Prologue:

Jack was fresh off of a victory over Bill Barnhart, but was still sour over not winning King for a Day, and now wondering what was up next in his future, and what he could do to get what he truly felt he deserved in a world championship opportunity. Jack has always felt slighted, but he appeared to be as a crossroads.

However, with the announcement of vacancy of the SCW World title, Jack was going to be sure to throw his name in the ring for a possible opportunity. But Jack would have to focus on facing SCW legend Goth once again before any decisions were made.

 

Outside the ring, Jack and his family looked to have a new face running the casino, citing Brian’s declining health, Jason’s drug issues, and Jack’s traveling. They seemed to have found a new man in a man named Jimmy, and now all that was left was the finalize that deal, with a background check.

 

--

Washington Estate

Las Vegas, NV

 

Brian sat in his own recliner sleeping comfortably as Jack simply sat at the kitchen table, looking at his phone, as if waiting for it to ring The house was super quiet. Eerily quiet. Finally, Brian was the first to stir from his nap, rising slowly and stretching, coughing and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Jack paid this very little mind and Brian slowly came out it walking to the fridge and pulling out some lunch meat to make himself a sandwich. He noticed Jack sitting there, just looking at his phone.

 

Brian: You alright there, Stick?

 

Jack: Just waiting to hear back from Bobby.

 

Brian: You know that could take a while, trying to dig up dirt on somebody. You gotta watch them and see how they move.

 

Jack: I’m aware of that.

 

Brian: And I’m aware that staring at your phone ain’t gonna make it go any faster.

 

Jack: Then what do you suppose I do?

 

Brian: Go try and find something constructive. You’re a wrestler ain’t ‘cha? Go wrestler or something.

 

Jack shot daggers at Brian, who arched a brow.

 

Brian: Touched a nerve I see.

 

Jack: I’m not in the mood to talk about it.

 

Brian: So, you would rather just look at your phone and watch as it does nothing all day?

 

Jack: Damn right.

 

Brian: Must be rough.

 

Jack: I don’t want to hear it.

 

Brian went back to making his sandwich chuckling to himself. Jack was getting more and more irritated by the second.

 

Jack: What is so god damn funny?!

 

Brian: You. It’s very funny that you’re so wound up about this.

 

Jack: Because it’s bullshit!

 

Brian: I’ll bet.

 

Brian finishing making his sandwich and put away all the lunch meat and bread and sat down at the table, pouring himself a drink of booze along the way. He sat quietly, simply eating the sandwich as Jack finally let it out.

 

Jack: They just don’t see it, and it’s bullshit!

 

Brian perked up, as if hearing this for the first time.

 

Brian: What? I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention.

 

Jack again glared at Brian, if looks could kill Brian would be a pile of ooze.

 

Jack: They just keep screwing me over and making me jump through hoops.

 

Brian: Oh?

 

Jack: Don’t act like you don’t hear me talking about it all the time.

 

Brian: Oh, I do, It’s really fucking annoying, Stick. But please, tell me more.

 

Jack: Fuck you, Brian. I mean, how many more times are people just going to get handed things and I’m over here scratching and clawing and all I get are scraps. It’s bullshit.

 

Brian: Yeah, I heard that part too. So, what are you going to do about it?

 

Jack opened his mouth and then stopped. For the first time in a while, Jack was kind of speechless. It was an asshole thing to say, but in a way, Jack hadn’t been doing anything about it other than complaining. He was angry and upset for sure, at the end of the day, he was just complaining to the ether. 

He sat there, in a stunned silence, actually contemplating the question. Finally, not even looking at Brian, he answered.

 

Jack: I... I don’t know.

 

Brian: Well Stick, I suppose you better do something quick, because you know what? I’m tired of hearing you talk about how much you deserve X, Y, & Z. The facts are in, bitching about things doesn’t make them go away or change them in any way. That’s everything in this damn country. People complain about shit all the god damn time and don’t lift a finger to change it themselves. They just expect if they yell loud enough, people will hear them. 

 

Jack looked at Brian, who took a bite of his sandwich to finish it off.

 

Brian: And that’s not the way the world works.

 

Brian dusted his hands, wiped his face and hands with a napkin, and threw the napkin and plate away. He sat back down and Jack was still in a state of shock pretty much. He had no idea what he needed to do or say at this moment. 

 

Brian: So, what are you going to do, are you going to complain about it so more like a... what do they call them broads? Karen? Kathy? 

 

Jack: Karen.

 

Brian: Whichever. You’re being that.

 

Jack: But I’m right.

 

Brian: And? What does being right have to do with it? Who cares if you’re right? Do you know how many loud ass wrong ass opinions there are out there? Millions. Being right, being wrong, being loud? I don’t understand the kids from your generation, Stick. The old phrase still works best. Actions speak louder than words.

 

Jack: BUT I DO...

 

Jack stopped, stared at Brian with a blank expression and buried his face into the phone again. He was completely now just disinterested in the conversation.

 

Brian: Actions speak louder than words, Stick.

 

Finally, after a long silence, the phone did ring. Jack took a second to snap out of it and pick answer the call from Bobby.

 

Jack: Bobby? Yeah... yeah I’ll have them escort you in.

 

Jack ended the call and waited. After a few seconds, one of the larger security guards brought Bobby in.

 

Jack: Thank you Marlon.

 

Bobby came and sat at the table as Marlon waited.

 

Jack: We’ll be in a minute, you can wait outside.

 

Marlon: Yes, sir.

 

Marlon exited as Jack turned to Bobby.

 

Jack: So, what’s the scoop on this Jimmy dude.

 

Bobby: Man, this dude is legit. Been doing all the things I can for ya, Jack. This guy is connected. Used to being in the underground stuff. But built himself a reputation. Been asking on the streets and they all seem to know him. They all respect him. I think you’re making a good choice because I think it would be good to have this dude on side if anything ever happens. Plus, got the rep for being a stand-up guy. So, this is a good choice.

 

Jack: You think so? He mentioned something about a “Jazzy B” Out in California. Anything there.

 

Bobby: Oh, Jazzy B dealt with a lot of stuff. She’s running her own stuff. In an out of jail though. I think she might have even been in the pro wrestling thing. At least that’s what I heard.

 

Jack perked up.

 

Jack: Really?

 

Bobby: That’s what they say.

 

Jack: Alright, thanks Bobby. Keep an eye out for anything else. 

 

Bobby: You got it.

 

Jack and Bobby shook hands, Jack holding Bobby’s head close to his own.

 

Jack: You’re my boy.

 

Bobby: I got you, Jack.

 

Bobby soon departed and Jack took a deep breath and began walking towards his gym.

 

Brian: Good talk, I guess.

 

Jack: Don’t worry, I’m about to go make things happen.

 

--

 



 

Click:

 

Jack looks exasperated as he paces back and forth. The man almost appears to be at his wits end as he begins.

 

Jack: I don’t know what else you want me to do. I really don’t. I’m getting so sick and tired, and really sick and tired of being sick and tired. I’m just over this nonsense right now. Who in their right mind is not watching me, and seeing the results and not rewarding me for what I deserve? It’s an absolute disgrace to this business that I have gotten what I deserve. 

And don’t try and give me the sour grapes look. Don’t try and tell me that I haven’t earned it. Don’t sit here and try and bullshit me that the King for a Day match was my opportunity. I’ve seen people get championship matches for less and less every damn month. It’s like we just pick names out of a god damn hat these days. In fact, we do. Hell, we let the Bombshell’s champion just pick names at random. But me? Naw not me. I go around and beat people over and over again and what does it get me? Nothing. I may occasionally get thrown a bone when they all feel like it. But now, with all the nonsense, this has become a strange situation and a golden opportunity all at the same time. 

The old man, who has no business winning the world title in the fucking first place, now, has had a bout of dementia or old timer’s disease or whatever. Don’t know, don’t care. That title, is now vacant. It’s vacant, and it has only one home. My waist. How many more times, are you all going to deny me? Because if I’m not in conversation, hell, if I'm not THE conversation, then something is wrong. So, I’m going to let you all think about it, and I need my answer by the end of show on Sunday.

But, of course in their infinite wisdom, they have to continue to give me stupid ass hurdles over and over again trying to make me “earn it” when they know damn well I’ve earned it time and time again and they just keep moving the damn goalposts.

Now look, I don’t care that Austin James Mercer put me against Bill Barnhart. I beat his ass and that was that. He thought that was a cute thing there and I’m sure he just was tickled and cracked that dumb ass grin he has because he thought he was so clever. It was a minor inconvenience and I’m past that now. But once again, these people just crawl out of the woodwork, coming back time and time again, apparently just to be a pain in my ass.

Yes Goth, I'm talking about you.

 

Jack throws his hands up, again just frazzled about the upcoming match.

 

Jack: You see it, I see it. We’re against each other. And quite frankly, I was DREADING doing this again this week. Because you just don’t take the hint, do you? You don’t get it. I just wanted you to go away. Go away and don’t come back around anymore. I thought, after last time you would finally take the hint, walk away and stay your ass at home drinking prune juice, yelling at clouds or whatever it is old people do these days. I just wanted to be rid of you. Your presence is annoying to me. I was breathing so well the past few months know good and well you were out of the picture. 

Imagine my chagrin when you popped back up again like a fucking pimple recently.

Why? Why Goth? Why are you making this a thing again. You are literally the Spongebob meme right now. How many times do I have to teach you this lesson? How many times do I have to beat your old ass down before you understand how this works? What more can I do at this point? I have beaten this man time and time again, and then he scored a fluke victory and proceeded to do jack shit with the Internet title that I just won it again recently without too much trouble. Like, what more can I say about this man? What more do I need to do to finally rid myself of his presence? Why will he not just stay down? I’m just come to the conclusion that Goth is just too stupid to stay down.

I’ve gone over this so many times before and now all those thoughts have come flooding back into my brain the time this match was announced. Do you guys want me to beat him so badly that he physically CAN’T come back? Is he that big of a pain in the ass to all of you running this company as well? Like, what the fuck is there left for me to bring up about Goth that doesn’t make this feel like a re-run? How much is there left to really discuss? I have to ask these questions man, because it’s pissing me off that it’s almost like it’s my day to watch Goth and make sure he doesn’t piss himself. It’s not a job I want or need. You keep throwing this man at me even though he doesn’t deserve to be the same ring with me.

Yes, I said it, and I said it because it’s true. That’s what I do. And now it’s beginning to look like I’m going to have to go that far because unless I do it, it simply won’t be done and Goth will continue to pop up over and over despite the fact his welcome was worn out long ago. I suppose it’s my duty to beat his brains out and leave him laying again. 

But you know, I don’t even want to do that. That’s why I was dreading this. Because I don’t want to have this old man’s blood on my hands and now, my hand is being forced in this situation. This is not what I wanted to have to do, but apparently, I don’t have a choice in this situation do I? 

So, now I’m going to have to say some things that I don’t really want to, but it has to be said.

 

Jack looks into the camera, shaking his head, almost pleading with his eyes.

 

Jack: Goth, I want you to look into my eyes and understand what I’m about to say to you.  I’m in this position and I don’t like it. But I’ve got to tell you the truth.

I don’t want you to show up on Sunday. 

I don’t. I don’t want to see you in the ring anymore. I don’t want you to keep coming back and taking the beatings you keep taking. Because your time is over and the thing is, it’s not even just you that doesn’t realize it. It’s the people who continue to parade you out like some circus freak time and time again like it’s not slowing killing you.

I want you to stay your ass at home and take the forfeit and then we can call it good. I don’t want to see you ever again at this point. I’ll be the first to admit that I cannot stand you. I want you to just go away because you don’t belong here anymore. But it’s obvious that the powers that be think you can still offer something, so they’re going to keep dragging you out here and putting you in my way. It’s like they want both of us to suffer. They constantly want you to try and be the person who shuts me up, knowing damn well that you are incapable of doing so. And I guess it gasses you up to think the same thing. So you’re putting me in the spot where I have to hurt you and truth be told, I don’t want to do that. Not because I like you, not because you’ve earned my respect, it’s the simple fact that I’m tired of you.

I’m tired of dealing with you, I’m tired of hearing you, I’m tired of talking about you, and I’m just plain tired of seeing you. They are going to make me do something that I don’t want to do. You are going to make me doing something I don’t want to do. Don’t force my hand, Goth. I’m asking you right now to just walk away. Go away. Vanish. You had your time, what little of it there was, but you are simply cutting into my time, and that’s going to force a chain reaction that’s going to lead to you being put out and injured at my hands. I don’t want your blood on my hands Goth. I’ve already proven to you that I am better than you. I have proven that I am at the top of my game, and you just aren’t there anymore. It’s over for you. Stop coming back and pretending that this is still your time. 

Just walk away. 

This is the last warning, Goth. This is just going to be the last time, Goth. After this, I don’t want you to come back around here. Stop trying to make this a thing. I’m done with you. I’ve been done with you. I’ve already moved past you several months ago. Stop coming back around, stop getting in my way.

I know you’re too hard-headed to listen, but I just want it to be right here, on camera that I warned everybody about what is going to happen. I warned you all, I warned Goth. After that... none of this is my fault. What happens, is going to be on all your heads, not mine.

 

Jack shakes his head.

 

Jack: I just hope that you don’t make me do it, Goth. I know you’re going to, I know you’re going to force my hand. And so, you had better be ready to deal with the consequences.

 

Jack simply walks away and the scene fades to black.

 

Click.

 

Prologue:

Jack was victorious in his last match against Jaycee McDonald, earning his the right to be in the King for a Day match at Violent Conduct. This is of course a match Jack thought he should have been in as he won the last one and shouldn’t have had to jump through hoops, but he did, and now, he is one match away from getting to make Climax Control in his image. All that remains before that is a tag match between the four men who will collide at Violent Conduct in the King for a Day match. As Jack teams with Alexander Raven to wrestle Austin Mercer, and Miles Kasey.

 

Outside the ring, Jack had another scare with his brother overdosing on morphine after a meeting with Sonny, an on again off again rival casino owner about people from Philadelphia possibly waging war on the street of Vegas with Jack, and with Sonny. Jack must piece this all together and it starts with family.

--

Washington Estate,

Las Vegas, NV.

 

Jason is in bed. He clearly needed to be. Resting up and recovering from his overdose. Jack walked in with a glass of water, and sat down at Jason’s bedside and ensured he was still awake and alert.

 

Jack: You okay?

 

Jason: I’m... I’m sorry bro.

 

Jack: Don’t. I don’t need sorry from you. I need you to get better.

 

Jason: I know I shouldn’t have done it man, but I was in pain. I needed it. I just.. I took too much man.

 

Jack: Why didn’t you tell me that? We could get you some help, bro. You don’t need to hide that kind of shit from me. Seriously. Don’t do that. 

 

Jason: I needed it.

 

Jack: I get that part, Jason. I understand that you need it for everything you went through as a solider. I get that man. But you hid it from me on the sly. You didn’t tell me. Don’t do that to me, don’t do that to this family. 

 

Jason: I... I’m sorry.

 

Jack: Just get better. And when you get better, we’re going to get you off that, or at least get you on some kind of schedule. I’m not going to have this. I can’t lose you right now, Jay. I fucking can’t. There’s too much going on and I... WE got our backs against the wall. This isn’t the time for it. 

 

Jason: You’re right man. I’m sorry, I just... I need to rest.

 

Jack: Then rest. I’ll take care of you until you’re better, then we’ll get back to running this fucking place.

 

Jason: Yeah...
 

Jack: Yeah. Get better.


Jason: I just didn't want to fuck it up, I guess I did.


Jack: What happened happened, you are Brian are what really matters. That's what I need. I need my family. We, are all we got now. I can get revenge if they take you out. I can settle that score. I can't do anything if you take yourself out. You understand. You are too important to do that to yourself. I'm gonna get you the help you need.


Jason: Thanks, bro.


Jack: Yeah.

