[Jack Washington]

 <span style=\'font-family:arial\'>Prologue:

Jack returned from the Summer XXXtreme cruise a satisfied man. He felt that after all this, he was on his way to an SCW championship match after a great performance against Ben Jordan. His continued ability to impress people in high positions was getting him noticed and he enjoyed that, more so on the inside. He was confident in his ability and that when he decided to go for broke. He appeared on Climax Control and challenged the new SCW Champion Griffin Hawkins. Jack was in firm belief that he had done enough to deserve this opportunity.

Griffin Hawkins accepted this, and Jack now had set his sights on defeating him and becoming the SCW world champion at Violent Conduct.

However, Hawkins lost the SCW championship to Alex Jones in his first defense, complicating the championship picture. Jack was annoyed by this, because now he would have to answer more questions about if he was still in the championship picture and what the future held. To Jack, it didn’t matter who was champion, just so long as he received what he believed he had earned.

Outside the ring, Jack still had some projects under construction on the Flamingo that he had left in the hands of his uncle Brian while he was away. Jack knew that while it was in good hands from a business perspective, it was still his, and Brian couldn’t always be trusted. Jack knew that he needed to be a stable voice in this endeavor, because otherwise it could all go downhill, there were still people breathing down his neck, and people who wanted him to fail, and some who may have been wanted him dead and out of the way. Jack still had to be on his toes, but he still needed to be savvy when it came to what he needed to do to get the business actually up and running.
--

<span style=\'font-family:tahoma\'>The Flamingo Grand Plaza
Las Vegas, NV
Two weeks ago</span>

Jack had returned and sat at his desk looking over papers and checking to see what happened while he was away. His uncle Brian stood, looking out at the newly renovated casino floor, a pleased look on his face.

Jack: Is this all in order?

Brian: It will be. Just gotta meet with the licensing commissioner.

Jack: Well… shit… things are going well.

Brian: I told you that you could trust me, Stick.

Jack: About as far as I can throw you.

Brian: You’ve got big muscles, bet you could throw me far.

Jack: Not far enough.

Brian: Cut me deep, Stick.

Jack: Not deep enough.

Jack continued to look at the papers, and then finally there was a knock at the door, and the new office phones were in working order as the phone rang.

Jack: Yeah.

Bobby: Jack, the commissioner is here.

Jack: Send him in.

There is a click on the phone and the door opened. A man in a large white cowboy hat entered, his teenage son right along with him. His face greying with age, but he still had pep in his step. He smiled widely as Jack stood up and the two shook hands. Jack looked at the man’s attire and realized he had plenty of money. Jack looked at the soon who appeared to be staring off into space. Jack was puzzled by this, but still needed to continue to be a professional.

Jack: I’m Jack Washington.

Man: Oh, I know that Mr. Washington, lots of paperwork coming from here with your name on it. I’m Ted Anderson.

Jack: It’s good to meet you.

Ted: I appreciate you taking the time to see me when you’re trying to get all this taken care of.

Jack: It’s my pleasure, So… what can I do for you?

Jack looked over at Brian, and cleared his throat.

Jack: Sorry, this is my uncle Brian, he was looking over the place while I was out of town. So you may have dealt with him on the phone.

Ted: I did, how are you sir?

Brian: I’m well. Good day to make some good business happen.

Ted: Yes, sir, I believe so.

Ted finally did sit down, his giant gold belt buckle not prominent.

Ted: Thank you both kindly for this. Now, you’ve got a nice little place here, and I am a man who values the American dream. I don’t want to deny you any licenses or permits or anything like that. But there are some people around here who seems to be not too friendly when it comes to you getting this here business off the ground.

Brian: Competition breeds some less than happy competitors when you win.

Jack: We were just quicker on the draw with the purchase and renovation of this place. Just a side effect of progress.

Ted: Very much so. Now, I’m obviously going to have do an inspection of your facility once you get everything squared away. I trust that there’s not going to be anything that’s going to be prevent this place from passing from the guidelines?

