He would enjoy this week away from the ring, and soon most likely would be possibly asking for his rematch or earning another shot, whatever the case would be. Jack didn’t make any fuss about that, he just wanted to be home.
He sat down in his recliner, and lit a cigar. He calmly puffed on it, almost with a look of relief on his face. Brian thought about asking about this pretty strange behavior, but he didn’t. He simply let Jack puff away on his cigar while he sat, reading the newspaper, probably for the 5-6th time that day, but that’s what Brian liked to do, plus there was no doubt he was looking for some kind of opportunity somewhere. Jack in the meantime, simply checked his watch, before pulling out his phone and dialing.
Jack: Hey....It’s Jack... listen, my brother... send him home, huh? Give the kid an early night.... Good, good-bye.
Jack hung up and dialed another number and waited.
Jack: We’re on...
That was all it took, and Jack hung up. He went right back to puffing on his cigar and almost smiling to himself. Finally, Brian spoke up as he went to the kitchen and poured himself a drink.
Brian: Making that move, huh?
Jack: Yup.
Brian: You know they might figure it out.
Jack: I don’t have many options at this point, Brian. I have to get away from this as quickly as possible, and this is the best possible solution.
Brian: Didn’t Jess give you something?
Jack shook his head as he flicked the ashes into the ashtray. He didn’t want to think about that option, it went against everything he knew.
Jack: I’m not a snitch. We handle problems man to man; we don’t involve the law. That’s always what my dad taught us. Because when people involved the law, he went to prison, and I ain’t having that. I got family here, Brian. You and Jason, and I’m gonna look out for both of you. And if the law gets involved, you know they tell everybody after the fact, and the last thing I need is for either of you to get caught up in it. It’s my mess, I’m cleaning it up.
Brian: Looks like the champ is all grown up. Oh wait... you aren’t champ anymore, are you?
Jack: No, but it doesn’t matter, all that matters is what goes down tonight, and getting a new beginning started around here.
Brian: You play some dangerous games, Stick.
Jack: I have to sometimes. It’s just part of the game sometimes.
Brian: Amen to that, I guess. Hope you know what you’re doing.
Jack: You bet your ass I do.
Brian simply nodded in response. Jack once again turned to him.
Jack: Pour me one of those.
Brian: You got it.
A short time later, Jason entered the house after being dropped off by the casino staff. He opened the door, nodding at Jack and Brian, who each raised their drink to acknowledge him. Jason however, looked a bit confused as he simply pulled a water out of the fridge and sat on the kitchen stool.
Jason: They sent me home.
Jack: You did a good job, Jay.
Jason: I mean, I guess, I’ve just never gotten the night off before.
Jack: I like to reward people who do a good job. I told them to give you the rest of the night off, I’ll cover the hours you would normally work.
Jason: You... you’d do that?
Jack: You’re my brother. I’d do anything for you.
Jason: Shit, bro... that’s... that’s great.
Brian: Stick’s not so bad sometimes.
Jack: Yeah, don’t talk to loud, I don’t want other people to hear it.
Jason walked over and hugged his brother. The gesture meant a lot to Jason, and Jack hugged his brother back.
Jason: Hey did... did you wrestle tonight?
Jack: Yeah.
Jason: Where’s the uh... the championship belt.
Jack: I lost it.
Jason: Oh... shit dude I’m sorry.
Jack: More important things in life, you know?
Jason: But you loved that thing.
Jack: I did. And I still do. Just... there’s just some other stuff that the champion doesn’t need to a part of. I don’t want the eyes on me that don’t need to be on me. That’s all.
Jason: Alright, bro... you know how that works.
Jack: I do, don’t worry about it. I can go and win it back any time I want.
Jason: Damn, it’s like that?
Jack: It’s like that.
Jack and Jason share a laugh and Jack enjoyed his drink and another cigar.
Much later in the night, Jack stood alone on his upstairs balcony. He had yet another drink, and another cigar, sitting in a lawn chair, rocking back and forth and enjoying the night sky. He checked his watch, and he smirked, as if on cue, his phone rang.
Jack: Talk.... Oh, let me look...
Jack stood up, looking at the city in the distance, and hearing the loud bang and an explosion in the distance.
Jack: Yeah... fireworks look really good this time of year, you know? Can really enjoy them. No, thank you....
With that, Jack hung up, and a few seconds later, his phone rang again. He knew exactly what it was, and he let it ring a few times, before picking up.