--

 



 

Click

 

Jack is usually in one of two modes: An agry scowl, or a smug smile, today it’s the smug smile as he lounges in his recliner to greet us.

 

Jack: Well, well, well. Look at what happened. I earned the opportunity to be in the King for a Day match, which I shouldn’t have needed to, but I jumped through the hoop placed in front of me, yet again, and now I am in the match officially. It’s becoming comical to me the amount of roadblocks that continue to be put in my way and I swerve around them every time, and yet, I can’t get any respect. I mean, my god this is getting sad. The state of this division is a mess and I just have to roll my eyes at people like Calvin Harris who is just floundering and has to put his stupid face on TV and still, nobody gives a rats ass about him. I don’t understand why he doesn’t go around shaking hands and whatever. Isn’t that what a champion is supposed to do? Instead he’s on TV basically saying “Look at me, I have a title!” and still... nobody cares. I made that title mean something and he is basically taking all of my hard work and flushing it down the toilet. But hey, that’s what a champion is, I guess. Way to be, right?

But he can have that title, and lower its credibility, I’ve already moved on to bigger and better things. It’s only a matter of time before I win King for a Day, and yes, I will put myself in a world title match, and then I will win it, and then everything will be back to the way it should be. The only real loose end is this stupid tag match putting the other three losers in a match with me. You all know how I am with this. I don’t play well with others. I don’t need anybody else to watch my back, you know why? Because I know enough to do it on my own and not trust any of the clowns. I’m not going to put one ounce of trust into these guys, and why should I? Then again, the whole concept here is that nobody should trust their partner. But I don’t work well with others unless they actually listen to what I say. I’m a leader and the face of this franchise for a reason.

 

Jack sits up in the chair, to put emphasis on his mood.

 

Jack: I already have to fucking groan because I have to team with Alexander Raven. I mean... Jesus this dude just won’t leave me alone. I thought after taking his title, and beating his ass like 5 times that he’d get the hint. But no, he’s going to stand on the apron and expect me to tag him in or like we’re going to work together or something. The only way this works is if he actually is capable on not fucking this up. Which given his history is a fool’s errand. All he has to do is not suck for 5 minutes, and we’ll actually win. But again, I have zero faith in that happening on Sunday.

I mean, Miles and Austin Mercer? Ugh, I thought Mercer was gone for good this time. He keeps coming back like a fucking pimple. He just won’t go away. He continues to stomp around like a knuckle-dragging idiot and things he’s got something. He’s mean, he’s vicious, he’s a keyboard warrior for sure. I would think someone like Austin wouldn’t bother with that, but then I remember he’s an idiot and thinks he’s so cool when the exact opposite is true. And let’s just face it, Mercer’s here because he couldn’t actually beat Miles, and Miles couldn’t beat him. It’s just so sad when this happens and then people run around like they’ve accomplished something simply because they didn’t lose. If Mercer was half the man he thinks he is, he would have beaten Miles and then Miles wouldn’t even be here. He’d be laying around licking his wounds like Carter and nobody would be batting an eyelash.

But no, obviously Austin isn’t good enough to do that, so he just lucks into this. It’s really sad. I mean, didn’t Raven have the Troll to wrestle? What the hell is up with that? Why is it I have to stave off the new up and coming wrestler, the flavor of the month, and these guys get cake walks? And not only do they get cakewalks, they don’t even win! I guess Raven won, but if you’re bragging about beating the Troll, I feel bad for you.  The point is, Mercer couldn’t get that job done, and after they beat each other up, or... Mercer failed to do enough to actually win, they’re here. Pathetic. But he’s gonna act like he’s something special, and try and lead Miles when his leadership skills couldn’t get somebody out of a t-shirt.

 
And Miles is just in the same boat. He couldn’t beat Austin Mercer, and now he’s here. I hope this dude is thanking his lucky stars that he’s here, because they continue to give him chance after chance and all he does is fail. It’s a hard luck story, and you know I’d dig it even more if it had a happy ending, but the fact is, it won’t have a happy ending. If he couldn’t beat Austin Mercer’s big goofy ass, why does he deserve to be here. That’s right, I’m questioning you, Miles. 

I'm throwing down this punk card at your feet. I did the same thing to Austin a couple of years ago, and he never bothered to pick it up. Are you going to do the same thing? And are you going to let this dude try and lead your team? He’s a moron. You may suck, but at least you’re not AS stupid. You going to sit back and let Austin Mercer tell you what to do? I know I wouldn’t. I’m questioning whether or not you have to balls to actually step up and be what everybody seems to think you are. And I can tell you, you’re not going to do it with Austin Mercer with you.

 
And Raven, You just might be the luckiest man on the planet. Because I’m going to lead you, much like I’ve lead this entire company, to a win. You will probably never win a more important match in your life. I mean, to me, this whole thing is a waste of time, but hey, don’t say I never did anything for you, because you are about to get your hand raised, once again, when you don’t even deserve it.

 
The bottom line is I’m the only winner here. The other three are losers, either by choice, or by birth. And I’m going to show everyone a little preview of what will happen at Violent Conduct when I walk away King for a Day. I might just take out all three of them Sunday, but I won’t. Not because I can’t, but because I wouldn’t rob you all of all your hard-earned money. 

 
You plop that down for me, at Violent Conduct. This will be just another example of why I am the face of this franchise.


Jack shoos the camera away as we fade out.

 

Click.

 

Prologue:

Jack was successful at Into the Void, defeating Alexander Raven and successfully defending the Internet title. It’s obviously not a title Jack was in search of, but after the event was over, it appeared there was a new found respect for him as many thought that perhaps Raven would take the title back. Jack now takes his successful defense momentum, and looks to get yet another victory as he is in a non-title match against current Roulette champion Peter Vaughn. Jack obviously remembers the last time where Peter was able to get the better of him. Can Jack right this wrong in his mind?

 

Outside the ring, Jack was able, perhaps secretly, to return to Philadelphia, in time for a brief reunion with his dead mother. But that was all Jack did in Philadelphia before Into the Void. He had been trying to find out why Anthony, a known bad seed from Philadelphia, was sent to see him directly. Perhaps this was a bad move by Jack but... perhaps it’s the start of something new?

--

Mount Peace Cemetary,

Philadelphia, PA.

 

Jack had finished the conversation with his mother’s tombstone and was leaving the cemetery, when a car pulled up in front of him. Jack was wearing a jacket and immediately reached inside from his pistol as the window rolled down. A smiling face was in the backseat, and the driver got out, and walked around to open the door, carrying an umbrella as it started to rain. Jack instantly recognized this man.

 

Jack: DeCosta.

 

DeCosta exited the car, standing and holding out a hand for a handshake.

 

DeCosta: Paulo DeCosta, I’m glad you remember me, Jackie Boy. 

 

Jack obviously did not shake this man’s hand. He knew enough not to.

 

Jack: I’m just here in between flights. But if this is where I’m going down, it’s a good a place as any.

 

Paulo raised his hands in mock surrender.

 

DeCosta: No Jackie Boy, I’m not here for a fight. I just wanted to see that you were in town. Been a long time since you came around here. All grown up now and all that. I know you’ve been wondering why Anthony came to see you. 

 

Jack: I’m more interested in knowing how you knew I was here.

 

DeCosta: Because I know things, son. People talk. The street’s talk. You know that. 

 

Jack: What is it you want then?

 

DeCosta: Just to talk. 

 

Jack: So talk.

 

DeCosta: Not here, it’s lousy weather.

 

Jack: A little rain never hurt anybody.

 

DeCosta: But a lot can kill ya.

 

Jack: I’m not getting in that car. You think I was born yesterday? You wanna talk, you talk to me, here, like a man. Just you and me.

 

DeCosta nods and smiles. that cheap, used car salesman smile.

 

DeCosta: That’s fair enough, Jackie boy. I can understand your hesitation. So we’ll talk. I know you had your cop friend snooping around trying to get some information. 

 

Jack: And? I can’t make anybody do anything. 

 

DeCosta: That’s true. But she was doing it for you. And she got you what you needed, yeah?

 

Jack: Maybe. Maybe not.

 

DeCosta: Okay, Jack, I get it. Things haven’t been good for you here for a long time. Long time.

 

Jack: You, and everybody else kicked me and my family out of here. Put a price on our heads.

 

DeCosta: That was old business. Only grudges. Some people never get over it. You know how people can get. 

 

Jack: It’s been that way for a long time. 

 

DeCosta: This is why I say it’s old business. Anthony tells me that you got yourself a little business out in Vegas.

 

Jack: I do alright.

 

DeCosta: Big money in them casinos and all that. 

 

Jack: If you’re asking for a cut, it’s not happening. I made that, on my own. It’s MINE. I left this alone, so you can leave me alone.

 

DeCosta: Whoa, whoa, no need to get hostile, Jack. It’s not like that. We heard you were doing good and I sent Anthony out to see you. Check to see if it’s true. Big wrestler and now a businessman.

 

Jack: I had good teachers.

 

DeCosta: Look, we don’t want any part of your business like that, Jack. It’s never been like that. We just want to make sure you’re okay, and to change some things from the past that don’t work anymore.

 

Jack: Is that right?

 

DeCosta: Yeah.  No backhanded deals, no cutthorat shit. I’m telling you, from me. It doesn’t get any more official than that, am I right?

 

Jack: Get to the point.

 

DeCosta: We just want to waive that little bounty of you, and your family. Okay? It’s an old hat thing. We got a good thing going here, and everything that was bad, wasn’t because of you. It was because of your old man. We didn’t need to drag you into this, nor your brothers, or old Brian. How is he, by the way?

 

Jack: Fine.

 

DeCosta: Yeah? that’s good. I’m glad to hear that. But, listen, you’re welcome here again. Okay, no bounties, no rough treatment, none of that. Those days are over. And I’m in charge now and I’m telling you, from me, right to your face, that’s done.

 

Jack: What’s the catch?

 

DeCosta: No catch, Jack.

 

Jack: There’s ALWAYS a catch. Paulo. I’m not stupid. Don’t treat me like I’m stupid.

 

DeCosta: And you’re treating me like a jerk-off. I come to you now and I say, the slate is wiped clean and you don’t want to hear it. Are you disrespecting me? Are you not going to accept my offer here? I’m offering that the stuff between your family and the rest of us, is over. Why not take it?

 

Jack: Because I know bullshit when I hear it. I know it when I smell it. It’s pretty hard to miss.

 

DeCosta: All we want, is for our boy, from our town, to remember where he came from. You’ve got a lot going on, but this is where you got your start. We just want you to remember that.

 

Jack: See, that’s a catch.

 

DeCosta: Philly made you, Jackie Boy. Philly made your family. We just don’t ever want you, to forget that.

Jack: I don’t know Paulo. The city never did anything to me or my family. It’s the other families here, that did that shit.

 

DeCosta tires of the conversation and leans into Jack.

 

DeCosta: Just remember us, that’s all. We made you.

 

DeCosta makes a simple head motion and gets back in the car as the driver comes around. The window is rolled down.

 

DeCosta: Maybe we’ll see you around more, kid. It was good to see you again.

 

DeCosta’s car drives off and Jack reaches into his jacket, only it’s not a pistol, but his phone. He pulls it out and quickly dials.

 

Brian: Stick?

 

Jack: DeCosta did send Anthony.  Said we’ve got a clean slate.

 

Brian: And you believe that?

 

Jack: Fuck no. I’ve got a flight to catch, we’ll talk more about it when I get back.



Brian: Alright. Be careful out there, Stick.


Jack: Yeah...
 

--



 

Click.

 

Jack is now wearing that cocky grin just as wide as he can, and holding up the Internet title, displaying it proudly.

 
Jack: Are you impressed yet? Have I done enough now? Do you believe me now? I just need to know because I’m out here, calling my shots, and they are hitting, all net, no rim and it looks like finally, I’m getting a modicum of respect. Far less than I deserve, but I have to start small apparently. I’ve been beating people’s asses for a long time and yet, they continue to hold their finger on me, because I tell the truth. I’m the best thing going today in this entire division and everybody wants to turn a blind eye like I haven’t been saying it for a long time.

Did I not tell you all I would beat Alexander Raven, yet again? And then go out and do just that? He wants to sit there and tweet like a beaten man, because that’s what he is. Oh, I respect Jack for taking me to my limits. Please. You should have respected me from the start. Then this wouldn’t be as humiliating as it is for you now. How’s that humble pie, Raven? Is it good? You get yourself a spoonful? You know, it’s especially satisfying when someone runs their mouth and are proven to be a fraud at the end of the day. I did that to Alexander Raven, and here I am, still your Internet champion, about to be for a long ass time because everybody knows there’s nobody that’s just gonna walk in here and beat me. 

And really, the thing is, I know why this is happening. To keep me away from the old man holding the world title so that so other relic can relive 10 years ago and justify why he comes back every year when he’s not necessary to the success of SCW. But let’s keep feeding these relics of the past their prunes and whatever so they can have their moment in the sun for they fade into obscurity. Meanwhile, the literal best thing on this roster is stuck making this Internet championship mean more than any other title in the world, despite not even getting the chance to be on TV.

Oh yeah, you didn’t notice that too? Into the Void was in the first part of May, it has basically been an entire month that I’ve been sitting here, waiting to flaunt this victory, and it’s like I don’t exist. It’s funny how that’s how we’re doing this now. It’s stupid and everybody should have caught on by now. SCW simply wants to be drug kicking and screaming to the eutopia that I would create as SCW champion. 

So, they stick me here and now? Now I have this feeling and this urge to make this championship the top title and really make it mean more important than anything. Because it the fossil’s compete for the world title, who cares? Anybody can win there, I suppose it’s who sucks less. This championship however, this will be the prize to be won. But almost like clockwork, they do their best to stifle that idea as well.

 

Jack scoffs and shakes his head, looking at his title as if apologizing to it.

 

Jack: You see what’s happening out there. This match is non-title. I’m not even defending the title, because I don’t have worthy opponents. Is it that sad around here that I cleaned out the division with one victory? Is there no one else? Is this the best they can come up with? It’s absurd and I should be demanding better. But let’s be real here, there is nothing better. You put me on the screen and guess what? You witness greatness. It’s just a fact as this point, even though most people don’t want to admit it. 

But they want to make a joke out of this by putting me in the ring with this Peter Vaughn guy again. Like, hey, this guy beat Jack one time with a horseshoe up his ass, and now, he can do it again. This fucking Janitor dude or whatever he is. The sun shines on a dog’s ass every once in a while, right? 

So, how have you been Peter? Do you even remember this last match we had? Do you remember how lucky you got? Do you remember how they sung your praises and touted you as the next big star of the company? You were the guy who was gonna rise to the top and be this big-time player? Remind me how that worked out for you. Because after that match, you sunk faster than a stone in the ocean. What happened to you man? Where did you go? What in the hell caused you to sink so low? 

All it really does is illustrate my point, I’m the best at this. I can give this untalented janitor a brush with greatness and see how he does, and what happened? How is this dude not the world champion right now? What happened? You all wanted this so badly and then... fucking nothing. Are you going to blame me for it? I mean, he beat me, right? He got the big win, he’s the conquering hero! Throw a parade for that man.

Or, just have him settle into his natural position. 

I mean, it must be something that caused him to be sitting here the Roulette champion, crashing through tables and falling off ladders and all that dumb shit to keep a title, and me, being the Internet champion, above him in the pecking order, the food chain, and any and all lists you can come up with. 

But I get it Pete, I do, for some people this game is really hard and it’s hard to be consistently great. That’s reserved for people like me. I’m great, and you had a FLASH of greatness and like a shooting star, that shit burnt out really quick. It’s really the only explaination for this. You are a flash in the pan and that’s really it. What else is there to say? You rubbed elbows with my greatness, and then it wore off. 

Let’s be honest with each other Pete, you weren’t as good as you thought, and you weren’t as good as they thought. Why do you think this match is not title for title? Because everybody knows that I would have taken your title and had both, and then I would have had to give it back and there would have been some dumb ass tournament or whatever and then BOOM, you would have won it again or something and people would still think you were something. But, you know you’re not. I know you’re not, and I’m going to go to right a wrong at Climax Control.