Jack: There shouldn’t be. We don’t have anything to hide here, Mr. Anderson.

Ted:  That’s good to hear, now. I can of course make this an easier time for you. People around here do a lot of business, and we want business to be good. So, I was thinking that, maybe, we could talk about something that’s near and dear to my heart, and that’s my son here.

Jack: What about him?

Ted: My son could use a job. You know, give me a little experience doing something that he wants to do. He’s always been interested in the family business.

Jack: And how does that pertain to me? You want me to hire him?

Ted: I would consider it a personal favor.

Jack looked at Ted’s son with a suspicious eye. The boy hadn’t moved a muscle since he entered the room. He had sat quietly, staring at the wall, completely oblivious to his surroundings.

Jack: What can he do?

Ted: He can do anything you ask.

Jack: Is… uh… is something wrong with him?

Ted: What do you mean?

Ted had straighten up in his chair. Now it was getting tense. Jack had to choose his next words carefully.

Jack: He doesn’t seem to talk much. He just seem preoccupied.

Ted: Well, yes, he isn’t much of a talker, but if you give him an order, he’ll do it.

Jack: I don’t know about this. I mean, I intend to run a tight ship here, Mr. Anderson. All within the rules and regulations obviously. But communication is key. I need to know that he can be trusted not just to carry out orders, but to be part of a team. I intend to build a team.

Ted: I consider little Danny here to be… independent. He can do that kind of work.

Jack pondered this, all the while noticing that Danny still wasn’t moving, or speaking.

Jack: I don’t know if that’s really a fit here, Mr. Anderson. Look, I’m not trying to be offensive, or disrespectful, I very much would like to do business with you, and get this place up and running without a hitch. I am just not sure that Danny here is really the type I am looking for.

Ted again straightened himself out. He cleared his throat and fixed his suit jacket to straighten it out.

Ted: Now, before we go dismissing the idea of Danny, let me just let it be known that I would consider it a personal favor, and means to expedite things through to get you on your way.

Jack: I appreciate who you are, and who he is. I like to do favors for people, and I’d like to help you, but the facts of the matter are, I don’t know your son well enough to trust him, and I have to know that in times that require it that he can be trusted to make the right decision. I’m sure he’s a great listener and all, but the idea that he just needs to be left alone after being given orders isn’t a smart business move.

Jack could see Brian licking his lips and giving sutble head movements in Jack’s direction. Jack tried to keep his gaze on Ted, as he sighs and removed his hat.

Ted: Before we… completely go off track, Do you maybe think that down the line, you could maybe find something for him.

Jack: It’s…

Brian finally stepped in, placing his hands on the desk.

Brian: That’s a fine boy you got there. I’m sure we’ll have something down the road. It’s just that what Jack here really means is that we’ve got a lot of things that are yet to be…completed, let’s say. Once everything is in place, I’m sure we’ll be able to find something for Danny there to do, that he can excel at. Jack’s just not thinking about long term, that’s the hesitation.

Ted arches a brow and nods.

Jack: It’s really about the lack of positions that could fit his skill set. At the moment, but in the future, we may have just the spot for him.

Ted: Well… I appreciate you’re going to take that into consideration. I look forward to a long and healthy relationship. I think that can wrap up our business for now, I’ll have my office schedule an inspection real soon. I’ll let you gentlemen to it.

Ted stands up and shakes hands with Brian and Jack, before simply taking Danny by the hand and guiding him out of the room. After a few minutes, the door closes and Brian sighs, running his fingers through his hair and shaking his head.

Brian: You gotta be smarter than that, Stick.

Jack: What are you talking about?

Brian: You gotta read between the lines. That man spelled it out for you, and you always messed it up.

Jack: What, by not hiring his kid? You saw that kid right? Kid looked like a psycho.

Brian: That kid could save you a lot of trouble. This is about the long run of this, not the short term.

Jack: I’m just saying hiring the kid isn’t going to make people want to come here.

Brian: It will make plenty of people you want here, to come here. Kid, I’m doing you a favor.

