[Christian Underwood]

Post your roleplays here by deadline. Good luck and have fun!

[Mac]

SCW World Title Match - Washington, Knox, and Davison


{unnamed location - somewhere in Nevada - “Reliving The Past - The final Chapter}

The smell of fuel and the whirring of the blades of the helicopter would ordinarily overwhelm your senses. Not at this moment though, as Vivian continued to tell her tale into the headset. Jeff to his credit did not interrupt her, but let her finish telling me and the others what had happened.

[As told from Vivian’s perspective]

“So, the captain, here, had them all rounded up. I would have to testify against these men and at the general court-martial.”

The scene shifts to another place and time….

Jeff Castello had been placed in charge of the base on a temporary basis, “Acting Officer in Charge” was the nameplate on the door to his office read. I waited there outside of his office, the door was open, but I didn’t enter, I knocked politely and waited. He looked up from the paperwork he was working on and motioned me in. I snapped a sharp solute, which he returned promptly. “Shut the door please,” he said to me, his voice practically dead, almost without emotion. I complied quickly, then came back to standing in front of his desk at parade rest. “At ease, Petty Officer, and please take a seat.” I did as he asked me to, I was terrified of this process and what it might mean for me. Cases like this go one of two ways, either they go to jail after receiving a dishonorable discharge or they are simply shipped out to parts unknown. I wasn’t sure which it would be this time. I was hoping the Captain would be able to tell me. He stared down at the paperwork one last time, exhaled a heavy sigh, and finally pushed the paperwork away for a moment.

“Castle, I commend you for your bravery in light of everything you faced here before I could arrive. I’m sure you know the process of how this will go,” he stated in that same flat tone he had used earlier. I nodded my head slightly, “Yes sir, in the past, I know that there have been cases like this. Dishonorable discharge with or without jail time in a military prison.” He closed his eyes and leaned back thoughtfully for a moment. I wasn’t sure if he was actually in deep thought or just so exhausted that he might fall asleep. He opened his eyes, they were rimmed red from a lack of sleep and he smiled. “Typically yes,” he started and then laid a thumb drive down on the desk. Then he produced a photo of the blonde girl that I had encountered the first day. “Recognize her?” I nodded dumbly, “Yes, but what,” I stammered. He held up his hands in mock surrender, “She was an accomplice to these three men. When we caught her, she was trying to place this in your belongings. Know what this is?”  I knew what a thumb drive was but not what this one contained. I shook my head, “I know it’s a thumb drive but that’s all I know.” He smiled again, “I thought as much, they’ve been selling secrets to the Taliban for months. She was going to plant this in your belongings to try to implicate you in their scheme.”

I was completely floored, to say the least. I had actually trusted and depended on her for information, not realizing that I was playing into their game. He must have read my face well, as he slid a whiskey tumbler across the surface of his desk. He then produced a bottle of bourbon and handed that to me. “Drink slowly,” he began to say but it was too late, I slammed the shot of whiskey and poured myself some more. “Unfucking believable!” The words were out of my mouth before I knew it, and I clamped my hand over my mouth in response. “My apologies sir,” I began to apologize but he waived it off. “No need Castle, my response would have been the same. She told us how she was able to gain your trust and confidence, she’s a manipulator and it would have worked had it not been for one of the new soldiers I brought with me.” I looked at him, still overwhelmed by this information, “Who do I owe a case of bourbon to,” I asked almost too quietly. “He is my new assistant officer in charge, Frank Spatharos.”

“He’s a very sharp young man, graduated from the academy, top of his class.” I nodded in acceptance, “There was a third man in that group,” I began to say. He nodded, “Caught him this morning, he was trying to board a military hop out of the country.” I smiled, “good, I hope that’s all of them,” I said in a flat tone of my own. How could this be happening to me? Why? Do I have bad Karma? WTF?!, I thought to myself. Before I could continue down the thought process of my very own internal pity party, that process was interrupted by Captain Castello’s voice. It was like he could read my mind. “You did everything by the book, Castle, I’m proud to have you in my command. You’re a damn good sailor, don’t let this thing fuck with you too much.” It was though, it was fucking with me hard and he knew it too. I could see the sympathy in his eyes. You don’t hear about the number of enlisted people who are betrayed by their peers very often but that’s what this was. The woman had tried to set me up to go to prison for the rest of my life.

