[Mark Ward]

Post all roleplays for this match here.
Limits: One roleplay per week per character - 10,000 word limit.
Good luck!

[Alex Jones]

Family is forever….
Dallas, Texas
13 Years Ago

He couldn’t hide his anger any more. His eyes kept trailing from the table, over the floor, and back again. His phone sitting on the table in front of him face down. Alex didn’t want to flick it over, he didn’t want to see the time. He just knew it would make him more angry. Six hours ago Dylan had left the house. Alex had tried to talk to him earlier that day, Charlie tried to talk to him earlier that day. But, Dylan didn’t want to listen. He left the house with tears in his eyes, his bloodshot eyes. His pupils were huge, he was clearly high. But Charlie had grabbed Alex, she told him not to worry. That Dylan would be back and he just needed to blow off steam.

But now the anger had taken over. Alex kept his hand on the table, his fingers moving up and down making a tapping noise as he would constantly look over at the front door. He reached forward flipping his phone, he realised it was 2 o’clock in the morning and there had not been a message, a phone call, a Facebook message. Nothing. Alex shook his head. He pushed the chair out from the table and got to his feet walking to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. He turned and sat back down, his knee bouncing like a nervous twitch.

There was a click, The door opened and Dylan stepped through. He could barely stand up straight, he held onto the door handle so he wouldn’t tip over. He turned, pulling the screen door shut, before walking around and shutting the large wooden door deadbolt and it closed. His breathing was heavy, his body was swaying. Alex shook his head and swallowed hard, pushing down his disappointment, his anger, his sadness.

Dylan didn’t even seem to realise Alex was there. His hand was shaking as it reached out for the wall. He used to steady himself as he moved towards the steps. Alex side and move forward putting his arm across the entryway. Dylan stopped, looked at Alex’s arm and then slowly turned to his brother. His eyes were even more blood shot than before, his pupils had overtaken everything. Alex sighed heavily and stepped back. His arms folded over his chest, Dylan went to take a step up but stopped.

He breathed heavily before turning and looking back at his brother again this time with anger in his eyes. [color-lightblue]“Don’t look at me like that.”[/color]

Dylan’s voice was low, almost like a growl. His teeth ground together as he tilted his head stepping closer to his brother. Even though Alex was older than Dylan his younger brother was still close to his size. At this young age of 22, Alex was still 6 foot tall and 225 pounds. But Dylan was only slightly shorter and 5 pounds lighter. Dylan was shaking. Shaking from anger. Shaking from the drugs. Alex swallowed, he closed his eyes and took a long deep breath. Then Dylan shoved him as hard as he could. Alex hit the corner of the wall, his eyes opened again and Dylan stepped forward.

“I told you to stay out of my life.” He yelled, Alex had no idea what to do. He just moved his arms over his chest and shook his head looking his brother right in the eye.

“I just wanted to make sure you got home safe D” Alex stayed calm. His voice was soft and calm. He put his hands up in a defensive position. It seemed to work for a moment Dylan’s heavy breathing slowing down. He turned and went to step up again to go upstairs. His foot slipped on the edge and Dylan went down onto the landing.

Alex stepped forward, reaching down to help his older brother on. But as he did Dylan stepped back and pulled his arm away throwing it sideways sending a picture frame flying off the wall to the floor smashing into a million pieces. “DON’T TOUCH ME!” Dylan screamed and shook his head putting his hand up. Alex took a few steps back putting his hands up again. He tilted his head to the side and sighed heavily not knowing what to do. Dylan started to breathe heavy again looking around. His eyes started filling with tears. “I don’t, I don’t know what I’m doing man…”

Dylan broke down. He dropped one knee. Alex had no idea what to do again his younger brother needed help. Alex slowly dropped down to one day next to him close enough that he could talk to Dylan but not close enough to set him off again. “D….this has to stop…” Alex reached out, he put his hand on Dylans shoulder. Dylan didn’t flinch, he didn’t lash out. He just cried.

After a few moments he looked up, Alex leaned forward pulling his younger brother to him. He wrapped his arms around him and gave him a pat on the back standing up and pulling his younger brother with him. “Help me…” Dylan’s voice was a whisper, loud enough for Alex to hear. Alex stepped back and smiled giving his younger brother a nod. Then, the light above them clicked on. Alex turned in at the top of the stairs was their sister Charlie.

Her eyes were soft, her hair was tied up in the back and she had just been rows from sleep. She walked down the steps and looked at them both, Dylan silently turned and gave his sister a small hug, he looked in her eyes and smiled “I’m sorry…” Charlie looked at Alex who gave her a small smile she then looked back at Dylan and gave him a hug, before putting her hand on his back leading him towards the stairs. Dylan took his time pulling himself up on the banister towards his room.

As soon as they heard the door close, Charlie turned her attention back to Alex who drank his bottle of water taking a deep relieved breath. “What the fuck happened?” Alex couldn’t help but laugh. He turned and sat down stretching out.

“I don’t know” it was the truth, Alex had no idea what it just transpired in front of him. From the anger and frustration, the lashing out and yelling. The fact that Alex feared for a moment that he would have to get physical with his own younger brother. But then just as suddenly as it came on it disappeared.

Charlie pulled out the chair sitting down across from him. “He apologised. Will he be ok? Kick this shit?”

Charlie's voice seems to go up in excitement. How eyes filled with promise and optimism. She seemed to be incredibly happy. Alex took a long deep breath and leaned forward clasping his hands together. “That little show meant nothing Charlie.” She went silent, she just stared at Alex who folded his arms back over his chest leaning back against the chair. “He’s an addict..he did that to disarm us….and I have no idea what to do.” 

Irrelevant.

The sun has just come up, slowly rising over the city of Dallas Texas. Alex Jones was not at home, he was not at the training facility where he spent most of his time now. New York City had been kind to him, he loved it, that’s where he lived with his wife and his kids. It’s where all of his trainees and friends congregated to sharpen the skills and perfect their craft.

But for his first championship defence, Alex needed to go somewhere else. To remind him of what he needed to do and who he was. He leaned down, the key sliding into the lock. He turned it and pulled up on the large metal rolling door. As it clicked at the top Alex smiled looking into the old warehouse where he began his journey.

“17 years. 17 years of blood sweat and tears. 17 years of travelling the world, being the best of what I do, and it all started in this room. it will be 18 years as of November. When I told my old man, he laughed. He thought it was some kind of joke. His firstborn son was going to go and become a performing professional wrestler. To be honest the old bastard would’ve doubted anything that I wanted to do. Now, don’t get it twisted this isn’t some kind of sob story where I’m going to put all of my daddy issues on the line for people to pity me or think that I’m some kind of hero for overcoming the bullshit that was my childhood.”

”No, this is me reminding myself of where I came from. This is me reminding myself of what I’ve been through and where I have been to earn my spot is one of the greatest professional wrestlers on the planet today. This is me reminding myself of why I am relevant now, in the past, and I will be forever in the future. I didn’t actually need the reminding, it’s just fun to go back and refresh ones own image and ego every so often.”

Alex stepped through, his heavy combat boots hit the concrete floor with a third each time he took a step. His black jeans pulled over the top of the boots with a button up white shirt over the top with the sleeves rolled to just beneath his elbows. His black hair tied back in a bun, sunglasses prepared for when he needed to walk back out sat on the top of his head as his eyes started around the large main room.

“This gym is nothing special. There’s nothing here that you haven’t seen in about two or three thousand other gyms around America, even more if you take into account the entire world. And trust me, I know all about the rest of the world. See while Jack Washington was nothing but a insolent child sucking on his mother‘s titty I was travelling the world.”

“I went from here, to Canada, down to Mexico, to Japan, to England. I went to all of those places to learn from the best of the best that I could find. I went down there to taking all of the information that I could about different wrestling styles. I learned, I listened, and I worked as hard as I could to become the best Alex Jones I could be. ” I won, I lost, I was embarrassed, and I embarrassed others. I had friends turn on me and beat me down, and I turned on friends. This is what you do in this business there is nothing different about it. It is a dog eat dog world and if you are too nice in this business? You’ll get eaten alive. But if you’re too big of a prick, everyone will be able to get you and rip your goddamn head off.”

“Not that I’ve ever cared about being hated.“

“I sold my soul to become a part of the dogs of war two years ago, I teamed with Billy Danielson and became a tag team champion, I went back to honor and I made the honor championship mean something again. And now I’ve come to sin city wrestling and through helping others become the best that they could be I have re-discovered that fire that I honestly thought I lost.”

Alex moved further into the gym, his hand reached out and his fingers danced along the canvas. The canvas of an old ring, the same one that he had first stepped foot in as an 18-year-old. A skinny kid who had no idea what he wanted to do once he actually learned the craft of professional wrestling.

“But sin city has helped reignite that.”

“Some people, have said that I have a god complex. That couldn’t be further from the truth. It just goes to show that there are some people in this company who honestly have no idea what it is to actually be successful and the weight that comes down across your shoulders. And there is a difference between being successful in being a champion. That is a lesson that O’Malley hasn’t learned, one that Jack Washington hasn’t learned.”

“When I first came to this company it was because I was angry. I was angry that Honor wrestling, a company that I put my heart and soul into and carried on my back for two years just shut up shop and closed. But, with hindsight being 20/20. Full disclosure, I was wrong. I can admit that I was wrong, I can admit that sin city has done more than an admirable job of living up to all of their promises to the talent that made the jump. This company, it’s the first one that has felt like home in about 10 years. WWH, PPW, IWF, even Honor. None of them actually felt like home. But sin city does. And I get it, you people are not used to seeing weird emotional shit from me. You’re not used to hearing me talk positive about a company or about the people who run it.”

“But, everything seems to have fallen into place with me becoming the world champion. And he is the big secret, the thing that people don’t seem to realise, I didn’t want the championship match straight away. Krieger and I lost the mixed tag team championships and I was fully prepared to earn my way up to facing Griffin Hawkins. I threw the challenge out there because I wanted him to know that I was on his fucking back. I want to know that the target right there between his shoulder blades was in my eye and I was sharpening up the knife to shove it in there and twist it.”

“Hey, I already told y’all I’ve turned on friends before and it will happen again”

Alex shot an arrogant grin. He moved through and around the ring before leaning down undoing his boots. He slid across the apron and got to his feet before wiping them off and stepping through the old ropes. Alex moved around the ring, he hit the ropes, ran across, hit them again before stopping in the centre and quickly changing direction. He smiled and ran his hand along the top right to the top turnbuckle. A four sided ring, the traditional one that was much different than the six sides that we see in sin city wrestling every week

“But, Jack Washington doesn’t have to worry about that. Because me and Jackie boy? We are not friends. We would never be friends. Our outlooks on life and the professional wrestling business are just too different. See, I’m a competitor. Anything I’m in, it doesn’t matter what I compete. On climate control, Jack had a chance to stamp his authority in a match and show the world that he deserved to be in the ring with me. He had a chance to show the world that young Jack Washington was going to fix the mistakes he made against Ben Jordan and was going to snatch the sin city wrestling world heavyweight championship off irrelevant Alex Jones.”

“I watch and study my opponents, I listen to what they have to say. Jack turns things off, because he’s too arrogant to know what he needs to do to become a champion. And that’s the problem Jack, you don’t know how to be a champion. I took this championship off of Griffin because I told him he didn’t have what it takes to be the top guy. The Internet or Roulette championships? They were a perfect fit for Griffin. I proved myself right and showed him where he needed to be, he couldn’t handle it and he quit. And now here you are making the same mistakes.“

“That tag match we had? It was a nice little test. It was a test to see where your head was that and whether or not you were worthy of holding this championship. And it was a test that you failed miserably Jack. You could’ve gone out there and you could’ve put your best foot forward and given it your all. And sure you can look back on it now and say that you tried and the team let you down and you can cry like a little bitch“

“But the sad fact is, you were the one who let them down.“

Alex leans on the top rope. His foot lifting and dancing on the bottom as he smiles to himself. The smell of the gym filling his nostrils and taking him back in time. Making him remember when he was a fresh faced rookie, he thought he knew everything. And through the years Alex has realised his mistakes. But even then he really hasn’t been the veteran that everyone believes him to be until about two years ago.