Jack:  That kid’s gonna murder somebody. He’s a freak.

Brian: Yeah… but he’s someone we need. Having the commish on our side… it’ll pay off.

Jack: I don’t know man.

Brian:  Trust me, Stick. That’s a favor, you’re going to want to have down the road.

Jack shrugs.

Jack: If you say so..
--
<span style=\'font-family:tahoma\'>The Flamingo Grand Plaza
Las Vegas, NV
Monday</span>



Jack once again sat at his desk, and his office phone rang again. He pushed the intercom.

Jack: Yeah?

Bobby: Yo, Jack… the lady and the Mexicans are back.

Jack closed his eyes and sighed.

Jack: Send Ms. Ana Sofia in.

It isn’t two seconds before Ana Sofia has entered the room. Jack stood up and greeted Ana, who was accompanied by her body guards.

Jack: Well… Mrs. Medina, what can I do for you today.

Ana Sofia: You have made progress, si?

Jack: Yes, we have.

Ana Sofia: Then you are ready to make a deal, si?

Jack: Whoa, whoa, Mrs. Medina, we’ve made progress, yes. But if you’re boys start coming around and the people see that, they might get a little suspicious. Nobody wants that. We want to make sure that having a deal, means that we can have a deal without a problem. Smooth.

Ana Sofia: We need a location to move our product from.

Jack: I understand that. I want to accommodate you. I do. I would love to do business with you, but right now, we simply don’t have the space.

Ana Sofia: Then perhaps we take our business elsewhere, no?

Jack: Now, now… you came to me, and I agreed after we made progress we would talk about a deal. But there’s too many eyes right now. It would be bad for you, and bad for me. Progress sometimes is a slow process. But I assure you, we are making progress. Now, if you want to go somewhere else, where maybe people have some progress, and maybe they’ve got somewhere to host you, but they’ve also got some people who will ruin your business, and maybe try and take some business from you… you can do that. You can walk right out that door and never come back, and we can go our separate ways.

Ana Sofia eyes Jack suspiciously.

Jack: But, you know a good thing when you see it. You know that I am willing to help you. You just have to let me get the people I don’t know if I can trust out of the way, and we can progress to the point where we don’t need to worry about anything getting in the way. That’s guaranteed here. Nowhere else. The choice is really yours, Mrs. Medina.

Ana Sofia stands there for a few moments, pondering and thinking about her decision. She eventually smirks.

Ana Sofia: Okay Mr. Jack, I believe you. We can do business, but I need to know that you are true in what you say.

Jack: You can believe that.

Ana Sofia: I need you to do us a favor.

Jack:  Oh really?

Ana Sofia: Si. We have a problem that needs to be … how do you say it… taken care of?

Jack: What kind of problem?

Ana Sofia: There is a car. Parked in a garage not far from here. It needs to… disappear.

Jack: So just… have it crushed or something.

Ana Sofia: The perros, they are looking for this car. They know my men, they drive it. You drive the car, and get rid of it, and what’s inside.

Jack: What’s inside?

Ana Sofia: Basura.

Jack: And what am I supposed to do to get rid of it?

Ana Sofia: I don’t know, but I do hear a lot of things get lost in the desert, Mr. Jack. 

Jack: … I see.

Ana Sofia: You do this for us, you tell us when you’re ready, and… maybe there is more in it for you.

Jack sat back and gave it thought. He knew what the Mexicans were capable of and really, it wouldn’t be smart to have them as enemies.

Jack: I’ll look into the car.

Ana Sofia: Here is photo.

Ana Sofia pulls out a phone and displays the picture of a green Dodge Stratus. Jack nods.

Jack: I’ll take care of it.

Ana Sofia hands Jack a slip of paper.
Ana Sofia:  This is the address, and the number. Call this number when you are finished. We will verify.

Jack: Of course.

Jack takes the slip of paper and places it in his pocket. Ana Sofia then hands him a single car key.

Ana Sofia: Do this favor for us. We will speak again soon.

