Author Topic: JACK WASHINGTON (c) v O'MALLEY - WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP  (Read 1717 times)

Offline Christian Underwood

  • TAFKATPF aka The Artist Formerly Known As The Pink Flamingo
  • Administrator
  • Hero Member
  • *****
  • Posts: 7592
    • View Profile
    • Christian Underwood
Post all roleplays for this match here.
Limits: 1 roleplay per week, per character, 10,000 limit.

Good luck!


“To err is human - but it feels divine.”
? Mae West

Offline O Malley

  • Match Writers
  • Hero Member
  • *****
  • Posts: 2124
    • View Profile
    • O'Malley
Re: JACK WASHINGTON (c) v O'MALLEY - WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP
« Reply #1 on: March 26, 2021, 12:14:08 PM »
The Five Stages of Grief
Part 1

Tuesday February 16th
DENIAL

Today is the day that O’Malley and Darcy have been waiting a month and a half for. Well, one of the days. Given the fact that they were granted full custody of Owen recently and he was now living with them where he should be, this is the second day they’ve been looking forward to. Ever since Darcy had revealed the news to O’Malley that she was pregnant, they simply couldn’t wait to find out if they were giving Owen a baby brother or sister.

They were tempted to wait until the baby was born to find out the gender, but coupled with their own excitement was Owen’s as well. He didn’t seem to care either way, but he begged them to find out. And far be it from them to turn him down for anything he asked for right now. So today is finally the day of her twenty week ultrasound where they will hopefully find out what they are having. Of course, there’s always the slight possibility that the baby would refuse to cooperate, but they were hoping that wouldn't be the case.

They had arrived at the doctor’s office with plenty of time to spare before their appointment, but as can be the case with any OB visits, their appointment is now running behind while they wait for Darcy’s doctor. O’Malley’s leg is bouncing up and down as he looks around the waiting room. Darcy is flipping through a magazine trying to ignore her husband’s anxious behavior, but it becomes too much and she has to say something.


Darcy: Sweetie, would you please stop bouncing your leg like that? It’s driving me crazy.

O’Malley: Oh. Sorry, love. I didn’t realize I was doin’ that.

His leg finally goes still and Darcy cracks a smile. She glances at him from the corner of her eye and shakes her head.

Darcy: It’s a wonder how that is even possible. Why are you so anxious?

O’Malley: I can’t help it. I’ve never been to one of these appointments. Ye know I never had the chance before Owen was born. I dunno what to expect.

Darcy chuckles. She closes the magazine and returns it to the pile on the table next to her before turning to face O’Malley.

Darcy: They are fairly simple appointments. It’s nothing too invasive or that is going to cause me or the baby any harm. So just relax.

She takes his hand in hers and gives it a squeeze. He smiles and takes in a deep breath and then moves his other hand to her belly, which had a slight baby bump just beginning to form.

O’Malley: Still haven’t felt any kicks yet?

Darcy shakes her head, and for a moment she looks slightly concerned but shrugs it off.

Darcy: Not that I can tell, no. But I’ve heard that some women don’t feel anything until after twenty weeks, so I’d imagine I’ll feel something soon. Maybe placing your hand on my belly will entice the baby a bit to get kicking.

A strange look crosses O’Malley’s face, but before he has a chance to question anything, the door leading to the back examination rooms opens and a nurse appears with a chart in her hand.

Nurse: Darcy O’Malley?

At the sound of her name, she and O’Malley stand up and follow the nurse to the exam room. The nurse hands her a gown to change into and informs them the ultrasound tech will be in shortly, and the doctor shortly there after. They remain relatively quiet as Darcy changes into the gown then gets on to the exam table, pulling the drape over her legs. She looks to O’Malley and laughs when notices his leg is bouncing up and down again.

Darcy: O’Malley…

He looks up at her and her tilted head before looking down to his anxiously bouncing leg. He immediately stops and when he’s about to speak again, the door opens and the ultrasound tech, a strawberry blonde woman in her thirties, walks through the door.

Tech: Darcy? My name is Sarah and I’m going to perform your ultrasound today. Is this your first pregnancy?

Darcy: Technically, no. But I miscarried my first pregnancy about six years ago before I even had my first appointment.

Darcy leans back on the exam table as Sarah the tech prepares the equipment. Unsure of what else to do, O’Malley stays seated and just watches.

Tech: I’m very sorry to hear that. Your chart says you’re twenty weeks which is great. Anything concerns you have so far?

Darcy: I don’t think so. It seems to be advancing pretty well.

O’Malley: We haven’t felt the baby kick yet, though. Don’t other women feel movement sooner?

Tech: They can, yes. But each pregnancy is different. Once I do the ultrasound, the doctor will review everything and have a better idea. Alright, are you ready?

Darcy turns her head and looks at O’Malley. They each nod and Darcy smiles before turning back to face the tech as well as the ultrasound monitor. The tech squeezes some gel onto Darcy’s belly then places the ultrasound probe just over it. Everything goes quiet as she moves it around and they can see a clear image of the baby on the monitor. Darcy and O’Malley smile as they look at the image of their child, but what they don’t see is the now blank expression on the tech’s face. She moves the probe around a little more and then pulls it away, setting it down on a tray next to the monitor. Her silence immediately bothers O’Malley.

O’Malley: Is...is that it? Why are ye so quiet?

Darcy: Relax, sweetie. Let the woman do her job.

Tech: As I said earlier, I perform the ultrasound and then the doctor will come in to review everything and speak to you. He should be a few minutes.

She offers them a polite smile then turns and heads out of the room. O’Malley stands up and finally moves to Darcy’s side, still clearly bothered by how everything has gone so far. But he does his best to shake it off.

Darcy: I know this whole process is new to you. This stage of the pregnancy is even newer to me, too, but you have to relax. You’re really starting to make me anxious and I don’t need that right now.

O’Malley: Sorry, love. It just seems strange how that all went. Ye’d think she’d be able to say something.

Darcy: She’s just a technician. She’s not supposed to actually reveal any results or anything.

O’Malley scratches his head and does his best to believe her. Just as he is about to say something in response, the door opens again and the doctor walks in. He’s a middle aged gentleman with distinguished salt and pepper hair.

Doctor: Lovely to see you again, Darcy. I assume this is your husband?

O’Malley: Husband and father of the little one she’s carrying. Nice to meet ye, doc.

Darcy: You’ll have to forgive him in advance, Dr. Monroe. He was a little baffled that Sarah didn’t say anything a few minutes ago.

Dr. Monroe smiles and grabs the ultrasound probe. He squeezes a little bit more of the gel onto Darcy’s belly.

Dr. Monroe: Expectant fathers usually are. But let’s take a look at everything.

All eyes turn to the monitor as once again they are given a clear view of the baby. Dr. Monroe moves the probe around much in the same manner that the tech had done and this time, O’Malley looks at him and notices the look on his face.

O’Malley: What? What is it?

Darcy now looks towards Dr. Monroe, also noticing his expression. Dr. Monroe sighs but keeps his eyes focused on the monitor.

Dr. Monroe: Darcy, you said you hadn’t felt any movement from the baby yet, correct?

Darcy: No. Not yet, but Sarah said it wasn’t too concerning. Is something wrong?

Dr. Monroe: I’m afraid so. We both have studied every angle we could, but there’s no heartbeat. I’m very sorry.

Darcy and O’Malley quickly look at one another and then look to the monitor. O’Malley’s jaw drops and Darcy just stares, hoping to see something the doctor didn’t.

Darcy: What? Are...are you sure?

O’Malley: There’s gotta be some sort of mistake. Look again. Ye’ll find it. Ye have to find it.

Dr. Monroe puts the probe back down on the tray and shakes his head. Darcy is quickly becoming distraught as O’Malley shakes his head and Dr. Monroe looks at the both of them.

Dr. Monroe: I’m very sorry, Mr. O’Malley. But we’ve looked. Your baby has died. Due to the stage of pregnancy, we’ll need to schedule an induction for tomorrow to deliver—

O’Malley: Deliver?! Ye said the baby died! Why the—

Darcy squeezes his hand and he looks down at her. She shakes her head with tears in her eyes and just weeps and all O’Malley can do is lean down and comfort her as best he can. But it doesn’t feel like enough, as the confusion over the entire situation has his head spinning. None of it makes sense..