“You are a challenger for the world heavyweight championship. You could’ve shown leadership, I was saddled with a pair of shitty partners too. But unlike you, I led them to victory. And the worst part about it? You even said you weren’t going to give it your all. Running your mouth about house in city wrestling is a circus? Calling a champions versus challengers match “lame ass”? Why? Because you knew that you were going to lose because you couldn’t step up and actually be someone to lead anything?”

“Jack, how the fuck are you going to lead a company when you can’t even lead a team to victory?.”

“It’s pathetic really. I lead a team of champions. In fact by the time violent conduct ends, we could have the women’s Roulette championship, the world heavyweight championship, and the bombshells championship all in our group. Because I actually show leadership, I know how to build things from the ground up and make them important where is all you know how to do is point out yourself and call yourself the best when you haven’t proven shit. You stood there and told the world that there are five pieces of crap in that match and then there was you.”

“It takes a hell of a lot to be more unlikable than me Jackie boy, but I honestly think somehow, someway, you are even more arrogant than I am and an even bigger douche bag. Congratulations. But being a bigger douche bag, deciding to run your mouth like some kind of demented asshole isn’t going to make you championship material. Calling me irrelevant, when I have been the most relevant person in front of the camera in that ring and behind the scenes in sin city wrestling in the last two years just makes you look like an idiot, you’re not edgy, you’re not smart, you’re stupid.”

“And some people are going to think that I’m just using cheap name-calling. But think about it. Jack Washington, came into this company, stomped his feet, got a world championship match and got beaten by Ben Jordan only to do the same thing when he thought it was gonna be easier to snatch the belt off Griffin Hawkins. And instead he has to face me. He wants to put himself fourth as a champion but has no champion qualities. You’re not a leader Jack, you’re not a leader, you are not a champion and I’m going to expose you as the arrogant douchebag you are. And at violent conduct you are going to see just how relevant Alex Jones can be”

[Jack Washington]

Prologue:

This was it. Jack was finally getting what he wanted, and what he felt, among many others, that he deserved. The recent victories at both Summer XXXtreme, and against Roulette champion O’Malley had only strengthened his conviction and belief that he was the next star of the company. He had originally challenged then SCW World champion Griffin Hawkins, but Hawkins lost the championship to Alex Jones, and that changed Jack’s target to Alex. To Jack it didn’t matter who the champion was, or how long they had held the championship. Anyone could have it. All that mattered to Jack, was that he took it from them. And now, he was about to get his chance.

Jack had been positioning himself ever since challenging Griffin in the first place. He did the job backing up his boastful challenge, and Alex Jones readily agreed to take him on at Violent Conduct. Jack was getting the chance he felt earned, and the table was set. But Jack was wise beyond his years in the ring. He knew enough not to give anything away, and not to attempt to jeopardize his shot by taking an unnecessary risk, perhaps leading to injury and squandering the chance. He had done this before with Ben Jordan.

Perhaps it was this strategy on Jack’s part that he walked away from his teammates on Climax Control in the main event. Jack was playing the odds in his mind. Everything about that match was about a physical scouting of Alex Jones, and keeping himself in top shape for it. And in Jack’s own mind, there was nothing further to gain at the moment he decided to walk away. It surely cost his team the victory, but Jack’s history with people in general should have left few surprised by his actions. Jack never did well with others, and didn’t trust anyone in the company let alone that six man tag. And in his own mind, his walking away was completely justified.

Now all Jack had to focus on was the match at Violent Conduct against Alex Jones. It was now the most important thing in the world to him. From the moment he stepped through the curtain after the final bell signaled the end of the show, Jack let the result slide off his back and out of his mind. He had reasoned in his head that sometimes you have to take a step back in order to make progress. This was all he needed. He spent the next few days developing his routine and preparing for the match. The gym was necessary, but he thought about it, and didn’t want anyone watching him workout. He had a business decision to make.  Jack did what he believed to be the right move. He bought workout equipment and had it delivered to the grand flamingo plaza. He reasoned that he could workout in peace, and none of Jones’s students would be able to spy for Alex, to possibly give him information. So before the equipment was delivered on Wednesday, he did some quick workouts in the gym at the casino. He picked off hours of the night, to try and avoid most people. But it was time for a super card, so the gym usage was at its maximum. Another reason that Jack made the choice to have his own gym.

Outside the ring, Jack had completed his work for the Mexicans. Not quite everything they wanted, but they didn’t quite know that. And Jack was paid none the less. There was profit to be made working with the Mexicans, but it was dirty money. Not that money was really necessary for Jack, and he didn’t really want dirty money, but the idea of being on the bad side of Ana Sofia and the Mexicans wasn’t exactly a good idea. Considering Jack only had a few people even working with him, and no one really working FOR him, this wasn’t the time to try and make a stand for morality. But Jack did have the gambling commission at least not looking at him for the time being. He had smoothed that over and the Grand Flamingo Plaza was granted both a gambling and a liquor license. Now it was all about getting gamblers into the Casino, but there wasn’t really any way to do that with the COVID-19 still being a problem, and new cases being linked to Casinos wasn’t good for a business that just opened. Jack had a lot of work to do, and he was going to need people.

It was just a question of where those people would come from.


--

Grand Flamingo Plaza
Las Vegas, NV.


Jack watched out the window of the upstairs office as construction was nearing its completion. After all this time, with all the licenses required not in his grasp, he needed only the gambling machines and staff to start. He began to have grand visions, but the idea of doing all this was daunting. Brian soon entered the room, puffing on a cigar as he stood beside Jack admiring the progress.

Brian: You did good kid.

Jack took this compliment in stride, saying nothing, but keeping an eye on the construction and demolition.

Jack: We’re not there yet.

Brian: True. But this is a start.

Jack: Just a start.

Brian walked away from the window and found an ashtray in the desk. He turned the cigar in the ashtray to remove the ash and he watches it drop into the tray, smiling with satisfaction.

Brian: Cubans. Nothing like ‘em.

Brian continued to puff away at his cigar while Jack continued to watch. Brian walked to the small cupboard in the corner of the room and opened it to reveal a bottle of Jack Daniels. Brian smiled as he took the bottle, and two shot glasses back to the table. Brian sat on the edge of the table and poured the whiskey into the two shot glasses.

Brian: Drink?

Jack didn’t answer at first, but after a moment turned his head to see Brian with the drinks.

Jack: Why do you keep that here?

Brian: You should have this kind of stuff. Important people like a drink every now and again. And they need to know that you will partake as well. It’s simple kid. Let’s people know what kind of man you are.

Jack: That is some ‘70’s bullshit, man. I don’t give a shit if someone drinks or not.

Brian: And that’s why you aren’t going to get ahead with the negotiations when the time comes. People like familiar, Stick. They like seeing a man they know they can trust. A good man enjoys his whiskey and a cigar every now and again.

Jack: Who told you that shit?

Brian: People that got me where I am, Stick. I’m just trying to make sure you can play ball with these people. Plus, you need to lighten up anyway.

Jack: I got shit on my mind. Shit to do, man. I don’t need to be drunk doing it.

Brian: Oh yeah, I heard, big championship match. Plus all the gym shit that’s down there. Gonna open up your own Gold’s gym down there?

Jack: No. Just a place where I can work out in peace.

Jack finally walks over and sits down at his desk. Brian pushes the shot glass slowly towards him.

Brian: You ain’t gonna get drunk off a shit, Stick.

Brian says, as he places the cigar in the ashtray and swallows his shot slowly, in one gulp. He winces as he inhales.

Brian: Unless you’re a lightweight. Damn that’s a good burn.

Brian eyes the second shot, daring Jack with his eyes to drink it. Jack stares at Brian, then at the shot, before takes it and slams it back before placing the glass on the table. He too winces for a second.

Jack: Happy now?

Brian: You know, you gotta taste the whiskey now.

Brian begins to pour another two shots.

Jack: The fuck are you talking about?

Brian: Slamming shots is for frat boys in college just aiming to get shitfaced. You need to taste that whiskey. That’s what it’s made for.

Brian finishes pouring and then picks up his cigar, puffing a few times before he finished pouring the second shot. He once again turned up his glass, and slowly allowed the alcohol to pour down his throat. He swallowed and winced again.

Brian: God damn that’s good stuff.

Brian again motioned with his eyes for Jack to take a drink. Jack rolled his eyes, and took the shot glass in his hand and drank it exactly like Brian. He winced from the burn and inhaled.

Jack: Cleared the sinuses. But… I ain’t doing any more shots.

Brian chuckled and took the glasses away. He continued to puff on his cigar before returning and sitting on the edge of the desk again.

Brian: You thought about how you’re going to run this place?

Jack: I thought that’s why you were here?

Brian laughed.

Brian: I can help you, but I’m better at making the deals. You’re going to need people. A lot of people.

Jack: It ain’t exactly a big market out there.

Brian: Sure there is. You just gotta know where to look. And how to get your name out there. Sure would help if you were… the champ or whatever.

Jack: I’m working on that part. You just let me worry about that. But... Shit you’re right. All I have is Bobby and you really.

Brian: That’s a good start. But we’re gonna need more.

Jack: Hmmm…

Jack thought for a moment and he was in agreement that they would need more manpower, to get this going.

Brian: I mean… slot machines are cheap and all, but if you want the tables, the food and all that… we’re going to need staff.

Jack: Yeah… we’ll uh... we we gotta advertise.

Jack smirked to himself and picked up the office phone. He dialed out, and sure enough, Bobby was on the other line.

Bobby: What’s up man?

Jack: What do you know about websites?

Bobby: Shit man… just how to get to them. If you mean like making ‘em… I don’t know how.

Jack: Do you know anybody that does?

Bobby: I can make some calls to some of the old guys back home. Why?

Jack: We need to advertise.

Bobby:  Alright man, I’ll see what I can do.

Jack: Gonna also need you to make a couple of calls for me.

Bobby: Oh, alright. I can do that.

Jack: Good man. I need you to get a hold of Larry.

Bobby: Like… Lawyer Larry?

Jack: Yeah. Gonna need him for this.

Bobby: I can have him call you if I get a hold of him.

Jack: Perfect. That’s what I need. And I need one other thing from you, Bobby.

Bobby: Sure man, what’s up?

Jack pauses, sighing into the phone.

Jack: I’m gonna need you to get a hold of Benny.

There was a brief moment of silence on the other end.

Bobby: Benny? What for?

Jack: Business. Just have him call the hotel phone in an hour if you reach him.

Bobby: Okay man… I’ll do what I can. Anything else?

Jack: Not right now. Just make those calls for me, Bobby. I’m gonna need you on this.

Bobby: You got it, Jack.

The call was ended as Jack hung up the phone. He turned to see Brian staring at him.

Brian: What are you up to, Stick?

Jack: You said I’m gonna need staff, right?

Brian: Benny ain’t staff.

Jack: Benny’s my best shot to get staff. He knows people here. He’s been here longer than me. Plus, with what’s about to be in that basement… I need people I know, know what they’re doing.

Brian: That ain’t Benny. Otherwise Benny wouldn’t be in the spot he’s in right now.

Jack: Benny’s a bookie, I know that. But Benny’s got connections. And he’s got manpower. Something we sorely lack.

Brian: I don’t like this one bit, Stick. Benny’s always wanted to be bigger than he is. It’s why your dad -

Jack: My dad kept Benny where he could keep an eye on him. That’s exactly what I want to do. Simple as that. He can be useful. But I get where you’re coming from. I don’t trust him at all, but right now, he’s what I need to go with.

Brian: I think this is a bad idea, Stick.

Jack: Just let me handle this, if anything goes wrong, you’re in charge. It’s win-win for you.

Brian: Funny.

Jack: Just leave it to me. I’m going to go work out, and then I’m headed back to the Hotel.

Brian: More whiskey for me.