With that, Ana Sofia takes her leave, her bodyguards follow her out and Jack is left alone. He sits back down at the desk ponders his choice, and exactly what he has gotten himself into.
--
<span style=\'font-family:tahoma\'>
Freemont Street Experience Parking Garage
Las Vegas, NV
The Next Day</span>

Jack didn’t want to do this, but he knew that entrusting someone else to do it, could be seen as a bad move. He was also aware this could be a set up. He pulled out his phone once he was in the garage and texted Bobby

In the garage. Green Stratus, follow me.

Jack quickly placed his phone back in his pocket and looked around the car. He saw nothing out of the ordinary that would make him think that was anything other than a car. Trying not to look too suspicious, he was satisfied entered the car. It was mostly empty aside from some wrappers and other garbage that had no use. In the back were two shovels, and a gas can along with some cloth. He was curious as what they were for, but he wasn’t about to call and ask. Honestly, if he wasn’t getting rid of this car, he saw that it could have uses. It made him more suspicious that this was a setup of some kind. He used the key and turned the car on, holding his breath.

Nothing. It didn’t explode,

Jack was again suspicious but pulled the car out of the spot, and looked around. Nothing. This was getting weirder by the moment. Jack drove the car out of the lot, paying the $5 and driving the car onto the Las Vegas streets. Jack was told this needed to disappear in the desert, so, he headed for the Mojave.

It took a little bit, but eventually, he was on the lonely highway, and there weren’t many cars in sight. He drove along at a hurried pace, but not rapid. He didn’t want to attract any unwanted attention.

That’s when he heard the thumps.

Jack: Fuck.

Jack closed his eyes, angry that perhaps this was their plan. Get Jack out of town, and leave him stranded. Reception would be terrible in the desert. He pulled off to the side of the road. He put the car in park and slowly got out. He examined all four tires, but found that none of them were flat. Bobby was trailing in his Chevy pickup and pulled off as well.

Bobby: What is it?

Jack: I don’t know. Heard some thumps. Thought it might be a flat. Doesn’t look like it though. Maybe I just hit a speed bump. Whatever. Keep close.

Jack made it back to the car and started it up. He drove on a little more and then the bump started again. Jack looked around and decided that this would was as good as any other place. He pulled off and drove into the desert, a few miles off the road. It was out of site, and no one aside from Bobby was around. He continued to hear the thuds against the car, and now his suspicions were high. He stopped the car, and Bobby soon appears after him. He exited the car and looked around. Nothing was out of the ordinary.

Bobby: Is that it?

Jack: Yeah…

Bobby: What now?

Jack: You got your piece?

Bobby: Yeah.

Jack: Stay close.

Jack had to know what the thumps were and there was only one place he hadn’t checked. The trunk. He felt dumb for not doing it earlier. He slowly inched towards the trunk and placed the key in, and turned it. He lifted it up, and the source of the thumps was revealed.

Jack: Mother fucker.

Inside the trunk was a woman, duct tape over her mouth and bound. Her eyes pleaded for mercy as Bobby held back with the gun. Jack reached in and removed the duct tape from her mouth.

Woman: Please! Please sir! Mercy!  Dios Mio! Mercy!

Jack: Whoa, whoa! Calm down.  Who are you?

Woman: Marta. Marta Jimenez.

Jack: You wanna explain why you’re in this trunk?

Marta: They want to kill me! Please don’t kill me! I am sorry! I am so sorry!

Jack: CALM DOWN.

Marta: Please!

Jack: Look, I don’t know why you’re in this trunk, but I’m going to get rid of this car. Now, I don’t want to kill you. I just want to know that leaving you alive isn’t a bad move.

Marta: They… they just want me gone. I will go. Far away. Never come back here! Please just don’t kill me!

Jack: Let’s get you out of there.

Jack helped Marta out of the car, and untied her.

Jack: Bobby, get the gas, torch the car.

Bobby: Right.

Jack: Stay here.