Jack: Talk.... what? What do you mean it’s gone? What’s gone? God damn it... I’ll be right down there.
Jack hung up the phone, nodding and smiling to himself. He knew exactly what happened, now it was time to put the acting chops to the test as he got himself somewhat dressed and took the car, headed to the casino.
--
Grand Flamingo Casino
Las Vegas, NV
3 Months ago. Jack drove down at a quick pace, but not too quick. He listened to the news rasio station on the way down, reporting on the Mexican’s vehicle being hit, and now the cops, and the feds would be after it shortly. They would obviously try and track the truck and where it came from. This was the only real loose end in the whole thing. If Sonny’s men left survivors, they would be questioned. And that could in theory lead the authorities to Jack, but Sonny’s men were supposed to be good.
Jack drove by the accident scene. It was far enough away from the casino that it didn’t look too suspicious. He nodded to himself as the truck was a charred wreck and the police and ambulances clearly had a lot of work to do. Jack continued on, driving to the casino parking garage, where the Mexican’s men were freaking out. Jack took a breath, and got out, looking furious.
Jack: WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED!
There was a gaggle of men all trying to explain the same thing, but Jack didn’t want to hear it.
Jack: STOP, STOP STOP! SHUT UP! I WANT ONE GUY TO TELL ME! YOU! JORGE!
Jorge: The truck was hit, Mr. Jack.
Jack: You gotta be kidding me.
Jorge: Mr. Jack, they killed my men and they took the product.
Jack: Oh, that’s just FUCKING PERFECT, Jorge. Just grand. Now, I’m out fucking money. Who did this?
Jorge: We don’t know, Mr. Jack. Just a car, it drive by and they blow up the truck.
Jack: This is bullshit, Jorge. You better not be trying to hang this on me. I told you all to be fucking careful. The past month has been clean with no accidents. Sounds to me, like you have a rat. You’d betting find this fucking rat, Jorge.
Jorge: Si, Mr. Jack.
Jack: I’m not about to lose this deal because you got guys you who can’t be trusted, Jorge. That’s bullshit. Fix your shit, you got me?
Jorge: Si, Mr. Jack
Jack turned back to the car, leaning up against it, before taking of the traffic cones and flinging it across the parking garage.
Jack: GOD DAMN IT!
Jack turned back to Jorge, shaking his head furiously.
Jack: Fix your shit. I’ll call Ms. Ana Lucia.
Jorge: Si, Mr. Jack.
Jack angrily got back in his car, almost during a burnout he floored it so heavily before pulling out of the parking garage, and into the main lobby parking lot. He quickly dialed the number.
Jack: Ms. Ana-Lucia, I apologize for waking you at this hour of the night, but we have a big problem, and we need to talk. Business, it went bad tonight, and there could be a problem with one of your employees. I have your man on the ground checking into it. Yes Ma’am... we’ll speak soon on it. I’m just as upset as you are, that was a lot of money left on the table. Yes Ma’am...
With that, Jack hung up, and another smile crossed his face. His plan was working.
--
ON CAMERA:
Click. Jack is in a familiar spot. He sits on his couch, looking over at where the SCW world championship would normally be in this type of promotional video, but obviously, it’s not there, and that makes Jack growl as he looks at that very spot, but then turns to the camera.
Jack: I make no excuses for what happened. I got beat, my head wasn’t in the game. I blame myself, because I don’t need to make excuses. Because I could and I would be justified, but no, there is no time for excuses. I dropped the ball and Mark Cross ran with it. That’s on me. I should still be the SCW World champion, and hell, I should have beat Mac Bane’s ass and won the Internet championship as well, and anybody who knows me, and has seen me in that ring, knows that it’s true. But that’s not what happened. I lost the SCW championship, but I will not say that Mark Cross is better than me. No, Mark Cross wrestled the match of his life, and now he’s off somewhere fishing or some shit because he clearly wasn’t built to be the World champion and it shows. That’s just the facts of the situation.
So, I needed to take a break, and recharge my batteries. I shot up the ladder of SCW quicker than anybody breathing and I went straight to the top and I beat the best there was, or so he thought, and I won the world championship, and it anybody in charge of this company has any common sense, they know I’m ready to pick up right where I left off. But then again, one of the people in charge loves glitter and puppies and this sappy horseshit, so who the fuck knows when I’m going to be where I need to be.