Jack: Have it all.

Brian: I’ll save some… for you know, when you’re the champ and all.

Jack smirked.

Jack: Won’t be too much longer.

With that, Jack departed the manager’s office and headed to his own gym to work out.

The gym was smaller than the Casino’s gym area, but it was private, and in addition to workout equipment, had a TV hooked up and enabled Jack to watch television, as well as access the SCW app, where he could stream matches and promos from recent events. Jack removed his normal street clothes and put on his workout gear and headphones, as he continued preparing physically as well as mentally for the match to come.


--

Saxon Hotel
Las Vegas, NV.


After his work out, Jack returned to the hotel, trying his best to be incognito. His temperature was taken at the door, a new provision for checking for the virus. Jack checked out fine, and checked into his room, where he showered up, only to hear the phone ring before he was dressed. Only people associated with SCW ever called that phone.

Except for Benny. Jack had done it purposely. Jack answered after the third ring.

Jack: Hello?

The voice on the other end, exactly who Jack thought.

Benny: Okay kid, what’s this about?

Jack: Business, Benny. Just some business.

Benny: Why the fuck would I want to do business with an ungrateful punk who stole the spot right out from under me? Why should I not send my boys to handle that for me? To take you right out?

Jack: Because you know if anything goes down… it comes back to you. I’m not stupid, Benny. This isn’t the ‘70’s and ‘80’s no more. You gotta be sophisticated if you’re going to do things these days.

Benny: Fuck you, kid. You wanna have me call you for this bullshit!? I got better things to do with my time.

Jack: That’s the whole reason I called Benny. I wanna talk business between you, and me. Because I feel like we can help each other.

Benny: Get the fuck outta here. You think I’m stupid? You wanna break my balls? Fuck you.

Jack: No, I’m not trying to break your balls. Well, maybe a little.

Benny: Fucking punk kid.

Jack: But the reason we’re talking, is I want to talk money, and opportunity.

There is a long pause where Benny says nothing. The dead air is deafening as Jack breaks the silence.

Jack: Guessing I have your attention. There’s money to be made, Benny.

Benny: What the fuck are you talking about?

Jack: Tell you what, you meet me at Dino’s. That’s your spot, you got everything there, right? I’ll meet you on your turf.

Benny: You ain’t got turf. You ain’t got shit.

Jack: But I got something I know you’re interested in. Now it all depend on whether you want to be interested. We can help each other, or you can choose to make this situation what it becomes. I’m offering you opportunity. It’s up to you.

There is another long pause with Benny simply breathing into the phone as he thinks about this. Finally he breaks the silence.

Benny: Two hours.

Jack: You won’t regret it Benny.

Jack hung up the phone and sighed. He pulled out his actual cell phone and saw that he had a missed call. He smiled and called the number back.

Jack: Larry.

Larry's voice cracked as he spoke.

Larry: Hey, uh… Bobby told me to call you, gave me this number.

Jack: That’s right Larry.

Larry: Jack, they… they know you’re out there.

Jack: I know they do. But I don’t need to worry about that now. I want to offer you a job.

Larry: What?

Jack: Yeah, I’m… into some businesses out here. I have some interests and I figure that I may need legal counsel on some matters.

Larry: I’m not really that kind of lawyer. I’m a criminal lawyer, not a business lawyer.

Jack: I just need someone to make sure that everything that I put my name to in the near future is nice and legal. I figured you were the man who could do that. You understand the law, don’t you?

Larry: Yes, in Pennsylvania.

Jack: How different can Las Vegas be?

Larry: Extremely!

Jack: Well, look at it this way, you’re head of literally everyone I have on staff.

Larry: Staff?

Jack: Okay, not so much a staff as 3 people. But I really need a fourth, Larry.

Larry: I can’t just give up my practice and come out there Jack. That’s now how this works. I have cases, obligations to clients! It could get me disbarred if I just pack up and leave and come out to where you are!

Jack: Larry, you’re a family lawyer. I’m part of the family, right?

Larry: Don’t do this to me, Jack.

Jack: Look, if you don’t want in on this, that’s fine. All I want from you, is to come out here, check out the operation and everything and if you still don’t want it, you can walk away. No questions asked, and no hard feelings.

The line was silent again.

Larry: Where are you? Las Vegas? What are you doing out there?

Jack: A little gambling.

Larry: … Shit.

Jack: I know, that’s why I need you out here.

Larry: Jack… I … alright fine. I’ll head out there and see what you’re working with.

Jack: You’re a good man Larry. I need you on this. I know in the past I may not have wanted you around, or to be bailed out and stuff and… maybe I was too hard on you. But if you come out here and you help me… trust me, there’s a lot in it for you.

Larry: I already agreed to come out, Jack. You don’t need to butter me up.

Jack: Good. I’ll see you soon. Call me when you get in to Vegas.

Larry: I will. See you soon.

Jack hung up the phone and smirked, the plan was coming together… he hoped. But Benny would not be easy to sway or deal with. Jack needed to be prepared for anything to happen during this negotiation.
--

Dino’s Bar And Grill
Las Vegas, NV.


In a matter of role reversal, this time is was Jack sitting down at the table, waiting for Benny. After a short wait, Benny, flanked by two men slowly walks into the bar. It’s entirely empty as Benny cautiously walks to the secluded back corner, out of sight of any other patrons that would be there. Jack is waiting with a nod and a point to Benny. His personal security step forward.

Jack: You can relax boys. I just want to talk.

Benny: Fuck you.

Jack: Have a seat Benny. If I was going to do something, I would have done it by now. I would have right when you walked in the door. You can send the boys out to play. All I want is to talk.

Benny: You think you’re some big shot now? This is my place.

Jack: Look, I’m here, all by myself. If you really want to end this right now, you can, but I promise you’ll have more problems than it’s worth. I’m just here for business.

Benny stands there a moment eyeing Jack up and down, before he finally relents. He motions for the two men to leave.

Benny: Outside, boys.

Jack offers a the chair across the table and Benny eyes it suspiciously as he pulls it out and sits down.

Benny: Okay, kid. You wanna talk, let’s talk.

Jack: Benny, I know you don’t like me right now.

Benny: No shit.

Jack: But, I think maybe, we got off on the wrong foot.

Benny: You came here smart mouthing me, you little punk! You didn’t want to accept my offer, and now you wanna come here and talk business? You ain’t got shit but property. And it should have been mine.

Jack leans forward

Jack: That’s what I’m here to talk to you about. I know you had your heart set on that and I get it. I just beat you to the punch. But, I was thinking about it recently and I had a thought about you and the future of the Grand Flamingo.

Benny: Just cut to the chase kid, don’t be fucking dramatic.

Jack leans back, sighs deeply.

Jack: I think we can help each other. A partnership.

Benny scoffs, laughing as he wheezes from years of smoking.

Benny: Partnership? What is this some kind of joke? You breaking my balls again, kid?

Jack: No.

Jack’s simple answer and then serious look cause Benny to take it seriously too. The table has cold waters on it and Benny takes a drink to let the moment sink in.

Benny: What kind of partnership?

Jack: I think we both can help each other Benny. We both have something the other needs. Space, and able bodies.

Benny: You… you’re trying to buy me out, aren’t you? You wanna run me off.

Jack: No, Benny. I’m not trying to buy you out. You got nothing to buy anyway.

Benny: Fuck you. I got people in this town!

Jack: And that’s why we’re talking. Benny, let’s face it, you got a small book keeping business. It’s legal here. It’s making you some money. Making you feel good. But what I got, is a space that’s destined to make more money in a week than you can in 2 months. I came to you, because you, you’re the low man here. Sonny’s got it all, the Mexicans can move their stuff, and you… you got some small time money. I have the potential for big time money. And you know that.

Benny scoffs. He doesn’t want to accept what Jack is saying, but in his heart, he knows it’s the truth. He takes another sip of the water on the table, gathering his thoughts.

Benny: So what do you suggest?

Jack: You join me. We help each other. We get the Grand Flamingo, up… together.

Benny: No… no, there’s something here, kid. I wasn’t born yesterday. I’m not stupid.

Jack: You do know what a partnership is. You help me, I help you. You come and work… for me, and I give you the platform you need. Together, we make money, and everybody wins.

Benny: You’re bullshitting me.

Jack: You have the people, you have the staff, and you have the connections. But that’s not getting you too far. I’m offering a chance to expand and make this really look good and make money. That’s what you want. I need what you have. And you need the spot to do it in.

Benny: What’s in it for you?

Jack: I get to know the same people you do. I get the staff that know how to run a casino, because let’s face it, I don’t. I got the space to work, but I need someone who knows the ins and outs of the business part. And let’s also face it, I’m not going to have the time to really run the place. I’m trying to be the world champion here. I’m not going to be able to be around. This works out for both of us.

Benny stops and shakes his head.

Benny: What’s the catch?

Jack: There isn’t one. I’m not trying to bullshit you. I don’t bullshit Benny, you’ve known me for a long time. I need you, on side. Now, you can take that offer, and I can get to work on getting all of it set up. Or, you can stand up, and walk out that door and back to what you got, and I can find another partnership and you can lag even further behind.

Jack takes a drink of his own glass of water, placing it back on the table and leaning back.

Jack: The choice is yours.

Jack and Benny look at each other for what seems like forever in silence. Benny takes another drink, finishing his water before he clears his throat.

Benny: I gotta run it my way.

Jack: I would think your way was best. You just gotta make me some money.

Benny: You drive a hell of bargin, kid.

Jack: I’m just playing the hand I’m dealt, Benny.

Jack reaches into his pocket, having received two cigars from Brian before he arrived. He reached out to hand one to Benny

Jack: What do you say?

Another moment of silence passes before Benny sighs.

Benny: Let me think about it.

Jack shrugs.

Jack: Take your time.

The two shake on it, and light their cigars before Jack holds up his hand and a couple shots are brought to the table.

Benny: A little premature, don’t you think?

Jack: Maybe. But now, it’s a guarantee. It’ll be like back home.

Jack and Benny puff on their cigars, and then raises their glasses.

Jack: A toast. If not to a partnership… to old times then.

The glasses clink together.

Benny: …. To old times.

The two toast and down their shots.
--

McCarran International Airport
Las Vegas, NV


Benny left without making the deal, but that was okay with Jack. He had driven out to pick up Larry, as he arrived from the airport. He and Jack greeted each other with a handshake.

Larry: Jack.

Jack: Welcome to Vegas.

Larry: Yeah, Nice this time of year.

Jack: it’s nice all year round. Just dry as fuck.

Larry: Yeah, feels like it.

Jack: Let me show you what we’re working with.

Larry: Alright, but no promises.

Jack: Wasn’t expecting one. Just a chance.

Larry: Alright, let’s go.

Jack and Larry got his bags from the baggage claim and Larry hoofed them to the waiting car with Bobby behind the wheel.

Larry: Bobby.

Bobby: ‘Sup.

Larry: Yes… not much I suppose.

Bobby: It’s cool man.

Once everything was loaded, Larry took his spot in the back seat while Jack rode shotgun.

Jack: I think we got a pretty good setup.

Larry: So what do you really need me for?

Jack: I told you on the phone a couple days ago. Legal issues. Should they arise.

Larry: You know, you can just call me on those type of things.

Jack: Maybe, but let’s just see how you feel after you see it.

The car drove on, Larry taking in the sights of Las Vegas and the strip, before they were able to make it to the Grand Flamingo Plaza.

--

The Grand Flamingo Plaza
Las Vegas, NV


The car pulled up and Larry looked at the building from the outside.

Jack: What do you think?

Larry: It looks… plain from out here.

Jack: We’re still… working on the advertising part.

Larry: Might wanna get on that.

Jack: Thanks for the input.

Jack, Larry, and Bobby made their way to the manager’s office inside the building. Brian was there, puffing on a cigar and a smirk appeared on his face as the other three walked through the door.

Brian: Stick, you bring the lawyer here?

Larry: Hello Mr. Washington.

Brian: We’re friends, glasses.  It’s all friendly here.