Jack motioned to Marta and she complied. Jack and Bobby soon lit the car on fire, and then let it burn as they headed back to the Bobby’s pickup. Jack sat in the truck for a moment and then dialed the number.

Voice: Hello?

Jack: The car is gone.

Voice: Si… and the Basura?

Jack: Gone as well.

Voice: Si.

With that, there was an audible click and Jack shook his head.
Jack: Let’s go.

The pickup roared out of the desert and back into the highway without a scene. Jack pointed as the truck passed a rest stop.

Jack: Let her out here.

Marta: What? Here?

Jack: You wanted to live, right? Get out of here.

The truck pulled into the rest stop and Jack got out, leaving the door open for Marta.

Jack: Come on.

Marta eased her way out and hugged Jack.

Marta: Thank you. I won’t come back. I won’t. Ever.

Jack: Good.

Jack simply got back in the truck, and the chevy drove off, leaving Marta behind. They drove on, back to towards the city.

Bobby: What was that about?

Jack: It was a test.

Bobby: Shit man, what happens if they find her?

Jack: Hopefully they don’t, and she’s smart enoght to stay the fuck out of Vegas.

Bobby: I don’t know man, maybe they were looking for her.

Jack: Somebody probably, was, and somebody probably didn’t want her to be found.

Bobby: That’s a big fucking risk, man.

Jack: I know. I fucking know.

Bobby: If they find her and they put two and two together…

Jack: Looks, as far as we knew, there wasn’t a bitch in the trunk. We torched the car. End of story. That’s what I’m saying, and that’s what you’re going to say if it ever comes up.

Bobby: Yeah… yeah man, I got you.

Jack: The price of progress…. Fuck.

The pickup continued to drive, headed back to Vegas, where now Jack had done a favor for the Mexicans and the gambling commission. The question was… would it all pay off in the end?

--

Click.

Jack is sitting in his hotel chair, rubbing his face. The look of frustration is plastered all over his face, but there is a large dash of annoyance on his face as well.

Jack: I don’t get it. I’m not going to complain about Alex Jones winning the SCW world championship. Why does anyone think I give a rat’s ass about Alex Jones doing anything? Good for Alex Jones beating a paper champion. Griffin Hawkins proved he doesn’t have what it takes to be a good world champion. If Alex Jones is proud of that, then so be it. I don’t give a shit. Alex Jones is just happy that he’s relevant again. He can jizz all over himself for winning a championship he had no business getting a shot at in the first place. The sun shines on a dog’s ass sometimes.

Alex Jones was handed a chance, and he made the most of it. Good for him. Does he want a fucking cookie? At the end of the day, Alex Jones is simply keeping the title warm until I beat him. Or I beat Hawkins, or I beat them both. If Griffin Hawkins wants to stop crying and having his mascara run, he can get off his ass and ask for his precious rematch or whatever he wants to do. It makes no difference to me. If he wants to sit at home crying in his cherrio’s, then that’s fine to. At Violent Conduct, that’s where I am going after my title match. That’s where I made my challenge. And that’s where I want shot. That’s all there is to it. You want me give Alex Jones a round of applause? You want me to give Griffin Hawkins a crying towel? Nah. I’m good.

Jack simply shakes his head and sits up from his chair.

Jack: But that’s not-too-distant-future, not what’s up coming. What’s upcoming is the old Irish prick, O’Malley.

Jack almost smiles, but it turns into a look of mock pride

Jack: How about that? O’Malley headed my advice and now he’s done something. He finally took his balls out of his girlfriend’s purse and made a stand. He cashed in that briefcase or whatever and won a title, and then he managed to win another one. Ho-ly shit, son. The man has finally taken control of a situation rather than he be pussy-whipped his entire life. He’s actually got some personality too. God damn I think I’m a miracle worker sometimes. Still a little sensitive though. I mean, Why bother letting  Kris Halc get to you? Who cares who he fucking subtweets? That’s a pussy move and if he’s cool with that, so what? Let him do his pussy move. But instead O’Malley wants to subtweet back and they both wanna be internet tough guys and keyboard warriors. I halfway expect when they wrestle they’ll start fucking slap fighting.