 

Jack flashes the cocky grin once more before continuing.

 

Jack: Oh, that’s right. It was still in the back of my mind after that match, because it didn’t feel right. But you got your fluke victory and you ran with it, straight into the ground. But you won, right? Bragging rights and all that. You are one of the very few that can have them. Except that that whole privledge goes away on Sunday after I beat you. That’s it, much like the aspiration of so many that believed in you, it just goes up in smoke, no more bragging, no more being able to say you beat me and I haven’t beat you. It’s just gonna be over and then, honestly, with the way things have turned out at this time? Why would there ever be a rubber match? Why would I need to beat you again? As far as I’m concerned, this is just me putting you down and then, yeah, I move on. I will no longer need to think about you, or anything else because you are much like Raven, you’re in the spot you were destined to be in the entire time. 

So I want you to count your lucky stars and thank everyone in SCW management that this isn’t a title match. Thank everyone in your life who has helped you get here, and hell, you should even thank me. Because at this point, you kinda owe me, don’t you? Yeah, you fucking owe me. If not for that match earlier in the year, you would be an afterthought. Nobody would think you deserve anything. I am the only reason that people are looking at you with that Roulette title and accepting it as acceptable.

Without that fluke win, without my help, everyone would be simply say “Who is Peter Vaughn?” And then following it with “Oh, he’s that wacky janitor guy” Instead of “This one time he beat Jack Washington, the best wrestler in the company” and then following that with “I was wondering what happened to that guy!” 

So yes, Pete, I will accept my thank you, on Sunday. After I beat you, you can look up and me, and nod your head and say “thanks.” Because I will be once again putting you on the map. Only this time, we won’t have this odd result of you winning and that fizzling out, while the loss makes me stronger and I go on to to make history multiple times. It’ll be the right way around this time where I beat you, and then you fizzle out again, and then I got on to make history multiple times.

Bottom line, you were a hiccup a few months ago, and I will not be making the same mistake twice. 

 
Jack chuckles to himself.

Jack: At the end of the day Pete, I made you back then, and now I’m going to give you just a little more of a brush of my greatness, and then I will break you. You will understand, that I AM THE MAN around here. There is NOBODY that can do what I do. Nobody can TOUCH me. You, Peter Vaughn, will end up like every other person who doubted me, and those who continue to doubt me, humbled and whether you want to or not, you will accept the truth. I am the face of this franchise.

Continue to doubt me all you want, SCW. All it does is fuel me. It just makes me want to rub it in your faces more and more. So mark this little champions match on your calendars. Because I’m going to ask you to remember this day. Remember when you tried to make this guy again, and you failed. Because he will fail. And at the end of it all, you will have no choice, but acknowledge my greatness, and give me the respect I have earned. 

You don’t have to like it, but you, along with Peter Vaughn, will learn to accept it.

 

Jack stares into the camera as we fade to black.

 

Click.

 

Prologue: 

Jack may be as surprised as anyone else that he and Bobbie Dahl worked together so well as a team, and they managed to win their first round Blast from the Past tournament match, and in the process, Jack picked up his second Internet championship after pinning Alexander Raven, though his efforts wouldn’t have been enough and Bobbie was significant reason they were victorious. Jack of course would never actually admit this out loud, but he knew that Bobbie was a tag partner that he needed to trust, and this first test in Jack’s eyes was a rousing success. Of course, Jack didn’t want really anything to do with Bobbie outside of the bell to start their match, and the bell to finish their match. 

What Jack actually noticed about their relationship, if you could call it that, was that it felt more like mutual benefit than anything else. Jack wasn’t above helping people, his problem was always that he was forced to rely on them, and they always let him down. But maybe, just maybe Bobbie was going to be different? Jack obviously wasn’t a fan of the odds knowing his track record, but the results thus far, were positive.

 

 

--

Kelwana, British Columbia, Canada

Two Weeks Ago

 

 

Jack burst backstage after winning the Internet title and looked at it approvingly. He was very pleased with himself and having won the title. He was actually grinning and didn’t notice Bobbie Dahl was standing behind him.

 

Jack: That’s right. Champ baby!

 

Jack was showing off to anyone who was within earshot, however, he was then given a playful slap on the shoulder from Bobbie. He turned, saw that it was Bobbie and his smile disappeared.

 

Bobbie: Congratulations. I think we made a pretty good team out there.

 

Jack: Whoa, team?

 

Bobbie: Uh yeah, we even got a victory celebration and everything.

 

Jack: I did not need you to pick me up.

 

Bobbie: Okay, next time you can pick me up.

 

Jack: That’s not what I -

 

Bobbie: We can talk about the choreography and everything on the road.

 

Jack: Excuse me?

 

Bobbie: You know, travel together. Like a team. I’ve got some interesting ideas.

 

Jack: We are NOT traveling together.

 

Bobbie: Sure, we are! Like a true team! We just went out there and won. It was great! We can even have a team name. I’m just spit-balling here but “Team JackBob!” 

 

Jack: JackBob? That’s not even a word. It doesn’t go together.

 

Bobbie: Like I said... Spitballing! We can discuss this on the trip to Scotland. Which... by the way... what do you think about kilts? You shave your legs or...

 

Jack: ENOUGH! We are not...

 

Bobbie: We ARE a team. We just won.

 

Jack: No, I won. You just happened to be there.

 

Bobbie was frustrated by Jack’s immediate dismissal of her efforts.

 

Bobbie: You’ve gotta be kidding me! We won because we worked together!

 

Jack: No, I don’t think you understand. I won. I am the Internet champion. You didn’t win anything.

 

Bobbie: I WON THE MATCH! WITH YOU!

 

Jack recoils from Bobbie shouting at him. He put his hands up and tried to calm Bobbie down.

 

Jack: Alright, alright, relax. You didn’t screw it up.

 

Bobbie rolls her eyes and gives another frustrated sigh.

 

Bobbie: Is this all you wanted out this? You have a title and now you don’t care?

 

Jack: To be fair, I never really cared for this team in the first place.

 

Bobbie: That’s not the point! You know damn well it was teamwork that got us that win. The least you can do is acknowledge that!

 

Jack sighs.

 

Jack: Okay, fine. WE won the match. Are you happy now?

 

Bobbie: No. Look I get it, okay? You don’t like anybody, you don’t trust anybody. You’ve made the perfectly clear like 100 times. You don’t have to like me. But dammit, I’m trying to build at least a little rapport here! I’m trying to do the thing that you want me to do!

 

Jack: No, you’re not. You’re trying to be my friend or whatever. If you really wanted to do what I wanted you to do, you would have simply come up, congratulated me, and then gone off to do whatever it is you do in your spare time, and then ready yourself for the next match we’re gonna have. And then you show up, focused and ready to go. 

 

Bobbie: You really don’t get it, do you? I’m TRYING. You don’t understand, at all.

 

Jack: I don’t really want to.

 

Bobbie: Some of us don’t have all the advantages you do. Some of us don’t WORK the way that you think we should. I’m not a robot! I’m a human, and I need some interactions! And you need to respect that! You need to respect ME! You think I LIKE all the things people say about me?! You think I’m just gonna accept it? NO! I’m TRYING! 

 

Jack takes a breath and again holds his hands up.

 

Jack: Alright, I get it. Look... uh... good job out there. Okay, is that good?

 

Bobbie: It’s a start. Why are you like this?

 

Jack turns away, and puts the title on his shoulder.

 

Jack: Because I have to be. Been burned too many times, and people I actually care about have been hurt because of it. So yeah, I play this shit close to the vest. And I’m not going to allow people in. Because that’s the point that they find the best place to stab you in the back.

 

Bobbie: You think I’M going to stab you in the back? Why would I stab you in the back? 

 

Jack: Not... you in particular. You’re just with everybody else.

 

Bobbie: I can promise you now, I’m not going to stab you in the back. I want to win this as much as you do. I'm sick and tired of people making fun of me. I’m sick of being called a loser. I’m sick of all that! 

 

Jack turns his head to glance at Bobbie.

 

Jack: Then you need to stop doing stuff like this and toughen up.

 

Bobbie: I did that. And I could be a cold cynic like you. But you know what that got me? Nothing. I can’t do that. I won’t do that. And if that makes me a loser, then I guess I’m a loser. You can be just like everybody else and think that.

 

Jack: … 

 

Bobbie: Go ahead. Say it so that we can just get it out of the way and whomever we wrestle next time out can just pick up the pieces. 

 

Jack: … You’re not a loser. You have a loser’s mentality. I’m just... I don’t know why... but I’m trying to fix that.

 

Bobbie: And you’re doing a terrible job. You don’t have to like me, but at least... at least... respect me as a person, and as... your partner. Even if it’s just for a couple more weeks.

 

Jack: … As a person, I respect you. Partner? You held your own. I respect that.

 

Bobbie: Thank you.

 

Jack: Don’t let that go to your head.

 

Bobbie: … Yeah, I won’t.

 

Jack: Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go celebrate.

 

Jack begins to walk away

 

Bobbie: Hey uh.... good talk?

 

Jack: Yeah...

--

Glasgow Airport

Glasgow, Scotland

 

Jack arrived without Bobbie this time. He actually got peace and quiet on the flights from Vegas to New York, and then the long 16 hours to Glasgow. Jack actually wasn’t recognized and didn’t bother to make himself known as he simply exited the plane, walked through the airport and collected his luggage, before heading to the rental car area. He walked up after a small wait in line he marched up to the counter.

 

Jack: I’m with Sin City Wrestling. There should be an SUV for me.

 

Receptionist: Name?

 

Jack: Jack Washington.

 

The Receptionist stops, and looks at a few things on her screen before smiling.

 

Receptionist: Aye! Mrs. Washington already picked it up and she’s waiting for you.

 

Jack: Mrs. Washington? There must be some mistake. I’m...

 

From behind Jack. Bobbie slaps him on the shoulder. She has a huge grin on her face.

 

Bobbie: Jackie!

 

Jack: …

 

Bobbie: Oh, sorry, I got us the ride already, it’s cool!

 

Jack sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. You would think he was 10 the way he was acting.

Jack: Why?

 

Bobbie: We’re PARTNERS. Come on. 

 

Jack: I can get my own car...

 

Bobbie: No worries, I got you.

 

Jack: I...

 

Jack didn’t want to make a scene, but he was pretty close to doing it anyway. He begrudgingly picked up his bag and followed Bobbie. Once they got to the car, Jack stopped.

 

Jack: WHAT THE HELL, BOBBIE!

 

Bobbie: What? Partners remember?

 

Jack: No! This is not part of the deal! We do not need to travel together! I can get my own car! And you told them you were my WIFE?!

 

Bobbie: We got a better car because of it! 

 

Jack: Why are you doing this to me?

 

Bobbie: Because you need it. This is going to be so cool. We need to get you in the kilt, and then we can visit the spooky lighthouse! It’s a road trip!

 

Jack: NO! OH MY GOD, NO! What is wrong with you? 

 

Bobbie: I thought... we were making progress?

 

Jack: Don’t. Don’t pull that right now. I had a long flight, I just want to go to the hotel, and sleep. I am not in the mood for these stupid things! You steal my car reservation, you tell people you’re my wife, and you want to visit some stupid lighthouse?! And you expect me to just roll with that?

 

Bobbie: I’m TRYING!

 

Jack: I can’t. I just can’t.

 

Jack picks up his bag and just starts walking. It really didn’t occur to him that he was just in a completely different country with no way around or knowing of which was he was going to be going, but he knew he had to get away from Bobbie. He simply started walking and exited the airport grounds and just started going. After a few minutes, Bobbie was pulling up beside him, slowly and waving to get his attention.

 

Bobbie: Don’t be like that... please?

 

Jack tried to ignore her and kept walking, not wanting to continue this.

 

Bobbie: I’m sorry. Okay! I was just trying to make this work! Please, just... come on, please get in the car. Look, I’ll drive you to the hotel and that’ll be it. I promise. 

 

Jack finally stopped, and Bobbie eagerly pulled over to the side of the road to let Jack in. Jack was still fuming, but relented and entered the SUV.

 

Bobbie: I was just trying to do something nice. I admit I went overboard. I was trying to be spontaneous. Help build our bond.

 

Jack: By stealing my reservation?!

 

Bobbie: I know. It’s overboard. I’m sorry. 

 

Jack: Just... just drive.

 

Bobbie and Jack drove to the hotel where the SCW wrestlers were staying and Jack checked in, along with Bobbie. 

 

Jack: I swear if you got us the same room...

 

Bobbie: No! Of course not! I can respect your privacy. I’ve got things to occupy myself with.

 

Jack: I didn’t need to know that.

 

Bobbie: NOT LIKE THAT!

 

Jack: Could we?

 

Bobbie: Yeah, sorry. Can I... Can I ask a favor?

 

Jack stopped and glared at Bobbie. He was in no mood for this, struggling to contain his rage.

 

Jack: WHAT? What could you possibly do to ruin this whole trip even further?

 

Bobbie: I just... I wanted to know if I could get you to just sit and we can talk strategy again. These are different opponents and stuff so, I just... I know I screwed things up, but I just want to get back on track. 

 

Jack: If this is something stupid...

 

Bobbie: No, not at all. I promise. Straight up.

 

Jack eyed Bobbie suspiciously as he would normally. He shook his head, clearly done for the day with all the nonsense.

 

Jack: Fine. 

 

Bobbie: Great. I’ll see you tomorrow then? I’ll call you.

 

Jack: Whatever.

 

--

 

Click.

 Jack is proudly showing off the SCW Internet title over his shoulder, and the cocky grin smeared all over his face. He let’s out a satisfied laugh as he begins.

 
Jack: Well, well well. Would you look at that. I told Alexander not to tempt fate. I warned him what was going to happen if he lost. And low and behold, he did. Damn, I hate to say I told you so, but... ah, who the hell am I kidding, I LOVE to say I told you so! I told you Alex, that if you tried for this dumbass crusade of “trying to get a win back” it would blow up in your face, and guess what? It DID! I hope you feel really stupid, or as stupid as you look right now, both literally and figuratively. All the bluster, all that talk, and you failed. And now, I AM THE INTERNET CHAMPION AGAIN! How does it feel, Alexander? How does it feel to be a complete failure? I told you I was going to rub this in your face, and I have to say, it feels really, really good to be doing it right now! You should have never pissed me off, and now, and forever, you will have to live with the fact that for all that, you walk away eliminated, and now, empty handed.

And to be fair, I wasn’t even trying to win this damn title. I already proved I was the best Internet champion in YEARS. I had no desire to win it again, because it proves nothing. but you know what, I’ll take it, and make it even better than you ever could. This title right here, is as far as you will EVER go, and that’s just a fact of life. You now have nothing you can do, but deal with it. Get used to this level of disappointment, Alexander, it’s going to be this way for a long, long time.

 
Jack buffs the belt with the side of his hand, and is very pleased with himself. His demeanor changes slightly as he continues.

 
Jack: Now, let me move on, because Alexander is in my rearview mirror. Let me move on to this week. Actually, no. I need to say something to... Bobbie Dahl.

Look Bobbie, you... you didn’t screw it up, and you held you own. That was a good first step. But the fact remains I don’t want to listen to you babble and ramble on about nonsense like you’ve been doing. Let’s get this straight: We are NOT friends. We’re not allies, accomplices, acquaintances, pen pals, none of that. We are simply partners based on a random draw. Nothing else. The deal is real simple, you hold up your end, and I will lead us to victory, just like I did two weeks ago. It’s not that hard. Look, you got this Laura Phoenix chick. I don’t care what you say about her or whatever. You know what you have to do. You know that another win puts us in the semi-finals. 

I get what you said to me. Not everyone can function like I choose to. So, we will have a level of understanding and I am okay with that. But again, this is a partnership out of chance. This is a chance for both of us to get better.