Larry: Yes, I’m sure.

Jack: Brian’s gonna help with some of the negotiations.

Larry: I see.

Jack: But, there’s some paperwork here that maybe you could take a look at, and maybe give your opinion on.

Larry: Okay.

Jack opened the drawer and produced a stack of papers, and laid them on the table.

Jack: Enjoy.

Larry: It will take me a week to go through this stuff!

Jack: Then you better get started.

Larry did indeed sit down and begin to actually start looking at the paperwork.

Larry: Well, some of this stuff is just licenses and other mandatory requirements if you’re going to run a business. So, as long as it’s filed correctly, it’ll be squared away. Again, I’m not a business lawyer, so I don’t know exactly what I’m looking for.

Jack: Anything that seems fishy, Larry. That’s all.

Larry: So, are you guys turing this into an actual casino?

Jack: That’s the plan.

Larry:  No offense but… with what?

Jack: What do you mean, with what?

Larry: Well… no offense fellas, but you got a big empty building with nothing in it and a gambling and liquor license. You have nothing that even accessible right now.

Jack: We’re trying to get staff. The advertising, remember?

Larry: I understand that but, you’re going to need a LOT of people.

Jack: Well, luckily, there’s people out there.

Larry: Not people who specialize in this kind of work. You need people for a lot of stuff to get this running at what it needs.

Jack: Well, we’re looking.

Larry: You’ll never get off the ground without people here.

Jack: We’re buying slot machines. 2,000 of them. That should get at least a few things going.

Larry: Jack, you need more than that. You need a serious staff. You need food service people if you’re serving food. Kitchen staff, chefs, front of house people. You need dealers, you need security, you need bankers and people to look after the house money. I mean, I’m sure there’s more to it than that, but that’s just off the top of my head.

Jack: That’s why we’re advertising soon. But we need to make sure all this stuff is squared away before we really get to it.

Larry: And, I should add, you’re going to need all of those people to be trustworthy. Because this is cutthroat like any business. You need top of the line people.

Jack: Look, we’re looking into it. I’ve got a guy who may be able to help us out.

Larry: You’re gonna need all the help you can get. Who is it? Someone you know?

Jack: Benny.

Larry stares at Jack and sighs, chuckling in disbelief.

Larry: Oh, yeah… that’ll work.

Jack: He’s the best shot we have right now.

Larry: Jack, you’d be better off, without relying on Benny for anything.

Jack: If he takes the offer, he takes the offer.

Brian: Trust me glasses, I said the same thing.

Larry: May I may a suggestion then?

Jack: Fire away…

Larry: Go to the Casinos around here. See how they run. Because from what any good business tells me, the owner is aware of all that goes on. And a casino probably is a very involved one. So… I would suggest a little recon as it were. Find out how someone else does it.

Jack thinks about this for a moment, nodding.

Jack: That does sound like an idea. You wanna spend a little money, Larry?

Larry: Beats staying in here.

Jack: Good, I’ll be back in an hour, and we’ll do some recon. Have some fun, this is Vegas after all.

Larry: Well… where are you going?

Jack: Got some work to do for my actual job. You look through that stuff and we’ll go when I get back.

Jack then departed, headed back down the gym he had put in, once again to prepare for his match.

--

On Camera:

Click

Jack is outside, sitting at one of the tables outside the casino. He wears a black a-shirt and his hat with the brim low over his eyes, but pulls it up. The perpetual annoyed look on his face.

Jack: I don’t need to explain my actions. I really don’t.

What? Are you going to judge me because I left two losers high and dry? Hey, I tried to lead that damn team. I did what I could, but the suck that was like a funk around the ring from everyone else but me, started to affect me, and I had to get out of there. I had to walk away before I was drug down to their level. But, hey, that’s all over now. I told you before I don’t do well with others. I only need to rely on one person, and that’s me. The match was bogus to begin with, so hey, I ain’t worried about a quote loss, on my record. I got out of there, and I’m feeling pretty damn good about the choices I made last Sunday.

I can be a great leader, but the fact is, I need people that are willing and actually capable of doing simple tasks. Considering our opponents… good lord, that is embarrassing. So, one of the marks of a good leader is knowing when to retreat. Knowing when the battle is lost. Sometimes you have to sacrifice a battle, to win the war. I got myself out of that situation, because it was no-win, and I don’t deal in no-win situations if I don’t have to. And I clearly didn’t in that one. So yeah, I walked away. It was the right decision.

You want a reason? You want justification? How’s this:

I’m a winner, and the rest of the people in the match were losers. Either by choice, or by birth.

There, now you have the reason I left. I’m a winner. I’ve won all my life, you don’t see me with a bad win-loss record do you? You watched me skyrocket to the top, win important matches and establish myself. I don’t need people who clearly are not on my level, dragging me down to theirs. I don’t need them, I really don't need anybody. I work best alone. I don’t need to waste time with that nonsense anyway.


Because I got bigger fish to fry.

Alex Jones.


Jack removes his hat, tossing it lightly onto the table. His eyes are now shown fully and full of intensity.

Jack: Two weeks. That’s how much time you have. Two weeks. And at the end of that time, at Violent Conduct, I will whoop your ass, and I will become the new SCW world heavyweight champion.

Now, I know what you may be thinking here. Oh, Jack’s gonna have some cool toys and props like he did for Ben Jordan. He’s gonna bust out that replica championship again and talk about how he wants the real thing. I’ve heard this all before.

And you see, that’s where you’d be wrong. Alex. I don’t need props to talk about you. I don’t need anything besides the information I dug up on you. Yeah, I’ve got this nice piece of paper handy, and really, it just has a new bullet points written on it. A sentence or two. Because that’s all I need. You’ve given me so much that it’s almost impossible to run out material on you. In just the few weeks that you’ve been important in my world I’ve sat back and watched. Just like I watched Ben Jordan.

Oh, there’s material right there for a tweet my dude. I’m sure you’ll fire those off these next two weeks because it makes you feel safe. It makes you feel like you’re going to get the last word and you’ve got some real zingers for me. A few knee slappers that will totally kill anything I can say. I mean, it took you three weeks to stop talking about Griffin Hawkins. You even changed your little twitter name there to “Griffin Hawkins is my bitch” I mean, you totally got him didn’t you? And I bet not one person noticed or cared. Hawkins walked away. But I get it, you beat the guy, and now you’re a big shot. And every chance you get, you wanna rub it in. I mean, if this were… like 2010, people would be impressed. But it’s 2020 and your material is sad.

Jack indeed pulls a piece of folded up paper out of his pocket and holds it up. He places it on the table and begins mindlessly playing with it in his hands.

Jack: Bro, I had to listen and hear you talk about me, how you think I’m on steroids. I had to laugh because I mean, is… is that the best you can come up with? Don’t answer that, I already know it’s the truth. I mean, first of all, I might just take that as a compliment. I work hard to keep and maintain the best physical shape I can. What you see is a result of that hard word. The fact that you thought that because I have a better body than you ever good, must mean I’m on the gas is hilarious. I mean come on, don’t hate on me for looking the way I do. It’s not my fault that you don’t work as hard as I do in the gym. You do crossfit or whatever. Whatever works for you man. Sure, you look sickly at times, and you try and show off that one chest hair you have, but you do you. See, I just made that up on the fly dude.  You thought long and hard about that steroids gag, and it went over like a fart in church. And you not only thought it was good, you fucking doubled down on it. If that’s the best you got son, you ain’t long for being SCW champion. I mean, shit, you ain’t long for it anyway, but you best step that insult game up. Not sure how you ever accomplished anything in wrestling if that’s the quality I’m about to get. Holy shit that was weak. You better try harder.

Jack unfolds the paper. Indeed it does have some notes scribbled on it. He reads, chuckling to himself.

Jack: I mean, I can sit here and talk about your dumb ass all day. The list of ridiculousness that you may in front of you is fucking like… what do they call it… a meme? Yeah, I think that’s right. You are a fucking meme. I mean, are you really sitting here, as a grown adult man, and calling yourself “the Black Dragon”? Or just… “The Dragon” in general? Did you come up with that all by yourself too? What, get really into Skyrim or something? You got a whole room of dragon stuff, don’t you? You got your cool dragon shirts, you got your dragon posters, you got your dragon tattoos, you got all this shit with dragons on it, don’t you? I mean, why else are you calling yourself “the Dragon” big Bruce Lee fan or something? I mean, you even named your moves after Dragon’s too? Holy shit my guy, you have to realize some utterly fucking stupid that is, right? At this point, you have to, right? You can’t really be thinking as a man that “dragons are just really cool, let me name stuff after dragons.” Do you…. Do you want to be a dragon? Like, in real life? Or do you think you ARE a dragon? Is that what we’re doing now? Is it just pretend time for Alex Jones? Like, for fucks sake man, you’re an adult. Dragons are cool when you’re like 15. I think you’re just trying way too hard. I mean, the Dragon sleeps? Sleeps? Shouldn’t it be like the Dragon’s “fire” or something cool? The Dragon Sleeps? That’s so fucking lame. The Dragon’s breath? Did you just look on a bottle of fucking hot sauce for inspiration? Were you googling fucking chili peppers and just went, “yeah, that’ll work” Holy fuck my dude. Like, how? How is that you are this fucking lame? Don’t you have any other nicknames that are less stupid?

Again, don’t answer that, I already know.

Let me see…

Holy. Shit.


Jack reads off the paper once again.

Jack: “Prince of Perfection” Alex Jones.

I’m sorry, what? Bruh, what? You really went around calling yourself that? Like…. For real? Like.. what the fuck, dude? Who came up with these nicknames? And what did they get, because it should have been 3-5 years. Prince? Were you like a medieval prince? Did you have squires and knights and shit? Did you ride a horse to the ring? Is your dad a fucking King? Is he the “King of Perfection”? Or was this just another case of you thinking that something sounded cool? Because that doesn’t sound cool at all. That couldn’t have sounded cool in your head. No fucking way. I refuse to believe that you actually sat down and thought that “Prince of Perfection” was cool. Like, you lost a bet or something, right? There’s no way you came up with that on your own. No way. I mean, are you really trying to say, you’re just so good that, you just mess up on purpose because you’re far and above everyone else in the ring? Well, this nickname is living proof of an imperfect brain. So that’s a fucking lie. That’s one of worst names I’ve ever heard in my life, man. You? Perfect? Okay buddy, you keep thinking that. You winning the SCW championship on a complete fluke against a paper champion, and all of a sudden you’re king shit? Nah, I’m gonna call bullshit on that. “Prince of Perfection.” Did you come out with like a robe and a crown and shit too? Come on dude, if you’re going to go in, you go in all the way. Own that shit. Don’t half ass it because you think it sounds cool. Wear a fucking little crown if you’re a prince. Wear a fucking like… apron with a giant crown on it. Or like chainmail? Wait, like a big “P” wearing a crown. Come on man, be original! There’s gotta be something better, right? Something. Anything?

Jesus Christ.

Another check of the paper.

Jack: “The American Nightmare”

Wow. That’s really all I can say about this one. Seriously. I have no words for who fucking terrible this one is. You’ve got to be kidding me, bruh. How? How are these nicknames so bad? Who is giving you this stuff? Look, if a friend is giving you ideas and throwing them out there, that person does not need to be your friend. They are trolling you or something. This is… this is just the worst set of nicknames I’ve ever heard. Why can’t you just be Alex Jones? Why do you have to have a really stupid cringy ass nickname my guy? This one isn’t even original. You just heard about someone talk about the “American Dream” and boom, you’ve got it don’t you? I can just see your face when the wheels turned in your head and I can almost guarantee that you just went “What about…. American Nightmare”, like out loud, to nobody in particular, and you fucking laughed to yourself because you thought it was so clever. You did, didn’t you? And then you called up your friends and said “I’m gonna be the American Nightmare Alex Jones” And you were so fucking proud of it. And again, you probably had a really shit friend, so they just agreed with you. A true friend would have told you that that wasn’t good, but they agreed, and led you to believe that you actually came up with something good. I mean, you really need to check the people you hang around with. They are leading you down a path that leads to me having to do this to you.  I mean… there’s got be… there HAS to be something here that isn’t going to make me piss myself laughing at you.