returning back to Mac’s perspective

We were landing in moments, Vivian had told the rest of the story up to the point that I joined the command. Things were chaotic when I joined the command. There was a power vacuum that I would later find out about from Jeff himself. It was silent over the radio for a moment as we began  our descent to a secluded airfield. Over the radio I could hear Jeff clear his throat, then he said, “Viv, are you going to tell them the rest?”. I looked over at her and she nodded, “Yeah, they need to hear all of it,” she said in a voice that was barely above a whisper. “The next piece of the puzzle would come barely a month later.” Grey held her hand and she squeezed it tightly and then relaxed letting him know that she was okay. “We were on the move, and we were moving into an active zone. We knew we would get into areas where we weren’t welcome. As we rounded a bend in the path, the driver, who had just joined us, looked over at me and said, “Gomez sends his regards.” He then veered sharply to the right side of the road.” She paused there and a single tear raced down her face. “That was the day that everything went dark. He had run over a roadside bomb that only he knew was there. Once again, I had been betrayed. It was Mac that pulled me out of that vehicle that day. We had already been friends, he was the only one that could hang with me when it came to booze.” She chuckled after that, it was a solemn memory for me. It was the day that my friendship with Vivian really began in earnest. A lot of times we befriend people because of association or from being on the same team. It would forever change both of us.

“In the confusion, the driver had managed to slip away,” she began. “The iron mask,” I said out loud. “Exactly Mac,” Jeff said from the co-pilot's seat. The helicopter set down just then in a less than graceful way. Jeff gave a sharp look at the pilot, who shrugged in the way of an apology. We exited the helicopter as quickly as we could. Jeff, “Although it’s not an iron mask, carbon fiber from what I've been told. “ he shrugged, “Regardless of that, he’s been caught, Vivian.” A sharp intake of breath from her revealed her surprise at that statement.” “When did you guys catch him,” she asked. Jeff, “late last night, we suspect that was the reason they tried to get you today.” She nodded in acceptance, “And the others?” He held up a finger as his phone rang. “This is Castello,” he said as he answered. We couldn’t hear the person on the line, only his responses. “Outstanding, Peters, that was exactly what I needed to hear. He disconnected the call and looked over at Vivian, “got ‘em.”

“Speaking Of Betrayal”

My thoughts race as I think about the task ahead, an enemy, a brother, and an asshole. I had to fight them all. One of them though was weighing heavily on my mind. He didn’t have to be my enemy but here he was, trying to reclaim the world title. A title he never deserved. That was the thing about Matt, he coveted things that belonged to other people, and he always strove to take everything away from them. My wife, my title, and everything I held dear. Hell, even his kids were defending him these days, telling anyone who would listen that he had Stockholm syndrome. I knew what that disease could do, if that was the case, he’d be up her ass and wouldn’t leave her side no matter what. I wasn’t buying that for a minute. I’d known him too long and watched him undermine and destroy the relationships of others. It was time for him to go, in a body bag if necessary. I’d grown weary of his presence, lies, and all-around bullshit.

Well, well, well what do we have here?

I smirk at the camera as I tie my hair back, I already know how to approach this and I enjoy this part of my job so much it bothers me sometimes.

The songbird has returned to his gilded cage like a good, domesticated animal will do, when its owner calls it. She whistles and points and you do her bidding without considering the consequences.

Sneering at the camera, I spit on the floor.

Even though you had been given everything you needed to be free of her influence.

I shake my head in disgust as I think about all the things he could have done, hell should have done.

You and I had a death match for the World Title not so long ago. We shed enough blood to float a battleship around, but something happened before that match took place didn’t it?

I nodded my head, smiling like Jack Nicholson as I continued.

That’s right,  you realized that you couldn’t beat me again, so you allowed a little retirement news to leak out.

I shake my head in exasperation, it’s who Knox is, things get too tight and he runs like a scared child.

I mean, you are a better Finn Whelan than he is. Trying your best to undermine what we both knew was coming. Whelan did the same thing to Ken, but with about as much class.

I want to flip him off and tell him to go fuck himself but I resist that urge and continue forward with my promo.