And for the record... based on what you’ve accomplished, you aren’t a loser. That’s about as nice as I can put it at this point, and don’t let that go to your head. You didn’t let me down this week, but I’ve been here in this very spot before, and then round 2 comes and bam, my partner fails me. It’s happened twice already. Just focus on what all these naysayers are gonna think. And while they are going to be correct that I carried you to the round one victory, that doesn’t mean you can’t come through and pull your weight. This is a golden opportunity for you. Based on how it looks, this Laura Phoenix chick sucks, and you can take her. You know what you have to do. Just don’t let me down, and don’t let yourself down.

 
Jack nods, believing his semi pep talk to be sufficient.

 
Jack: Now, onto the main course of this week. It’s you and me again, Cowboy. We gotta stop meeting like this, although that would mean we don’t meet ever, which would be fine by me, because quite frankly, I’m tired you. When this match was made, I was about to ask, why the hell MY championship is on the line, when you entered this stupid tournament as the champion and YOUR title should be on the line. 

But then, I remembered that you don’t even have a title anymore, Cowboy.

That’s right, you lost your title and some old asshat has it. You got nothing, and let’s not get any stupid ideas in that thick heads of your that you’re somehow going to win this title from me on Sunday. If you’re thinking about that, you better start thinking about baseball or some shit. You are NOT about to take this championship from me simply because you, much like Alexander, are hell bent on finally getting one over on me.

Oh sure, you won the fatal four-way, and you won the world title, and I’m sure you felt really good about it. But you’ve already noted that you can’t beat me. I mean, if you REALLY want to count that four-way match as you beating me, you can. But you know deep down in your heart that you didn’t pin me, you didn’t make me submit, you pinned some other asshole who didn’t belong in the match in the first place. You got that tainted victory, and now, you have another chance, Cowboy. You can make things right.

But then again, you’ve almost resigned yourself to the fact that you may not ever be able to beat me. That little piece of doubt is all I need, Cowboy. Because it tells me what I need to know. I’m in your head. I know now when you saw that this match was the match that was going to happen, you groaned, didn’t you? Oh yeah, you said to yourself, “well shit” or “Great horny-toades" or whatever you Cowboy’s say. Because you knew then, and you know now, that I’m going to beat you yet again. I’m gonna advance in this tournament, and really, right now, maybe you’re thanking your lucky stars that you’re NOT the world champion, because...well shit, Cowboy... you’d be about to lose that title to me. 

 
Jack smirks at this comment.
 

Jack: Oh my god, would that have been hilarious. I would have beaten the two top champions in the company back-to-back matches. Oh, that would have really pissed people off! But sadly, you don’t have the title anymore. So, you can take a deep breath, you can just relax and enjoy this next loss to me and just add it to the mental checklist you’ve made when it comes to wrestling me.

But you know, part of me actually respects the fact that you are aware that you may not be able to beat me in the ring one on one. And I get it, this match technically isn’t one on one. So, you know even if by some miracle you managed to win, it still wouldn’t be in a one-on-one situation. But I know you want this win badly. You want to get back to having yet another championship match when you clearly don’t deserve it anyway, but winning this tournament would be something for you. And I know you’d feel like you got that monkey off your back if you managed to win against me while doing it. That’s the real prize isn’t it, Cowboy? That’s what you’re really after in this whole thing. Because you really need to prove it to yourself more than anything.

Raven did the same thing two weeks ago, my guy, and you run a mighty risk of failing yet again, much like he did. Are you really sure it’s worth it to put it all on the line like that? Am I under your skin that much? Do you want to punch me in my face and shut me up for good? Does it mean that much to you? I know you’re going to play it cool, but you’ve already let too much slip. You’ve already shown how much I am in your head. 

So what’s it going to be like for you to lose to me again?

Again, lucky for you, you’re not the world champion, because I already made history in this tournament, and you know deep down I would have made more at your expense. I would have taken that title from you. And you know, I could have stopped right there. Because that’s what this is about for me. I don’t need to beat you, I’ve been there and done that. I’ve done it, and still you get called great. Yeah, that one pissed me off. But at the end of the day Cowboy, I’ve moved on because I am better than you. You know it and I know it. It’s not like it’s rocket surgery or even brain science. But how are you going to deal with it, is not the most intriguing thing.

Like, are you going to brush it off? I know that you’ll want to. You’ll want to give me the stone face and act like it didn’t happen or that if doesn’t really bother you. But I know it does. You know it does. This one isn’t count to techincally count on the scoreboard, and really, you should be thankful we’re not keeping score, because this would turn into a blowout real quick. 

But maybe, you’re thinking you can save face and maybe earn an ounce of momentum, because you think you’re going to take this title from me. Let’s just stop playing pretend Cowboy. Let’s stop with this. You’re not going to beat me, and you’re not going to win this match period. This is where the tournament ENDS for you. This is where I beat you again and I move on and you get left in the dust. You are left to pick up the pieces once again. I can’t wait to see that happen again.

 
Jack rubs his hands together ready to wrap this up.

Jack: But hey, don’t worry Cowboy, I’m sure you’ll just get some random rematch and they will continue to think you are the greatest thing since sliced bread yet again. That’s how this seems to work around here. You were just given the title that I earned, and continue to earn each and every time I’m out in that ring. All this match really is, is more of me proving that fact. It’s more ammo for me when I say that I am everything I say I am. 

 
You are just more proof. That’s just it my guy. Nothing more. Me and my... my partner, we’re going on to the semi-finals. And then to the finals. It started with taking this championship from Alexander Raven, it will continue with beating you, and then whoever else stands in the way. 

 
And as far as Laura Phoenix goes? Meh. I don’t have to worry about her, Bobbie will take care of her. That’s right, I’m prediciting it here and now. 

 
Maybe there’s something to this whole trust thing. Maybe.

 
Whatever. Look, Cowboy, I’m going to beat your ass and you know it. Just get all the excuses you can ready for when it happens. I will once again prove to you, and everyone else, I am the FACE of this franchise.

See you in the semi's.

 

Jack looks back down at the Internet title as we fade to black.

 
Click.

 

Prologue:

Jack was of course unsuccessful in regaining the SCW World heavyweight championship in the fatal four-way match, despite being extremely confident he would. Jack had explained his position over and over again and it may have been the main reason he lost. He simply believed this would be a walk in the park and it clearly wasn’t. Now Jack is looking at an even longer road ahead of him if he ever hopes to gain an SCW World title match again, and also recently like the rest of the viewing audience, saw the reformation of the Saviors with Mac Bane and Ken Davison. Jack may not actually care about that too much, but he has to take notice that it is going to be a problem for him. 

Jack was left off of SCW TV for the past couple of weeks, and now returns against the recently returned Calvin Harris, in a match two former world champions, and seeming clash of generations. Jack has been pretty quiet about recent developments, but that’s never stopped him from venting his frustrations before. 

 

Outside the ring, Jack’s family drama seems to finally be settling down as he looks to continue to run the casino with his brother, and uncle, and seemingly has found out through some therapy about himself and why he’s just so angry about everything. Only time will tell if this will help, or hinder Jack in the future, but for now, it appears that there are some calm seas for him. He purchased a junker car for his uncle Brian to restore, as this is something Brian always wanted to do. 

Of course, with how volatile and unstable his brother can be, and in turn how he can make Jack just as volatile and unstable as he is at times. It always feels like when there is a calm, it’s usually right before a storm.

 

--

Washington Estate

Las Vegas, NV

 

Jack sat stewing in his anger. He was in a rage over not becoming the SCW world champion, and it seemed like the smallest thing could send him over the edge. For what seemed like forever, he just sat there. He drank heavily. He had to do something, anything to kill both the pain and boredom he felt over having to sit at home. He barely moved, except to pour out the whiskey for himself, and then down it as quickly as possible. The burning of the Jack Daniels only served to fuel and stoke the firey rage inside of him.

 

Brian had entered the house, going from the garage into the house to wash his hands as he continued to work on the car Jack had bought for him. But he even felt the unnaturally cold vibe in the room as Jack stared straight ahead, sometimes with the TV on, and other times with nothing on the screen. Brian walked over and nudged Jack’s arm with his hip.

 

Brian: What’s the matter with you?

 

Jack of course didn’t answer. He barely reacted to the nudge with nothing but a quick glance and an icy stare back at Brian for a few seconds, before returning his gaze to nothing in particular.

 

Brian: You gonna sit there and feel sorry for yourself this whole time now? You can’t just sit there forever.

 

Jack again didn’t bother to respond or acknowledge Brian’s words or voice in any way.

 

Brian: Or I guess you can. But, you ain’t gonna accomplish anything doing it. 

 

Jack again didn’t even budge. After a long and uncomfortable silence, he poured another glass of whiskey and began to drink it. Brian was waiting for some kind of reaction from Jack, but wasn’t getting anything. Believing he had tried, Brian simply shrugged and finishes drying his hands.

 

Brian: Well, I’ll be in the garage. Holler if you need anything.

 

Jack gave him all of nothing. Brian shook his head, threw away the paper towels and went back into the garage, leaving Jack to his own devices again. He sat in the deafening silence and just stewed. It was like this for a long time before Jason finally came in the door, having taken his day at the Casino. He walked in pretty much not seeing Jack except a quick glance. Jason shot a hand up to acknowledge Jack.

 

Jason: ‘Sup, bro?

 

Jason wasn’t look and assumed Jack had made a move, but he clearly hadn’t. Jack poured himself a glass of water and grabbed a bag of chips and sat down on the couch next to Jack, who was in his recliner. Jason wasn’t really paying attention to Jack’s face, and he loudly opened the bag of chips.

 

Jason: Man, I gotta say, running that Casino has been really fun. You know, I think we’re really doing well. I think pretty soon we’ll be one of the top money-earners in the whole state. It was pretty genuis of you to take the Casino and make it off the strip. 

 

Jack again said nothing. He didn’t acknowledge Jason, until Jason began eating the chips. The loud crunching seemed to make Jack twitch.

 

Jason: But I did notice there’s some people who keep coming around. They never gamble, I think they’re scoping the place out. You ever see them?

 

Jason’s loud crunch finally pushed the final button and Jack leapt up from his chair.

 

Jack: GOD DAMN IT!

 

Jack screamed at the top of his lungs, he was seething and Jason really didn’t even acknowledge that. He looked at Jack, and then eat another chip.

 

Jason: You good, Bro?

 

Jack: NO! NO I’M NOT FUCKING GOOD!

 

Jason stood up, touching Jack’s shoulder to at least start to calm him down. 

 

Jason: I get it bro, I do. Sometimes you just gotta let it out, you know? Vent.

 

Jack: This is A BUNCH OF BULLSHIT! I HAD THAT FUCKING MATCH. IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN MINE!

 

Jason: Okay, dude, save your voice. You don’t need to yell that loudly.

 

Jack: Shut up. You weren’t there. You did have to deal with that bullshit! You didn’t have to have people know you’re telling them the truth, and not even acknowledge it. To know, that you’re so god damn right about everything, and they keep turning a blind eye.

 

Jason: Truth hurts, man. Some people can’t handle it.

 

Jack: I don’t... I don’t get it. I did what I was supposed to do. I earned the match, and then... they stick two other assholes in the match and then one of them is working with the champion and neither of the other two did a fucking thing to be in the match and it’s like... there ya go. It was basically a 3 on 1 thing man.

 

Jason: It’s tough, I get it.

 

Jack: No, you don’t. You don’t get it. There is a massive fucking plan to prevent me from being everything I say I am. They want to make me look like a liar, Jay. They want to make me out to be a liar. I ain’t a liar man! I’ve said what I’ve said. You know? Am I an asshole?

 

Jason: Sometimes, yeah.

 

Jack: Shut up, that was rhetorical. I KNOW I’m an asshole. I’m had to do some dirty shit to get where I I needed to be, but I ain’t ever lied to ya’ll. And this is how they treat me. They give me that shit match and then they leave me to rot at the house man. It ain’t fair. It ain’t FUCKING fair.

 

Jason: Bro, trust me, I know how you feel. I dealt with that shit all the time in the Army. You have a good thing going, you get exactly where you need to be, and then somebody comes along and they fuck it up because of stupid reasons. Or some officer comes in and changes the way you do things just because he or she doesn’t like it. I get it man, it’s fucked up.

 

Jack for the first time actually seems to be listening to Jason words instead of just hearing his voice and just ranting. 

 

Jack: Yeah, yeah, exactly. They’re trying to do some shit to get rid of me. GOD DAMN IT. I CANT LET THEM DO THAT! THIS SHIT IS TOO MUCH! I GOTTA DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS! 

 

Jason: Bro, it’s cool, you don’t really need to get drastic.

 

Jack: YES I FUCKING DO! I NEED TO. I WILL SHOW THEM! OH YOU BET YOUR ASS I WILL SHOW THEM! THOSE MOTHER FUCKERS!

 

Jack breaks away from Jason and get out onto his balcony and screams at the top of his lungs. It goes for what seems like a fully minute, before Jack comes back inside and Jason pats him on the shoulder.

 

Jason: Feel better?

 

Jack: Yeah... actually. I really do.

 

Jack seems to be back to normal now. 

 

Jason: Yeah, sometimes you just gotta vent. Can’t keep it all pent up, you know?

 

Jason eats another chip, the crunch makes Jack wince. 

 

Jack: Yeah... Yeah you do. 

 

Jack turns to leave, and not be near Jason eating chips, but stops. He turns back to Jason, holding up a finger.

 

Jack: Wait... who did you say is at the Casino?

 

--

Grand Flamingo Casino

Las Vegas, NV.

 

Jack is in the managers office, Jason and Brian along side him as two other men we’ve never seen before are sitting at the table on the opposite end.

 

Jack: Okay gentlemen, I have seen you in my casino quite a few times, and you’re not gambling. While I appreciate the eyes on my business, I also don’t appreciate the eyes on my business. If you are my customer, that’s one thing, but since you clearly aren’t here to spend your money. There’s another reason you’re here. So... with all due respect...Who are you, and what do you want?

 

The younger man stands up, clearing his throat and adjusting his suit jacket.

 

Man – My name is Michael Montgomery, and this is my association, Robert Wall.

 

Robert tips his hat.

 

Michael: We’re here as... well let’s just to the chase, we’re here to try and negotiate with you. 

 

Jack: Negoiate what?

 

Michael: A potential, buyout.

 

Jack turns to Brian, trying to seemingly hold in laughter.

 

Jack: A buyout?

 

Michael: Yes, that’s what it would be technically, but really, it’s more of a... partnership. 

 

Jack: Boy, that seems like a bit of a walk back.

 

Michael: We have looked over the casino and we feel it’s a solid investment. We have some wealthy investors looking to break into the casino business and this is one that has seemingly popped up and done well. But it’s not worth what it could be worth. 

 

Jack: Are you saying we’re doing a bad job?

 

Michael: No, far from it, in fact. We think that has been a great turnaround you’ve given this area. That’s why we want to invest. 

 

Robert: You would be very handsomely rewarded for this.

 

Jack: I know you think I’m a dumb wrestler, but I know the difference, between investing and buying something like this. Plus, I have money. This isn’t about money. I have money. I make money, I can practically fucking PRINT money. So it’s not appealing to me.

 

Michael: And we understand that. This is why we’re having this conversation. 

 

Jason stood up, having finally heard enough.

 

Jason: Fuck these dudes. The casino isn’t for sale. That’s just what it is. Take it and go back to whoever it is you work for, because he didn’t have the balls to come here himself, and you tell him that. The Grand Flamingo is off the ground because of the Washington family, and it’s gonna stay that way!

 

Michael: We do have some things we’d like you to consider!

 

Jack: No, you don’t. We’re done here.

 

Jack pushes a button on the table intercom.

 

Jack: Ed...see these gentlemen out.

 

Ed, the bodyguard enters with his team and Michael and Robert stand up clutching their belongings.