Jack makes one final check of the paper.

Jack: AJ Phoenix?

Phoenix? Like there aren’t like two thousand wrestlers who used “Phoenix” already. Let’s just add another terrible, unoriginal nickname. Like how? How are you so bad at this that you can’t come up with one nickname that isn’t a pile of garbage that no self-respecting wrestler would ever choose? AJ Phoenix sounds like a really emo character from like a fucking anime or a dude who sits on youtube and unboxes things. I mean, I’d put that nickname back in the box if I were you. Never let that shit see the light of day. AJ Phoenix is the name of some online nerdy edge-lord type dude, sitting is his parent’s basement eating his whole bag of Doritos and chugging down his fucking Fanta as he blasts terrible death metal because he’s so cool. I mean, god damn son, is it that hard to just be Alex Jones and just go off the merit you’ve earned? Is it that hard to just be Alex Jones period?

Wait for it. Don’t answer that, I know the answer. It is really hard to be Alex Jones. This was just a little fun to get your attention. The nicknames are bad. But I know why you did that. It’s just really hard to be Alex Jones.

Jack crumbles the paper and tosses it out of frame.

Jack: It’s really hard to be Alex Jones, because really… who the fuck IS Alex Jones? Who is Alex Jones as a person? A bland, snarky, jackass. Congratulations, you are every single nerd ass internet troll ever. I mean, you have to sit there and hype yourself up. “I’m a 10 time world champion.” I’m just so talented.” No, you’re just boring. You have the personality and the charisma of a pencil. That’s why people don’t talk about you, YOU have to talk about you. Before you got this random SCW championship match, who gave a flying fuck about Alex Jones outside of his students and family? Nobody. Not a god damn soul gave two pints of piss about Alex Jones. Does anyone even remember the last time Alex Jones was world champion? Wasn’t he a 9 time world champion for like 6 years? Don’t worry Alex, I’m sure you were world champion more recently in a company that either no longer exists or no longer wants you in it less than 6 years ago. It’s called hyperbole, Google that shit if you don’t know. The point still remains that nobody cares. You can claim YOU care, but again, who are you? Your students may think you’re some great thing, but you know, my mom tells me I’m handsome all the time, too.

You just have to face facts, son. You are uninspired, unoriginal, and unfunny. You are a giant piece of white bread. I look at you, and I automatically yawn. Every time you talk, it’s lame. Every time you wrestle, it’s lame. It’s so god damn boring and yet, here you are, thinking it’s somehow interesting. An audience with the “Sin City King”? Holy dog shit dude, even THAT, is lame as fuck. Your nicknames are lame. Your insults are lame. Everything about you, is bland and boring. And you’ve obviously passed it on to your students. I didn’t realize you could suck personality out of people, but damn dude, you managed to pull it off.

I mean, Johanna is an ex-cop, and she’s lame. Austin James Mercer? Some dude. Alicia Lukas? Apparently had one good year and it now that the folks who actually have personality showed up, she’s lame. The name Wolfslair is lame and unoriginal. And here you are, like a proud papa about all their success and all they’ve done. And more than happy to take fucking credit for it.

Jack simply chuckles.

Jack: I mean, coaches don’t normally take credit for their student’s success do they? I’ve never heard Bill Belichick ever say “you know, these guys are where they are because I coached them.” Never heard Eddie Futch talk about how if not for him Joe Frazier wouldn’t have a left hook. Like, holy shit. I mean, could there be any more whining going on here? “Nobody appreciates what I did.” Boo-hoo. “I trained 3 people just as bland as I am and nobody thanked me.” So, I tell you what chief, I’m going to get you a gift. No, it’s not a personality transplant, and no it’s not a nickname that isn’t terrible. I know you may have had your heart set on that, but sorry, it’s neither or those. But it is something you can use.

I’m going to buy you a big wooden cross. So that every time you feel unappreciated for all your sacrifices, you can climb up and nail yourself to it.

Jack suddenly become somber, but in a mocking tone.

Jack: We just don’t appreciate Alex Jones enough for training wrestlers. I mean, a lot of people train wrestlers. Wrestlers are popping up all over the place. There’s teeny tiny companies all over the place and wrestlers are flocking to them. No one is flocking to Wolfslair or whatever the fuck. It just feels like at this point people are over it. I mean, I know I am. Your students are lame, you’re lame, and anybody who comes to you to get trained is wasting their time and money on a dude who just can’t handle that nobody thinks that Alex Jones is anything special.

And I get it, bruh, you can totally hype up your students and tell them to all say that you’re great and they appreciate that you trained them. If you got like 5 people to say it, I guess it makes it true, doesn’t it?

Actually no. Can somebody who you didn’t train, say you’re a good trainer? Probably not, because nobody give a fuck you train people. Especially when you stomp your feet and piss and moan like the true attention whore you are. I mean, normally people do something and get attention for it, you have to beg for it. Like a dog looking for a fucking treat.

Jack once again gets serious.

Jack: So I’m going to just do the world a favor in two weeks, and I’m going to take that championship from you. Then you can run along and try to do something else to gain that attention you seek. Because after Violent Conduct, you will be in my rear view mirror, you can scream and whine and piss and moan about anything you want, and I won’t give a fuck. I will be champion, and you will be irrelevant, yet again. Until the next time you pop up like a pimple on prom night and everybody has to collectively face palm and remember you exist.

And, for the love of god, please don’t say that I remind you, of you. We are nothing alike. I’m real, you’re a poser with shitty nicknames and even shittier insults. You’re a 35 year old man-child. If you were anything else but a wrestler, people would have told you to get your shit together 10 years ago. You’re 35, and slinging mud like a 15 year old girl.  It’s embarrassing.

And I get it, I know you think you got me because of the match last Sunday right? You got my number. You’re probably going to say I’m a coward or I’m a pussy for leaving to not take the loss. Well, here’s the thing, the team lost anyway. So technically, you got a win over me. Great job. And this of course give you the right to the whole “mountain top” speech I got just last week. I’ve never climbed the mountain, I’ve never had to work for a world championship, I don’t know what it’s like.

You got me Alex. Stone cold dead.

Jack pretends he has been shot in the head and slumps over, before rising up again and shaking his head.

Jack: I’ve never been a world champion. I only won a championship my first professional match ever. I only walked into this company in February and demolished pretty much everybody in my path. But I don’t know about hard work or working for my shot, right? I only won the King for A Day, and as a 23 year old, I beat the hell out of Ben Jordan, a dude whose jock you couldn’t hold, and I was a cunt hair away from being the World champion before you were plucked from obscurity. And let’s just call it what it was: Ben Jordan ESCAPED with his championship. I didn’t tap out, I never quit. My body gave out. That’s the truth. So no, motherfucker, I was AT the top of the mountain, and I slipped off. I just missed planting my stake in. You? You fell off and you had to climb back up, and then take a fucking ski lift to the top. And now, I’m going to finish my climb, and knock you off, and plant my stake in, as the future of the company.

So you can keep listing your accolades and all your accomplishments and talk about how great you were. It’s only going to make what happens at Violent Conduct mean all that much more. It will add to my growing legend. It will increase my stock tenfold. I’m getting in the ring with a legend in his own mind, but you? You’re getting into the ring with the future.

And please, save me the old man experience speeches. It’s a waste of my time and yours. You know what the deal is, Alex. You are keeping that championship warm. You can try and deny it, you can try and pump yourself up, or have your students pump you up, it doesn’t matter. It will not change this beating you have coming at Violent Conduct.

Jack rubs his face, and cracks his neck.

Jack: I don’t know how to be anything else but real with you Alex, you are getting into the ring with a dude that gives no fucks about you, your legacy, your career or quite frankly your well-being. If I have to cripple you, I will do it. And I will do it with a smile on my face. You see my goal, is to be the world champion. And I will stop at nothing to win it. Because that’s all that matters. I don’t care what happens to you. You can break your neck doing some dumbass dive, or I can drop you on your head. You can blow out a knee, or I can break your leg. That part doesn’t matter to me, but it should matter to you.

After all, you got a family.

You gotta provide right? I don’t have those commitments. You do. So I want you think about that, long and hard. Get big mad about me talking about it too. Oh wait, I forgot, you said I wasn’t going to get in your head, right? Well, shit. I guess I can bring up the names Sonya and Dylan all I want and you aren’t going to do shit about it.

Or maybe you will. I don’t know. All I know is, that at Violent Conduct, I’m going to win the SCW world championship, and I’m taking my rightful place at the top of this company, and getting all the accolades and respect that comes with it.

And you will be there to witness it firsthand.

The rise of Jack Washington.

You got two weeks, Bitch.

Come. The fuck. At me.

With that, Jack simply stands up and the scene cuts to black.

Click.

Watch. This. Space.

[/color]

[Alex Jones]

A danger to yourself
Dallas, Texas
13 Years Ago

It felt like any other day at the gym. Alex and Charlie laughed and moved around the ring with others. They locked up, took each other down and tried to make each other tap. They learned, they made themselves stronger as a unit. Alex moves over to talk to Charlie and Spike Kane,an old friend of his. But before they could bring Charlie hit her brother on the shoulder pointing to the entrance. Alex turned to find Dylan standing under the open metal roller door. He smiled at everyone and seemed uneasy on his feet. Alex crowned and shook his head.

He went to go to his brother but Spike reaches out grabbing his arm pulling him back. Alex sighed and Spike shook his head. Dylan has to make his own mistakes. He moved through the gym high giving some of the younger trainees. They were happy to see him. Dylan had always been a very popular member of the gym. He made friends easy, he seemed to be able to relate to strangers better than his own family.

Dylan moved over to the grappling mats, he took off his jacket and revealed that he was in his training gear. He dropped it near the mat leaning down to take his shoes off almost slipping over. Alex went to go to him again, and yet again Spike grabbed him by the arm. Charlie looked at them both and wanted to go to them, but knew what Spike was trying to accomplish. Dylan stepped onto the maths, one of the young trainees who was always friendly with Dylan stepped forward willing to work with him. They went to lock up, Dylan stepped back and lost his balance falling on his back as the tradie landed on top of him confused. Dylan started laughing uncontrollably clapping his hands before being helped up. He still seemed uneasy on his feet and Alex started becoming furious.

This was disrespectful to the gym, and disrespectful to Alex and Charlie as well as everyone who is there training with them and training them to be better at their art of professional wrestling.

Dylan lined up again, this time his shot in for a double leg. The other trainee was able to stuff it and push Dylan down before rolling over and taking Dylan’s back, he was straight away able to lock in a rear naked choke, Dylan tapped out and the trainee let go. But something snapped. Dylan popped up and instead of clapping his hands his entire demeanour changed. He moved across the mats charging at the training before taking him down and throwing hard punches, the train he was able to cover up as others put them back and away.

”Get the fuck off me. Fuck y’all!” Alex is nostrils flared, he moved across the ring, this time Spike didn’t stop him. Alex slid out into the floor before moving across through the group of people who had started watching what was going on. Alex grabbed Dylan by the arms and pulled him backwards shoving him against the wall behind the mats. Dylan shook his head and mood for shoving Alex in the chest. ”You want some now?. Shut you wanted me here.” Dylan Snead and lean back against the wall, obviously having difficulty staying in an upright position.

The other trainees all crowded around and watched them, Charlie moved over to the ropes leaning forward wondering if she should go down there and talk to both of her brothers. Spike folded his arms watching what Alex was going to do next.

Alex folded his arms over his chest and stood in front of his brother, his long hair falling down his shoulders and back. ”I only wanted you here if you were going to work.” Dylan started laughing, almost uncontrollably and in a maniacal way. He slid a bit further down the wall, his leg sitting at an angle as he had trouble staying there. Alex looked away from his younger brother, he failed to hide the disgust in his eyes.