I guess your heart just wasn’t in it. That one still makes me shake my head, why would any company allow that piece of trash to remain employed here? All he does is shit on your product and your title. Which is essentially what Knox also did all those months earlier. I am so done candy-coating this shit for fake friends.[/color]

To say I had no love lost for Knox was an understatement, seriously if he was on fire in the middle of the street, I wouldn’t stop and piss on him to put him out.

So, you announced your retirement, leaving the companies that you were working at in a lurch. One of their biggest draws, just disappears into the night, leaving them with nothing to do but damage control with the fans and your opponents that you had agreed to fight.

It was sad that he had resorted to this kind of behavior rather than take the ass whippin’ he was owed.

You didn’t finish strong, as a matter of fact, you didn’t finish at all. I find that amusing as fuck, to be honest, considering the number of kids you have.

I smile a sick smile at the camera.

So, now all of a sudden you’re back again, and the question of why doesn’t even matter. It’s a given, you’re here to help Masque or to start some redemption crusade that no one will give a shit about.

Internally I’m frustrated, after helping this titanic douche I had wanted us to be able to be friends. The bullshit he pulled when he left was just that.

Hiding in an alley or some shit, doing HER bidding. Back to try and hurt my family once again. This will end, as it did previously, Matt. I’ll be standing over you while you sit in a pool of your own blood. This time though, there won’t be any mercy. No retreat, no surrender, no survivors.

I smirk at the camera.

no one really loves you, darlin’.


{VFW Post - Las Vegas NV - “The Conversation Part 4 - Final Chapter”}

The smell of bar food combined with grease filled the air as I walked in the door. The waitress, who was in the army, smiled at me as she slid the fried mushrooms and chicken sandwich in front of me. “Thanks, Doris,” I said enthusiastically as I dropped a twenty in her tip jar. She smiled even bigger, “If you ever get rid of that redhead of yours, I’d be glad to take over payments,” she quipped at me. I winked at her, “I’ll let her know.” She frowned at that and I laughed, mentioning Amber’s name in certain circles always elicited that response. She was known to have a bit of a temper, and would literally cut any woman who tried to get too close to me. I took my plate and sat down in the back corner of the room. Taking my butterknife I poked a hole in the top of the fried mushrooms, one by one, allowing the steam to escape and start the cooling process. I was currently under surveillance by at least three people. I knew they were waiting for Spatharos to arrive. They were hired guns that got a temporary GS rating for taking this contract. The job was for them to make sure that no harm came to Frank and if needed, to kill me.

So, I began to eat my sandwich and mushrooms which were now cooled off enough to consume without burning the shit out of my mouth and tongue. I hoped I had been subtle enough in getting Jeff into the VFW post that he wouldn’t be noticed. I could hear him softly curse under his breath as he played shuffleboard with one of the locals. You could always tell when Jeff was losing by the amount of swearing he would let loose. Jeff had 3 people in the parking lot and two more at the bar. Their job was to make sure neither of us got killed today. Frank must have been sitting in the parking lot for a while because of the amount of chatter I was hearing through the earbud that kept me in contact with Jeff’s team. The boys were laughing a bit at Frank’s paranoia as he scanned the parking lot for the fourth time. I had finished my meal and looked at my watch, he was currently fifteen minutes late for our meeting. I dabbed up the last of the tabasco with the breading from the mushrooms just as he opened the door and stepped into the bar. I watched him get a beer and turn, now approaching me with a smile on his face and a hand on his right hip, near the holster for his pistol. Once he made it to the spot where I sat, he opened his coat to try and convince me he was not armed. It was, however, a lie, I knew there was no way he’d come into this bar not having a firearm of some sort on him.

I smiled as he extended his hand, I did not react to it, “Have a seat, Frank.” He shrugged as he withdrew his offered handshake. “Sure,” he stated simply and sat down across from me. I studied him for a moment before I began. In the awkward silence, I saw his men start to move closer. “Call them off, Frank.” I said in a flat and emotionless voice. He held his hand up in plain sight, and they moved back to their previous positions. “Frank, I don’t know what you thought you were going to pull here tonight.” He shrugged, “A simple test really, had to make sure that you hadn’t lost your situational awareness.” Frank reminded me a great deal of Gabriel Bahl at that moment. Just not as smart as Gabriel. “Frank, you’ve been trying to rattle my cage since you got into town. Why? Because I know where the bodies are buried? Because you feel like you owe me some kind of payback?” He licked his lips nervously but didn’t move, he simply said, “Yes.” I shook my head in disgust, “I’ve noticed that people hold onto grudges for a lifetime, it’s not healthy, you know?” I exhaled slowly, as I calculated what it might take to get out of this unscathed. “Even after I swore to you that I would remain silent and just continue doing what I’ve been doing for the last twenty years.” It was simply unfathomable to me that he would keep pursuing me over ancient history. “I don’t believe you,” was his next statement. “Look Frank, I could have done something about this when I first got discharged. I never did though, I could have given Castello all the dirt on you that he needed to shut you down. But I didn’t, do you understand that? Any of it?”

