Sean couldn't have given two shits about Sri Lanka. It's people were repulsive and the area stunk of a third world cesspool that wasn't deserving of his piss, much less his presence. He enjoyed spitting in the faces of those undeserving slack jaws of Colombo, just as much as spitting in the face of the most undeserving of them all....Kain.
The man who would never be deserving of the SCW world heavyweight championship. Sean Jackson's world heavyweight championship.
July 17th
Dallas, Texas
Cameron Duke was beside himself with anger. From day one of Sin City's tour in Africa, he had tried to get his daughter away from the resident parasite, and from day one it had ended in failure. As he stood next to his office window, looking out over the high rise skyline of Dallas, Cameron wished he knew the location of his daughter.
Taking in a deep breath, he turns away from the window as the twisting of the knob alerts that someone is walking in. As the door swings open the top man of Duke and Duke Incorporated waits patiently as his secretary Lauren is followed into the room by a total stranger.
"Mr. Duke, this gentleman insisted on speaking with you."
Raising an eyebrow, Cameron is overtaken with intrigue. When it came to knowing people in the oil business, Mr. Duke was at the top of his game. However, this individual was somebody he wasn't familiar with. He could have sent the man packing right then and there, but instead humors the entrance by motioning for the stranger to continue with his path.
"Then by all means, let him in."
On command, Lauren steps to the side as the stranger makes his grand entrance into Cameron's office. As he does, Cameron slowly steps towards his desk and has a seat.
"Now then, how can I help youuuuu....?"
His question lingers for a few moments, as it becomes obvious that Cameron is fishing for the stranger's name. In his line of business, it is always better to address a person by their name as opposed to something generic like *hey you*.
Of course, the stranger takes the not so subtle hint and levels the playing field.
"Mr. Duke, my name is Paul Stratton and I represent the now defunct National Wrestling Alliance..."
As he takes a seat opposite of Cameron, Paul wastes little time in getting to the meat of his visit.
"A company that pre-dates every wrestling organization on this planet from 1948 to..."
Okay, okay...here is where Cameron becomes lost on the reasoning behind the face to face meeting. With a wave of the oil tycoon's hand, the smooth talking Paul Stratton stutters out the few remaining words...while watching the hand floating back and forth in front of his eyes.
"Paul is it?"
Mr. Stratton nods, confusion etched on his face.
"I am in the oil business, been there all my life. So the question begs, why in the hell are you in my office talking about professional wrestling?"
Cameron Duke, his eyes narrowing, leans forward with his elbows on the top of the solid oak desk.
"I have spent the better part of fifteen years trying to get my daughter away from cretins like you and..."
Paul sees his opening and swoops in.
"Mr. Duke, I mean no disrespect but, I believe I can help you with that. The reason I am here is due to your son in law running around with a championship belt that doesn't belong to him."
Now THAT captures Cameron's attention. Could it be true? could Sean actually be running around with a stolen championship? The thought brings a glimmer of hope to the otherwise dismal past several months that he's had to endure with Pamela on this overseas tour.
"Let me see if I'm understanding you correctly. You are claiming that Sean is walking around with a stolen championship?"
Cameron leans back in his seat, his hands clasped together and fingers intertwined, patiently waiting for Mr. Stratton's response.
"That is exactly what I'm saying" Paul replies, a smile slowly beginning to form. "And if you make things easier for us, then by proxy sir, we'll make things easier for you."
Now confusion is definitely setting in. If the man is running around with stolen property....
"Mr. Stratton I'm not a judge so, I'm not sure where I can help to make anything easy for anyone."
"Ahh, but you do have the means of freezing accounts and severely limiting his options of an adequate defense. With no money, no resources, we get what we want and so do you Mr. Duke."
The smile is quickly returned by Mr. Duke as his hand comes up to his chin, a devious thought now being given birth. That being the abortion of a marriage he never approved of.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the world a different kind of stage was being set. With Climax Control taking place in Hong Kong, the SCW world heavyweight champion decided to make his way to China a few days early...and for good reason.
Dark Tiger Sebastian Hardin.
Now there was a reason for concern. Even though Sean Jackson had faced some of the best stars Sin City had to offer, none of them were as tall as the Dark Tiger. At 7'1, Sebastian stood head and shoulders above everyone and was almost a foot taller than the world champion.
"Congratulations Sebastian."
Now there was something you didn't hear every day. Until the camera flickered to life, there was that moment where people could believe the compliment was coming from someone else. But as the camera comes into focus, all doubts quickly fade away as the world champion fills the screen.
"You finally get to step into the big time. Where your talents will be pushed to the limit by the greatest pure wrestler on this God's green Earth...."
As the camera pans back, the suited up world champion with the championship title draped over his shoulder begins to point back towards himself.
"Me."
Almost on cue, he begins to tap the faceplate with his free hand. After all, how can an individual be the best if he doesn't possess the world title?
"Now granted, I know what you're thinking Sebastian. How can a man my size, honestly be able to compete against a specimen such as yourself?"
Taking his hand off of the championship belt, he begins to mock the height of the Dark Tiger by leveling it off at eye level, then slowly moving it up and down. Once he is finished, a smile begins to form and a twinkle gleams in his eye.
"But what you should be asking yourself is this. How can a man like you, honestly believe he can compete against someone like me?"
After letting the rhetorical question linger for a few moments, Sean breaks the silence and continues on point.