Dylan was able to pick up on this. He stopped laughing and eased his way back to his feet taking a step forward almost stumbling forward into his brother. His finger up pointing at Alex right in the face. ”You don’t get to act all high and mighty. I’m here bro, I’m here to train so let’s train.” Dylan move forward and try to shop past Alex to get to the maths, Alex put his hand on Dillons chest pushing him back lightly, Dylan stumbled back unable to keep himself upright falling back and landing against the wall in a sitting position. He growled and push back up to his feet and then looked over at the ring trying to get there, this time Alex put his left hand against Dylan’s chest and shocked him slightly harder backwards. Dylan again landed on his ass sitting against the wall.

Everybody around them gasped. Dylan looked up angrily, growling again as he pushed up to his feet and this time stepped forward at his brother taking a swing, Alex moved out of the way of the clumsy punch attempt spinning Dylan around grabbing both of his arms and holding him in a restrained position, ”Calm down.” Alex spoke in a calm and measured way. He tried to whole Dylan still, Dylan flailed and moved before throwing his head back, he connected with Alex‘s nose. Alex stumbled back some blood trickling from his nostrils as he failed to see straight.

Charlie looked on in shock, Spike moved forward watching even more intently knowing what was coming next. Dylan turned around looking at his brother, watching the blood drip from his nose. ”I fuckingbtold you Alex.” Dylan stepped forward and landed a hard right hand, it connected with Alex right on the jaw, Alex dropped one knee his hand resting down against the concrete below. Dylan stood above him waiting for Alex to get up. ”Come on Alex! Teach me a lesson Mr high and mighty!”

Alex look down at the concrete, some of the blood from his nose trip down onto it. He shook his head and took a deep breath before getting to his feet moving his jaw around, and wiping the blood from his nose. ”I’m not going to fight you D. But you can’t train. Not in your state.” Alex swallowed hard and backed away from his brother just to be safe. [cooor=red]”You’re a danger to yourself and a danger to others. We don’t want you here.”[/color]

 Dylan started to laugh, he threw his hands in the air and looked around at all the other trainees who was staring at him. His laughter slowly faded away and turned into disappointment and sadness as he realised none of them were laughing with him. Everyone was staring at him with the same pity and sadness that Alex had. Dylan slowly looked over his sister, Charlie couldn’t even look him in the face a tear rolled down her cheek as she turned away. Dylan looked down at the ground swallowed hard, he tried to stop tears from welling up in his face.”That’s really how you all feel huh? Well goddamn.”

He pushed off the wall, he stumbled over almost falling. He moved around and picked up his jacket and shoes before turning to walk towards the roller door. He moved slowly and almost stumbled again before stopping and turning to look at everyone. ”Fuck all of you. I don’t need this. I have real friends. REAL FAMILY WHO GIVE A SHIT.” he stormed away, out and down the stairs.

Alex let out along deep sigh, he moved around closer to the ring where Charlie was almost in tears, she leaned against the ropes holding her head in her hands as Spike moved over grabbing a towel. He leaned over handing it to Alex as he wiped away the blood. Speed bike decided to talk, he was usually the silent type, his Irish accent shining through with a bit of the American that he picked up in the last seven years of living in the United States. ”it’ll be alright. Tough love. But...watch him eh?” Alex gave a small nod, but in his heart he knew that his brother was broken. And he had no idea how to fix it.

Context.

A steel folding chairs it’s open right under a large bright light. There is no one around it, just darkness with a few shapes being made out to look like it is in the middle of an office. There is a sound of a door opening, click and heavy footsteps from someone wearing black boots. Alex Jones steps in from the side, wearing said black boots, torn black jeans, and a white and red T-shirt from the band a day to remember. He slowly lowers himself down on the chair leaning back against it throwing his legs straight out in a relaxed position with a long deep breath.

”It seems like I struck a nerve.”

He couldn’t help but smile. Observing Jack’s behaviour and what he said obviously made him get under his skin. It was a good trade off, after all the things of Jack said may not of cause the same reaction, but they did annoy him.

”Sucks doesn’t it Jack?. To do something and have your actions apparently miss construed as to what your true nature is. Although I think we know what your nature is. Although, it is quite funny knowing that if I hadn’t of said anything, if I had stayed quiet and waited, you would not have had anything to open with. Replying isn’t a good move Jack. Shows lack of vision, and lack of creativity. There’s so many things you could’ve talked about when it comes to you me and our match coming up a violent conduct. But that’s what you went with, that’s what you chose. You chose to get so angry about the little quips I made about your lack of leadership.“

“All the things that I said and that have happened in the past and that’s what you choose to open on, of course it wasn’t anything compared to what you kept going with. That’s the difference between us Jack, you are nothing but a childish moron grasping at straws trying to keep yourself on my level verbally because you know that physically while you may look more impressive you don’t have the pedigree, and you don't have the past that I do.”

“I zeroed in on that for a reason Jack.“

“I am a locker room leader. I am someone who walks into a company and people instantly gravitate towards. Love me or hate me that’s just the truth. I am a professional, I am a legend, I am a veteran. I walked in here and the big dog with this company Fenris decided to open his mouth and disrespect me. By the time he was right it’s hot his tail between his legs and fuck off back to Iceland, he knew my name, he knew who I was. And he realised his mistake. He realised who I was and what I could do in that room, he realised that I was a former world champion and a fucking veteran.”

Alex leans forward with a large smile on his face, his hands clasp together into a pyramid just under his chin.

” I moved in on that because I knew you wouldn’t be able to handle it. And here you are commenting on it straight away jumping on it like a dog with a bone. But here’s the thing Jack, you came up with your excuses on why the loss didn’t matter to you, you came up with some bullshit about how a leader knows when to retreat. If that’s true, and you want to be a leader, know when to retreat, and tuck your balls and run now. Leave now. Because I am the one to lead this locker room, I am the one to show everyone what it is to be a true competitor and a true champion. A real champion doesn’t run from a challenge, a real champion doesn’t pack his bags and think better of it and leave other people to do his dirty work.”

“A real champion stands toe to toe with anyone and everyone, uses and loves competition. I don’t care if I win or lose, as long as I go out there and I bust my ass and that’s what I do week in week out, day in day out, and match after match.“

“But, for argument's sake Jackie boy, what would happen if you did become the champion? How long before you face someone who you know is better than you, and instead of staying in that rank and trying to beat them and defend your championship like a real leader, you walk out and take account out just so you keep your championship? How long before you decide it’s just too hard and lay down and let someone who honestly shouldn’t be allowed to touch the sin city wrestling world championship beat you just because you think it’s too hard?“

“How is that being a winner?“

“Spoiler alert, commonsense alert, it’s not Jack. And this is the problem I have with you. See you are young, but you are also old enough and now experienced enough to know the difference. You got into that ring with Ben Jordan and you had a chance to hold the sin city wrestling world heavyweight championship. You had a chance to beat him and show everyone what you’re made of. And then you failed. And in the weeks after that you put up a few fake bullshit reasons and emotions, acting like you actually learn something. Right up until I stepped in and took the championship off Griffin, then? you went straight back to your same Waze and show the world that you don’t know how to adapt, change or learn”

He rolled his eyes, in Alex’s mind he was right. He watched Jack’s verbal diarrhoea, he watched him sit there for 20 minutes and run his mouth and say so much but somehow I’m not saying anything. Rookie move Jackie boy, Rookie move.

”There are some things about you though, that I find admirable. You are worthy of respect in one way. And that is being alone. Not relying on anyone else and being your own man is definitely something that is worthy of respect and something that should be drawn attention to. I’m not gonna sit here and say that you’re a giant pussy Jack, because the truth is you will go up against anyone and watch your own back and I applaud it.”

“With that being said, given your amazing verbal bullshit talking about being a winner, it’s kind of sad that you don’t know what a winner looks like.“

“You went through my entire history, you brought up all of these things about my past names, about the people who I work with and my friends and family. Yet before you went into it you came riding on the whole steroid thing. And said that is the best that I can do? Really? So you spent all that time going over how I told you apart when it comes to walking away in a tag match and having no courage to stand and be a leader but apparently all I said was something about steroids? Are you high? Are you talking rain in circles or you just fucking stupid? I’m sorry I thought I was talking to someone who had an IQ higher than his goddamn shoe size.”

“But still, congratulations on knowing how to use Google, apparently it’s something more than Fenris knew how to do when he first came at me. but somehow you went to all that trouble of googling me, but didn’t watch any of my promotional material from other companies where I go over various nicknames. And names for my moves.”

“But I completely agree, AJ Phoenix was a stupid name. Which is why I started going by my actual name champ.”

Alex winks and puts up a small thumbs up before moving over to the side grabbing the Sin City wrestling world heavyweight championship dropping it over his knee.

” but hey, it’s not like you went over all of my failed marriages, or any of the weird things I’ve been involved in in the past right? It’s not like you brought up the nudes for myself that are circulating around because of my ex-wife. But again, he brought up everything I’ve done in my past a whole bunch of stuff the people in Sin City probably don’t even know about. Or care about. Things that I moved on from and learn from because again I know how to adapt, change and learn. and the fact that you had to go back that far and talk about things that don’t matter when I’ve made so many mistakes and dumb things within the last year that is stupid? It goes to show how far your reach and how many straws you decide to clutch it.”

“Very sad Jackie boy, very sad“

“ I do have to concede something though, you are supposed to be a challenge in my championship. So I can understand why you would come after me and why you would try and make my past look like something to be afraid of, to make fun of, I get it. but, do you really want to go after the rest of my gym? You called Austin just some guy despite the fact that he too has helped this world championship, something that up to this moment you have failed to do. He’s also beating people who you have never beaten. So explain to me again how do you know what a winner looks like when you said that about Austin?”

“But what about Alicia? One good year? The fact that she’s been a champion in every company she’s entered. Well every company that matters. There was some LAW bullshit. She held the championship here for almost a year. She held all the championships in honor, including two at one time. She was the champion of WWH for almost a year. So not only do you not know what a winner looks like, apparently you don’t know how time works. So let me explain it to you dip shit, the earth rotates around the sun, it takes 365 days, 366 during a leap year.. Maybe you should’ve actually listened in school instead of running your mouth like a fucking moron.”

He scoffed and pushed up to his feet holding the world championship belt and his hand before putting it over his shoulder.

”One of the only intriguing and original thoughts in your head, he’s talking about my family and the fact that I have to provide for them. But, it’s wrong. I don’t have to provide for my family, the gym, endorsements, the fact that I didn’t snort away most of the money that I and unlike some guys that I used to work with. It means that my family is well provided for. We have a great life. So if I’m not doing this for something as basic as money, why do I do this?”

“You asked the question of who I was Jack, that’s the thing you don’t know who I am. You can throw out all of the stupid nickname that I’ve used, the stupid stage names I’ve used, you can throw all of that at me and failed to mention all the world titles I won in a very convenient twist of fate. But if I don’t do this for money, if I already have the glory that I want and that just leaves one thing, one small thing. And it’s the same thing that I started talking about before that separates men like you from men like me. From challengers to champions.”

“Competition.”

“I do this because I still have that fire in Me. I still have that fire to be the best, and face the best, and beat the best. You have a chance to get in the ring with me at violent conduct and prove that you deserve to be one of the best. Truth is I thought you already own that right when you faced Ben Jordan. I thought when you got into that room with him and you did everything you could beat him and came up short but still seem to have that need and that want to compete, I thought you were someone who I could relate to. But then, you opened your mouth.”

“And that old adage popped up, it is better to be thought of  a fool, than to open your mouth and remove all doubt. You’re a fool Jack, a dancing fucking clown. And violent conduct either the real Jack Washington who almost beat Ben shows up, or the rambling moron who went through my past and twisted it to his own narrative turns up. And I can tell you right now one of those Jack Washington‘s has a chance to beat me and walk away with the world title, and the other one has absolutely no chance at all. Make the right choice Jack, because I don’t want this to be easy."