The Following Day…

The past twenty-four hours have been anything but easy on O’Malley and Darcy. What should have been a happy time in their lives has now turned to heartbreak as they are dealing with the loss of their unborn child. They had hoped to find out the gender, but ultimately found out the baby had no heartbeat and had died. And what made matters worse, at least for O’Malley, was that this wasn’t a situation where Darcy’s body would just lose the pregnancy naturally any longer. She was past that point and now had to go through labor and delivery.

Before leaving for the hospital, they had taken Owen to his grandparents for the next couple of days. He was curious as to what was going on, but they weren’t prepared to try and explain the situation just yet, so they put it off for a little while. Darcy would only be in the hospital overnight at least so they had some time to figure it out.

As for right now, they are currently in the process of waiting for the labor to progress. Darcy had been admitted and prepared and the medications were now being given through and IV to get the labor going. Darcy was anxious to get it over with, but judging by the look on O’Malley’s face, his mind was off in its own world. After a long silence, Darcy turns her attention to him.


Darcy: I can’t stand this silence anymore. Say something, please.

He quickly shakes his head and looks at her. Thankfully, she doesn’t look too uncomfortable yet.~/i>

O’Malley: None of this makes sense, Darc. They shouldn’t be inducin’ ye like this.

Darcy: It’s not supposed to make sense. Dr. Monroe said that this happens sometimes and they don’t have an answer for it. Our baby died and we’ll honestly never know why.

He shakes his head, stands up and walks over to her bedside. He places a hand on her belly, and continues shaking his head.

O’Malley: We need to get a second opinion. Our baby...she’s not dead, Darc. They need to stop yer labor.

Darcy: Please, stop. We’re not getting a second opinion because we don’t need to. I know I wanted to have a baby, but this just wasn’t meant to be. She’s gone, O’Malley. Our daughter is gone.

She sniffles and tears roll down her cheek. As difficult a situation as this is for her to face, she’s clearly doing a much better job at handling it than O’Malley. He refuses to take his hand away from her belly as he leans down and buries his head into her chest and sobs. She places her hand on his head and consoles him as best as she can.

Darcy: We’ll try again. It’ll take time, but we’ll give Owen a brother or sister. We’ll get through this…

He can’t even hear the words. He just weeps and fights through the denial in his mind.



ANGER
One Week Ago


It’s been a whole month now since the loss of O’Malley and Darcy’s unborn daughter. And they were doing the best that they could to move on from their tragedy and heartache. What made it easier, perhaps, was the fact that they had Owen to think about, and he has truly been the light in such a dark time for their family. Even though he was only going on six years old, he had managed to comfort them more than they thought possible.

After they had returned home from the hospital and O’Malley had picked Owen up from his grandparents’ house, then came the difficult task of breaking the news to Owen. He had been so excited about becoming a big brother, O’Malley just couldn’t figure out how to tell him what had happened. Amazingly though, Darcy knew just what to say and although Owen was sad and even slightly confused on the situation, he was familiar with loss and understood it to a degree. What shocked O’Malley was when his son had promised them that his mother would look after his baby sister in heaven, even if she was not the baby’s mother.

Those words have stuck with O’Malley since Owen had spoken them. As comforting as they should be, it had sent him down a path he hadn’t been in in quite some time. He could no longer deny that his daughter was gone; never given a chance at a life on earth. But his denial had quickly transitioned to anger that day. And not at Owen. Never at him. No, he was angry at the entire situation, and at the world. It simply wasn’t fair.

Everything was setting him off after that. People could see it on the episodes of Climax Control in the weeks following. But nobody, except Christian Underwood, knew why, because O’Malley couldn’t get himself to tell anyone what was going on in his personal life. Not now, anyway. He had been working so hard to get a World Heavyweight Championship shot against Kris Ryans, before he lost to Jack Washington of course, and he didn’t want those who hated him to use this against him. As awful as that sounds, he knew there would be those who would.

He needed to let off some steam. And right now, leading into the most important one-on-one match of his career, the only way he knew how was to train as much and as hard as possible. If anyone had questioned his aggression, he had the perfect excuse to use. He wouldn’t allow himself to fail again. Not this time. Not against Jack Washington.

Gabriel currently has him sparring in the ring against a fighter much like Jack’s build and fighting style. The younger fighter is giving O’Malley a run for his money, but as he starts to get O’Malley backed into a corner, refusing to let up, O’Malley’s blood starts to boil. And he has had enough. He quickly gets in one good shot against his opponent, enough to send him stumbling back and giving O’Malley the chance to take control. But what O’Malley does is completely lose it.

He grabs the kid by his head, spins him around and throws him into the corner turnbuckles. He begins unleashed a fury of powerful strikes and knee kicks and when the kid gets his hands up, signalling for a break, O’Malley refuses. He just keeps hitting him over and over, and harder and harder. He’s lost all control and Gabriel has to intervene.


Gabriel: O’Malley! He signalled for a break! Back off!

But O’Malley doesn’t respond. It’s like he hasn’t even heard Gabriel. Gabriel tries again, but O’Malley is just going nuts, and finally Gabriel and one of the others had to jump into the ring to pull O’Malley away. O’Malley lets out a furious growl, but his young opponent quickly darts through the ropes and Gabriel holds him back.

Gabriel: What the hell is wrong with you?! You were told to back off!

O’Malley: Oh c’mon! I wasn’t goin’ that hard on him!

Gabriel: It doesn’t matter if you think that. He put up the signal and I told you to back off. What is going on with you lately?

O’Malley doesn’t answer. He can’t. He just drops down to the mat and takes in a few deep breaths. Gabriel knows there is more going on than O’Malley is willing to tell, but he has to get to the bottom of it. If O’Malley wants to stand a chance at becoming the World Heavyweight Champion, he needs to work through whatever is going on.

Gabriel: Alright, everyone else go take a break. O’Malley you stay here. We’re gonna have a little chat.

O’Malley: Gabriel, I’m—

Gabriel: Don’t say you’re fine, because you’re not. Take a breather and once everyone clears out, we’re gonna talk.

O’Malley sighs but he stays put right where he is and does as he is told. It takes several moments but everyone else clears out of the training center and heads outside for some fresh air. Once everyone is out, Gabriel turns back around to face O’Malley. He folds his arms and leans back into the corner.

Gabriel: Alright, I haven’t said anything up until now, because I didn’t think much of it, but something is clearly going on.

O’Malley: Nothing is going on. I just let me determination get the best of me is all. Ye know how bad I want to win this.

Gabriel nods for a moment but he takes a step forward and drops his hands.

Gabriel: Yeah, I do. And I want you to win this one just as much, but doing stuff like you just did won’t do you any favors. All it will do is end up getting you disqualified and Jack keeps that belt. Trust me when I say that’s not something you want to deal with the fallout from.

O’Malley: I’m not gonna get disqualified. I’m not that stupid to do somethin’ like that in a match like this. I just got carried away.

Gabriel shakes his head as he stares down at O’Malley. O’Malley is trying so hard to keep it together, and no matter how much he denies it or tries to hide it, Gabriel can see right through it.

Gabriel: Seriously. What is it? Are you and Darcy fighting again or something? Is this about Owen?

O’Malley closes his eyes and shakes his head.

O’Malley: No, we’re not fightin’ again and this isn’t about Owen. This is about life constantly throwin’ shite at the both of us and me tryna figure out why.

Gabriel: Ok. You’ve lost me. Care to elaborate?

Gabriel raises an eyebrow and O’Malley looks up at him. He’a still fighting it, because he knew the kind of attention he would start getting from people.

Gabriel: If you don’t get it off your chest and talk about it, it’s only going to keep festering. You need to work—

O’Malley: Darcy lost the baby. A little girl. Our daughter.

He just blurted it out and felt the emotions building up yet again. Gabriel’s jaw nearly hit the floor and he took a step back, completely shocked at the news. And not only shocked, but heartbroken for him.

Gabriel: Damn. I…I don’t even know what to say.

O’Malley: Ye and me both, Gabriel. The past few weeks have been pure hell. At least for me.

Gabriel: Well now I know why. Why didn’t you take time off when all of this happened? No one would have blamed you.

O’Malley lets out a frustrated laugh and shakes his head.

O’Malley: I need to fight. And Darcy told me to keep fighting. Would ye believe she’s been stronger during all of this than I have? And she’s been amazing with Owen. All while I’m goin’ day to day pissed off at the world and questioning why this shite happened.