As I said, it’s nobody’s business but mine, where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing. All anybody needs to know at this point, is that I’m back. It’s as simple as that. I took the time I needed to take, and if anybody has a problem with that, they can kick rocks because it’s my business. But I will tell you that I watched from home, and I watched a bunch of people fumble around and then act like they were any good. And now you got these pieces of trash, thinking that they got what it takes. You punk kids running around here, you got people simply chasing championships for no other reason than to have them, and you got a bunch of losers fighting for the chance at a championship they will probably lose on their first defense. It’s really sad the way things dropped off once I decided to take a break.
It’s almost like I cleaned out most of the garbage, and then as soon as I step away, someone fills that void with more garbage. So I guess once again, I will do what I do best and that’s whoop these dude’s asses and take my place at the top where I belong. Jack shakes his head, still disgusted with how he views the SCW landscape.
Jack: But I bet all you people forgot about me, didn’t you? Yeah, because I wasn’t constantly tweeting or posting shit on social media, and you know why? Because I’m not a diva looking for attention. I ain’t one of these losers you got posting every waking moment of their life, and exercising their twitter fingers because up in their feels about everything under the sun. No, I handled my business, and when the time was right, I showed up. And trust me, when I jumped that guardrail, and when I stood in that ring, a lot of those jack-offs in the back started hanging their heads. They started to moan and groan, to bitch and complain under their breath about how I was going to step right back in the spot I left just a couple of months ago. And do you know why? Because that’s exactly what’s about to happen. Oh yeah, they’re all going to complain, but ain’t one of them gonna be able to do a damn thing about me. I’m about to once again, run roughshot over this group of chumps, and at the end of the day, before the year is out, I will be back on top of the mountain once again. And if you don’t think so, please have your head examined, or possibly seek some doctor’s help, because there is something wrong with you. I am NOT the one you want to bet against. You will be going fucking broke.
But, I did hear the cries from SCW, tagging me in some kind of tweet about winning the Internet championship, some kind of tournament or some shit? I don’t give a rat’s ass about the Internet championship, I’m not really on the internet unless I choose to be. Mostly, I do my own thing because I’m have grown adult business to take care off and spending my time oogling twitter thots and exchanging with keyboard warriors is a waste of my time. My time is precious. So, don’t be sitting here, hoping I’m coming back for less than what I had before. And take that in more ways than one. The fact is the Internet champion does not interest me. When I shoot, I aim for the top. I already hit the top two different times and had successful defenses. I’m not a puppy or some mangy dog that dances for treats. I do what I want to do, and I’ve more than earned the right to talk as much shit as I do. Because they ain’t nobody out there, that can stop me.
Go ahead, you can look around the roster, think of every single so-called superstar in SCW and tell me that one of them is just going to roll over me like I’m nothing. Tell me that there’s a guy you have complete confidence in. The fact is, you can’t and you know it. There is a reason I shot straight to the top and became the SCW champion. It’s because I am fucking good. One of the best, and I haven’t even PEAKED yet, you understand that? Look, you can call me cocky, you can call me arrogant, you can call me, whatever you like, but the one thing you will do, is show me the proper respect for what I have done. You will put some respect on the name of Jack Washington. I tell it like it is, and that’s just too much for some people to handle. It’s not my fault that they are soft. It’s not my fault that they are walking around here, all of them fucking hypocrites and liars, who change how they feel about cheers and boos about as much as I change my socks. It gets so confusing to watch SCW and see why I should care about any of these chumps when they smile in your face and stab you in the back. Me? I don’t do that. I’ll stab you in the front, right to your chest, while I look you square in the eye. But then you got people like my opponent, Austin James Mercer is the very definition of the type of characters you have in SCW. Jack cracks a rare grin, more sarcastic than anything, but it is quickly replaced by a scowl again.
Jack: You see I remember a lot of stuff. I remember when Austin James Mercer was running his mouth, and trying to avenge when I beat the shit out of his trainer, and then I beat the shit out of him. I remember those speeches about how Austin wasn’t Alex Jones, and they might be on the same team, we aren’t the same person. Yeah, does anyone else remember that shit? What a load of bullshit that turned about to be, huh? Looks like I was right the whole time to call him a lap dog, and errand boy, and a liar. Because he turned out to be all three. As soon as he thought it was convenient, and because I had beaten him into irrelevancy, all that noble shit went out the window. Turns out Austin is everything I said he was and more, but again, the whole reason for that was to dig himself out of the grave I put him and Wolfslair into.