[Jack Washington]

Prologue:

Jack was now more focused than ever as the time drew near. He only had days to wait until he got another chance to be SCW world champion. He was brimming with confidence, something he was never short on, but as the time drew closer, he was extremely confident, but also extremely focused. He trained daily, watched the matches of Alex Jones, knowing about his previous injuries. Jack made sure to note them and it was now a possible strategy he would use in the upcoming title match. Jack took no chances, only appearing at the Saxon hotel because he really had no other place to go. The Grand Flamingo didn’t have any bed, so he simply continued to use the hotel’s. Maybe that would be the next step after the match, and after other things were in place, a room at the casino. A place that he could finally call his own, right before he was about to wrestle one of the biggest matches in his short career, about to headline a supercard. Jack was a bundle of nerves, but as he studied, and as he trained, he focused himself. He needed to make sure he did not slip up and leave any stone unturned in preparation for this match. There would be no let downs this time. All Jack had to do was think of the last time he was in the ring wrestling for the SCW championship to remind himself how not being prepared led to the most devastating loss of his career, which were few and far between. Jack knew he had the natural ability, but clearly needed to remember that he couldn’t take this match lightly. He would lay all the cards on the table on Sunday.

Outside the ring, Jack now looked to secure a deal with Benny, as they both had something the other wanted. Jack having the property, and Benny at least a small group that knew what they were doing and could help get the casino off the ground. Benny hadn’t taken the deal yet, and both parties were still very skeptical of each other possibly attempting to put the other out of business. Benny was surprised by the offer, but wanted to put his stamp on the casino instead of working under Jack. Benny knew that without experience Jack was in over his head, but Benny was going to stay small time if he didn’t take the offer.

What Benny still doesn’t know is the deal Jack has with the Mexicans. It would be tricky waters to navigate, but Jack knew enough that keeping it from Benny was the best idea as he needed him on board. Jack would have to think of a way to entice Benny to come with him, and keep the Mexicans happy, as he really didn’t want an internal war combined with an external one as well. Jack had a lot of work still yet to do, but he felt confident in this, just as much as he felt in his chances at being the world champion. And being the world champion could have more perks outside the ring, which only made Jack want it more.

But that would all hinge on Benny, and getting everything in place. It was the start of something special, but that’s all it was.

A start.

--
The Grand Flamingo Plaza
Las Vegas, NV

Jack stood looking out again at the mostly empty casino floor. He had grand visions of what it could look like and how it would be amazing to see it all done up in lights and looking all fancy. He knew it would take off and be a success. This, for him, was the ultimate goal outside of being the world champion. To be part of something like that, that could stand on its own and be an accomplishment for Jack was a thrilling thing. He very much wanted to make it happen. But, unlike the majority of his life philosophy, he would need to trust people to get things done.

Jack turned around and at his desk was Bobby and one of Bobby’s friends.

Bobby: I think we almost got it.

Jack: Good.

Brian: You know, I’m all about this advertising stuff, but what the hell is gonna mean if we don’t have the manpower?

Jack: Well, that’s why we’re advertising online.

Brian: And you think people will come here?

Jack: A lot of people will. People aren’t working man.  They need work, and we can provide to them.

Brian: But you need the right people. Not just anybody.

Jack: I know that. That’s why when we put job offerings on this website we’ll be able to filter out who we want to look at. It’s a process man, a process.

Brian: Yeah, you better hope so.

Jack: I got this, man. I got this.

Brian retrieves his glass and pours himself a shot.

Brian: Any word from Benny?

Jack: He’s thinking it over, last I heard.

Jack’s office phone rings and Jack quickly picks it up.

Jack: Grand Flamingo, Jack speaking…. Uh huh? Good, very good. I’ll meet you down there….

Jack hangs up the phone with a satisfied look on his face.

Brian: What was that all about?

Jack: We’ve got toys coming.

Brian downs his drink and he and Jack head down to see the delivery of 100 slot machines. Brian signs for them and then are put on the main floor, all of them covered and unplugged. The invoice is collected and Jack and Brian eventually head back upstairs to the room.

Jack: That’s a step.

Brian: A good one, but they ain’t gonna make no money with no people in here.

Jack: You know we’re not ready to open. We just got the slot machines.  There’s a lot more to do.

Brian: But can you do it?
Jack stares at Brian intently. This was clearly a challenge, and one that Jack was more than determined to answer.

Jack: Look man, I know this is a lot to undertake. I do, but at the end of the day, it’s gonna happen. Every step we take means something. I’ll admit, I don’t know shit about running a casino, but you know what, I can learn. You can learn, we all can learn. That’s what this has to be, a start, a learning experience. And I am confident we can do this.

Brian: Confidence is something. But not a lot.

Jack: We all start small man, and when we work on things and get them right, we’ll have more success then we dreamed ever.

Brian: Sure thing, Stick. You tell Benny about the Mexicans?

Jack: No.

Brian: Don’t you think he ought to know?

Jack: At some point, yes. But I have to think that’s a deal breaker. There’s no way he’s going to agree if he knows, and quite frankly, we need him.’

Brain holds up a finger to stop Jack.

Brian: We need his connections. That’s about it. We can’t let him have too much power.

Jack: Listen, Benny’s not stupid, he didn’t take the deal right away, and really, the less he knows, the better for now.

Brian arches a brow.

Brian: That’s a dangerous game.

Jack: It’s the only way to play it at the moment. If we signs on, then we can worry about it.

Brian: And what about the other guy?

Jack: Sonny?

Brian: Sure, I don’t know these people.

Jack: Sonny is a non-factor, but being at war with the Mexicans at this point makes him the enemy. If they can keep him distracted, it’ll save us a lot of trouble.

Brian’s look of trepidation turns into a sly grin.

Brian: Look at you, using people to get your own goals accomplished.

Jack: I hate it too.

Brian: I’m proud of you, Stick.

Jack: Don’t.

Bobby: Alright, the website is finished you guys.

Jack and Brian view the site and are impressed by it.

Jack: Good. Now, all we have to do is wait.

Bobby looks at the guy who designed the whole thing.

Bobby: Good work, bro.

Jack: What’s your name, Evan?

Evan: Yeah. Look, am I getting paid for this?

Jack: If it works out, you’ll get even more. You got the ability to maintain this website?

Evan: Yes. It’s all set up to work to your favor. And, I can also work on a security system for you.

Jack: Good deal, how much is that gonna cost me?

Evan: A big place like this? A few grand.

Brian scoffs, but Jack nods.

Jack: If it’s worth it, You can be my guy for that too.

Evan: Hey, if you’re buying, I’m flying.

Jack: Fair enough, we’ll work out more details as we move along.

Evan: It’ll be a commission. I can get a guy out here in a few days.

Jack: Good. You get on that. It’ll pay more than it’s worth, trust me.

Brian: Stick, let me talk to you.

Jack pats both Bobby and Evan on the shoulder as he and Brian go off to speak privately, a safe distance away.

Brian: You thought about what happens if the feds show up?

Jack: We don’t have anything illegal just yet.

Brian: But you will.

Jack: It’s not something I want to do, man. But what choice do I have? The Mexicans can make life miserable for me, and for everybody on this little project if we don’t at least start to play ball with them.

Brian: And then what? The money may be good, but at the end of the day, all this shit goes away if you’re involved with it.

Jack: That’s where Benny comes in.

Brian stares at Jack, knowing exactly what he meant.

Brian: Don’t tell me you’re going to put him name on this place?

Jack: Look, if Benny takes the fall, that’s our out. I can distance myself from this place, because I bought it, but I don’t know what goes on all over the place here. I have a fallback, it is one thing my dad didn’t have. An escape plan. If the feds come nosing around here, Benny’s name is up for the hit, not mine. In fact, the only thing I’m really going to do, is endorse this place.

Brian: Endorse?

Jack: When I win the championship, I’m the hometown champion man. Picture it, a whole ribbon cutting ceremony, endorsed by the Sin City Wrestling world champion. It’ll work.

Brian: It had better. You can just as easily go down as an accomplice.

Jack: That’s why I called it a learning experience.

Brian: Okay.

Brian is satisfied for now, and Jack heads back to look out over the floor, until there is a knock at the door. Benny pushes his way in through them, eyeing everyone in room. His bodyguards flanking him on ether side.

Jack: Well Benny, if you came here for a shootout, don’t waste any more time.

Benny stared at Jack, and then at Brian.

Benny: Brian.

Brian: Benny.

Benny waved his guards off.

Jack: I hope you thought about our little arrangement. Though, if you came to tell me no in person, I’d respect you even more.

Benny: Stop breaking my balls kid. I came to talk business.

Jack: So talk.

Benny cleared his throat. He stood in silence for a few moments before he finally spoke up.

Benny: I need to see what you’ve got. And if I like it…. I’m in.

Jack: Fair enough. Have a seat and we’ll get to business.

Benny: You got another one of them cigars?

Brian: Fucking hell, stick, you gave him one of my cigars?

Jack: All part of the negotiations, man.]

Jack motions for Evan and Bobby to vacate the room and the desk. Jack sits down at the desk, allowing Benny to sit in front of him.

Jack; Let’s talk business, Benny.

Benny takes a seat.

Benny: Alright kid, I’m listening.

Jack: Let me tell you about this place, and how it’s the start of something special.

--

On Camera:

Click

Jack has moved the camera to give us a nice view of his balcony with the sunset heading over Vegas. Jack sits in his room chair, feet kicked up on the balcony, enjoying the view.

Jack: It’s beautiful isn’t it? Almost as beautiful as the job I’m doing on Alex Jones.

It is amazing how bad Alex is doing at this. It shocks me how bad this guy is at literally everything, and has still been a champion. I swear to you, that Griffin Hawkins had to have like an off night to lose to Alex Jones. I’m going to blame him for what we’ve got now for a champion. Like, you couldn’t have had a bad day somewhere else? You had to give this to Alex Jones. Now this dude is walking around with a title he has no business carrying anymore and thinking he has a legitimate chance to not get his ass whipped at Violent Conduct. But, I got the job to do, so therefore, I’m going to do it.

Jack eases himself out of his chair, pushing it aside, an almost confused look on his face.

Jack: I get the feeling that you don’t like me much, Alex.

I don’t know, I just get this vibe from you and I just start thinking like, I don’t think this dude likes me one bit. I think he thinks I’m just some dude you don’t care about me. And you know what? The feeling is mutual. I’m going to keep it real, because that’s what I do, I never heard your name until you won that championship. I never bothered to look up who you were, and what you’ve accomplished. Thankfully you listed them all off last time and that’s all well and good, but the truth is, I lost interest after like the first few words. I said it before, I’ll say it again... you’re boring. You’re white bread. You just couldn’t hold my attention last time, and I just started to like play on my phone, I had you on in the background like ambient noise. It took me like 3 tries, but I finally got through the whiny bullshit.

Now, on the other hand, I KNOW you were listening to me.

Why? Because I’m actually entertaining and charismatic. Shit you wish you were. I don’t need a lame gimmick or nickname, I’m just Jack, because that’s all I need to be. Even your man Austin Mercer knew it when he complimented me way back in the day. But I also figure you were listening because I ran you down like nobody’s ever done to you in your life, Alex. I just laid all the cards on the table and you come up with the short end my guy. You may be thinking about how I’m some punk and you’re going to teach me respect, and blah, blah, blah… all because I talked shit about you? Bro, that’s the name of this game. It’s not my fault that all you can talk about is how you’ve done this, or you’ve done that. Because you need to make it look convincing that you think you’re going to win. But you know deep down in your soul that you aren’t, and you are simply going to be my biggest stepping stone to date.

And it burns you even more that there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.

The best you can do, is call me an asshole.

Jack shrugs, not really bothered by the comment.

Jack: To which, I say… yeah, you’re right. I am an asshole. I will tell you the truth, whether you like it or not. I don’t go around and bullshit people. I tell them what I think and tough shit if you can’t handle it. Sorry, I don’t have time to sugarcoat the shit sandwich the world is. I don’t have time to tell you that everything is going to be okay and I really respect you and this is all a front. Because that would make me a liar. You’re just mad that I’m a better asshole than you can be. I mean, you have the nerve, the fucking nerve the bitch at me, about being an asshole, and say I can’t be a leader because no one likes me and that that somehow disqualifies me from being world championship material.