Gabriel: I honestly can’t even imagine being in your shoes right now, O’Malley. There’s no words. Which is why now I’m thinking this match is not a good idea. Even if Darcy told you to keep going, you need to grieve.

O’Malley looks up at Gabriel and again shakes his head. As rough as things are right now, he can’t walk away from this match. He needs to probe that even in the worst of times, he can rise above it all.

O’Malley: It’s too late to walk away from this match, Gabriel. And trust me, as fecked up as things are right now, when it all comes down to it, I’ll walk away as the new champ. I’m not gonna lose another match. I’m not gonna lose anything else right now.

Gabriel: I’m gonna be honest with ya, I’m not sure this is a good idea. You’re in a vulnerable place right now and if Jack Washington finds out about this, he might very well rip you apart.

O’Malley: Let him. It’ll just make him look like a dick anyway.

Gabriel shakes his head.

Gabriel: I don’t think you understand what I meant. I meant that if he finds out that you’re pushing forward with this instead of being at home with your wife and son at a time like this, he’ll use that against you. A lot of people might. It’s ultimately your decision, but you’ve gotta think about this.

O’Malley finally jumps back to his feet, gathering himself and taking in a few deep breaths.

O’Malley: Let them. The fact is that it’s no one’s business anyway. I’m dealing with this in me own way in me own time. I don’t give a shite what anyone thinks.

Gabriel: Well clearly there is no changing your mind. You know O and I will always have your back and if you and Darcy need anything, you let us know. As for right now, you’re done for the day. And actually, the rest of the week.

O’Malley’s eyes widen and he shakes his head.

O’Malley: What? Ye can’t be serious. I can’t take the rest of the week off. I need to be ready…

Gabriel: And you will be. You have all of next week to get ready before Blaze of Glory. We’ll figure out a game plan next week. No arguments. Go spend time with your family.

O’Malley gives Gabriel a pleading look, but Gabriel does not budge. He knows O’Malley needs a break, and while it should be longer under the circumstances, the rest of the week would have to do for now. O’Malley finally nods with a reluctant sigh.

O’Malley: Alright. Fine. Maybe yer right.

Gabriel: Of course I’m right. Now go take a shower and get out of here. And let Darcy know O and I will be thinking about her.

O’Malley: I will. But do me a favor. Don’t tell anyone else but Odette. I’ll let everyone else know when I’m ready.

Gabriel nods.

Gabriel: Of course. It’s not my business to tell.

O’Malley: Thanks.

O’Malley lets out one final sigh before he walks past Gabriel and exits the ring. He grabs his personal towel from off the bench before making his way to the men’s locker room to take a hot shower and then leave. While he was still angry over his grief, he now somehow felt better, if only for the moment. He would take the rest of the week as Gabriel suggested and prayed that he would somehow find clarity in all of this.

Prayed...that gave him an idea, and he knew what he had to do next. Where he had to go…




O’Malley has taken a few days and tried to take Gabriel’s advice. He returned home after his training session and spent time with Darcy and Owen, trying to keep his mind off of what they lost. There were times where he felt like it was working and that his anger just might ease up and he’ll make it through this, but all it took was him walking past what would have been his daughter’s nursery. The door was open just enough and he couldn’t avoid looking inside at the work he and Darcy had already begun in putting it together. And the anger started to build all over again.

It was at that moment that he knew he had to go to the place he thought of the other day. He had taken some time to think it over before committing to that decision but it had to be done. So he found a moment to step out of the house and make the drive. Owen was taking a nap, and O’Malley had told Darcy to take the opportunity to rest as well and he would be back by the time they were awake. She was curious as to where he was going, but chose not to question him given how hard she knew he was taking this latest loss.

He had been here once before. Several months ago, in fact. Inspiration had hit before his match against Brother David that led him to the Guardian Angel Cathedral then. He hadn’t returned since, but maybe now was the time to do so, he thought. He’d never been overly religious, but under the circumstances, maybe everything going on was a sign that this was what he needed.

He didn’t know for sure, but he had to give it a shot. Anything to help. Anything to try and dull the constant growing roar in the pit of his stomach that was quickly leading to him crashing and burning. After making the drive to the cathedral, he slowly walked inside, trying to calm his nerves before walking through the doors. His ever changing emotions were making him dizzy recently, and he closes his eyes as he steps through the door.

It was quiet, and the energy felt much like it had before. It was strange at first, but as he walked up the aisle, he felt like he made the right choice. Like this was exactly where he needed to be right now. He passed the confessional booth, because there was nothing he felt he needed to confess at the moment, so he made his way closer to the front of the cathedral and took a seat in the second row of pews.

It was strange being in this place all alone, but the quiet gave him time to reflect. He looked up at the statue of Jesus on the Cross hanging on the wall and just...stared at it. He studied it and waited for what seemed like an eternity for some sort of sign, or some kind of message. He finally closed his eyes and slowed his breathing as he sat in silence.

Until he heard the door open.

He tried not to let it distract him. It could be anyone walking through those doors, visiting the church for similar reasons he was. But the footsteps were getting closer, and whoever was there was walking up the aisle much like he had. They came to a stop near him, and O’Malley quietly hoped whoever it was would go away and leave him in peace.


Alistair: Fancy finding you here, Shane. I never knew you were the type to visit a church like this.

O’Malley’s eyes quickly shot open when his brother spoke to him. He turned his head and looked at him, cracking an amused smile and laughing. Of course he was here. What a coincidence that Alistair would be in the same church he was at this moment.

O’Malley: Of course. Of course yer here. I dunno how ye found me, but—

Alistair: Whoa, hold on a second. I had no idea you were here when I walked through those doors. I didn’t even come here looking for you, if I’m honest.

Alistair takes it upon himself to sit next to his brother without even being asked. O’Malley scoots over just a bit, putting some space between them and he stares at Alistair with a raised eyebrow.

O’Malley: Ye expect me to believe that? Shouldn’t yer skin be burning or something in here. Are ye even allowed in his church?

Alistair chuckles.

Alistair: What do you take me for? The devil? You’ll be happy to know my skin is not burning, and I’ve been here before. I was coming here for my confession, but when I saw you sitting up here all alone, something told me you needed some company.

O’Malley now laughs. He’s fairly sure they shouldn’t be talking in the church, but given there was no one else around, he saw no harm in it. But he still chose to keep his voice hushed if only out of respect.

O’Malley: Must be a long list of sins to confess. The priest must have a field day with what ye confess.

Alistair: I know I don’t exactly lead an orthodox lifestyle, Shane. I enjoy the company of both men and women, as well as various other so called sins. You might not have pegged me for the type of man to step foot in a church, but to each their own, right?

O’Malley: I suppose. I just find it...unusual. But what ye do with yer time is not my business anyway.

Alistair grins and looks forward. He folds his arms and he, too, studies Jesus on the Cross.

Alistair: Now isn’t exactly the time to talk about me, or my lifestyle, Shane. I wasn’t expecting you to be here, and considering you look like absolute hell, I’d say there is a very good reason for you being here.

O’Malley: No offense, but I don’t really want to sit here and talk about it. I was enjoying the silence before ye got here anyway.

Alistair: I thought we were past the hostility towards me? At least...I hoped we would be given I helped you get your son back.

O’Malley wanted to be angry at Alistair just then, but something stopped him. As quickly as the anger came, it disappeared just as fast but he still stared at Alistair curiously.

O’Malley: Ye know, I’ve been meaning to ask ye about that. What did ye say to him?

Alistair: That isn’t why you’re here, so quit avoiding. I know you haven’t been my biggest fan since we reunited, but I’m not so terrible that I can’t see when something is going on. You can talk to me. If not, I could always give Darcy a call…

That was enough to get a reaction from O’Malley. He narrowed his eyes quickly before turning his head away and letting himself calm down once again.

O’Malley: Just leave Darcy alone right now. She might be dealing with this better than I am, but—

Alistair: Dealing with what, exactly? Is Owen not taking to her?

O’Malley laughs and shakes his head.

O’Malley: Of course that is the first thought that crossed your mind, but no that’s not it. Owen has been great, and the two of them together have been wonderful.

Alistair: Then what is the problem?

O’Malley: I guess people are gonna have to find out sooner rather than later. I can’t put off the inevitable anymore. She lost the baby, Alistair. That’s why I’m here. Because the anger has been too much recently and I thought I’d find some answers here.