And now once again he’s walking around like he’s a big, tough bad ass again. I mean, how many different ways can I call this guy a fraud? I have proven it time and time again and now he’s gotta give himself a cool twitter nickname like that shit means anything. You can’t just have a name, my guy? You can’t just be Austin James Mercer? Why not? Well, don’t answer that, bruh, I already know the answer, and so do you. Because Austin James Mercer, on name alone, is lame. It’s boring, it’s fucking white bread. So, you gotta pick a name like “Triple Crown Austin” Oh, because at separate points, before the real talent came along, you were the World champion? And then at one point, you managed to hold onto the Internet championship for six months? And now... holy shit a couple of months ago you won the Mixed tag team championships. What happened? What happened? Two years ago, you were on top! What happened?
Oh, that’s right... people like me, exposed you for being a fruad.
And now here you are, attempting scrape up whatever relevancy you have left and make yourself seem important again. The truth is, you know you were trying to lie about yourself and trying to convince the entire world that you were someone you weren’t. And now, you’re even less. Am I an asshole? Of course I am. Do I cheat, do I take shortcuts? You damn right. But one thing you won’t ever be able to call me, is a liar. Because I speak the truth. And as soon as I moved past you Austin, you turned on a dime and did a 180 about spoke about how it was the real you and you really were just like Alex Jones. And you tried to cover up the fact that you’re a liar by saying you were playing a role. So, you’re a fake, right? Good to know. I’m glad that at least now, you accept it. I mean, you really just do a piss poor job of owning it, but what else can you do when you get exposed like that, right? Jack shakes his head again, finally standing up.
Jack: But I’ll tell you what, Austin, my first match back, they gave me you. You know and I know that I’m going to whoop your ass again, because that’s what people like me, do to people like you. You are being FED to me. Why? Because I’m a star, and you’re just a... I don’t even know if flash in the pan is fitting at this point. I don’t even know what you even are right now. You’re just here. Plain ol’ garbage ass Austin Mercer. Literally all this is, is a warm-up for me to get right. This is like when you’re like Penn State and you play Ohio. It’s nothing to me, but a warm-up. I will run through you like a hot knife through butter, because I am better than you, Austin.
But it’s not all bad for you, is it? No, you get to bring that shiny tag championship to the ring, and hold it up like you’re fucking proud of it or whatever, and show it off to all the fans, and for... roughly 10 to 15 minutes, you get to be back in the spotlight again. MY spotlight. You get to be back in the main event, a place that you were sent packing from some time ago. And so, I want you to enjoy it, Austin. I want you to take all the time you can, walking to the ring and soaking up that feeling of a main event, soak up that feeling that on this night, you are in the last match on the show, the most important match, the one everyone will be coming to see. Take a look at how many fans are in the arena and make some eye contact with them, let them know who you are, and enjoy that moment.
Because at the end of the day, all of it, is going away. I’m going to walk down to the ring, some people will cheer, most will boo, but they know who I am. And then, I will proceed to treat you like the bitch you are, and beat you, yet again, and I will walk away the winner, in the main event, in the last match, in the most important match, and you will able to say at this point, that at least, you had at least one more main event match, with the best thing in SCW history. That’s what this is, Austin. It will be a important night for both of us. For you, it’s your last dance with any sort of main event scene, and for me? Picking up where I left off putting everyone else on notice that I am back, and I am going right back where I belong.
I hope the champ is watching. Jack gives a tip of the cap, despite not actually having any hat on.
Jack: Yeah, I see ya over there Tex. I don’t sweat you. When the time is right, I will whoop your ass, just like I will Austin’s this Sunday. But I do hope you are watching. I do hope you take me seriously. I mean, in the end, it doesn’t really matter if you do or not, the end result will be the same. But I really want you to watch what I do to Austin this Sunday. I want you to have your undivided attention on the screen. I don’t want you looking at your little phone, or messing around with your crazy-ass wife or whatever. No, I want you to have your two beady eyes locked on your television, your laptop, or if your ass is backstage, I want your eyes fixed on the monitor with the main event on it. I want you eyes glued to the screen, because you are getting a glimpse into your future This Sunday. The clock started on your title reign the moment I hopped that guardrail. You aren’t the one that took it, but you’re the one that has what belongs to me.
Believe me, Tex. I am going to be the biggest problem you have ever had in your life. You best be ready, and you best take my warning. I will be knocking at your door very, very soon.
Austin, I’ll see your bitch ass on Sunday. Now get out of my house. Jack shoots a glare to the camera as we go to black
Click. TAKING. BACK. WHAT'S. MINE.