 

Jack: This is OUR casino. If we see you come back here, and you aren’t sticking quarters in slot machines, it’ll be the last place you ever enter. Now, Ed here will show you both the door. Or the floor, or both if you’re not careful.

 

Ed ushers the men out and Jason shakes his head, Brian nodding along and Jack in thought.

 

Jack: People just seem to want to get rid of us... They want us to go away. I guess we have to show everybody we’re here for the long haul.

 

--

 



 

Click.

 

Wearing his usual scowl, Jack paces back and forth in his home. There’s a ton of pep in his step, even though he isn’t going anywhere. If looks could kill, the camera would be a pile of ooze at the moment. Jack looks like a ticking time bomb, ready to explode.

 

Jack: It’s almost like they want people to know this is some kind of game. You know, I go out of my way to do things the way they are supposed to be done, and then what happens? Oh, you earned your title match, but we’re gonna make it a fatal four-way just because we think it works. I should have been in the ring with Ken Davison, one and one, beat his ass, and won the World title for a 3rd time. Period.

 There’s no “yeah but” in that. What did Matt Knox do to be in that match? Nothing. What did Mac Bane do to be in that match? Nothing. I won matches. Including, against Mac Bane, might I add.  But no, just make this random match and act like I should be counting my lucky stars. It’s a big bunch of bullshit and everybody knows it.

Then we get to the damn fatal four-way and some more bullshit happens and Mac Bane flukes his way to another win. It’s like...no, let’s just tell everyone how great he is because we keep giving him chance after chance and sooner or later, the sun shines on his ass and he gets somewhere. I wish I had that. I wish I got these types of chances. 

Inception was the first time I got a World title match since I won it from Kris Ryans in 2021. I have been starved, because apparently, this company is against making money and treating their franchise player like he’s a franchise player.

And then, to top it off, it’s always awfully convenient that after these big shows and after I get the crumbs and the scraps tossed to me, that they try to forget about me. I mean, there’s matches already made for the next big show. And I... just this week, am seeing action for the first time. Oh no, let’s not put Jack on these shows. Let him sit at home, maybe he’ll leave us alone. 

But what they are REALLY after is me coming to the show and complaining. Right? That’s the big thing now. Jack Washington is a complainer, he’s a whiner. The truth of the matter is I point out everything that is wrong and unjust. All of them want to drone on and one about how you have to earn this, and earn that, when it’s bunch of bullshit. I beat the guys in front of me, and I barely got thrown a bone. Mac Bane does nothing and gets rewarded. Matt Knox does EVEN LESS and he gets rewarded. You tell me, is it fair? Was it earned? NO. FUCKING NO. 

And then, Inception happens, and the guy who wasn’t pinned, that would be me, gets left for dead, and Mac Bane and Ken Davison just get all these luxury matches and win despite their best efforts and get treated like they’re special, when I have PROVED, time and time again, they are not. They reformed the saviors, a group so forgettable they reformed and still nobody cares. Obviously, it just proved Ken Davison is a fluke champion, and Mac Bane can’t get shit done on his own. 

And what do I get? A big pile of shit. Here you go, Jack, we’ll put you in action against this Calvin Harris person and you have to start at the bottom. You have to earn it. Nobody else around here does, because we decide on a whim that people should get championship matches. But not you. You have to earn them. It’s complete bullshit and they just want to turn a deaf ear and a blind eye to it.

 
Jack is clearly not happy, only stopping a moment to take a breath. It seemed like all of this was coming out today.


Jack: By the way, I’m STILL not listed on the roster page. You have fucking Todd Williams on the roster, but not me. You see this shit? I just want everybody to see this shit. Understand that unless the shit actually impacts me, I don’t really give a shit about it. I don’t have to run onto social media and demand title shots after every big show. I don’t give a shit about the Internet or Roulette divisions. I’m above that, and I already fucking proved that too. 

No, I’m pointing out everything WRONG with this shit. You know why? Because it needs to be said. You can say I’m whining, but you know what? That’s because those saying that, are either A) Getting the special treatment, or B) Too chicken shit to say something. They all go to their low-end jobs and complain about them. Overworked and underpaid right? But yet you people LET people walk all over you, because you’re too scared to lose those jobs. I’m not afraid to say what needs to be said, and I don’t care who I piss off, or whose toes I step on. 

I say the shit that needs to be said. I tell the truth. That’s why they say I’m whining, because it’s the only defense they have, because they can’t call me a liar. Those are the facts of the situation.


Jack twitches his neck, the pacing having continued this entire time.

 
Jack: Now, Calvin Harris, right? I mean, I suppose beating you won’t do shit for me anyway. So, why do I have to bother with this? What does beating you get me? WIll it finally get my name on the roster page? Probably not. Am I going to be a world title match? No, of course not. We’ll go to the well of, well, you already had a title shot, we need new blood and all that happy horseshit. Meanwhile Mac Bane just gets chance after chance. Oh, episode 375 of Climax Control? Why not have uh... Mac Bane defend against... I don’t know, Senior Vinnie, just fucking because. 

You know, it’s rude of me to disregard you Calvin, making your triumphant return or whatever like you’re Jesus coming out of the cave. The fact is, I don’t really give two shits about you, or what you accomplished a decade ago. You got your roses then, didn’t you? Weren’t people singing your praises and calling you great then? Is that how it went? I don’t really care, I just trying to make some conversation here. In fact, no, I don’t really care about making conversation anymore. 

The thing is, you’ve already had your day. You had your time 5 years ago. And it is yet again more and more people just keep filing back in like this is some kind of country club, and people like you don’t get out of the fucking way and stay out the way. Just move on. Why come back? Why do you want to embarrass yourself at this point? You think anybody is impressed you beat Austin Mercer? Been there, done that, Slapped him down a number of times. And I will do the same to you. 

I know you really may just think that you still got it or whatever the old timer phrase is, 40 is the new 20 and all that, but the reality of this situation is you are out of your league now. Hell, considering everything, you were out of your league then. One random ass Battle Royal win doesn’t mean a damn thing to me. And it seems that it was light a shooting star. Here one moment, gone the next. You had yourself a little 4 month reign and then... nothing. 

I would think that had had your fill of the spotlight since you reached the top despite yourself, but here you are now, attempting to one again step back in. And I just so tired of this shit at this point.

 

Jack is still fuming, and still pacing. If this was on dirt, he would have dug a trench without a shovel.

 

Jack: You’re just like everybody else that keeps coming back. You refuse to get out of the way for the future, for the better. You keep coming back over and over. The fact is you are interrupting what is supposed to be my moments. I am the face of this franchise and they just don’t want to admit it. They want to bring people like you back all the time and hope that they people will just accept it. Everybody comes back, we’re a family in SCW, all that shit. They just don’t want to admit that I have told the truth, I have backed up everything I have said, and I have been wronged time and time again and been told to basically kick rocks for being in the right. And you get to benefit from it.

I always thought that when the generations change, the old one is supposed to pave the way for the new one. But I guess, there’s just a lot of resistance to me at this point. People like you keep getting the carpet rolled out for them and the brass still wants them to be seen at the shiny new toys, when it’s clear they’ve lost their luster.

So, I’m going to make this real simple for you, Calvin Harris. At Climax Control, I’m going to beat the holy hell out of you, and I will show you just how much this game has passed you by. Now, of course, you don’t really need to worry, I’ve beaten old timers a few times around here and they just keep coming back and getting rewarded for failure. So I don’t have any doubt in my mind that when you take this loss, it won’t really matter in the long run. 

But you can also take a little bit of solace in the fact that I am the best in this company, despite everybody’s attempts to hold me back. You are simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, Calvin Harris. You’ve caught me at the time where I’m just pissed off. And while I would say it would be wise for you to just take this ass whoppin’ like a man and move forward, but as turns out, the one little thing I check on social media has to do with you.

 

Jack seems especially annoyed by the tweet, and by the sentiment behind it.

 

Jack: You post about how your little punk ass kid is drawing pictures of me. I’m not sure why you thought it was important to share that, but you did. Now, maybe your kid is smarter than you, because he’s drawing pictures of me, and not you. Maybe your kid is really just trying to tell you that he’s got a new favorite wrestler and you’ve been replaced. Maybe you should just take that subtle hint and accept the reality.

Or, maybe your kid is just trying to give you some false hope. I don’t know. He’d be as dumb as you if he actually thought you had a chance in hell this week anyway. But now, it’s just motivation for me. I’m already pissed off as it is, and now I have this little piece to work even further on. 

You know, I’m actually starting to think this whole thing just needs a little more push. It just needs to be put over the top, and then, then people will actually understand where I’m coming from. Maybe then people will actually know that I mean what I say and I say what I mean. Maybe I don’t need to just beat you, Calvin Harris. Maybe that’s not good enough anymore. 

Maybe, I need to not just beat you, but I need to hurt you. I need to put you on the shelf. I need to maybe end your career or something. Maybe I need to send you home to be a family man permanently. I don’t know, I haven’t decided yet if that’s all I want to do, but the fact is, I’m getting really sick and tired of being ignored around here, especially when I’m speaking the truth.

So, would you guys just enjoy it if I just broke Calvin Harris? Would THAT get me on the roster? Would THAT get me a random title match? I’m just asking at this point, because I feel like it’s the next step in this whole process. I’m going to have to do something to get myself noticed. I mean, I’ve already beaten everybody. I’ve already shown how much better I am at talking than everybody else. What the fuck else do I need to do?

Beat Calvin Harris? Sure. Hurt Calvin Harris? I just might. I guess we’ll see.

Fade on Jack's face turning to a very unsettling grin.

Click

Prologue:

It has been some time since Jack was around. Last time he did emerge victorious over Alexander Raven, but since then, it has been a wave of silence from Jack, and he has taken the opportunity and ran with it. Taking what he felt was a much needed and deserved vacation, despite being on a cruise only a couple of months ago. Jack has been taking it easy and living the good life as he seemed to have made amends with his brother and family, and this time away has seemingly brought the family together.

 

The question now comes up with Jack headed back to the ring, will the family bond still be as strong as it was during this break? Or will all the work done by Jack and family to come together be erased with Jack’s return to the ring?

 

--

Lake Mead National Recreation Area

Boulder City, NV

24 mi East of Las Vegas

Two weeks ago.

 

It was rare that the family got together like this. In all actuality, Jack never thought there would be a moment like this. Just thinking about his own life and how everyone was separated, and how he was the one exiled from Philadelphia. Jason was away in the army. Brian was branded with the traitor label much like Jack was. It felt like Jack was destined to be alone. He felt more comfortable alone anyway. He always felt like he was never going to escape his past, and that what was the Washington legacy in Philadelphia was going to be forever tainted. 

 

But yet, here they all were, the survivors. The last of the Washington’s were together. And it wasn’t some last-ditch shootout or on the run for the law, or visiting each other’s graves. They were all here. Out on a lake, fishing. Like an actual family. It was at this point that Jack felt a sort of semi-peace inside of him. What could have been so much worse, and really because of his own actions at certain points, it wasn’t. It wasn’t as bad. It was the most semblance of family Jack had felt in a long time. And he felt a large bit of pride swell up inside of him because...here it was, and this was also largely his doing. He had brought the family together, and now with all the major hiccups out of the way, maybe this could be a family led thing. Maybe this was a new beginning for Jack. 

 

The three Washington’s were fishing on the lake. It was the first part of September, but it’s Vegas, and it’s closer to Arizona, which is pretty hot all year around anyway. Now, there’s just them, having a good time on a boat in the middle of the lake, enjoying the time together. 

 

Something in Jack’s mind made it feel like it wasn’t going to last. But he was determined to enjoy it.

 

Brian: Gotta say Stick, this is pretty damn nice.

 

Brian was sitting on the front of the boat, fishing pole in one hand, a beer in the other as he chugged on it, before making sure his pole was steady.

 

Jack: I never knew you liked fishing.

 

Brian: That’s because nobody ever wanted to go fishing with me.

 

Brian’s line begins to tug as he stands up, chuckling to himself as he strains to catch a fish. 

 

Brian: Because I’m so damn good at this. Come on, you bastard!

 

Jason is also fishing off the side, but watches intently as reels in the big fish he’s been fighting with, and gets it on and out of the water. He laughs to himself as he pulls it one board.

 

Brian: You see that, kids? That’s how you fish! Right there! Look at that guy!

 

It is a pretty good-sized fish Brian brings on board. He is obviously very proud of himself as he poses with the fish after taking it off the hook. Jack, as always, seems unimpressed by all this.

 

Jack: I can’t imagine why nobody wanted to fish with you.

 

Brian laughs at the sarcastic comment.

 

Brian: Don’t be mad because I caught the fish. That’s what I do. I’m just really damn good at it. 

 

Jack: Yeah, but it’s not like Jay and I have much experience.

 

Jason: I mean, I used to fish a lot when I was in the Army. When there’s not much to do, you find ways to keep yourself entertained. 

 

Jack: Thanks for that.

 

Jason: Anytime. 

 

Brian: Don’t be a spoiled sport, Stick. Come on, take the picture.

 

Jack annoyingly took out his phone and snapped a picture of the fish in the grasp of Brian. His smile is wide and proud. Jack shook his head as Brian brought the fish on board to behind preparing it to eat.

 

Brian: That’s gonna be some good eating.

 

As Brian prepares the fish, Jack just watches at the boat just floats in the water, looking at the sun and the clear sky, then over to his brother, casually fishing and enjoying the moment.

 

Jack: I never thought this would be a thing.

 

Brian: What?

 

Jack: The three of us. Out here together. I figured we might be long dead by now.

 

Brian: Jesus, you love to bring down the mood, Stick.

 

Jack: I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that...we’re all just here, you know? Like, we don’t have any issues at the moment. Like, God damn man, I don’t know if I’ve ever had this feeling before.

 

Jason: It’s all good, bro. Sooner or later, we won’t have to have any worries. Just gotta keep at it.

 

Jack: Yeah, but I know they’re going to call me back to the ring at some point. But God damn this is a vacation I’m gonna remember.

 

Brian: Gotta take the moments when they come, Stick.

 

Jack: Yeah, you really do...

 

--



 

Click

 

Jack seems actually pretty relaxed as he begins, leaning back in his recliner, feet kicked up and a smirk on his face, replacing the usual scowl.

 

Jack: Well, it’s been a while, hasn’t it. Last time you were graced with the Face of the franchise’s presence, I was kicking the shit out of... uh... who was it? Alexander Raven? Yeah. That’s it. I beat his ass like it was nothing, as was expected, but you know, everybody had their little get togethers planned and the biggest star IN THIS GOD DAMN COMPANY was left, with nothing to do. You know, if I was there, I wouldn’t want to fight me either. Look at me. Chiseled out of stone. Body of a Greek God. Something you’d see in a museum. I am everything, and yeah, I’ve already accomplished so much, in a little over 2 years. They know, they all know, that if they step to me, and talk shit, I make them regret it. I have every single one of them, eating their words, and feeling like assholes, because I talk all the shit in the world, and I back it up. I have proven time and time again I am everything I say I am. Period.

So it wouldn’t surprise me at all if they all got together, and said, “Please, keep Jack Washington away from me.” I know the champ did. You know, I thought the Cowboy was better than that. I thought that the Cowboy could at least keep horrible, horrible Ken Davison from doing anything else to ruin this company, but obviously, he proved exactly why I don’t fucking trust anybody here. None of you can actually be relied on to do anything more difficult than making toast. And really, that’s like... 5 of you. The rest I wouldn’t even go that far. So yeah, I am of the full belief that it was a concentrated effort to keep me away from the ring, because they knew full well, I’d just embarrass them, like I’ve been doing for the past two years.