Much like Gabriel had, Alistair goes speechless. O’Malley looks forward again, still feeling at ease in the church, even though he had now told another person about his and Darcy’s loss. And not just any person, but his brother.

Alistair: I’m sorry to hear that, Shane.

O’Malley: I didn’t tell Gabriel this, but ye want to know what Owen said when we told him? Well...when Darcy told him, because I was a complete mess and didn’t know what the hell to say.

Alistair just looked at him, waiting for an answer without even speaking a word.

O’Malley: He said that Misty would take care of the baby in Heaven, even though she’s not her mommy. Seriously. My five and a half year old son had comforting words for us...How messed up is that?

Alistair: Sounds like an amazing kid. How did Darcy react to that?

O’Malley: Some people wouldn’t believe me if I told them but she actually told Owen she was hoping for exactly that. And that she wouldn’t trust anyone else to watch over our baby girl. How did I get so lucky to have a wife and son as amazing as them?

Alistair smiles and then pats O’Malley on the back.

Alistair: That’s the spirit, Shane. I’d say being here has helped you out, then?

O’Malley doesn’t respond. At least not right away. He closes his eyes, takes in a few slow breaths and then nods.

O’Malley: Ye know, I think it has.

Alistair: Good. Now, I think what ye need next is a drink. Alcoholic or non. Your choice, but it’s on me. What do you say? We can talk about anything at all you want or need to talk about.

O’Malley turns and looks at Alistair. Before today, he would have quickly shot down Alistair and refused to spend even another second with him. But he needed this. Alistair was family after all, and he needed to lean on family now more than ever, so something was telling him to accept his brother’s offer.

O’Malley: Alright. Ye’ve got a deal. I just need to call Darcy and let her know so she doesn’t worry.

Alistair: Fantastic.

The two then stand up and leave the pew. As they are walking back down the aisle and heading out of the church, a group of nuns is walking inside. One in particular, the youngest and perhaps newest member of the group, spots Alistair and stops in her tracks. She drops the bible in her hands and an audible thud echoes throughout the church. She hurries to pick it up, avoiding eye contact with Alistair as he and O'Malley pass her on their way out.

O’Malley: Oh for the love of...A nun, Alistair?! REALLY?!

Alistair: Oh if only you knew, Shane. If only you knew.

O’Malley: I don’t want to know. I really don’t.

Alistair chuckles some more as the two finally make their way out of the church and to their cars. They plan out a meeting spot, agreeing they’d meet each other there to continue their chat, before each gets into their cars and heads on their way.



Grief. The one part of life that no one wants to experience, but ultimately we all do at some point or another. Usually, grief is our response to the loss of someone close to us in our lives. Someone we had formed a bond with either throughout the span of years, or even a short amount of time. A family member. A friend. Hell even a beloved family member. We all grieve. I’m no stranger to that.

I’ve experienced more loss in recent years than perhaps anyone else watching can say they have. The amount of tears I’ve shed over the losses I’ve been dealt is immeasurable. But we all rate our grief on a different scale no matter what the circumstance is. Am I right? I can sit here and say that because I lost a wife and a child in the last six years that I know more about grief than anyone else, but who would I be to say that? What gives me the right?

We go through different stages, don’t we? When we lose someone we love that meant so much to us, we go through so many different emotions and it’s all a part of the process. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. There’s probably more, but those are the main ones. Ye know what I’m talkin’ about, Jack. Don’t ye? Ye’ve gone through yer own grieving process recently, and while we’re goin’ up against each other on Sunday at Blaze of Glory, I’m here to help ye.

Ye see, ye might not have lost someone that meant so much to ye, but ye’ve definitely lost something that did. And that something is the thing ye just won back a few weeks ago. The World Heavyweight Championship. Ye see, grief doesn’t just happen over the loss of a person. It can be anything. Anything at all. Even an inanimate object like a title belt. I didn’t realize it before, but after thinkin’ back on the past few months that Kris Ryans held the title, it became clearer and clearer.

First there was yer denial, Jack. It was probably the quickest phase, but it was there. Ye couldn’t believe that Kris actually defeated ye and took what ye thought was yer’s. It had to be a mistake, because ye were better than Kris and there was just no way that he could beat ye and become the new champion. Ye might not have spoken the words, but the look on yer face said enough. Ye just couldn’t believe that your time as champion was up. I get it, Jack. I really do.

And then...there was anger. Not at yerself, though. That anger shot out of ye and was directed at anyone ye could think of to blame fer losing the title. Mainly, that person was me. And yer still angry with me. Ye think that my involvement cost ye the title, even though Kris won fair and square. Ye were disqualified. I never laid a hand on ye, but the anger part of yer grief told ye it was me fault. Again, I understand. I don’t blame ye, Jack. The World Heavyweight Championship was a shining light in yer otherwise quiet life. Losing it wasn’t part of yer plan. Ye simply weren’t ready fer it.

Anger is probably the stage that lasts the longest. Trust me, I know all too well. And it comes in waves. Actually, now that I think about it, all the stages do. But the anger...it can be the most dangerous. Think about it, Jack. And as much as I’m willin’ to take the blame if that’s what ye really want, ye need to take a long look in the mirror and realize ye need to be angry with yerself.

Bargaining. Now there’s a phase that takes a lot out of ye. Ye were no longer denyin’ that ye lost the title, Jack. Ye knew it was gone and while yer anger was gone fer a moment, ye were beggin’ fer it to not be real. Ye were pleadin’ with whatever higher power ye look to fer it all to have been just a terrible nightmare that ye’ll wake up from. Almost like denial now that I think of it, but not quite the same. And perhaps in yer case, ye were beggin’ fer it to return to ye. To get back what ye lost. And ye made it a mission to do just that, right? I certainly would have.

But then came the depression. I’m sure ye won’t admit to goin’ through a depression, but deep down, I know ye did. Why else would ye have disappeared from SCW fer the time that ye did? Why else not say a word on social media and show the attitude ye’ve always had? So ye lost it. Big deal. It didn’t mean ye’d never get it back, obviously. That...that was the depression, Jack. The loss was just too much to handle at the time. The one thing that meant the most to ye, it was now gone. Of course ye’d fall into a dark place and mourn the loss of somethin’ so important to ye. There’s no shame in it, Jack. Really.

Like anger, depression can last a while. It can also be a dangerous phase to be in, Jack. Because if we don’t snap out of it, it can destroy us completely. It can be the hardest to overcome, but ye did it, Jack. Ye fought through it and finally moved on to beacon of hope in grief. Acceptance.

When we finally accept our loss, Jack, only then can we move on with our lives instead of dwelling on what could have been. What should have been. What we lost. That’s what ye did, Jack. Ye were stuck in such a dark place over losing what ye thought was what made ye who ye are or what made ye so great that ye started to lose yerself, Jack. But kudos to ye fer snappin’ out of it a lot quicker than I expected ye to. Ye got over the hurdles and accepted that it was gone, then set yer mind to gettin’ it back. Because at least with a title ye can get it back. It wasn’t as if ye lost a human being that once they’re gone, they ain’t ever comin’ back.

But I hate to break it to ye, Jack. Despite doin’ what ye set yer mind out to do and becomin’ a two time World Heavyweight champ, that accomplishment is gonna be very short lived, because on Sunday, I plan on takin’ me place at the top of the SCW mountain and bein’ what no one thinks I’ll ever do, or even thinks I deserve at all. Yer second reign is only as a placeholder, because me time as World Heavyweight Champion is quickly approaching, and there isn’t a damn thing ye can do about it.

I didn’t want to face ye, Jack. Maybe months ago I did, but this was supposed to be my chance at Kris Ryans. This was supposed to be when I finally got me hands on him one-on-one and proved that when I pinned him at Inception, it definitely counted. And if it was only a one pinfall match, well...he woulda lost that title a lot sooner. Don’t try and deny that, Jack, because it’s just a fact. And ye wanna know what else is a fact? That night...I was better than ye. And that is always gonna eat ye up inside.

But don’t worry, Jack. Losin’ one title doesn’t mean yer time is over. There are two other singles titles ye can go after, and maybe if ye find yerself a decent Bombshell to team with there’s always those mixed tag belts. Ye can still have your place in SCW greatness. Just not at the top. Ye’ll have to accept it bein’ beneath me, because I’m not acceptin’ another loss on Sunday. Victory is solely on me mind.

