Prologue:
Jack was indeed victorious at Inception two weeks ago, beating Brandon Hendrix and he is now the number one contender for the Internet championship. Though in his own mind, Jack thought this was beneath him, as he was already a former two-time SCW world champion. Jack almost saw this a demotion. But none the less, he won the match, and now is signed up for the Blast From the Past Tournament and is teaming with Krystal Wolfe. This was also seen as a bizarre choice for Jack, who isn’t the most liked, or the friendliest person in SCW, and basically gets alone with absolutely no one. There aren’t many who even tolerate Jack, and he likes them even less. So, one must wonder how in the world Jack is going to be able to co-exist with anyone in SCW for any length of time, much less the amount of time and teamwork it will take to get to the finals?!
Outside the ring, Jack brought Jason home after he recovered from his injuries at the hands of the Mexicans. Jack is now bound and determined to protect his brother from this kind of thing happening again. Jack has called upon Bobby, who has been working behind the scenes recently and out of the main picture, to help Jack get what he called “protection.” Could it be that Jack is going to start his own army to better compete? Jack knows full well the Mexicans will be back, and he also knows they know where he lives. Jack is not about to be a prisoner is his own home, especially not with family there. --
Washington Estate
Las Vegas, NV.
It’s morning and Jack is sitting on the couch on his phone, all the while going over casino documents that he has to look over. Jason sits at the table eating some toast, while Brian of course puffs away on a cigar reading the newspaper. There is silence as each man does their own thing, until Jason looks over at Jack with a curious look and pointing to get Jack’s attention.
Jason: Hey Bro, how come you’re in that wrestling tournament thing?
Jack broke his gaze as Jason caught his attention.
Jack: I don’t know, why?
Jason: Just curious man, you don’t really trust anybody.
Jack: And it’s worked out pretty well for me.
Jason: How do you hang out with them anyway?
Jack: I don’t. I go, I do my job, and I leave. I don’t spend any more time with those people than I have to. It’s just how things are.
Jason: I don’t get why you do it in the first place.
Jack: Money. I make good money.
Jason: I guess that’s a good enough reason as any, right?
Jack: You’re damn right.
Brian: Stick just wanted to do something different, like you.
Jason: I guess. I liked some of the people I was in the Army with though. Most of them were good people.
Jack: If wrestling was like the Army, then maybe it would work for you.
Jason: Nah, dude, I’m already feeling the effects of everything. In case you haven’t noticed.
Jack wanted to say something, but sighed heavily, he tried to go back to his documents, but now the whole mood was ruined. Thankfully there was a saving grace as Bobby knocked on the door. Brian peered over the newspaper and noticed him.
Brian: Bobby’s here.
Jack slowly got up, and went to the door, opening it with Bobby standing there with a rather large person.
Bobby: Oh, hey... hey Jack, I think I found some guys who can help you out.
Jack: Yeah, no shit.
Jack looked the man up and down. He was bald and built, wearing a hooded sweatshirt and black jeans. He glared at Jack, who glared back.
Jack: Okay, big man, what’s your story.
Bobby: Oh, his name is Eric.
Jack: Thanks, okay, Eric, same question.
Eric: Your boy asked me to help, I’m available if you need help.
Jack: Is that right? How many guys you got?
Eric: Enough.
Jack: Blunt, I see.
Eric: I don’t like my time or efforts being wasted. I’m available to help if you want help. It’s that simple.
Jack: Yeah? Alright, let me tell you how this works. Inside, is my brother, and my uncle. And I have some people who are not very nice people who may want to do my family some harm.
Eric: Sound tragic.
Jack: Yeah. So, I need some people who can make sure that my brother doesn’t get mixed up in what I’m doing, and no harm comes to him.
Eric: Anything else?
Jack: Yeah, they know where I live, and as soon as they have figured their situation out, they will be back. And they will come for this family.
Eric: I don’t need a personal attachment. You’re hiring me for a job, right? Fine. I can do it.
Jack: So, you’re not afraid to get dirty, then?
Eric leaned in, cocking his head to the side.
Eric: Do I look clean to you?
Jack nodded and smirked.
Jack: I like this guy. Alright, you’re hired. Now, my brother works at my casino. I can give you some work there, but primarily, you’ll be here, or your boys need to be here.
Eric: Fair enough. Is that it?
Jack: That’s it, if you can handle it.
Eric laughed, but it was an uncomfortably evil laugh.
Eric: Yeah, I can.
Jack: Good. I’ll have Bobby set everything up for you. You just... do your thing, and we won’t have any problems. Are you with a company or something?
Eric: No. I’m... freelance. I work for myself. And I am damn good at my job.
Jack: What are you working with?
Eric: Whatever I got. Now, if you’re asking if I got rocket launchers or something, I don’t do that. I got what I got, and that’s all I need.