Rest assured, I will once again reclaim my spot at the top of this company, but you see, what those asshats failed to realize that when you keep me away from the ring, I get to watch. I get to study everybody and how they move. I got to see what everyone brings to the table, and it has made me even more dangerous than before. And I haven’t been dealing with these hard matches and long grueling brawls. No, I am as fresh as a daisy, and now, the time is right to strike. Or, maybe it isn’t. You see, that’s the thing, everybody, everybody knows that I am fully capable of doing what I say I’m going to do, and so, I don’t see the point in rushing to get anything done. Oh no, I can easily do all that right away, in one power move, but I want people to wonder. I want people to have to think about when and where Jack Washington will strike. In fact, I was perfectly happy to sit back and watch more of these train wreck champions kill each other, but it seems somebody out there wants to fight me. 

Why? Fuck if I know.

 

Jack shrugs, leaning forward in his chair.

 

Jack: So, it’s this... Finn Whalen dickhead, right? I think so, most of these dicks are so generic I don’t know who’s who anymore, but Finn is just another one of these “woe is me, and I see the darkness in everyone” types, from what I’ve seen. But he also hasn’t been around for quite some time. Last time I even saw him on the show, he was falling into a pool like a chump. Why I should have any fear of this kid is beyond me, but apparently, he has some kind of weird fetish for getting his ass kicked or something. That’s about the only reason I can think of that makes any kind of goddamn sense as to why he would want to fight me. But apparently, he wants to “test himself” or some shit. Sure, whatever dude, I don’t really care why you want to fight. I’m just making some small talk here because everybody knows it’s better than hearing him ramble on for 45 minutes about time and space and the duality of man or whatever other utter fucking gibberish, he wants to spit out in an effort to be different.  At least I think that’s what this is. I don’t know. All I know is, it’s fucking dumb and it won’t save Finn Whalen from getting his ass beat.

But seriously, I have to wonder who the fuck this dude even is. People act like I’m supposed to just know this shit. No, motherfucker, if I needed to know who you are, I’d ask. Which is what I’m doing. Because outside of your whiny bitching, I don’t know anything about you, because you haven’t shown me anything that I should care about. It is literally the first rule of wrestling, you are the supposed to make me care, Finn. And you don’t. You just expect I follow you and your career, because you list of bunch of random titles and victories, and only dickhead fanboys on the internet would have any goddamn clue who you are. And then act like they’re superior when the normal people are just shrugging their shoulders. “OH, MY GAWD, YOU DON’T KNOW WHO FINN WHALEN IS?! WOW YOU ARE JUST A STUPID CASUAL FAN!”  I’ve just heard it all too often and each and every time, I just roll my eyes, so much so that I may turn into a zombie because the shit bores me to death. 

You know how you make a name for yourself? You actually do something to get yourself noticed. And something that people actually care about. I don’t care if Finn has dove off the highest balcony, smashed anther asshole with a a light tube, or put on a five-star classic in front of 50 people. I have yet to see or hear a reason why I should give a flying fuck about Finn Whalen, other than he is my opponent and he actually wants to fight me.

 
Jack actually snickers at the thought of this challenge.

 

Jack: You want to test yourself against the top of the heap. Well, I would have suggested starting elsewhere and NOT trying to call me out. What? You think you’re a tough guy? Is that what this is? Wanna show all those kids who bullied you that you’re tough? I got news for you, hitting somebody in the head with a chair, or falling through 20 tables doesn’t make you tough. It makes you stupid. It makes you look like a complete idiot. A real fighter doesn’t need those type of things, Finn. That’s cheap, it’s easy, anybody can do that. To me, that’s just you crying out for attention.

Or, with a name like Finn, I am assuming you’re Irish... wait... are you leaning into the whole “I’m Irish and I love to fight” thing? I would say that’s beneath you, but is that just all the Irish people have? Drinking and fighting? There has to be more than that, right? Seriously. Why can’t there just be an Irish wrestler who doesn’t enjoy just fighting people? Why are you just a goddamn stereotype Finn? Why is this you? Is that where we are now? You just wanna be Irish and fight people? I mean, you could have stayed in Ireland and done that right? Because apparently that’s all that exist there. Just stop this shit, Finn. You should be better than that, and really, you know that. Just don’t show up drunk or whatever to this match.

But the thing is, you are making a pretty big mistake by assuming that because you love to fight, that I CAN’T. Because you are fucking wrong. I have been fighting my whole goddamn like, my guy. I have to square up with these hands and maybe a pool cue or a broken bottle or something, but mostly, I’ve used these two hands to beat the shit out of people in the streets. I know what it’s like to get punched in the face, so if you think that some wacky Irish style bar-fight thing that you wanna do scares me, it doesn’t. And it never will. Because I’ve been through the wars the streets can bring. I’ve had to sleep with a damn gun under my pillow for a long time because people wanted to take me out. Not just beat me up, not just kick my ass, no, they wanted to end me, and guess what? They failed. I’ve spent years of my life on the wrong side of good, and I’m just now trying to restore just a little bit of honor to my name, but at the same time, you wanting this match, it makes me think that I'm going to have to do some shit that I used to do back in the day to survive. And if you don’t think I’m willing to do them, well, you have another thing coming, Finn.


Jack stands up, stretching out as he shakes his head.

 

Jack: So look Finn, I know you have had some crazy visions of having some kind of dream match or something, but that shit isn’t happening. You’re little choice is going to backfire in your face and I’m going to beat your ass because I am better than you. All you will be in an example in this match. You will be nothing more than a visual example of how great I am, and how much you are beneath me. And then, who knows, I may just kick the shit out of the cowboy, I may beat the hell out of the garbage champion, or I may just kick back and let these idiots continue to beat each other up. I mean, I have all the power in the world right now. All the momentum, and I will be damned if I’m gonna let somebody like you, just stroll in and emo it up for me. I don’t care where you’re from, I don’t care what your stupid little background is, I don’t care how much you’ve been wanting this match. All that is to me, is another day, of me proving how great I really am, and how much better I am than pretty much everybody here.

 

But hey, you can take solace in the fact that you’re not going to fare any better than anybody else who’s tried. It’s not because you suck, even though you do, it’s because I’m just so good, hell, fucking great, that it puts everyone else to shame. You’re not going to be any different Finn. That’s just the way it is. You will learn, like everybody else around here, that I may be an asshole, I may have a dickhead, I may talk shit about every single person who works here, but you know what it is? The truth. I speak the truth when I say what I say. You can ask around here, and you will know that even though that everybody puts on the brave face when they are in front of the camera, behind the scenes, they are dreading the fact that you are trying to get me back in the game. They were all so desperate for their chance to let their dim bulbs try and shine, but let’s just be real, nobody, NOT ONE FUCKING PERSON ON THIS ROSTER... shines as bright as I do. They are all going to hate for you it. I would say it’s not really your fault, but it is. You brought me back, and now, everybody else, is going to pay the consequences for your stupidity. 

So come Sunday, after I beat you, I want you to take a good, long hard look in the mirror, and ask yourself if it was worth it. Ask yourself if it was everything you thought it would be. Ask yourself, “Am I really that stupid, to have brought Jack Washington back from vacation, and ruined everything for everybody else.”

 
The answer to all those questions, will be a resounding... yes.

 
You done fucked up Finn. And you have nobody to blame, but yourself.

 

With that, we fade to black.

 

Click.

Prologue:

Jack was successful in retaining the Internet championship against Goth, but it looked more like Jack escaped with the title. However, Jack has never been one to not take a victory any way he could get it, and this match was no exception. Jack got all he could handle, but still managed to come out on top. After his match was postponed from last week, Jack now returns after a long break, prepared to defend the championship yet again, this time in a rematch of sorts against Senor Vinnie, who defeated Jack not all that long ago, and has been on a hot streak ever since. Jack looks to have another stiff challenge coming his way in this defense.

 

Outside the ring, Jack shot yet another commercial, as the Washington brothers continue to expand their brand name outside the Casino, and further into Las Vegas. They did however run into trouble as Jason’s temper and seemingly increasing mental health problems have caused some friction in the plans and partnerships that Jack had previously forged, most notably with Sonny. Jack seemingly was able to smooth things over, but it seems that the Washington bloodline has spilled over to Jason, combined with his military training and instincts, are creating a volatile environment for Jack and the Washington’s in general.

 

Things seemingly have been quiet in recent weeks, but with Jason’s issues, it’s libel to go off at any time.

 

--

Washington Estate

Las Vegas, NV

 

Jack was actually asleep on the couch. In fact, the whole house was asleep, outside of patrolling guards who were seemingly taking their turn for a shift, watching for any revenge attack or attack in general. Mostly from the Mexicans, who had scouted where Jack lived. 

Jack slept in his bed, one arm tucked into the sheets, and the other behind the pillow behind his head. For as volatile as Jack’s life had been, he looked about as peaceful as he could get. Of course, those type of things never last a loud noise was heard.

 

*thump* 

 

Jack’s eyes flashed open and he shot up out of bed. His eyes scanned the room as he looked around frantically trying to decipher the noise. It happens again

 

*THUMP*

 

This time even louder, maybe it was because was more awake now, and it wasn’t from inside the room, as Jack turned the light on and saw nothing out of the ordinary. But it happened yet again.

 

*THUMP*

*THUMP*

 

The second thump was even heavier than the first. Jack turned and looked at the bed, but again, there was no one. It wasn’t inside the room, it was in the next room over. 

 

Jack: Jason. Shit!

 

Jack jerked the door open and ran into the next room, frantically opening the door to see his brother, bleeding from the forehead and on the floor. 

 

Jack: Jay!

 

Jack rushes over and Jason is conscious, but is pretty much out of it. Jack looks at the blood spatter on the wall and the cracks around it. 

 

Jack: Christ... Jason, what the fuck are you doing?

 

Jack looked at Jason’s injuries as Brian stood in the doorway.

 

Brian: What was that noise?

 

Jack: He was banging his head against the wall.

 

Brian: God dammit.

 

Jack tended to his brother, helping him to the kitchen where he gets first-aid kit after sitting Jason down in a chair, tending to his forehead with has deep busies, discoloration and still bleeding. Jack ensures Jason is still able to function before sitting him down, a glass of water and ice pack later.

 

Jack: What the fuck was that?

 

Jason: … Huh?

 

Jack: Well, if I didn’t know any better Jay, I’d say you were up in the middle of the night, FUCKING BANGING YOUR HEAD AGAINST THE WALL!

 

Jason: Oh... yeah.

 

Jack: WHY? What is wrong with you?

 

Jason: I... I don’t know man, I just... some things I was just thinking about and then, it happened and I must have like, blacked out and gone into a rage or a spell or something.

 

Jack: Fucking Christ, Jay, no we have to get you the hospital. 

 

Jason: No, man... I’m good. I’m good.

 

Jack turns back, angry at his brother, but more out of frustration than anything else.

 

Jack: You’re not GOOD, Jay. Not at all. 

 

Jack threw away the wrappers and some bandages that were used along with the paper towels to soak up the blood. He turned to Brian as he helped Jason, almost forced Jason to go to the car. 

 

Jack: See if you can clean up that blood in the room.

 

Jack grabbed his keys, and with one hand on his brother’s arm, escorted him to his car.

 

Jack: Open the gates, Eric.

 

Jack put Jason in the passenger seat and drove him to the nearest hospital to be examined.

 

Jack: You wanna tell me why you did that, and not just say “because” or some shit?

 

Jason didn’t answer for a while, Jack turned and shook him to ensure he was still awake.

 

Jack: You need to talk to me, Jay. Don’t fucking do this right now.

 

Jason waved Jack off and Jack quickly pulled the car over, and grabbed his brother by the collar.

 

Jack: DON’T FUCKING DO THIS. I’M NOT GOING TO DEAL WITH THIS SHIT RIGHT NOW! YOU’RE HURT! 

 

Jason’s eyes got a little wider than usual. He saw and felt the sincerity in Jack’s voice, even through all the anger.

 

Jason: I... I’m sorry man. I’m sorry.

 

Jack: You’re god-damn right you are. Fuck. 

 

Jack angrily peeled out and continued to drive to the hospital. 

 

--

 

Centennial Hills Hospital

Las Vegas, NV.

 

Jack checked Jason into the emergency room and stayed with him, until he was called, the whole time attempting to keep Jason awake and alert after his injuries. Finally, when he was called, he escorted Jason, along with the nurse, putting Jason in a wheelchair to help him remain stable. The nurse checked vitals and blood pressure, as they do, before she finished her checklist.

 

Nurse: The doctor will be in to see you in a moment.

 

The nurse quietly left the room and Jack and Jason were alone.

 

Jason: Sorry about this, bro.

 

Jack facepalmed, not wanting to shout at his brother and let out a deep sigh.

 

Jason: I guess I fucked things up again.

 

Jack: Jay, don’t. Don’t do this right now. 

 

The two brothers sat in silence for a few moments, and the doctor finally came in, and began examining Jason’s head injuries.

 

Doctor: Looks like you have yourself quite a nasty bump. Blunt force trauma as well. What happened.

 

Jason: I... I banged my head against the wall.

 

The Doctor at first didn’t believe Jason was serious until he looked at the wound and at Jason again.

 

Doctor: I see.

 

Jason: But I’m good now.

 

Jack: No, you’re not good.

 

Doctor: I’m afraid I’m going to agree with your...

 

Jack: Brother.

 

Doctor: Brother. Yes, you should be kept at least overnight for observation. Any head injury we want to take precautions with due to the long-term effects of CTE.

 

Jason: I’m...

 

Jack: No, you’re staying here. 

 

Jason: Come on...

 

Jack: Don’t.

 

The sterness in Jack’s voice finally caused Jason to relent. 

 

Doctor: Don’t worry, we’ll take care of everything, get it all figured out.

--

Washington Estate

Las Vegas, NV.

 

Jack returned home, pouring himself a glass of Jack Daniels to help calm his nerves. Brian was three still, throwing away some paper towels.

 

Brian: How’s he doing?

 

Jack: They’re going to keep him a while.

 

Brian: Not surprised.

 

Jack: You’re not surprised?

 

Brian: That they’d want to keep him? No. The kid was bashing his head against the wall.

 

Jack: You think... you it’s what’s causing this?

 

Brian: I don’t know. This is the first time I’ve seen it. Or heard it for that matter.

 

Jack: There’s something wrong with him, and I don’t know what it is.

 

Brian: You and me both Stick. But you have to let the doctors do their work. I told you it could be all the shit he was doing in the military, maybe he relapsed or something. Maybe it’s too far gone for us to fix.

 

Jack: Don’t you say that. Don’t you even think that shit. My brother is going to fine. 

 

Brian gave Jack a stern look in return for his words. He poured himself a drink to match Jack’s.

 

Brian: I think we both know at this point that isn’t going to happen, Stick. Jason is sick in the head and he’s not going to be okay without some help.

 

This is clearly not what Jack wanted to hear as he swallows a gulp of the booze. He angrily slams the glass on the kitchen table.

 

Jack: I said, he’s going to be fine.

 

There is a long period of silence between the two men before Brian speaks again.

 

Brian: I got most of it cleaned up, we’re going to need some bleech to get the stains out though.

 

Jack: Fine.

 

Jack finished a gulp of his drink and placed the glass in the sink. He walked away from Brian and went back to Jason’s room, examining the hole that Jason was working on with his head. The blood still has some streaks on the wall, and some stain the carpet as Brian alluded to. Jack began to search through Jason’s things, trying to find something, anything that could be a clue as to why Jason would do this, but he doesn’t find anything of any real value to that end. Just empty pill bottles that Jason had kept from his first time in the hospital. Jack angrily swipes at the mess he has made.

 

Jack: Fuck.

 

-- 

Grand Flamingo Casino

Las Vegas, NV

Two days later

 

Jason was now out of the hospital, but with more pills and seemed to be out of it, sitting in the main office control room looking at cameras and the floor below as the casino continued to operate. Jack was also there this time, as there was a buzz from the secretary.

 

Jack: Yeah.

 

Secretary: Mr. Washington, the Commissioner is here.

 

Jack sighed heavily

 

Jack: Give me two minutes.

 

Jack turned to Jason, who was staring at the cameras.

 

Jack: Jay, I gotta handle this.