And less than 5 minutes before that, rambled on about how this is dog eat dog and you gotta look out for number one and you will stab everyone you care about in the back. I swear Alex, if you were a little smarter, you’d realize how stupid you sound.

It’s incredible obvious it’s you who is desperate for something to latch onto. You want to pick out flaws in me. Go ahead, I got plenty, I ain’t perfect, never claimed to be like some people I could mention. I’m no saint, not by a long shot. I’ve rough, I’m dirty, I’m fucking grimy. I never learned how to be a phony motherfucker like you. I was always taught about loyalty and being a stand up man. That’s why people relate to me, more than you. I know I need to look out for number one. But I’m also a coward who can’t lead people, okay dude, clearly you are really in your feelings and desperate to find an edge.

I’m sorry, that I’m ahead of the curve on that. It’s because of nut sacks like you I don’t actually trust any wrestlers. Because they will do exactly what you said you would. Why in the fuck would anyone follow you anywhere? If I were your students, I’d try to get my money back after hearing that. I mean, you heard it straight from the man’s mouth, he’d sell you out in a heartbeat if it meant he got something. Is that the kind of man you want being the face of anything? The man who literally told you he’s going to be two-faced and greedy?

Jack just shakes his head, confused but then points to himself.

Jack: At least, when I do it, I don’t have to stab anyone in the back. I will stab them in the front, straight in their fucking heart. Just like I did you last time. And I know you’ve been pacing back and forth kicking shit in your run-down apartment or whatever, big mad because I dared to insult you. Because I disrespected you. And you know what? GOOD. Maybe you will actually have some fire in your eyes at Violent Conduct so that it’s not a complete waste of everyone’s time to see me climb to the top. I’m glad you’ve been mad. And I know you’re not going to try and play it off like you weren’t in your feelings. I didn’t see any sweet edgelord tweets. I didn’t see you change your twitter handle. Alex Jones was a fucking ghost on social media wasn’t he? Yeah, you’ve been thinking long and hard about what you’re going to do to me at Violent Conduct and how you want to not only beat me, but fucking hurt me. Yeah, yeah man, I can fucking feel that shit from here.

And it’s the most interesting you’ve been your whole life.

I HOPE it’s the most insulted you’ve even been Alex. I’m just happy that somebody finally told you what you needed to hear. If it came from me, then so be it.

Jack regains the intense look we’ve come to see over and over.

Jack: Let’s just drive this point home Alex, you don’t impress me. Not in the slightest. I couldn’t care less about how you beat this guy or that guy, or you main evented this show or you won this title from this place or that place.  I don’t give a fuck who you trained either. I don’t give a fuck who likes you or thinks your cool or some kind of legend. None of that shit matters to me. You are nothing more than a name across from mine as this point. You just happen to have the championship.

All that matters is that championship you have, right now. And to take it from you, I will beat your ass in front of your students. I will beat your ass in front of your fans. I will beat your ass in front of your family. I will beat your ass in front of your ugly ass wife. I will beat your ass in front of your snot-nosed kid. And then you can look him in the eye and tell him “daddy failed.”

It doesn’t matter how I do it, or who I have to insult or threaten, Alex. I will cross any line to get what I want. I will step on any toes. The only difference is, I’m not going to be buddy-buddy with people before I do it.

I will tell you the same thing I told Ben Jordan, I will do anything I have to in order to win. If I have to bite you, scratch you, put my feet on the ropes, hit you with a chair or the damn title belt. If I have to kick you in your baby nuts, I will do it. The only thing that matters, is that I win. You said it yourself, this is cut throat, dog eat dog. So don’t be shocked, don’t be surprised, and don’t make excuses, Alex.  You know what it is, my guy. You should know all about this. By hook, or by crook, don’t matter to me. I will take any edge I can get. I will take advantage of any situation. I will say anything I have to, to get you off your game. And you know I’ve already done that part. I’m in your head Alex. I live there now. And I will be there for a long, long time. Can you imagine how much bragging I’m going to do after saying everything I’ve said and then I win?

Damn, it’s going to suck to be you.

Jack shrugs, and folds his arms.

Jack: But you’re too cool for that, right? Do you know how cool Alex Jones is everybody? He’s won championships all over the place. Do you know cool Alex Jones is? I actually had to look this up, because it’s real. He was mentioning companies he’s wrestled for, so I took the time to see all these wins, and yes, his accomplishments hold up. It’s amazing. But… I couldn’t find anything from this “IWF” company. So, I’m not sure is he’s making it up or not. Are we padding stats Alex? Does this place exist or not? Are you just trying to tell everyone you won all these titles when you really didn’t? Is that what we’re doing these days?

I mean, it fits the bill at this point. A total fraud who has had to make up personas for himself and pretend to be someone far more interesting than he is.

But I think I understand the strategy here. You just want to pretend that you’ve really won something here. You have to feel like the winner. You have to feel important. It’s all over everything you say. I’ve trained this guy, I’ve trained that guy, I’ve won this title, I’ve won that title. It’s about making yourself seem far more important. You really want that recognition so bad, because you have literally nothing else to fall back on. You are such a blank slate as a person, that this is all you can cover that with. You are so void of anything resembling a personality that’s not phony as fuck, that you just have to list accomplishments. So, because I don’t have those accomplishments, you are better than me, right?

Jack scoffs.

Jack: It’s amazing how desperate you are for those 15 minutes of fame where everyone tells you you’re great.

Your name isn’t mentioned with the greatest people in this business, and that pisses you off. Your name isn’t put into top 10’s or top 5’s or whatever, and you’re in your feelings about it. But I can tell you why that is. Yeah, it’s pretty easy to figure out, my dude. When people think of you, they don’t think of your accomplishments, they think of the dude who won’t shut the fuck up about himself.

You’re that dude. That dude that when people say “don’t be that dude.” That’s you they’re talking about. You just scream “fucking awful” and “Attention seeker” I mean, who was thinking about Alex Jones before he won the SCW championship? Who was talking about Alex Jones before that? Nobody. Not a soul. But, I get it man, when opportunity knocks, you gotta be there. And low and behold, you rose from near obscurity and won the world title. And rather than I don’t know, be thankful you got plucked out of nowhere to get a title match, it’s time to endlessly boast about how great you are. But let me chastise this guy for this, or let me get in somebody’s ear to talk about that guy. Because you, have to make yourself feel better about the blank slate you are.

And you know, it took you literally 5 minutes to get comfortable with that championship. Now you’re god, you’re better than everyone and two months ago you were probably going to retire or some shit. You have an unreal ability to change everything about yourself on a dime. I mean, it must be really easy for you to change who you are when you have nothing permanent in your whole life. Nothing, absolutely nothing about you is real aside from your accomplishments. You have used fake names, fake companies, and real people, to get yourself the recognition, and then whine and cry like a bitch when you aren’t given as much as you expect, and at the same time, tell me, and everyone else, it’s because you care. It’s because you’ve done so much. “Please give me credit. Please.” This isn’t a fucking school exam, you know. You can’t keep asking for extra credit all the fucking time. “Look, I did this, give me partial credit, boost my score!”

Jack simply shakes his head, like a disappointed parent

Jack: You are a sad, pathetic excuse for a man, my guy. It is why it will be such a pleasure to take that SCW world championship off of you. I went into this, knowing very little about you, and the more I learned, the less I wanted to know. I felt dumber for trying to even look up anything about you. It made my faith in humanity drop to a pretty low point, to know that a fucking snake like you has done anything in the ring and is looked at as someone who’s anything but a snake. You are a joke, bruh. A fucking joke. And it this point, it’s sad. It’s almost cruel to even let you walk around with that championship, just so you can delude yourself into thinking you’re hot shit again. We’ve done this shit ten times, right Alex? You win a championship, and then you lose it, and go like 6 months doing fuck all, but then you pop back up like fucking pimple, and you’re hot shit again. And it goes on and on like some sick joke. So, I guess, it’s up to me, to put this story to bed, for at least another 6 months, but with the way I’m feeling, it might be for fucking good.

At Violent Conduct, I’m going to beat you like a dog, Alex. I am going to embarrass you in the ring, and leave you laying as I win the championship. And while you’ve got that too cool thing going on, you better get serious because I am out to hurt you. You are entering the ring with a violent person, who is not afraid to snap arms, legs, or necks. You will simply go down as a transitional champion who just kept the title warm for the true star. And you know that’s the truth Alex. As much as you want to deny it and tell everyone you’re better than them and you’re a leader and all that happy horseshit, you know that at Violent Conduct, you are nothing but a speed bump for me.

This is my coronation as the face of the franchise, dude. You understand that, right? It’s a simple thing. You know how in sports when the aging player is on the team and the team drafts his replacement? That’s exactly what this is. You are a stop-gap. You plugged the hole until the team decided to put me in. Now that I’m in, we don’t need you anymore. You are expendable. You can be a cost cutting measure as we release you back into obscurity where you can find someone else looking for a stop-gap, or an “experienced” player. We don’t need that here anymore. This is MY time. I don’t give a shit about how you don’t think I can lead or be a great champion or whatever. All that is to me, is a bitter man who usefulness has expired. There’s a reason they put me on the field, and there’s a reason I’m going to take you off.

Jack finally stares into the camera, his eyes piercing the screen.

Jack: Get it through your head Alex: you’re done. Time’s up. I told you that you only had two weeks left, and every day, we inch closer and closer to me beating the shit out of you, taking the SCW championship for myself, doing it by myself, and having it, for myself.

You’re hiding behind this false confidence and experience. You want to believe that you’ve seen someone like me before. That you’ve seen people like me come and go, right? I’m a dime a dozen, flavor of the month, or whatever the old saying is. But you know as well and I do that you don’t know me. You know me well enough to know that you don’t know me at all. I am unlike anyone or anything you’ve come across in wrestling. I’ve had you eating out of the palm of my hand, while you still think I’m eating out of yours. You’ve got your bird chest puffed out like you’ve done something while I’ve made you believe I’m charging into this match with my head down. But my head is up, my dude. I’ve waited for this opportunity like no other, and you, you have taken the bait hook, line & sinker. You chomp at every little bit, you are mind fucked and you don’t even know it. I have had you on strings the entire time because I have allowed you to think that you are where you were 10 years ago, but you’re not. Leaving my team high and dry? All these comments, they’ve all made you dance like a puppet.  You will be kicking yourself when you realize just how badly you fucked up.


But I won’t need any tricks or mind games at Violent Conduct. Not at all. All I need, is what I have here. Me, myself, and I. And you can walk away after this match, with your hurt pride, licking your wounds and wondering what the fuck happened. But I’ll give you a spoiler: I happened. You will not have to look far to know who did this to you. You will not have to search far and wide to see the man who took you apart physically, mentally & verbally. All of this, was one man, and that’s me.
 
And please, save yourself the fucking time and don’t congratulate me when it’s over. Don’t tell me that now you respect me after I whoop your ass. Just don’t. Stay fucking silent, and walk away from this L and move on to something else. Or bitch about how I cheated or I’m not a real champion, whatever you prefer. You don’t have to listen to me on advice, even though you should. I’d just prefer it if you just talked even more trash and pissed and moaned about life, rather than pull a 180 and blow smoke up my ass. The fact is you never were ready for this smoke, because I ain’t Griffin Hawkins, I don’t prance around and flip my fair around, son. My name, is Jack Washington. If you’ve been paying attention, I’ve been beating people’s asses in this company for 7 months, and you’re name just happens to be next on the lineup, Alex.

I said it before, and I will say it here one more time. I was close last time. And this time, I will get the job done.

Get used to this face, Sin City Wrestling. You are looking at the next World Heavyweight Champion!

Jack makes sure the camera is focused on his eyes as we cut to black.

Click.

Watch. This. Space