Jack: You sure?
Eric: Positive.
Jack: Good. Good. Alright, Bobby, get him, and his boys situated.
Bobby: You got it, Jack.
Jack stuck out his hand, which was rare for him to do. Eric stared at it for a moment, and also quite reluctantly, he shook Jack’s hand. It was probably the most uncomfortable handshake you’d ever see. Bobby led Eric away, and Jack went back inside. Brian was there, to watch as Bobby and Eric drove away.
Brian: That’s a big motherfucker.
Jack: That’s what I need.
Brian: If you say so.
Jason: What was that about?
Jack: Protection, Jay. Protection.
Jason: From what? Bigfoot?
Jack: Something like that.
Jason: That dude is pretty big.
Jack: We’ll need him.
Jason: Wait... is this about me?
Jack: It’s about you, and Brian.
Jason: Do we need protection like that?
Jack: I think we do, so that’s what we’re doing. There’s a lot of people out there and I have too many uneasy relationships. I don’t need anything else bad happening to either one of you. It’s my fault you were in the hospital to begin with. I want to make sure that never happens again.
Jason: You don’t have to do that.
Jack: Yes, I do.
Brian: I will not object to having some people around that can do the dirty work for you. The only question is... do you trust him?
Jack: Not. At. All. Just the way I like it.
--
Washington Estate
Las Vegas, NV.
It was late at night at Jack had just finished working out, and he sat at the kitchen table preparing a late night meal of chicken breasts as Jason came into the room and sat at the table, staring at Jack.
Jack: What?
Jason: I think we need to talk, bro.
Jack: About what?
Jason: You hiring bodyguards or whatever the fuck they are.
Jack: I’m doing it for you.
Jason: You don’t see what you’re doing?
Jack: Protecting my family.
Jason: No, you’re turning into dad.
Jack: Dad flipped on all of us, and got our family kicked out of Philly, Jay. You didn’t see it, you weren’t there. I’m doing what I have to do, to ensure that we survive.
Jason: By bringing some fucking goons in? This isn’t Philly, and you said yourself you don’t even trust the guy.
Jack: You’re right. But, I don’t have to trust him, I’m paying him. He works for money, that’s all he cares about.
Jason: But you don’t trust anybody anyway. So why even bother with this? Do we really need this right now?
Jack: Look, Brian knows the dangers of this shit, Jason. You don’t. You went into the Army to get away from what this life is. And I pulled you in. I got you hurt and I feel like fucking shit because of it. You were supposed to stay out of this. Stay away and go have a life somewhere else with someone else and be the one person in our family that wasn’t part of this bullshit. And now, I’m to blame for it happening. So, it’s now my job, to make sure that you are taken care of, and I make up for what happened.
Jason: You’re never going to be able to make up for it. But my scars will heal. I’ll be alright. But I need to know something, Bro.
Jack: Which is?
Jason: Do you trust me?
Jack was taken aback by the question. He just stared at Jason for what seemed like a full minute before answering him.
Jack: You are one of the few I do trust, because you’re my brother.
Jason: Do you trust Brian?
Jack: About as far as I can throw him, but Brian is also family. He has his faults, but when you were gone, he held it together and made sense of everything. He’s good to have around.
Jason: Then... that’s all we need.
Jack again stopped and stared at Jason. Once he realized what Jason was getting at, he stood up and shook his head.
Jack: No, no Jay, that’s NOT going to happen.
Jason: You trust me, you trust Brian. But shit bro, you’ve been making deals with people you don’t trust. The Mexicans, Benny, that other dude running his own casino, and now this fucking hulk dude. You didn’t know any of them, and you made deals. I’m your brother and you’re telling me no?
Jack: YOU AREN’T SUPPOSED TO BE IN THIS!
Jason stood up, taking off his shirt to reveal the still healing bruises and scars on his body.
Jason: I think I’m in this now, Jack, don’t you?
Jack stood silent as Jason sat back down after putting his shirt back on. Jack turned away from his brother, sighing and refusing to accept this as a possible outcome, but he knew that Jason had a point.
Jack: I can’t watch my big brother get into this shit. I can’t.
Jason: I’m in it, whether you like it or not. I kept my mouth shut when shit was going down right in front of me. I damn near died for you. If you can’t trust me, who the FUCK can you trust?
Jack stared at his brother and sat back down, staring at the table instead of making eye contact. He really felt awful and look at Jason with a serious face.
Jack: You understand what all this means, right? I mean, you get that we’re doing some shit now and we’ve got some enemies now that are out to kill us if they get a shot to do it, right? Are you really sure, you want to get into this? I’m telling you now, this shit isn’t a game. Please, just think about this.
Jason: I did. I’m in.