 

Jason turned to Jack, sitting up a little straighter in his chair from his almost slumped over position.

 

Jason: I’m cool. 

 

Jack: Are you? I need you to be cool. 

 

Jason: I’m cool, bro. Promise. You’ll never know I was even here.

 

Jack: I think you need to go get some rest outside the office until we’re done.

 

Jason: I SAID I WAS COOL.

 

Jack bit his tongue and slowly approached his brother, and stood in front of him, both hands on the chair on either side of Jason.

 

Jack: DO. NOT. FUCK WITH THIS. I’m tell you now. 

 

Again, Jack’s anger seemed to reach Jason, who threw his hands up and stood up. 

 

Jason: Okay bro... okay... you got it.

 

Jason made his exit from the room as Jack cleared his throat and buzzed the intercom. 

 

Jack: You can send him in, and please look after my brother.

 

Secretary: Yes, sir.

 

Jason and the Commisioner walked past each other as the Commisioner came in, his expenside belt buckle shining and snakeskin boots showing off his wealth without really meaning to. He extended his hand to Jack.

 

Jack: Mr. Anderson.

 

Ted: I’m glad you remember, young Jack.

 

Jack: Of course. Please, have a seat.

 

Ted: Thank you.

 

Ted sat down, easing himself into an office chair as Jack sat behind the desk that Jason usually sat at.

 

Ted: Been a long time.

 

Jack: Yes, sir. How have you been?

 

Ted: Oh, I can't complain. 

 

Ted pointed behind himself, motioning to mention Jason.

 

Ted: Long night for that fella?

 

Jack: Yeah. Bumped his head so he’s a little under the weather.

 

Ted: That... is your brother correct?

 

Jack: Yes, sir.

 

Ted: I see. Didn’t you have another fella in here? 

 

Jack: Yes, Benny. Benny left town, just some mutual disagreements. 

 

Ted: That will happen, won’t it?

 

Jack: Yes, sir. 

 

Jack motioned to his refrigerator

 

Jack: Can I get you anything.

 

Ted waves his hands to politely decline.

 

Jack: So, what can I do for you?

 

Ted: Well, I do seem to remember a while back that we had talked, much like this, and it was about my boy, Danny.

 

Jack: Yes, that’s right. I remember.

 

Ted: I’m glad you do. If I recall that conversation, it was in reference to giving young Danny a job with your organization.

 

Jack: Yes, that’s correct. And I believe we do have some openings if that’s what you still wish. 

 

Ted: Well, that would be mighty fine. Again, I would consider it a personal favor.

 

Jack: Yes, of course, I think that would work out for the both of us. 

 

Ted: I believe so as well. And it would help considering the word going around.

 

Jack: Oh?

 

Ted: Now, I don’t mean to say things out of turn, but word did get around about your brother there and some problems around here.

 

Jack: Oh. Yes, I have heard those, I usually don’t pay attention to those types of negative stories and theories. My brother got mixed up with some bad people. And unfortunately, we had to make some changes after that. It was very unfortunate, but I wasn’t aware of those things. 

 

Ted: This is your casino, yes?

 

Jack: Yes. But as a man, you can appreciate that, sometimes maybe you’ve got a leaky pipe somewhere, and you may not notice it right away until it leaks. This was one of those types of situations. Once it was brought to our attention, it was handled. As I said, I don’t pay attention to negative publicity. I simply want to make sure that the house does well.

 

Ted: And it has, hasn’t it?

 

Jack: Outside of that incident, yes. But that was a minor thing and we’re looking into the future.

 

Ted: Yes, I’ve heard that as well. It’s well... it’s my job to hear these types of things. I also heard about a man walking away from here from a broken hand.

 

Jack: That was also unfortunate. But that gentlemen decided he wanted to cheat the system. And we can’t have that, can we?

 

Ted: No sir, I don’t believe we can. 

 

Ted adjusted himself in his chair, leaning back, now seemingly more comfortable.

 

Ted: Well then, I guess all that we really need to discuss is what you can do with Danny.

 

Jack: Well, if he’s good at taking instruction, we do have security openings. We can always use more.

 

Ted: Well, I have to say this was a very easy negotiation then. Far easier than last time.

 

Jack: Well, it just took some time to get everything up and running. I told you you had my word on this thing. Anything I can do to help, that’s what I’m here for. I’m operating for you, sir.

 

Ted: That’s very good. Well, I suppose then I can bring Danny in and we can get that taken care of.

 

Jack: We can get him his license and everything taken care of as well. There’s good people in security, we made sure to only hire the best of the best, he’ll be in good hands, and I’ll personally make sure he’s in a good spot.

 

Ted smiled and stood up, hitching up his pants and nodding to himself.

 

Ted: Mr. Washington, I really want you to know how much I appreciate you keeping your word.

 

Jack: It’s my job, Mr. Anderson. I pride myself on keeping my word.

 

Ted: Well, I suppose I should mosey on outta here, leave you to the house. I’ll bring by Danny and we can go from there.

 

Jack: Sounds like a plan.

 

The two men shake hands as Ted leaves the room. Jack places both hands on his desk and sighs again. The door opens again shortly after and Jason walks in, shutting the door behind him before throwing his hands up.

 

Jason: What was that?

 

Jack: A negotiation.

 

Jason: Without me? Isn’t my name on this place too?

 

Jack: Jason, I did it for both of us, and you are in no condition to be part of it.

 

Jason: Nah man, you just hired somebody and didn’t tell me! That’s not cool! 

 

Jack: Because it had to be done. We can’t strongarm the fucking commissioner!

 

Jason: This dude you’re hiring could bring down everything. What happens if shit gets stolen or something?

 

Jack: It. Had. To. Be. Done. Period. 

 

Jason shakes his head, now upset at the whole situation.

 

Jason: This is supposed to be about us, bro. US. This is why the rep is what it is.

 

Jack: And it is about us. And you really shouldn’t care about what people say about me. I can take care of myself. But more importantly, this is about the house, and making sure the house wins. And by default, we win too.

 

Jason: You’re being selfish right now.

 

Jack is semeingly triggered by that remark and again, snatches up Jason by his collar.

 

Jack: I’M DOING THIS SHIT FOR US! YOU COULD HAVE FUCKING DIED A FEW TIMES NOW IF NOT FOR ME! I’VE TAKEN CARE OF YOU! DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE CALL ME SELFISH!

 

Jason again, sees the frustration in Jack’s actions and the tremble in his voice.

 

Jason: I’m sorry, bro.

 

Jack finally let’s go of Jason and turns away from him.

 

Jack: Listen, if he comes back and I’m not here, don’t do a fucking thing without me. You understand that? I’ve got enough shit to deal with and I’ve got to go prepared for a match. 

 

Jason sighs and puts his hand on Jack’s shoulder.

 

Jason: I’m messed up, and I’m sorry.

 

Jack sighs.

 

Jack: I know you’re trying to do right, Jay. I do.  I just need you to focus, and help me, and together, we will go where we need to go. Okay?

 

Jason: Okay.

--

 


 

Click.

 

Jack is pacing back and forth, standing with the SCW Internet championship draped over his shoulder. His usual scowl gives way this week to another trademark, the sly, knowing smirk. The smug look of a man who you want to punch in the face. That look then gives way to the look of a man who is disappointed.

 

Jack: You know, apparently it has not stuck in people’s heads and I would find that disappointing, but damn, it is always hilarious to see the looks on your stupid ass faces when the truth slaps you in the face. And that truth is simply this: I am the best. I am the man around here. I am the face of this franchise. I don’t say it as a marketing thing, I don’t say it to be cool, I say it because it’s the truth. People are praying night and day for my downfall, that somebody, somewhere, shuts me up. People really don’t like it when you give the truth, straight up and no chaser. And that’s what I do, and people get really salty when they hear it and see it. I told you all I would beat Goth’s old ass, and I did. I smacked him around, and retained my title. Anybody complaining and saying “But you used the tights!” I have said it many times people, by hook or by crook. Nobody wants to remember the “how”, they just want to remember “who”. And that, is me. You don’t have to like it, but the reality of the situation is, there are two things you can really do about it.

 

Nothing. And accept it. 

 

Accept that I am everything I say I am, because I go out there and get the job done. It’s not always clean, but you show me any person in any walk of life who does everything exactly the way it’s supposed to be done, and I will show you a sucker. They are one in the same. I do what needs to be done and ensure the win. That’s what I have always done. I’ve been up front about that from day one. This is job to me, I go out there and win, because then, I get paid more, and I go and cash that check and I’m laughing all the way to the bank. That’s what I do. You can be mad and in your feels all you want, but the fact remains that I am this company. You point your finger at me, when we have people doing it all the time. If anything, you should be praising me because I have the balls to tell you all to your face, that yes, I will do whatever it takes. If I have pull tights, gouge eyes, kick a man in his baby nuts, I will do it. 

 

And yet, you all continue to throw up your hands when I do what I say I’m going to do. So, you know what? I will give you all another reason to do exactly the same thing this week, when I get my revenge on Senor Vinnie.

 

Jack almost does a faceplam as he mentions Vinnie’s name. Almost a feeling of cringe washes over him, but a finger is raised.

 

Jack: Oh yes, Senor Vinnie. The man you are now pinning your hopes on because a month or so ago, he managed a fluke victory and he got his hand raised. I have no shame in admitting it, it happened, even the great ones slip up from time to time, and that’s exactly what happened. I’m not making any excuses, because I don’t need to. Vinnie got one win and all of a sudden, he’s the man around here? Please. What, he beat Alexander Raven? Who? Who is Alexander Raven? What has he done? Nothing. Then he beats Fenris? Yeah, I beat Fenris too, what’s that supposed to mean to me? In fact, Fenris didn’t even show up and refused to be a team player when he was supposed to face me. He sends his sorry ass brother to fight his battles. He can claim “moral high ground” all he wants, but we all know the real story. He wanted nothing to do with the match, because he knew he was going to lose anyway, but sure, he was just upset about the match. Guess what? I didn’t like the match type either, but I still did it. 

 

But no, you all want to sit here now and act like you care and you’re pulling for Vinnie to do something that he managed to do before on his best day. Well, June 12th isn’t about to be Vinnie’s best day, I will tell you that right now. He’s going to get his ass beat, and then you can all cry about it online, because I will still be the Internet champion, and you can take that to the bank, like I take my winnings. It’s as simple as that. 

 

Oh, but I can hear your twitter fingers mashing those keys and typing in all caps and unleashing the fury on me about how I barely got by Goth, and Vinnie has all this momentum and I am clearly underestimating Vinnie. When the real truth is, I underestimate EVERYONE. And you know why? Because everyone in this company has proven at one time or another, they will do some stupid shit and not compete the way they should. Everyone at one time has proven they suck. Everyone has proven themselves to be hypocrites and liars. I am not one of those people. My standards are high, and everyone consistently has failed to meet those standards. So yeah, I wouldn’t count on any single person in this company to water a lawn, much less compete at my level. I am head and shoulders about people like Vinnie, and when I get drug down to that level, all of a sudden, I’m in danger of losing this championship.

 

And that’s what you fail to realize is happening right in front of your faces. 

 

Jack’s smirk returns, but if fades just as quickly as it appears as he sits down, easing himself into his recliner as he continues.

 

Jack: You all do understand now that it’s a bad day for me when I lose to people like Vinnie. You know that, right? And it’s because I am at that level where you hate that I win, but at the end of the day, you EXPECT me to win. You know I’m going to do what I have to do, and then I win, and the whole cycle starts over again, but in the back of your minds, you knew it was going to happen anyway. So, when I take Vinnie out this week, you shouldn’t be shocked anymore. You should learn to just accept that I am the man. You will have to just accept that no matter how hard the people you want to take me down try, they will fail, and you are the one who has to go online and complain. 

 

Because as Internet champion, I see it all now. I see every stupid word the mouth-breathing neckbeards post as they eat their party sized bag of Dorito’s and drink their two-liter Fanta. I see them all just littering my internet with toxic shit and complaints and everybody is an expert on all this. And every time they expect me to fall, I go even higher. You are all just getting mad and it makes me laugh. Why you all are mad online is beyond me, but you continue to give me a good laugh, and make this Internet championship, almost worth it, but there’s money involved and that obviously makes it worth more than your shitty opinions.

 

But you guys still want to harp on Vinnie because of what happened, you do that. Let that man be your hero, the one who’s finally going to stop me. Put all your faith in that man who can’t even decide if he’s Brother Vinnie, Senor Vinnie, Vincent Van Gogh or Vinnie Jones. Maybe all four. But yes, put your faith in this moron as your best hope. You do that, and you see how far it gets you. The man won a couple of matches in a row and now, you’re pinning everything on this match to beat me again. You are wishing and hoping and deep down in all your dumb little minds, you know that this man has no chance. You know I’m going to beat him, and you can’t do anything about it. It’s just how this is going to go, and in your heart of hearts, you know it’s the truth.

 

Jack points at his own heart to emphasize the point. Then, it turns into a shrug.

 

Jack: But, you know, I don’t think I’m a bad guy. It’s all of you who give me that reputation. You put that on me, and I accepted it. I owned it. And that’s what really pisses you off. You did this, you created the monster, and now, you want to sit back and complain that I’m just too good to be where I am. That’s not my fault. I told everyone from the beginning I was going to rise to the top and I have. Senor Vinnie is a joke, and he will be disposed of. 

 

I know he’s feeling himself right now, aren’t you Vinnie? You’re feeling like this is your best chance. This is the time where you are going to shine with the lights on at their brightest and you think you’ve got a chance in hell. Again, let’s just be real here, you got a win, a fluke win, and pretty much every time you and I have gotten into the ring together, you’ve been smashed and beaten and I’ve gone upward towards the top of the mountain. You on the other hand? Again, let’s be real, this current however long match win streak is as good as you’ve been in years. You’ve been floundering for a long time and latched onto failing groups just trying to stay relevant, and now, you’ve had this run of luck and you think you are hot shit right now. Because this is where you always imagined you’d be. Maybe, maybe not. Knowing you, you probably imagined you’d be Don Quixote or some shit right? A knight riding into battle, trying for some adventure.

 

Well, there’s two things here, Vinnie. Luck always runs out. Nobody beats the house. You don’t take the house. The house takes you. This company is based in Las Vegas anyway, right? You should know that by now. You can try and play the odds all you want, but just like everybody else who tries to doubt me, the odds are not in your favor. You won some matches, but your odds are pretty god damn slim, Vinnie. You know it, I know it, and everybody in the world knows it. You will end up going bust at the tables when you try and fuck with me. You may get one or two, but the trick is to quit while you’re still ahead. But you? You’re too stupid to know that. You’re keep pulling the slot, you’ll keep going all in, because it worked a time or two. You will continue to go for broke, and guess what? This Sunday, it’s all going to come back to bite you in the ass, because while you have dreams and goals of taking this championship from me, you’re going to walk away with NOTHING. Not a god damn thing.

 

And two, I had to read that stupid novel in middle school, and it was dumb then, and it’s dumb now. Don Quixote was a dumb ass old man who thought he was more than he was. That’s you to a fucking T, Vinnie. You really think you are something special. You want to try and find that adventure, well, I have news for you, this is not where you’re going to find it. You can ride the horse all you want, it will not make a lick of difference, because I’m going to not only knock you off that horse, I’m going to beat you into oblivion and maybe knock some sense into your head, like those guys beat up Don Quixote. Maybe then you will realize, like everybody else, I am at the very top of this game. The only reason I’m not the world champion right now, is because this championship affords me some unique opportunities. Opportunities that an idiot like you would obviously waste. You had this championship before, and you weren’t able to harness it’s potential. You failed to do anything of significance, and that has been the story of your whole career at this point. You have flashes of what you could be, but then it goes down the drain just as quickly as it appears. That’s what you do Vinnie.