He nodded, “I do, and I’m grateful for that, but I can’t leave any loose ends around. You’re the last one on the list.” In a flash, he had his gun out, and just as quickly, Jeff put him on the floor with it shoved behind his back. Jeff, “It looks like that appointment may be delayed there slick. I always knew you were corrupt, Frank but I didn’t think you were stupid as well.” Frank said nothing in response and released the grip on the pistol as Jeff and his guys swept the room. It ended peacefully and without shots fired or any injuries. I leaned back in my chair, allowing my heart to return to its normal place, instead of being up in my throat. “Even if I tried, I couldn’t feel sorry for him. The people he’s killed, the lives he’s destroyed. God damn, son, I hope they put you under the jail.”


“Moving from one asshole to another”

I shifted gears. I had been speaking of Knox previously but now it was time to talk about a guy who had been my kryptonite in Sin City. There were few people that I disliked more than Jack Washington. I was glad he was in this match, I knew if I were to win this thing, Jack would be my target. If I won, it had to be him that I pinned, it wasn’t just about the pin itself, but the symbolism was important. I wonder if he had considered this and what it might mean.

I’ve encountered a lot in my career, but Jack Washington is an anomaly. I’ve heard it said that everyone has that one guy or girl that they just can’t defeat. It could be you for me, Jack. The jury is still out on that one.

I take the tie from my hair and allow my hair to fall across my shoulders.

This is another opportunity for you Jack. If you beat me, then you’ll once again be able to talk about your superiority. If not, then you’re just another victim of the mystique of Mac Bane. You’ll join the likes of Mark Cross and Alex Jones. It took me three chances to defeat them as well.

I smirk at that thought and roll my eyes.

It shouldn’t have, but that’s a story for another day. I guess I’m in the minority around here because I respect your track record and your skill in the ring. The one thing I can’t stand about you is your attitude when it comes to people you’re competing against.

I feel my eyes harden and my jaw set as I continue.

So, here we are once again, Jackass.

I shake my head in disgust since I know how predictable Jack is in what he says.

You’ll tell the world once again how great you are and how much everyone else sucks, especially me. You’ve beaten me before and so you’ve earned the right to brag and be arrogant.

It’s a fact and I felt it needed to be reiterated.

If I were in your place I’d do the same thing, it’s about all you have to brag about these days.

Next is the low-hanging fruit, but not everyone follows scw so it needs to be pointed out.

I mean, the last time you held a world title was in 2021, too bad you didn’t do more with it when you had it.

We’ve all had reigns like that to be fair, but it’s the reaction I’ll get from him that matters. It’s all part of the game and the strategy.

The first time was almost impressive, when you beat Alex Jones, you held that title for almost three months. You reclaimed it in March and lost it in May when you ran into Mark Cross.
I smirk at the camera, then wink.

Don’t feel bad though, he didn’t do much with it either. I would later beat Mark Cross for my first reign. Funny thing is, you talk about being a great champion, you know whose name I don’t see on the hundred-day club?

Obviously amused now, I can’t allow the smile to fade, it must be emphasized in order to drive that point home.

Yours.

I chuckle a bit before continuing.

My combined reigns are second only to J2H to put it into fucking perspective for you.

I shake my head in disgust as I’m getting closer to wrapping this up.

For all that greatness you talk about having, all the time, your talk doesn’t track very well, know what I mean?

I smirk yet again because I can almost hear the excuses that he’ll use in response.

I get it, you’ve obviously been held back by management, right? Your personal life has you too busy to compete like you want to? Yeah, I get it, man, life is hard. It’s harder if your stupid Jack. Not for you, but for those around you. This match won't be pretty. Knox isn’t the only one with receipts coming, hoss. Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you and he did to Ken back when he held that Internet Championship.