Just like ye before winnin’ the title back, Jack, I’ve had enough of losin’. At least the losses that I can prevent, and the losses in the ring? Those I can absolutely prevent so I’m doin’ everythin’ in me power to stay on the winnin’ track. Ye might not like it or even believe it, but I’ll make a believer out of ye on Sunday. Just like I’m gonna make believers out of everyone and anyone who doubts me now or has ever doubted me.

It’s me time, Jack. It’s me moment to shine, and the fight yer gonna experience from me will be like nothin’ ye’ve ever seen, Jack. And just know that when the final bell rings after all is said and done...the referee will be raisin’ me hand, Jack. And that title will be handed over to be as yer walkin’ backstage defeated again.

I hope yer ready to go through that grieving process all over again, Jack, because after Blaze of Glory it all begins again. At least I’m givin’ ye a fair warning, though.

See ye Sunday, fella! Oh, and shine up that belt fer me, will ye?

>
>

Offline Jack Washington

  • Jr. Member
  • **
  • Posts: 75
    • View Profile
    • Jack Washington
Re: JACK WASHINGTON (c) v O'MALLEY - WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP
« Reply #2 on: March 26, 2021, 10:12:27 PM »
Prologue:

Jack’s return to the ring was incredibly successful as he won back the SCW World Championship from Kris Ryans with O’Malley serving as the special guest referee. Despite this, Jack was victorious and is now a two-time champion. Jack obviously plans on making this reign longer than the first, and now he must deal with O’Malley in a singles match at Blaze of Glory. Jack didn’t seem overly concerned about this match, but he knew that O’Malley would still do his best to provoke him and everyone around him, and Jack decided he was just sit back and watch O’Malley do what O’Malley did. O’Malley did have every chance to disqualify Jack during the championship match, but chose not to, perhaps in an attempt to get a more favorable outcome for himself, and perhaps curry favor with Jack. But Jack wasn’t ever going to trust or believe in O’Malley or really anyone else but himself. Now with the match approaching and all the talking seemingly done, Jack prepares to defend his newly won championship and erase O’Malley from contention.

 

But more importantly to Jack, even then the championship win, was the return of his brother Jason, the only family, outside of Brian, he had left. But what should have been a happy reunion of two brothers, ended up being a scary sight for Jack to see his older brother had fallen on not only hard times, but there was still something else he was perhaps hiding from Jack. After passing out on Jack’s bathroom floor, Jason resisted going to the hospital, insisting he was fine, and that travel and his recent breakup was the cause of his body seemingly shutting down. Jack remained skeptical of this, and really for the first time in his family life, Jack had to take control. Be it his father or his brother, one of them always looked out for Jack, but now, Jack was forced into this role. He knew his brother wasn’t right, and as much as he had become disappointed in Jason, he was still Jack’s brother, and a part of the family.

 

This had also caused Jack to be rather short with potential enemies and allies alike, as his brother’s presence and condition took center stage. Jack was still planning on allinging with Sonny to get himself out of the deal with the Mexicans, who also knew about Jack’s failure to remove a woman who they deemed expendable. Jack was trying to balance of all this moving forward.

 

Jack needed to figure out what truly was hurting his brother, smooth over business deals, and be aware of the consenquences of those actions, all while preparing for another title defense.


--

Washington Estate

Las Vegas, NV

Two weeks ago.


 

Jack returned to his new home now carrying the World championship attached to his travel bag. He was less manic and more agitated, but it was still something to be proud of. Jack wheeled the travel bag into his room, unstrapping the championship from it and placing it on his bed. He sat next to it, and it was much like the first time he had won it. Although perhaps this time he was able to appreciate more, since it was the second time around. Last time it has slipped away, and he was going to make damn sure it didn’t happen again.

 

He stood up and stretched after a few precious moments with the title alone, and exited the bedroom, leaving the title where it was on the bed. He went down to the guest bedroom and knocked gently on the door. It was later in the night, so he wasn’t expected Jason to be awake, but knowing he was in there, and alive, was a good sign. After no answer, he gently opened the door, letting the light from the hallway burst into the room. A mass laid on the bed, gentle beaths indicating that Jason was there. Jason then slowly rolled over, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He could only make out Jack’s silhouette against the light, but he recognized him.

 

Jason: Sup, bro?

 

Jack: Just checking on you.

 

Jason simply let out a “hm.” and rolled back over. Jack thought about closing the door, but he turned back and stayed there.

 

Jack: Hey, you wanna see it?

 

Jason didn’t respond. Jack again looked into the room through the light, and saw that Jason had gone still and back to slow, steady breaths. He did a double take, wondering how in the world Jason could go back to sleep that fast. He tried to brush it off, but now Jack wasn’t going to take that and let it go. Jack entered the room and turned on the light, even that didn’t wake Jason from sleep. Jack then shook Jason to wake him up again. Jason was startled and looked around confused.

 

Jason: What? What’s up bro?

 

Jack: Did you hear what I just said?

 

Jason: Yeah. You were just talking to me. What’s the emergency?

 

Jack: We need to have a serious talk, bro. Me and you. 

 

Jason: Yo, come on man. It’s too early in the morning for this. Let me sleep and I’ll be good.

 

Jack: That’s all you’ve been doing since you got here, man. Sleeping. You can’t stay awake for more than like a couple of hours.

 

Jason again doesn’t respond right away, and Jack watches his eyes fall and his head droop as he appears to be passing out in mid-conversation. Jack has to violently shake him to startle him again.

 

Jason: Come on man... let me sleep.

 

Jack: Seriously, bro.... what the fuck?

 

Jason hand waves Jack away and tries to hide his head under his covers to stop Jack from probing anymore. Jack just shakes his head and figures he is also tired, and maybe it was later, but he wasn’t going to something that Jack was going to let die easily. He had to know what was going on.

 

Jack eventually relented and sighed, standing up and shutting off the light and closing Jason’s door. He continues down the hallway, headed to the kitchen table where he sits down and just stares at basically nothing for a long time. Inside he is clearly torn between being angry and sad for his brother, and not really knowing which direction to take.  He just pounds the table after a few moments, not even able to enjoy his world title victory. Brian eventually enters the kitchen from his room, almost blissfully unaware of everything going on in Jack’s head. 

 

Brian: How goes it, Stick? Win that fancy title back?

 

Jack says nothing as Brian removes whiskey from the cupboard and sits down with two shot glasses, pouring himself one and then a second. He finger-flicks it over to Jack who stops it and stares at Brian.

 

Brian: You look like you could use that. 

 

Brian turns up his shot glass, gulping it down and giving a satisfied “ahh” afterward.

 

Brian: What? Did you win the thing back or not?

 

Jack looks up at Brian and nods.

 

Jack: Yeah.

 

 Brian: Well hot damn, good on you, Stick. Shit man, let’s have another one.

 

Brian wastes no time pouring another shot as Jack reluctantly gulps his first one down and a second one is poured instantly afterward. Jack stars at it as Brian raises his glass.

 

Brian: To the champ!

 

Jack just gulps his drink down and sighs. He motions with his head into the hallway leading towards Jason’s room.

 

Jack: What’s he done?

 

Brian turns his head.

 

Brian: Jason? Nothing. He’s been in the room pretty much the whole time. Only comes out to grab himself a bite to eat and goes back. 

 

Jack: You think he may have... COVID?

 

Jason: Dunno. Ain’t Vets getting the vaccine right before the old folks and the rescue people?

 

Jack: Maybe. But there’s something wrong and we need to find out what.

 

Brian ponders this for a minute pouring himself another shot and gulping it down.

 

Brian: You may not want to know. 

 

Jack: I NEED to know Brian. He’s the only family I got. Outside of you, anyway. But he’s fucking blood and that shit means something. I hate seeing him like this. I feel like I fucked up and I don’t know how to fix it. I need to know that my brother is okay.

 

Brian: Stick, that boy may be going through some shit and you ain’t gonna help by prying. I ain’t one for letting people suffer in silence, but this has to be delicate. You poke him the wrong way and we’re gonna have a huge mess on our hands.

 

Jack: He’s my brother. I’m not gonna let him suffer.

 

Brian sighs and nods as he looks back at the hallway once again before he turns back to Jack.

 

Brian: I’ll do what I can.

 

Jack nods and takes the bottle, pouring himself another shot. He quickly gulps it down and looks at Brian.

 

Jack: Thank you.

--

Washington Estate

Las Vegas, NV

Two weeks ago.