 

You think you deserve this championship? No, you fucking don’t. All you deserve is the ass beating I’m going to give you, and then I will retain this championship, and you will walk away like so many other, licking your wounds and slowly coming to the realization that you can’t touch me. Nobody in this game can touch me. It has taken me less than two full years to rise to the top and stay there. I have already moved myself high on the list of championship reign, because unlike some idiots around here, I don’t need a bunch of random ass title reigns to show you I am at the top. All it takes is once, Vinnie. You proved already you were not ready to stay on top, you have fallen off the mountain just after reaching the peak. You are pathetic and you do not deserve to ever hold this championship, ever again. And you do not deserve to be in the same ring with me, ever again.

 

Jack’s face now turns into the frown we are so accustomed to seeing.

 

Jack: I am doing big things Vinnie. Bigger than you could ever hope to imagine. And I can’t have someone like you trying to ruin it for me. You already brought me down once, and it you think that because I’ve said all the things I’ve said, that I’ve just forgotten that fact, and you are DEAD wrong. You will know Vinnie, when it’s all over that you were in the ring with a man who is just flat out better than you, and will not stand in my way as I make this championship as important as it should be. And the true talent can come after it. Not clowns like you who just get a shot at random. Oh no, that shit is about to end, we are about to put the stamp of approval down and I will continue to cement my legacy at your expense, and at the expense of all these other clowns who think they can hold a candle to me. You’re just going to be another victim. Just accept it, Vinnie, it’s all over for you, come Sunday.

 

But that doesn’t let any of you morons out there who continue to think I’m not everything I say I am off the hook. Oh no, you see, you people drive me, you make me want to stick it up your asses each and every time I go out there, just so I can see you stupid face, and read your angry comments when I get the chance. I mean, being real, I don’t spend much time on the Internet, I have things I need to do. I think more of you need to get outside and learn to just exist without the internet. Don’t worry about it though, I will keep it safe.  I mean, I AM the Internet champion. And as Internet champion, I will continue to be at the top, and be the face you pay to see each and every time I go out there. I can’t wait to throw it back in each of every single one of your faces, as you rant and rave about how I’m this or I’m that or I’m overrated or whatever the case may be.

 

So, when I beat Senor Vinnie, and I retain the Internet championship... just know that all of you, played a role in that. So, you will have no one to blame but yourselves.

 

Learn to love it, people. I am the Face of this Franchise, and I will be for a long, long time. Keep hating though, it makes it all that much sweeter, and I will be laughing all the way to the bank.

 

Vinnie, I’ll see you on Sunday, you dumb mother fucker. Now, camera man, please, get out of here, I have more important things to do on the Internet. Get your caps lock ready, people. Give it to me, I want your hate. I want it all, because at the end of the day, I’ll still be laughing.

 

With that, the promo is over, and we cut to black.

 

Click.
 

Prologue: 

Jack Washington is now the SCW Internet champion after he defeated Ken Davison and Matthew Knox at Blaze of Glory. It was especially satisfying for Jack to beat the champion Ken Davison in order to win the championship itself. With yet another title added to his collection in his short time in SCW, it appears that the sky is truly the limit for Jack’s potential. And there will be no doubt that Jack will make sure every single person knows about. Jack even took a rare opportunity to tweet his success, perhaps this will lead to more tweeting in the future? Only time will tell, but now, Jack returns after a week of celebration to face an old rival in Senor Vinnie. How will Jack fair against Vinnie, who he had trouble with in the past? Will Jack overlook Vinnie, or will he be able to continue his pretty dominant run in SCW?

 

Outside the ring, Jason has now taken over for Benny after Benny disagreed with Jack and let his feelings be known about the whole situation with the Mexicans and Jason’s kidnapping. However, it was actually Jason who suggested this in the first place as Jack has never wanted Jason to be part of the underhanded side of business dealings. Jason showed not only motivation to do so, but actually more of a short fuse and eagerness to take extreme measures when it comes to business. It was he who suggested that Benny be dealt with, and after careful consultation and thought, Brian and Jack both agreed that Benny had to go. And it was Jason who suggested the extreme circumstances to get Benny out of the way.

 

Now that that’s taken care of, there appears to be a new era for both the whole Washington family. Jason is in charge of the Casino, Jack is a champion, this is an interesting time for both. What's next?

 

--

Washington Estate

Las Vegas, NV

 

Jack returned home. But, it was a silent house he returned to. Brian had gone with Jason to the Casino to give him some on-the-job training in the running of the casino. So, Jack simply let himself in, his championship draped over his bag and fastened as he locked his car door. The armed guards who kept watch over Jack’s house, were the only one’s around, but they weren’t inside the house. Jack sat himself down, and for a moment, he kind of missed Brian and Jason being around. He knew where they were, but it wasn’t the same. He almost took for granted that Brian would be in the house, presumably drinking, but he would be there. And now, he wasn’t. 

 

This left Jack alone and the whole house to himself. So, with that, he partied. It was his house, he had done the work, and he was going to enjoy himself after all the work was done. And he was all alone, and one might say... with all his friends.

 

Jack took a shower and then the drinking began. He popped champagne, and drink Jack Daniels. He would wander around the house, bumping into walls and holding his championship and pretending that he was in front of a crowd, though, to be fair, to be that intoxicated, it was all the same to him. He wore nothing but his bathrobe as he paraded around, until he wandered into the bathroom, and he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. 

 

For a moment, he stared at himself in the mirror, looking at his own bloodshot eyes filled reflection. He stared, possibly thinking that it was someone else, and not himself. 

 

Jack: Who the fuck do you think you are?

 

Jack slurred his words as the reflection stared back at him, and him alone.

 

Jack: You did what you had to do, didn’t you? Is that what you think you did? You did some cool shit and you got people out of your way. That’s what you did, right? Those people didn’t mean anything to you. They were nothing. They were just in the way. Holding you back. You made the right choice. 

 

Jack nodded to himself,  as if he was trying to convince himself and the man in the mirror staring back at him. 

 

Jack: You made the right choice. Yeah, you did.

 

Jack wandered back into the living room, continuing to drink until he passed out, the SCW Internet championship around his waist, his bathrobe covering him up, on the floor, spread eagle, and a smashed bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand.

 

Brian and Jason soon returned to the house, finding Jack passed out and the whole house reeking of alcohol. 

 

Brian: Well, so much for welcoming Stick home, huh Jay?

 

Jason ensured that Jack was at least still alive before shaking his head. 

 

Jason: He needed his moment. 

 

Jason and Brian soon picked up Jack and brought him to his room, where he slept. Jason laid him on his side, just in case anything happened. 

 

Jack finally woke up the next morning, a pounding headache for his troubles and all that comes with a night of hard drinking. He groggily stumbled out of bed, and down the hall into the kitchen area, where Brian was drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. He groaned as he sat down at his place at the table.

 

Brian: Rough night?

 

Jack didn’t respond, instead shooting a death glare at Brian, who only snickered in response.

 

Jack: I enjoyed myself.

 

Brian: Yeah, it sure looked like it. 

 

Jack: Stop talking so loud.

 

Brain just shook his head, understanding where Jack was coming from, but still enjoying his self-imposed misery. Jack then stared at Brian for what seemed like forever as Brian just read the paper. Brian eventually caught a glimpse and looked back at him.

 

Brian: You alright, Stick?

 

Jack: Brian... tell me something. Did we do the right thing?

 

Brian simply stared back at Jack, who looked even more confused.

 

Brian: In what way?

 

Jack: I mean... Benny, like, we did what we needed to do, right?

 

Brian: That Jack hit pretty hard, didn’t it?

 

Jack didn’t answer, finally looking away and rubbing his eyes. He shook his head, trying to clear his hangover. Brian went back to reading the paper for a second, and then put it down.

 

Brian: Stick, you knew from the very start that Benny wasn’t going to be part of the future. You knew when you started, he was bad news. You paid him a lot, and guess what? He was going to ask for more. He was going to try and take you for all he could. You knew that, and yet, you still let him be what he was. If anything, YOU took care of HIM. And then, when he was no longer useful, we have to move on. And you knew he wasn’t going to go quietly. You knew that. And so, what we did... we had to do.

 

Jack thought for a few seconds and then simply returned to looking forward, before slowly getting to his feet and then walking to the coffee pot himself and pouring himself a cup. He added his cream and sugar and sat down drinking it. 

 

Finally, after a few moments of silence and just the two drinking coffee, Jason finally came in, extremely loud and in a celebratory mood.

 

Jason: Bro! I saw what you did! You’re the fucking champion! I knew you could do it! You fucking got that shit! 

 

Jack groaned, covering his ears as Jason spoke.

 

Jack: Can you keep it down, Jay, please?

 

Jason smirked and patting Jack on the back.

 

Jason: Oh, sorry bro! I didn’t mean that. But come on, you already had a sweet celebration. We got some more celebrating to do.

 

Jack: Can it wait until I sober up, please?

 

Jason: Bro, you are the champion of the internet! You know how much this helps us?! 

 

Jack: What?

 

Jason: I’m talking expansion bro.

 

Jack: What?

 

Jason: Okay, I guess we do need to wait until you sober up.

 

Jack: Thank you.

 

 

--




Click

Jack is shown with a smug look on his face, replacing his usual scowl. After all, he had plenty to be happy about, with the Internet champion draped over his shoulder as he begins.

 

Jack: I can only laugh at you at this point. I mean, come on now, you all can’t be serious right now. Was there any doubt that I would do exactly what I said I was going to do? Really, the only question I have now, is “Why”? Why do any of you doubt me when I say I’m going to do something. Let’s be real here, the only reason I didn’t win this championship sooner is because Ken Davison stole the opportunity from me. And now that that has been fixed, I am the SCW Internet champion. Did you all really think, that I would fail? I told everyone from the very start that I was that fucking good. I have demolished every single person I said I would. I beat the shit out of everybody I say I’m going to beat the shit out of. I know I sound like a broken record at this point, but people continue to try and tell you otherwise. People continue to think that I’m just talking shit, just to talk shit. No, when I say something, I mean it. When I say I’m going to do something, I do it. It’s just that simple. I’m not the type of guy who pussyfoots around. I mean what I say, and I say what I mean. And because of that, I am where I am supposed to be. Standing here with this championship over my shoulder, like it should have been, back in January.

 

I told you all Ken Davison was a paper champion and had no business in the ring with me. I told you all Matt Knox should have known better stayed out of the way. At least Matt was smart enough to actually listen and keep himself in the background. He and Ken can go slap fight with each other like a couple of girls on their time. My time will be spent doing better things. The only real thing of note coming out of Blaze of Glory is me. Did other people win titles? Sure, but who cares about any of them? I am the most important thing on any show I am on, and this was no different. You all have watched me destroy person after person and keep the same energy. Do you really think that is going to change? I mean, let’s again, keep this real, has anybody done what I’ve done? Has anybody been at big of a force in SCW history? 

 

I’ll wait. The answer of course, is no.

 

I have made a stamp on this company, and the reality is, I’m 25 years old. I haven’t even HIT my prime yet. I’m just scratching the surface of what I can really do. By the end of my time in SCW, I will be the greatest of all time. There will be no doubts of that. I will win more titles, I will win more matches, I will do more than anyone. Man or woman, it doesn’t matter, at the end of the day, I will be the very best! Now, as if my greatness was ever in question, I will continue to silence and all doubters that remain, and you need to look no further, than this upcoming week.

 

Jack just shakes his head, still wearing the smug look on his face.

 

Jack: Senor Vinnie. Or Brother Vinnie. Or whatever you want to call yourself these days, back in the day, it used to be that perhaps you would give me a big fight. About a year ago, you were, on some levels on my level. But that shit has quickly been erased, and you are nothing but a shell of what you used to be. You know it, and I know it. That shell wasn’t that much to begin with, but let’s face the facts, Vinnie, you were a world champion a while back, and you have consistently been failing ever since. It looks more and more like you are nothing but a fluke. I mean, I get it, I’m fucking great. I am the face of this franchise. But as I have risen right the cream I am, you have fallen. You have fallen so far, it’s almost like you stopped caring about actually trying to get good. You’re a scrub now. 

 

I would ask what happened, but the truth is, I happened. I am everything you thought you were going to be and that part is probably what pisses you off the most. I mean, for fucks sake man, you were a world champion, and you now find yourself joining Brother David Shepard? You thought THAT would resurrect your career? I mean, honestly man, tell me the truth, did you think that shit would work? That made you worse, and clearly, it’s a sign of weakness that you need to rely on other people to get the job done for you. What happened to you, Vinnie? I mean, you were always crazy, but now, it’s more like an excuse to act like a complete idiot. It’s made you soft, Vinnie. I mean, you were always a chump, but you aren’t really even worth my time and effort anymore. I was hoping for so much more at this point and I’m not getting a damn thing. And now, you want to step into the ring with me AGAIN? Are you that crazy? I mean, phony tough is one thing, but this is almost sad at this point.

 

I emphasize the word “almost”

 

Because all this is really going to be Vinnie, is me, beating the shit out of you, once again, and then you can join Alex Jones and Ken Davison as those bitches who need to stay out of my way for the rest of your time in SCW. Don’t bother trying to try and fight me anymore. I’m over it. I’m done with it. You are a waste of my time and I will continue to shit all over you and anybody who looks like you. I’m just beginning to see the real truth at this point, Vinnie. You were NEVER in my league, I just wasn’t there yet, and now, my accomplishments, my stature, it DWARFS yours. You are inferior, Vinnie. You were better off thinking you were Columbus or whatever it was. Now, you’re not worth the time. I will still do what the true face of the franchise does and I will wipe the floor with you and show everyone just how distant we are at this point. I will show everyone not only how much greater I have become, but how far you have truly fallen. It’s not going to be close, Vinnie. I just want you to understand that. It’s going to be a beatdown, and really, at this point, it’s just to put you out of your misery.

 

Jack shrugs, clearly done with his opponent.

 

Jack: Think of this match, as an act of mercy, Vinnie. That’s all you really need to do. This match is just me, beating your ass and moving on, and you, finally being relegated to where you belong. Trust me, you’re not going to be the first one who goes through this process, and you damn sure won’t be the last. It’s a simple service I am providing you. It will be the easiest thing in the world to accept when it’s all said and done. You’re going to lose and then we don’t have to continue this silly little fairy tale you may be thinking about in that screwed up brain of yours. You don’t get the happy ending, you don’t win in the end, the hero doesn’t rise up and slay the bad guy. No, this is just a dose of reality. The reality that you and I are on different levels and this is just the proof. We are past a year ago, we’re past six months ago. The facts are in, the evidence is staring you right in the face and this is just where it all hits you. If you believe yourself to be a contender for my championship, this will be your reality check. 

 

 

And since you’re into this type of thing Vinnie, let me give you some advice. Just, because I want people to understand, that while I am an asshole, and while I will do anything to get to the top, I’m not heartless. Just understand Vinnie, it’s easier to be quiet and be thought a fool, then to open your mouth and remove all doubt. I will, beat the hell out of you Vinnie, don’t think for one second that I am not out to put your ass down, don’t make that mistake Vinnie. I don’t play games like that and you know it. But in case you forgot, Sunday, I will re-educate you the way David Shepard should have.

 

 

Oh, and before I forget, Goth, it seems you won the ultimate prize of getting your ass whooped at Into the Void against me. And I know I don’t really check twitter because I’m not a keyboard warrior like some of these clowns, but I’m almost positive I saw you tweeting about me like I give a shit. But then, when I checked again, you had apparently deleted it. That’s good. All that win really did for you, was put you in my crosshairs. And if you want to pay attention to what I do to Vinnie, you can take that back to your little group of loser friends and understand that what happens to Vinnie, and what has happened to everyone else is exactly what’s going to happen to you. You are not special. You are just next. Your big win, will turn into just another embarrassing loss. So, like your deleted tweet, I hope you keep your words real soft and sweet, because I will make sure I make you regret every single word.

 

There, we’re done here. Pay attention, Goth. And Vinnie, I’ll see you Sunday, you fucking loser.

 

Jack dismisses the camera as the scene fades.