"Sure, you are a big guy. But if that was the tilting point in your favor, then you would have been world champion by now. But the fact of the matter is that size doesn't mean squat in this business."
To make his point, Sean hands the world championship off camera and begins to take off his suit jacket. Once that is removed, he unbuttons the dress shirt and takes that off as well. After exposing his ripped upper body and chiseled abs, the world championship is handed back to him.
"I'm almost a foot smaller than you, practically seventy pounds lighter..."
He then slings the championship belt back over his exposed shoulder, making sure his name on the faceplate is clearly noticeable.
"And yet, I stand on top of this mountain as YOUR world heavyweight champion. Take Gabriel for instance, a former world champion who was known for his head games. A man who made a living at taking people out of their comfort zone and forcing mistakes..."
Yes, there is a hint of respect in speaking about Gabriel.
"Or how about Despayre? a man who along with Gabriel stood atop the tag team world for five years..."
Sean momentarily holds up five fingers.
"Managing to mow through everyone without losing a single tag team match. Hell, when the two of them got together in that ring, they were solid gold, practically unbeatable."
The smile disappears and is replaced with a stone cold serious look, his eyes narrowing as that good time feeling begins to drift away.
"That is until I got here. Now all of a sudden Gabriel is no longer able to play mind games, Despayre no longer *hears* the voices, and Kain?"
Sean rolls his eyes. Yeah he may have some respect for Kain, but for crying out loud, it was time to let it go. He got caught cheating, trying to pass a fan off as the world champion and he paid for it...move on.
"He wants to blame his failures on something called twin magic as if I needed to cheat in order to beat him."
It is here that Sean decides to take the verbal propaganda straight to Kain himself.
"Look Kain, do yourself a favor and just accept the facts. I'm still the world champion because I'm the best, not because you tried to pass a fan off as me and got caught. Had you spent more time on your short comings, trying to actually make yourself better, you wouldn't have to resort to short cuts and cheating."
Sean defiantly points towards the camera, not wasting any time in continuing his verbal attack.
"But that's what you get for paying some slack jawed fan with the common sense of a blade of grass to pretend he's the world champion. Some nobody you could get a cheap win on just so you could convince the world you were world champion worthy. Well Kain, I want you to pay very close attention to my match this Sunday, because I'm going to show you how a true champion acts inside of the ring."
Inhale.exhale
"Which brings me back to you Sebastian."
After the brief verbal diatribe towards Kain, the world champion turns his attention back to his opponent.
"Can you feel it coming Dark Tiger? Is your heart racing yet? your palms sweating?"
He cocks his head to one side, wondering if his opponent really is having trepidations towards the match. If not, then maybe his constant speaking of the match will get that desired effect.
"Come on Sebastian, it's only human nature for those reactions to occur. After all, this is going to be the toughest match of your career...and against your toughest opponent. I hope you realize that the intransitive perverts making up the Chinese fan base won't give a damn about you being *in over your head*, just that they want you to step into that ring and entertain them."
Hell, he's done everything but convince the Dark Tiger that they'll be performing in the Tokyo Dome. Wait scratch that, you don't want to give Sean Jackson any ideas like that.
"Which I have no problem doing. Hell, I've been entertaining the slack jawed masses for over a year here, and haven't shown any signs of slowing down....and why should I? They will plop down their hard earned money, expecting to see Sean Jackson drill his knee into the back of someone's skull and as always, I aim to please."
Ah yes, that devastating knee which has put down many a superstar. But with Sebastian's height advantage, will that somehow make the high knee a non factor?
"Which means that as soon as you hit the canvas, you had better get your bearings straight before getting back up because my dear friend Sebastian, if you end up on all fours and the back of your head instinctively pops up..."
You can figuratively see the wheels spinning in Sean Jackson's head. It's as if he takes great pleasure in the mental images created in his mind, of injuries sustained by people he hasn't even fought yet...
And yes, that includes mental images of Sebastian Hardin.
"Then I'm going to drive my knee into it with as much malice as I possibly can. Now I completely understand that these are just words and there's no reason for you to fear them. But Sebastian, I'm not stepping into the ring to exchange words with you..."
He shakes his head.
"No, not even close. I throw a devastating knee because I understand what it takes to kill a snake, to kill a bear, to kill a seven foot monster..."
Again, that smile.
"You have to remove the head in order to kill the body, it's just that simple. So believe me when I tell you Sebastian, you will come to the ring on Sunday like the Dark Tiger you are. You will flex those muscles, you will intimidate those ankle high mouth breathers who fear you to be this unstoppable monster. You will be head and shoulders above everyone, suddenly believing your own hype. But then, all that goes right out the window when I step out onto the entrance ramp...."
Through the smile comes the beginning of a not so veiled threat. Sean might not be seven feet tall, he isn't anywhere close to three hundred pounds, but he IS one of the most dangerous men on SCW's roster.
"And you know beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the absolute best in the world is about to make that slow trek towards wrestling immortality. A man skilled enough to counter those awesome muscles, skilled enough to slay the dragon by chopping you down limb by limb by limb. Yes Sebastian, for all of your hype and for all of the fan fare from those who believe you to be the chosen one who finally stops me....All that comes to an end the moment I drill my knee into the back of your skull."
Sean holds up the world championship.
"At that moment, the entire wrestling world will finally realize what I've known all along. That even though you enter Hong Kong roaring like a beast, you will leave with a whimper. Guaranteed."
Fade.