Jason stood up, and Jack stood up as well, and the two brothers embraced.
--
ON CAMERA:
Click. Jack this week actually has a cocky grin on his face, the kind that makes you want to punch him in the face. He is rather pleased with himself, as he begins now with words, but with a shrug.
Jack: I told you that Brandon Hendrix was a waste of my time and effort, and I was proven, once again, to be right. I’m almost tired of being right, but it’s more ammo for me for future use. Yes, it is true, that I am now the number one contender for the Internet championship, and I have no doubts in my mind that I will be the Internet champion soon enough. I will do what I should have done a couple of months ago, and become the Internet champion, but now, you see, there is an added bonus. Now, I get to take that title from that piece of trash, Ken Davison. Ken already ran his mouth after that random ass fatal four-way when he snuck in like a thief in the night and stole my victory from me. He even said so himself. He knows what he did, and payback is coming soon enough, when I relieve him of the Internet championship.
Now, onto matters at hand, because that another story for another time. Jack’s grin disappears as he shakes his head.
Jack: I wondered aloud to myself why I even bothered entering this little Blast From The Past tournament, because let’s just call a spade a spade, I don’t play well with others. Especially when it’s people who obviously cannot pull their own weight. I have tried, very hard, as the face of this franchise, to be a leader, but when you have shitty followers, it makes my job harder. I can only do so much around here. But what this is about is mostly not only winning the Internet championship down the road, but also having an SCW world championship match in my back pocket, and assuming the cowboy makes it through and doesn’t end up losing the championship along the way, I will do what I did before and beat him, and have BOTH championships right there for me. I can easily do that, as I have proven over the 2 years I have been here. I made my actual debut in this tournament, and wiped the floor with a hall of famer, before my partner let me down in the second round. So, yeah, I have my doubts and an obvious reason not to depend on anybody but myself to get the job done. Because that’s how I do things. I have been burned way too many times to sit here and think that anyone has my back, because I have talked shit about each and every person in this company. They don’t have to like me, because I sure as shit don’t like any of them. I do things on my own, because all these other people will let me down. So, I am taking a giant risk by putting any sort of trust in anybody else.
Now, they pair me up with Krystal Wolfe, and I’ll be honest, I wasn’t thrilled about the whole thing, Krystal Wolfe is newer here, and she’s sitting there the Bombshell’s Roulette champion, which isn’t really impressive, outside of the fact that she keeps winning. If she wasn’t focused on learning guitar or whatever it is that she does, she might actually be able to be a decent player on my team. But I’m not about to sit around and wait on her to actually put her potential on display, that shit has be out day 1 of this tournament and that’s this Sunday. I’m giving her the ball, and I expect her to run with it, you can’t be out here fumbling the ball when I give it to you. You need to reward what little faith I’m going to put into you, if you want to have any hope around here. The point here is, I don’t like her, and she doesn’t need to like me. In fact, we don’t need to like each other at all. Not in the slightest. All that has to happen, is that Krystal simply needs to pull her weight. Just don’t fuck it up, and we’ll be fine. This is about getting ME to the position I should already be in. I don’t give a flying fuck if Krystal Wolfe gets anything out it, and then she falls flat on her face if she gets a Bombshell’s title match. Just, for this tournament, she has to be great. Right now, she’s alright, but this tournament is about rising to the occasion, and I had shit partner last time. So, the ball is squarely in Krystal’s court to hold up her end.
If Krystal has any doubts about my end of this, let’s just put that to bed now. Last time, I didn’t even NEED to win this tournament and I still won the SCW World championship TWICE. I have proven time and time again that I am everything I say I am, and I have backed up everything I say I am. It’s not me who has to prove anything to anyone. I’ve already done more than several Hall of Fame wrestlers in this company, and I did it faster than almost anyone too. So, if anyone thinks for one second that I’m not ready, I will continue to shut you up, just like I have been doing this entire time. People doubted me, and doubted that I could do what I said I would do, and in the end, they ate a big ass plate of crow. People said I was too brash, too cocky, too full of myself. I have shown I have literally every single right to be all that, and then some. I talk a big game, and I have backed it up. So, please, you all can spare me this nonsense about whether or not 2022 is going to be my year, or if I have can continue what I did in 2021 and 2020. Look at how I took apart that jacked up clown Brandon Hendrix, and really, I wasn’t even trying. I mean, I am literally 24 years old and I’m already at the very top of my game, and the scary part is, I will get BETTER. Yeah, think about that. Jack points to his head as he continues.