I look down at my watch and tap the face of the watch.

tick tock mother fuckers, your time is running out.


{The Oblivion Ranch - Las Vegas - NV - “The X Factor”}

One of the many reasons I loved this screened-in back porch that we have on the back of the house is the night jasmine. If you got out here early enough to catch it as it bloomed the fragrance was amazing. The smell always seemed to calm me, when I needed it most. Right now was one of those times. There was a chill to the air, but it wasn’t harsh, wearing the cotton sweatpants and hoodie helped to ward off that chill. The coffee was hot and black, which suited me perfectly. I’ve heard people joke about just black coffee being associated with psychopathic behavior. That thought made me chuckle. I caught the whiff of cinnamon as the door to the house quietly fell into place. A fresh carafe of coffee was set in place and the old one set on the ground beside the table. “Good morning gorgeous,” I said to her quietly. In response, a kiss on the cheek, “You know the rules, Mac.” Indeed I did, no talking before coffee, so I chuckled in response. She sat down in the chair not far from me, taking her first sips. She inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled. “Is that why you’re out here so early in the morning? That night jasmine is amazing.” I smiled and nodded, “One of the many,” I responded to her as she studied the creeping vines of the plant. Just her presence alone brought me peace of mind, it was when she was away that I tended to “act up” as they would say.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re up so early today?” I glanced over at her, she didn’t seem angry or anything, curious, really. So I indulged her, “I recently had a “meeting” with Gabriel, the meeting might be a stretch but it is what it is.” Her reaction was as expected, she only frowned slightly and arched an eyebrow. “Oh,” she asked in a tone that would be best described as mildly interested. I gave her a curt nod in return, “Yeah, he’s quite the advocate for you, at least he was smart about how he did what he did. He was trying to rattle me, which is nothing new. People have been trying to do that for years.” That last statement caused her to smirk. “I can rattle you,” she said with a coy smile. “Since day one darlin’”, I said in the same way. I paused for a moment to take a sip of coffee and then I lit a cigarette. The acrid smell caused her to wrinkle her nose at me, as I judged the wind and redirected the smoke accordingly. “He made sure to put steel between us and literally shook the bars. The symbolism wasn’t lost on me.” I laughed, as I recalled the moment. “I told you I would support you after you chose him to help you, I wasn’t kidding and I wasn’t trying to be deceptive about it.” I took another drag from the cigarette. “You’ve been smart not to meet with him face to face, and this was not the first time that he and I have ever spoken either. You always walk away from that feeling like a test subject he had just gotten done probing and prodding.”

“But I haven’t ended up in one of his rooms at the psychiatric hospital he runs, so I haven’t made him that angry so far.” I said it in an amused tone, speaking from what I know he had done in the past. I looked in her direction for a few seconds and it seemed as if no reaction or words were forthcoming. “What else,” she said in a barely audible whisper. “How about the fact that my wife could die in that ring against that monster? That’s caused me a few sleepless nights, but the level of respect I have for you keeps dashing that thought from my brain. I believe in you, Red, but she is dead set on your complete destruction. I did make you a promise, I will not interfere in your match. You have my word, even though my heart is screaming at the top of its lungs.” The previous cigarette had burned out, and I lit another one. I take a long drag and exhale slowly. “Your advocate is known for playing both ends against the middle, he’s the X factor in all of this. He’s a great ally when he’s truly on your side. Which side he’s on depends on who wins the match, love. Then he’ll take the credit for your winning it.” She shrugged it off, “Maybe he deserves that credit, he’s already done quite a bit to help.” I returned the shrug, “Maybe he does, time will tell.”


“Family”

People put a lot of value in their “blood” family members and maybe that’s fair. It’s never been my experience though, my experience has been that I have family members that are not blood that is more loyal than those who are. Ken has always been one of those, one of my “Brothers from another mother” types. We were closer now than we ever had been and so I had cut him some slack on the whole Masque thing, trying to give him time to sort through where he is at and what his goals were. Now we had to be in the same ring, fighting for a title, the title he took from me. Here I was trying to take that belt back for an unprecedented fourth run as the Sin City World Champion and he was trying to defend it against 3 men so he could fight another day as a champion.