 

The next morning, Jack work up around 11. He stood up, rolling out of bed as the adrenaline of the match the previous night had worn off, the groans from all the bumps and bruises he put his body through, even at 23, were noticiable as ever. He flexed his arm and rotated his arm to get the feeling and circulation going. He headed down for breakfast, even at 11, and made himself some eggs and toast. He sat and ate it, waiting for Jason to appear. Brian was already up and watching television in the living room as Jack ate. 

 

Jack: Hey.

 

Brian looked back over at Jack at the table.

 

Jack: Is he awake?

 

Brian shrugged.

 

Brian: Haven’t seen or heard from him.

 

Jack sighed as he finished his food and headed into the hallway, headed towards Jason’s room. He stops at the door, contemplates knocking for a split-second and then opens it. Jason is still laying with his head under the cover as Jack shakes him to wake him up yet again. Jason is again startled as he once again looks confused and disoriented.

 

Jason: Sup, bro?

 

Jack: Wake up, it’s 11:30. 

 

Jason: Oh. Dude, I’m tired.

 

Jason goes to put the covers over his head again, but this time, Jack stops him and pulls the covers back and off of Jason.

 

Jack: Get up. You’ve been in this bed since you got here. I told you we needed to talk.

 

Jason: Come on man, don’t be like that. I’m fine.

 

Jack: GET. UP.

 

Jack has to forcefully pull Jason up and out of bed, and Jason falls to the ground. Jack looks down and see’s Jason’s pale skin and his lack of muscle mass. Jack finally picks Jason up off the ground, looking into his eyes and shaking his head.

 

Jack: Let’s go.

 

Jason: Ease up, bro!

 

Jack more or less forces Jason to go to the kitchen, where Jack makes Jason take a seat and sits down across from him.

 

Jack: Now, we need to talk about what you’re doing Jason.

 

Jason: I ain’t doing nothing, man.

 

Jack: Yeah, that’s kinda the fucking problem. You’ve been sitting in your room and sleeping this entire time. You have only eaten a few times and barely even bathed. So, as a man, as my brother, you need to tell me what the fuck is going on.

 

Jason shrugs at Jack, but his eyes dart around the room, as if he is too embarrassed to say.

 

Jack: Don’t. Don’t Jason, come on bro, you need to tell me, I can help you.

 

Jason: I’m good, bro. I’m good.

 

Jack slams his fists on the table, almost shaking in anger.

 

Jack: DON’T GIVE ME THAT SHIT! SOMETHING IS WRONG AND I WANNA KNOW IT IS!

 

Jason is taken aback and finally, Brian comes in and sits down across from both of them, cup of coffee in his hand.

 

Brian: Let’s just take it easy before things get outta hand. Now, Solider, you know you owe it to your little brother here to be a man about your problems. You know I ain’t your father, but god damn I told him I’d look after you boys like you were my own. And quite frankly I feel like I ain’t doing that right now with you looking like a wet cat and smelling like one too. So, I think you owe it to your family to tell us about it.

 

Jason looks around nervously and lowers his head, sad and stumbles to get his words out.

 

Jason: I... I got hooked, man.

 

Jack clenches his fists in anger, but tries to remain calm.

 

Jason: You don’t understand man, I saw the shit. I saw the goddamn devil out there, bro. People dying all over the place. Walking around, surrounded when there ain’t even anybody there for fuck’s sake! The fucking people looking at me, and I have to wonder if I have to fucking shoot every single one of them to make sure I got to come home.

 

Jason straightens up, tears welling up in his eyes.

 

Jason: Those people over there, hated me. And I gave them every reason to hate me. I beat them, I sometimes kill them, I destroy their houses, I destroy their crops, I destroy their fields, I destroy their culture. Why in the hell should those people like me? And every single day, I realized that every single one of them was the enemy. After a while, I stopped thinking. My only goal was to stay alive. And I have to live with that shit. I wanted to make it go away.

 

Jason starts to cry, Jack puts his arm on his brother’s shoulder.

 

Jason: I wanted to make it go away and I took what I thought could help me make everything go away. In my sleep, I don’t see all those bad things anymore. If I’m high, If I’m feeling good, I’m good. Why can’t I feel good all the time, bro? Is that a crime? Is it wrong?! 

 

Jack: Bro, you gotta get off that shit. Whatever it is.

 

Jason: I can’t man. It’s got me and I need it. I’ve been trying to fight it but god damn it I feel like shit and I don’t want to go back to those memories ever again! Fuck that. I can’t! You gotta help me!

 

Jason reaches out and grabs Jack by his shirt. Jack looks into Jason’s eyes and sees his pleading and sincerity. Jack pulls his brother in for a hug.

 

Jason: You got the connections right... you can get me some.

 

Jack: I can’t do that.

 

Jason: Come on... be a brother.

 

Brian: We’re going to get you some help. Some of the best help.

 

--

North Las Vegas VA Medical Center

Las Vegas, NV


 

Jack had driven his brother up to the medical center and left his brother in the VA’s care. Since Jason was a vet, he was admitted and was now going through not only treatment for his PTSD, but also his now apparent drug habit. It had been a week and Jack was coming to visit again. He pulled up and got out, entering the rehab center and checking in.

 

Jack: I’m here to see Jason Washington.

 

Receptionist: I see. Let me check.

 

He watches as she types away at her computer. She stares back at him after a moment.

 

Receptionist: What is your relation to the patient?

 

Jack: He’s my brother.

 

There is a pause as the Receptionist waits and then summons one of the orderlies to bring him to Jason’s room. He checks in the room through the eye port and then slowly opens the door, allowing Jack to come in and Jason already looks 100 times better in Jack’s eyes. The two share a hug and for the first time in a long time, Jason appears to be happier.

 

Jack: How are you?

 

Jason: I’m... I’m good man. I feel a lot better. 

 

Jack: You look a lot better too. 

 

Jason: Well, I can’t get whacked out anymore. And really, I don’t even want to. I mean... it’s still there, but I... I don’t feel like it’s there all the time. Slowly I’m getting away from it. 

 

Jack: That’s good man. That’s real good.

 

Jason: And I got people who I can talk to about that other stuff now, and it doesn’t hurt as much. It still is a pain that I don’t think I’ll ever shake, but I know I’m not alone, and... and you can’t know how much that helps with shit like this.

 

Jack: I know you’ve felt alone because you got away from everything. I know that and shit I don’t blame you at this point. I don’t think anyone does. 

 

Jason: Did... did dad ever say anything about me? He never wrote to me, or answered my calls or anything.

 

Jack: Dad.... dad...

 

Jack rubs his face and sighs, putting a hand on Jason’s shoulder.

 

Jack: Dad was proud of you. He may not have ever said it, but he respected that you got yourself out of that place and you did something for yourself. Maybe he just liked me more because I didn’t shy away from it. But I always knew he was proud of you.

 

Jason: Yeah... maybe...

 

Jack: Look, I’m proud of you now, for doing this and accepting the help. I know we always kinda did things on our own but you know...

 

Jason: Yeah, I’m sorry I wigged out back there and I tried to hide it. I just... you know, you’re my brother. My kid brother, and I always looked out for you and I didn’t... I didn’t want to let you down.

 

Jack: Thanks, bro.

 

Jack sits down in the one chair in the room as Jason sits himself on the bed. 

 

Jason: I guess this is.... catching up, isn’t it?

 

Jack: Yeah, it’s been a long time, bro. It’s been a long, long time.

 

Jason: I know, I guess it’s why I came to you in the first place. I mean, one to get help, but the other was to see my kid brother and how he made himself into a big-time wrestler.

 

Jack: Something like that, I guess. So, let me ask this then, since you came to me for help and you didn’t want to disappoint... That wife story, the divorce story.

 

Jason sighs.

 

Jason: Actually, that’s all true. I did get divorced, but it was months ago. She couldn’t handle me being a mess and addicted to the shit. Drinking and pills and all the PTSD. She couldn’t be around me long enough to stomach it. We... we agreed to just get away from each other. I was still trying to be bigger than my problem, you know? She’d.... she’d tell me to get help and offered to try and get me help and I wasn’t hearing it. I didn’t think I had a problem, you know?

 

Jack: I saw that first hand.

 

Jason: It just... it got to me, and I wasn’t worried about this or back home and I lost sight of things. And then you’re here and you’re the fucking champ, bro. You were the champ and I saw your face on the posters and all that, and I... I was proud. You done good, John.

