Little Jack had never been a popular child. Not in school, not at home with his single mother. A single mother who blamed her only child for her husband leaving their family, and relegating her to supporting herself as well as the small boy on the salary of a waitress. Of course, the fact that she was an altogether unpleasant individual was completely lost on her.
It simply had to be someone else’s fault.
So Little Jack was quite surprised when, on his birthday, he was led into his absolute favorite place to be -- McDonalds -- to be greeted with several of his classmates shouting “SURPRISE!” and sernading him with “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” A birthday party at McDonalds! Was there anything better!?
Little Jack sat with the colorful party hat on his head, the center of attention, as a handful of the invited children played games with him and gifted him with some of the best toys he had ever laid his hands and eyes on -- because he had so few. His mother’s meager income simply did not warrant such luxuries -- even if it did warrant her spending enough on herself for makeup, movies and beer.
But his mom told him to wait until they got home to open them, and focus instead on playing with his friends, eating that glorious greasy McDonalds food, and of course -- the cake!
Imagine then his heartbreak when he was brought home, and his new toys locked in his mom’s closet.
To be sold.
To pay for his own birthday party.
Jack'd the Ripper:
“And here all this time, I thought they didn’t like me.”
“They didn’t like that I touched their precious Belinda, that I wanted to say ‘hello’ to her up close and personal. Maybe they thought I wished her harm, but if anyone wanted to hurt someone, I’d say that it was that blonde tart who jumped me. Did I lay a hand on him?”
Jack’d rocked back and forth, shaking his head with an emphatic ‘no.’
Jack'd the Ripper:
“I did not! And their security. They put their hands on me, and forced me out of the building and do you know, they didn’t even let me get my luggage. They threw it out to me, and then one of the bosses -- I forget which one -- told me I was suspended until further notice. Fancy that. Suspended for taking a liking to Belinda Simone, but the men who attacked me? Nothing. And then … oh and then…”
He smiled a toothy smile that showed his pearly whites, and a cracked tooth from a previous battle no doubt.
Jack'd the Ripper:
“I thought I was being brought back early to face Jack Russow, but we all know what happened then. The boy was afraid, but to protect him they just extended my punishment and gave him all the time in the world. Time enough from what I hear to lose his title in his first defense and then he wimps out and walks away. Says he needs a break but he just gets discovered working somewhere else where the competition isn’t so high.”
Jack’d looked up at the camera from the side.
Jack'd the Ripper:
“And then there’s you, Austin James Mercer.”
He giggled.
Jack'd the Ripper:
“Just when I thought they didn’t like me, didn’t trust me -- didn’t want me around … they give me you. THEY give ME you! The Internet Champion! The second-tier from the top! Oh sure, sure! There’s the Roulette Champion -- whatever his name is -- but that title lost a lot of what it was when Russow beat Griffin Hawkins. Now the first match the new champion is in, he loses?”
Jack’d nibbled the tip of his forefinger and closed his eyes, his shoulders shaking in merriment.
Jack'd the Ripper:
“But not you, right Austin? When was the last time you lost a match? When was the last time your shoulders were pinned to the canvas? When was the last time you looked across the ring into the eyes of a man staring right back and you thought to yourself…”
Jack’d eyes focus into the camera and there is a vacant stare behind them.
Jack'd the Ripper:
“...’I’m fucked.’ Hm? I don’t even care that your Internet title isn’t on the line. It’s no real consequence to me. I beat you this time, then it will be next time. Maybe you thought the same thing I did when this match was announced, huh? Austin? Did you? Did you think that because they put their mighty Internet Champion against the new guy -- the guy not seen in weeks -- it meant that they liked you? It meant that they thought you deserved an easy ride? Maybe even a guaranteed win?”
He shook his head, eyes closed, with a smile and held up a finger.
Jack'd the Ripper:
“No. Nononono. If anything Austin, it means the exact opposite. They don’t like you. They want to see you hurt. Battered. Bruised!”
He turned his head and grabbed the camera and pulled it right up into his eyes.
Jack'd the Ripper:
“Broken!”