Am I my brother's keeper? You’re goddamn right I am. Ken has been a crucial part of my life for almost two decades. This is one of the men, who stood by my side as my first wife lay there dying and there was nothing I could do to help her, let alone save her. He was my best man when I eventually got married again. This is a man that took someone else's daughter and loved her like she was his own. He took in the daughter of Dorian Hawkhurst, who was like a son to both of us.

My eyes try to well up on me at the mention of Dorian and Chloe but I shut that down and continue talking about the virtues of Ken Davison.

The man, who has not only beaten me but Finn Whelan as well. He said that we are kindred spirits and he’s not wrong about that. We’ve been to hell and back again on more occasions than either of us would like to remember.

I smile fondly at some of those memories as they came bubbling up. I reach down for the tumbler full of scotch with a lone ice cube in the shape of the death star. I hold the glass up as a salute to him and taking a sip I set it back down on the table.

This is the way, brother. Maybe you and I are just forever connected. We’ve fought side by side and made each other bleed on countless other occasions. Whether I was right or wrong, he always had my back, and I’ve always had his.

I light a cigarette and inhale deeply, and then slowly exhale, occasionally creating a smoke ring.

That doesn’t mean we always agree, but we always find a way to resolve any issues we may have with each other. I’m thankful they put me in this match, it would hurt my soul if Jack or Knox were to walk away with the title. I’m not a fan of an unfair playing field. Not to mention, why would I pass up the opportunity to stick it to those two slack-jawed dipshidiots?

I smile at the camera for the first time in a long time.

I wouldn’t, but I also wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to win that title back for a fourth reign.

I wink at the camera as I take another drag off of my smoke.

See, Ken knows me all too well. What I say here tonight, he already knew I would say. Maybe not the tone, but he knows with me, there are no hidden meanings to anything I might say.

I nod as I take another sip from my scotch.

You have had my respect for a long time, brother mine, there are however a few unanswered or should I say unasked questions.

I set the glass down a little heavier than I had intended.

Before you challenged me for the first match, you called me out in front of the others. The more important aspect is that you called me out in front of the world. You and I should have that conversation soon. I have my suspicions about why you did that, but I don’t want to make accusations or speculate about it.

Fade

[GKD]

It's dawn. There's thick fog. There's a tranquil feel to the place. Despite the temperature being a tick above fifty degrees. “Godly” Ken Davison sits on the Atlantic Shoreline listening as the waves dutifully rise and fall, as they have done for generations and eons long before man walked the earth. The line of vision isn’t very far, the mist obscuring the horizon off in the distance. Not that it was important. For Ken, it was the smell of the ocean, the sound of the tide cresting and crashing. Those were the sensations that he found relaxing.

It’s not even that he is lost in thought. His mind is blank. It’s more that he is in a meditative trance. With all the moving parts concerning his upcoming match, he needed this time to focus7 on his approach, manage his stress, and increase his self-awareness. What he was unable to do is gain any sort of perspective on how he would deal with the awkward dynamics of his first title defense. Without opening his eyes, he reaches down and grabs his ceramic coffee tumbler, adorned with mini peanut butter cups and the Reese’s logo, a present from Adina who chose from Walmart’s finest selection. Ken subconsciously smiles as the warmth of the beverage warms his gullet on its way to his intestines.

There was a certain serenity in his solitude. Things at home couldn’t be better. After their reconciliation, Ken and Kyra were in the process of attempting to conceive. There was most certainly no complaint about the exact amount of trying that Davison’s were partaking in. That is why Ken sought out the quietude of Rocky Point Beach. It didn’t matter how Mac Bane, Jack Washington, or Matt Knox were preparing for this match. When you have four competitors with the combined talent and accolades of this quartet, every opponent presents their own threat.

But that isn’t why Ken was here. Well, it is why Ken is here in the larger picture. But, in this place, at this moment, he has come to get away from those thoughts which have haunted him ever since his first defense was announced. The drizzle coming down from the sky is cold, but the freshness of the air is a stark contrast to the air coming from the salt chuck thirty yards away from him. It was a welcome, but only a momentary distraction. The rhythm of the water, like an aquatic metronome, also slowly fades into the background, a sort of white noise just blending into everything else. Ken’s very essence seems to slip into the flow of subliminal thought, adrift in a world of either dreams or hallucination, not that he would be able to differentiate the two. From somewhere within his hippocampus, the part of the brain that controls your dreams, Ken hears an old, familiar voice.