 

Jack takes a moment to let the compliment sink in. It meant quite a bit coming from his older brother. The person he wanted to be like the most was giving him a stamp of approval.

 

Jack: Thanks. I really mean that. 

 

Jason: I started watching on TV and what I remembered and when I wasn’t fucked up, I saw my bro on TV making himself a star. I couldn’t believe it at first and then bam, there you were in the flesh man, the champ and doing big things.

 

Jack: I’ve done some stuff, but not nearly what I wanted.

 

Jason: I mean, that’s what Philly does though, bro.

 

Jack: Yeah... Philly’s a memory now, man. A long, distant memory.

 

Jason: What do you mean?

 

Jack: After dad died, I inherited the beefs. So, I ain’t been back home in 5 years. They’re waiting for me to come back. I was part of that life with Dad, so they hold me just as responsible for all the shit that went down just as much as him.

 

Jason: Shit...

 

Jack: I’ve got to stay away from that and do my own thing. That’s why I’m doing this. I did this wrestling thing and I bought and opened the Casino for me, and to get my shit in order and to let them know, I didn’t need dad, and I’m not him. 

 

Jason takes a moment after he gets filled in and hugs Jack tightly.

 

Jason: I’m sorry little brother.

 

Jack: Don’t be. I’m outta that and I got my own shit to take care of now. I just wanted to be sure you’re doing okay. 

 

Jason: I promise you, I’m fine.

 

Jack: Alright, look, I’m gonna head out, tend to some business and then hit the gym, gotta big match coming up.

 

Jason: Alright, man, you go kick some ass.

 

The two brothers embrace again and Jack soon departs. He exits and heads off to handle his casino business. And for the first time since his brother arrived, Jack actually felt like himself again.

 

 

--

Harrah’s Hotel & Casino
Las Vegas, NV

 

Jack now had to make amends with Sonny, and he marched up into his office, and was actually let in. Sonny was less than thrilled with Jack’s appearance in his casino. He came out of his office wearing a smoking jacket and puffing on a cigar, moving around briskly and eyeing Jack with an annoyed look.

 

Sonny: Well, if it ain’t the Boss.

 

Jack: Sonny, I just want to apologize.

 

Sonny: Well shit, boss, what are you apologizing to me for? You’re out here making decision for everybody aren’t you?

 

Jack: My head wasn’t right.

 

Sonny: Your head ain’t been right since you came into MY city and got into MY business, kid. Now you wanna throw weight around you ain’t got. 

 

Jack: It wasn’t like that. I had some other stuff going on and it was on my mind. Alright. I damn near almost had the Mexicans fucking off me at the same time because my heart was doing the talking and not my head. I wasn’t with it and I just want to say I’m sorry. Okay?

 

Sonny: You know, normally, somebody like you, some punk, piece of shit kid, like you, talk to me that way? Maybe I cut off a finger. Maybe a fucking ball if they act stupid like that. But you... I don’t know about you yet, kid. You wanna make deals, you take ’em on and off of the table. You got a gift of gab maybe. But I don’t know.

 

Jack held his hands up, trying to continue to ease the situation.

 

Jack: I was out of line. I admit that. I do. I wasn’t thinking straight and it was just some family drama, and now that’s taken care of and I’m back to being the person who can get you what you want, instead of taking the offer off the table. It’s there. Because I got my family situation with something similar. And it has only made me realize that this deal is fucked, and these Mexicans are probably going to try and kill me in the long run. 

 

Sonny: You wanna make the deal now?

 

Jack: I put the deal up to you, and it’s still there. I can get you the locations of where these people are gonna move and when. You mess up a few, you help a lot more than me out in the situation.

 

Sonny: And you don’t think they will figure out that it’s you?

 

Jack: Not right away, give it enough time, they will. But they will be so concerned with you, and the amount of attention that will be drawn on it, leaves me to break the deal off and then boom, they walk away from me, because it’s too hot. My deal’s done, you get a little payback, we set them back, they don’t know any better. 

 

Sonny chuckles as he nods in approval.

 

Sonny: You got it all figured out, don’t you kid? 

 

Jack: It’s win-win, Sonny. And after all the grief they have caused you, I figure you’d want in on this.

 

Sonny flicked the ashes from his cigar and studied Jack for a moment, and then nodded and stuck out his hand.

 

Sonny: You got a deal.

 

Jack: Excellent.

 

The two shake hands as Jack nods in approval himself.

 

Sonny: Don’t you dare try and fuck me on this, kid. Otherwise, I will have your balls cut off, and I’ll make you wear ‘em as earrings.

 

Jack: No, Sonny, you won’t regret this. I promise you.

 

Jack and Sonny shook hands once more before Jack left. Now, it was time to put Jack’s ultimate plan into action. He pulled out his phone and dialed.

 

Jack: Ms. Ana-Sofia, it’s Jack. We’re ready to host you.

 

--

ON CAMERA:

Click. 

Jack stood pacing with the SCW world championship on his shoulder, and his usual scowl now replacing the manic look, it’s a step up, but no less concerning to his opponents.

 

Jack: Yes, I got this championship back. I shouldn’t have lost it in the first place, but that’s old news. Yes, I dismantled Kris Ryans, and yes, I ran him out of town for the time being. I finally slayed that dragon and now I am the world champion once again. Now, I’m not concerned about that part of my past.  The last little piece of old business that I need to take care of is O’Malley. 

 

Though I do see now that Austin James Mercer just loves to keep my name and my business in his mouth. I’ve already beat his ass twice and here he is talking about who’s talented and who’s this and who’s that like anybody should give a shit what the would-be tough guy who all of a sudden is the baddest mother fucker on the planet says. Where was this six months ago? Sit the fuck down you clown. 

 

Actually, you know what? Continue to run your mouth, but O’Malley proves each and every day that he’s an idiot by taking the bait like he’s a fucking fish. And not only that, looks like a complete idiot because he doesn’t even make sense. If you’re bad at talking shit, don’t talk shit, it’s pretty fucking straightforward, and yet, O’Malley fucking fails every single time he tries it. Especially if someone like Austin James Mercer can out-talk you. Good god. A trained monkey could do this shit better than Austin James Mercer. If you can’t keep up with looks-like-Tarzan-but-fights-like-Jane Austin Mercer, I really don’t know what hope there is for you O’Malley. You’re sad and pathetic and I almost want to feel sorry for you, but I don’t do “feeling sorry” for anybody.

 

O’Malley, it’s pretty sad when someone constantly runs their mouth and has zero to show for it. You have nothing outside of cashing in a briefcase and beating a paper champion to win two titles in one night. THAT is your biggest accomplishment. At one point, you had not one, but TWO titles you didn’t deserve. And you for some reason believe that this makes you worthy of anything. Like, hey, do you remember that Kerry Wood once had 30 strikeouts in a game? You know else he did? NOTHING. Are you really going to be that guy and come at me like you deserve anything? The only reason, the ONLY reason you are even getting this championship match right now, is because you walked out a few months ago, and ran your mouth, accepting my challenge. I could have said pretty much anything out there that night, but once I said whoever has the balls to come down, here you come marching down like you’ve done something other than what I just mentioned. All you have done your entire run here, is fail.

 

You fail over and over and over and you yet puff your chest out like you’re some kind of great champion. You, much like Alex Jones, much like Austin James Mercer, you’re just so... fake. You’re so hollow and see-thru that it’s a wonder how anybody can stand you. You’re another would-be tough guy. It must be all the Connor McGregor whiskey or something because you’ve got a lot of liquid courage running through your veins to think you have a chance in HELL of beating me this Sunday. I would admire this kind of confidence, but I can’t even call it confidence, it’s delusion.
 

 

Jack takes the championship off his shoulder and looks at it for a moment, before laying it on the table, place facing upright in full view of the camera. He sits down at the table, now the title on full display.

 

Jack: The best you can do at this point in your life, O’Malley is to be a pest. A fly buzzing around someone’s head. That’s what you do. You come out and run your mouth, and then you proceed to make an ass out of yourself because you only know how to do the first part well. You can talk a big game, and you have yet to back up ANYTHING that would make me or anyone believe a word you say. You are a walking fish story. I bet when you were eating your corned beef and cabbage on St. Patrick’s Day you and your whole family were just sitting around bullshitting each other about how tough you all are and how you beat up this guy and that guy. I’m sure it was a whole thing and you all riverdanced the night away.