And that’s just the bad part of this whole deal.  No O’Malley is tough guy. But that seems to be a running theme here doesn’t it? Alex Jones is god now or some shit, and O’Malley’s two title Charlie and he’s just cock of the fucking walk. Is it just championship’s go to everybody’s head or something? I mean, these jackoffs act like it gives them fucking superpowers. So, once again, I gotta be the guy who is real about the whole thing, don’t I?

Okay, here goes. O’Malley is still a chump who gets triggered that people don’t respect the way he won SCU championship, and think him winning some goofy pool match isn’t legit. And here’s out here crying about it. Whaa, these people don’t respect me, whaa, they don’t think I’m good. Whaa. This guy’s mean to me, whaa. Jesus Christ son, all you have to do is tell ‘em to fuck off and move on with the rest of your day. You have two titles, they don’t. That’s it, the end. What is this stick up your ass, gotta reply to the keyboard warriors and act tough in front of people bullshit? You are the fucking guy with two titles. Fucking act like it. Does it matter how you won? No. You do the fucking dirt to get results. That’s the truth, that’s reality, my guy.

An while I’m glad that my words finally reached you and you proved you at least have a little bit of a backbone, it’s not going to save you from this ass whooping that coming your way on Sunday.

Jack finally stands up from his chair, leaning forward on the desk in front of the camera.

Jack:  You may be a double champion, but you’re still the same old crybaby that you’ve always been. Nothing is ever good enough because you worry about what Ben Jordan says about you. You worry about what Kris Halc says about you. Why? Because you’re still an insecure little bitch. I’ve tried to get you to stand up and be a man. Own the shit you do. But you still wanna act like a bigger bitch than your wife. Seriously man, I asked you to take your balls of your wife’s purse, but you put ‘em right back in there once you actually did something.

So you know what you are now, O’Malley? Just a target. You got two titles, well what’s the going to do for me, when I beat your ass right in the middle of the damn ring. You’re lucky this isn’t a championship match in any way, because I’d take both of them from you at the snap of my fingers. But then again, you ain’t done shit with them anyway, and I got much bigger fish to fry. I have a damn world championship that I’ve set my sights on. I’ve already proven that I can hang with the most skilled champions in this company, and all you are, is a stepping stone for my on my path to being the damn world champion. That’s it. That’s your role. Accept it.

Jack smirks slightly moving away from the camera.

Jack: Because I know right now in the pit of your stomach, you’re dreading this match. You’re tore up with the fact that you’re going to get your ass beat and embarrassed and look like a chump, being a double champion and losing to me. I mean, I’m a rookie in SCW, my dude. You have two titles, and you’re the one biting your fucking fingernails and trying to think of some perfect comeback or cute little quote that you think I’ll bite on. You’re the only thinking about how to just get out of this without looking like a fool. I’ll tell you exactly how to do it O’Malley.

You show up, and you stand in that ring like a man. You take your ass whooping, like a man. You stand back up, and you walk away with the L, and move on with your day. I’d respect that more than anything. But those phony tough guy bullshit ain’t it, chief. You’re a lame ass dude and the evidence clearly shows it. So what you’re going to be, is simply my stepping stone. You will be the proof that I deserve what I already know I deserve and you can just accept it, and be in some garbage gimmick match while the real cream rises to the top. I mean, you call yourself the future of Sin City? Nah dude, you’re not the future of anything. I am the future, and I will prove it when I beat the hell out of you, and leaving you laying in the middle of the ring. It’s not personal son, it’s just business. You’re standing in the way of progress. And in life, you have three choices: Lead, follow, or get out of the way.

And let’s be honest, son, you’re not a leader, and no one wants you to follow them anywhere. So the best option you have, is to get out of the way.

But if you don’t want to get out of the way on your own, I will be more than happy to move you.

With that, Jack simply turns the camera off.

Cut to black.

Click.

Watch. This. Space