Jack: Anyway, that brings me to this match, and the big goof, the Supreme Machine. First of all, Jesus Christ that name is terrible. Could you not think of a better name than that? I mean, that couldn’t have even sound good in your fucked up head. It’s really fucking dumb and I know that some 15-year-old neckbeard somewhere sitting in his mom’s basement drinking Fanta and eating a whole party-sized bag of Doritos thinks you’re really cool and mysterious and all that. I am not that guy. I think your name is stupid, and teaming with Mac Bane and Ken Davison is even more stupid than that. You decided to put yourself behind a mask, and take orders from these two idiots? And then you call your little group “The Saviors” I mean, my god, the three of you could not be any lamer unless you called yourselves “Wolfslair” But that’s another story. But I have a question and maybe you can answer this, since you fit the bill. What is it with big goofs like you, who need to be so edgy and talk about violence and tearing of flesh and all that other bullshit like it’s a fucking fetish? You wanna go take people out? Go start some fights in the streets.
But if you think for one second that I give two shits about your past, and oh, I was tortured, I was beaten, and I don’t have any humanity left. It sounds like the track list of a band from cool in 2004. Oh, nobody understands me, whaa! I’m a monster now! Look what they did to me! Whaa! I couldn’t care less about what happened to you, or how you became what you became. It’s all just a big cover for hiding your ugly face and doing something to get yourself attention because without it, you’d be just another big goof in a mask, walking around and mutilating yourself because it makes you feel good. It’s that the thing, right? You enjoy pain? You like feeling the pain, do you feel the most alive at the moment of death? People say that because they have cancer or some shit, and here you are, trying to play it off like it’s just a cool thing to say.
Well, I tell you what, Big time. You come to the ring at Climax Control, and you step into it with me, I will beat your ass just the same as anybody else. You don’t scare me, and you don’t intimidate me. Do you know who the hell I am? Have you not watched SCW since I've been here? Of course, you have. Then again, maybe you’re too busy having “me time” and wallowing in self-pity. But as you should have been watching me in SCW, I don’t give a rat’s ass who you are, what you look like, or how tough you think you are. I’ve trashed and dismantled more successful assholes then you and I’ve been doing that for at least 4 years at this point. So don’t sit there and think you’re special because you put on a stupid mask and talk like you’re still having a lifelong battle with throat cancer. The point is, I will trash you, just like any other man who gets in my way. It don’t give a damn about you, or your past, or what made you what you are today. It’s all a sad story, a sob story that people only pretend to care about, and do you know why? Because it’s every other stupid teenager’s life story too. You’re not special my guy. And you’re going to find out just how sad and pathetic you are when I drop your ass and I win this match. I am at the top of this food chain, you fucking creatin. I beat the shit out of your leader, I WILL beat the shit out of the bald goober Ken Davison and I most certainly will beat you big, wannabe scary ass too.
You’re just going to be the first, so don’t feel bad, or... I don’t know, feel bad, or worse? I don’t know, does anything make you happy? And I swear if you sit there and say hurting people, I might just smack you out of sheer principle. Get it through your head you jackoff, this isn’t about blood and guts to those who matter. You wanna go spill your blood and cut yourself up and all that, do it somewhere else. Because you when step into MY ring? When you stand across from me? That shit isn’t going to fly. If you want to take this to the streets, where there are no rules and we can do all that stupid shit? All you gotta do is name a time and a place. But this match here, isn’t about that, so don’t try and get cute and bring some barbed wire board or some shit to the ring and try and kill me. Though, I mean, all things considered, it would be your best option for actually beating me in a fight. But then again, I don’t play fair either. I play to win, and I do so by any means necessary. But, I’m not out to maim you, I mean, you do that shit all by yourself. I’m just going to beat your ass, and then once I win this match for my team, you will be in the rear view mirror and maybe, unlike the rest of the clowns here, you’ll actually take my words to heart and actually try and be something instead... whatever the hell you’re supposed to be now.
I’ve been trying to help people for a long time around here and nobody gets it. Don’t give somebody like me all the ammo in the gun to shoot you with, because I will shoot, and I won’t miss. Jack mimics a pistol shooting at the camera before continuing.
Jack: As far as Sam Marlowe goes? Look, I’m going to let Krystal or Crystal, or whoever handle that. She stays out of my way, we won’t have problems. It’s a whole other reason I was hesitant to even do this in the first place. I’ve have nothing but women disrespecting me in this company and I know it’s only going to continue. So if my partner, does her job, like she’s supposed to, we won’t have any problems, and we’ll move on to the next round. Simple as that.
Now then, let’s get this tournament underway, because you’re looking at the winner. I mean, I guess Krystal can win too, sure, whatever. I don’t care about that. I care about me. This is about me. Yes, I’m cocky. I am self-centered. Duh. It’s not new. It’s who I am, and there’s two things you can do about it:
Nothing, and like it.
Jack dismisses the camera and just like that, we cut to black.
Click. TAKING. BACK. WHAT'S. MINE.