 

But let me explain this to you, you can have 10 4-leaf clovers up your ass and it’s not going to mean a god damn thing on Sunday. You are going to be beaten and disposed of just like everyone else that has stepped into my path. I have been able to right every wrong, save for one, against Ben Jordan, but you don’t see him chomping at the bit to have a match with me, do you? No, he’s not. Because he said it himself that I was the future, and I have made my future, the present of Sin City Wrestling. And if you, O’Malley, believe that you have a snowball’s chance in hell of beating me, you are dumber than you look.

 

Understand, O’Malley, I’ve already beaten you, multiple times. I’ve already handed you your ass time and time again, and it wasn’t even FOR this championship. I beat you on my road to the top. And now, you think that after just getting this championship back, and putting it where it belongs, that you, of all people, are going to waltz in and just beat me for it? Do you not understand how hard I worked for this shit? Do you not get it when I have told every single person that keeping this is the only thing that matters to me, and that I will do ANYTHING to keep it? There is no line I won’t cross, I have NO boundaries when it comes to this. If you can’t keep up in a verbal sparring session with a piece of dry toast in Austin James Mercer, then you are CLEARLY not ready to step into this arena with me. But it is kind of hilarious to see you make threats and talk all this trash with your chest puffed out, and then as soon as I responded, you stopped. You’re a real bad ass when no one’s around, aren’t you O’Malley? You are an embarrassing buffoon who has is punching well above his weight class because you are on some sort of stupid redemption arc, aren’t you? You believe in your head that winning this championship just makes your past go away, don’t you?


 

Jack leans forward and shakes his head. He is clearly ready to lay everything out.

 

Jack: I’m going to lay another harsh truth at your feet O’Malley. I may be an asshole, but I’m an honest asshole. I tell you like it is, and it’s not ever going to be my fault if you can’t handle it. The truth of the matter is, is that you are not ready to be the SCW World champion. You’re not ready to handle this level of pressure. You have too many skeletons in your closet. You’ve done too many stupid, boneheaded things on live TV no less, that should really be a disqualifying factor for a lot of other things around here too. You’re a shit husband, a shit father, a shit wrestler, and well... a shit person. You are stuck in this weird phase or something where you really, really want to do right, but you also really wanna be a tough guy and a bad ass. You’re walking around here without telling people your first name like it’s some cool secret or something. And it’s really not, my dude. 

 

Look, if you’re first name is Sheamus and your middle name is McIreland or whatever, it is what it is. You gotta fucking own it. This “O’Malley” bullshit is just that, and deep down in your heart, you know that. You must recognize that this entire shtick is silly and from the mind of a 13-year-old kid who thinks being mysterious is a substitute for having anything of value. And you, my guy, you bring ZERO to the table. You have just being Irish to your credit O’Malley. That’s it. That’s all anyone will ever really know about you, aside from moving on from your dead wife in record time and not even thinking about it for a split second when you went and got yourself remarried. That’s about it. Aside from that, you are just a dude who had all the potential in the world and thus far you have squandered it in a matter of months. If this was a different sport like football or something, you’d have been cut by now. You would be a free agent looking to catch on, on someone’s special teams. And you think that based on your past failures that all of a sudden, you’re about to just tap into your potential and unlock it and take my spot? You don’t get it, O’Malley, I am the face of this franchise. I AM the star quarterback and the reason I’m in this spot is because people like you fucked it up. You kept pussy footing around and I ran right through, straight to the top and claimed it for myself. I did that, and you? You’re sitting here bitching about it.

 

 

You want to sit here and act like you’ve been overlooked or your undervalued or underrated. The truth is, you’re overrated, O’Malley. No one is denying you have actual talent, but you, you have been nothing short of a disappointment because of that very talent. I heard someone say that you were “haunted” by your potential. That’s you to a T. What have been great expectation have been met with nothing but unacceptable fucking results. You have almost nothing to show for all the whining and complaining you do. You sound like a god damn woman with the amount that you piss and moan about title shots and everything under the sun. You might as well just start trying to win the Bombshell’s title or something, but I doubt you’d get that done either. The fact of the matter is nobody likes a whiner, nobody likes a complainer. And when that is your best attribute, it says something. I’m tired of hearing you whine and complain. You, like Alex Jones, and Austin Mercer before you, are going to have no choice, but to sit down, shut up, and show me the respect I deserve. So now, what I’m going to do very simply, son, it’s show you exactly how overrated you are. This Sunday, will be the day that you finally realize that you are completely out of your league and you have NO BUSINESS coming after this championship again, so long as I have it, Which, unfortunately for you, is going to be a long, long time.

 

Jack rubs his hands together, shaking his head almost in disbelief.
 

Jack: But, here’s a good thing for you. After I beat your ass, yet again, and I leave you laying in the middle of the ring, then, you can finally start over and get your life and everything else back in order. You will not have to worry about the duties and responsibilities it takes to be a champion at my level. You will no longer have to deal with thinking about making a speech as the champion, or lining up those personal appearances or anything close to that. No, you can concentrate on being a family man and trying not to fuck that up any more than you already have. You get to focus on finally stop trying to fill shoes that you never could. So, you know, you should be thanking me right now. I’m going to look past all the bullshit you’ve spewed, all the petty threats that you know you can’t back up and everything else you’ve been trying to present to everyone as if you were ever in the running. You think that because you got some fluke pin on Kris Ryans that it means a damn thing? I did it when it mattered the most and that’s why I’m where I am, and you are where you are. 

 

The fact is, you were the third wheel this entire time. You were the one that didn’t belong. I was the champion, and Kris had earned a title shot. You ran out when I said title shot. You ran out with your hand out like you just expected this. I told you then to earn it. And you failed at that. Every single time. This, will just be another failure you can add to collection. SCW is better off now with me as the face of this franchise and you sitting on the bench, to be called upon for random tasks. That’s your role. There’s a reason they don’t let kickers throw passes, they don’t let outfielders pitch, and they don’t let goalies play striker. You are going to be put where you are of the best use. And that, is watching me lead this company to greatness. 

 

You had your chance O’Malley, and you fucking blew it. SCW has given you every single opportunity you can think of, and you haven’t produced. And now, NOW, you’re going to just come through? I don’t fucking think so, brother. You’ve been a hell of a salesmen on your own ability, but let’s face it, no one is buying. Nobody believes in you. I bet if you looked your wife in the eyes right now, she’d tell you NOT to get in the ring with me. She’d tell you to think twice about this, because it’s a fucking mistake. Nobody is buying into O’Malley as SCW World champion. Not a fucking soul and it’s not like you haven’t tried. It’s not like you haven’t lobbied. It’s not like you haven’t pissed and moaned and whined and complained and bitched enough to make your voice heard. But the fact remains that no matter what you sell, if the result is shit, the product isn’t worth it. Despite all your hot air, nobody is buying what you’re selling. So, while you may be going 90 miles an hour with all this bullshit you’re spewing.... I’m about to make you pump your fucking breaks.

 

Because you ain’t that bad, mother fucker.


 

Jack finally stands up and pulls the camera’s attention away from both he AND the championship, focusing it on just himself.

 

Jack: You are about to encounter the dude who’s a little tougher, a little meaner, a little rougher, a little stronger, a lot smarter and a hell of a lot hungrier. See, if you had wanted it as bad as your bark, you’d of bit a long time ago. You would have actually done something worth your salt in the past what 4... 5... years? But you don’t want it that bad. Because you’ve never been as hungry as me. You’ve never been in my position and you never will. You don’t know what it’s like to be fighting for your life, or worrying about who might stab you in the back next. You don’t know what it means to truly have your back against the wall. You have been having this fake bullshit drama that you want to pass off as hardship. I mean, I just got done talking about your sales skills, so obviously, it leaves a lot to be desired. 

 

Sunday, I’m going to beat you down, and break you. And leave you with the full understanding of where you stand. You do not deserve to be in this ring with me, and I will make it painfully clear to you. I don’t need to remind you that I am capable of anything. You should know that by now. I won’t hesitate to kick you in your baby nuts, you know that. I’ve said it many times. So don’t cry and bitch about me cheating, that’s what I do. Don’t piss and moan about me taking shortcuts, you know I will. And don’t belly ache about losing, because you know you’re going to.

 

This is MY time, you pathetic, piece of trash. Get used to it.


 

Jack then picks up the championship and tosses it back over his shoulder before departing.

Click.


EVERYONE. SUFFERS.