“How have you been, son?”

It was the voice of Robert Murante, the man who took him in when he was a fifteen year old runaway. Ken turns to see his father, surrounded in a grayish glow, like a force ghost out of Star Wars. Ken shakes his head in disbelief, but the attempt to ascertain the reality of the situation changes nothing.

“I guess I’m okay. Trying to be the best husband and father I can be.  If I can be a quarter of the father you were, I’ll do alright.”

“Are you taking care of yourself? Are you still wrestling?”

“Well, I’m currently a world champion in one company I work for.”

“That’s not what I asked. I asked if you were taking care of yourself. You’ve never needed a title to be a champion.”

Even in this endorphin driven fantasy, that was the most “dad” thing Ken could have possibly heard.

“Well, you know how it goes. I mean, I have been wrestling since I was, what, eighteen? I had three concussions in the first six months of training. With how much I pushed, how much I’ve driven myself, I’ve picked up a concussion here, a concussion there. Now I’m twenty six years deep, Lord knows I should be a vegetable. Between that and the heart attack…”

Ken’s voice trails off, disappearing into the mist.

“I mean, I get everything checked out regularly. My ticker seems to be okay. All of the MRIs and EEGs and all of that show that I’m fine. I want to do this for as long as I can.”

“What happens if they are wrong, Ken? What happens if YOU are wrong?”

“I have fought too hard and too long to create this life. Wrestling is all I know. I have a family to think about and my wife and I wanna start having kids soon. Whenever Kyra gets knocked up, that’s it. I’m done. End of the road. If I’m still under contract, I’ll do what I have to do because you taught me to be a man of my word. I’m not the type of man to, I don’t know, win a championship then immediately quit leaving my coworkers and employers hanging. I am a professional and I am better than that.”

“Then why will it be so hard for you to walk away. Why can’t you go home and become a family man?”

The question is asked thoughtfully, not in an attacking manner.

“Kyra is the love of my life, but wrestling is my mistress. I have wrestled in high school auditoriums and I have won a world championship in front of thousands of screaming fans in a sold out arena in India. I’ve met people that I consider family, such as Mac Bane and LA Riotz. These are men who have been friends, mentors and brothers for over twenty years. You couldn’t ask for a better life than this and in the past few years I am finally learning to appreciate those things. One day, I will be ready to settle down and start a new life. But, today isn’t that day and tomorrow doesn’t look good either.”

Pause. Silence. Nothing. Only an interested expression on the apparitions visage.

“What I am trying to say is that every joy, every heartache, everything I have in life, is because of wrestling.”

“When you build a foundation, you don’t spend forever there. You build around it. You aren’t meant to suffer on cold concrete your entire life. I think we can both agree that you’ve done enough of that.”

“So, you’re telling me that I should just move on with my life and walk away?”

“I’m not telling you anything. This is your vision, not mine.”

Before the conversation can continue, a faint voice disrupts Ken’s zen induced mirage. His eyes fill with tears as his father fades back into a mere memory.

“Ken… Ken? KEN?!”

Ken begins coming out of his catatonic stupor, returning to his earthly vessel due to his body being shaken violently by his wife. He begins to sit up, placing his hand on his sand covered face, momentarily confused. Before he can fully get his bearings, Kyra is practically squeezing the life out of him. She is holding him so tightly, so close, that he can feel her heart beating in his own chest.

"Oh thank God…." she says as she releases her hold on his body. She puts her hands on his face, looking into his eyes checking to see exactly what happened to her husband. Ken moves his arm up, gently placing his right hand on her left one.
     
“Hey… mama.” the words come out of Ken’s mouth in quiet, hushed tones. Kyra is nowhere near as calm, practically throwing Ken’s hand off of her’s so that she can check his own pulse. To her, it is unexpectedly calm. In their time together, this was the first time that she was truly afraid for her husband. It was a new fear, a fresh emotional wound she was not prepared for.

“Are you okay?  Do you need a doctor?”

“A vodka? Heaven’s no. You know I don’t drink.”

Ken isn’t trying to be facetious. He’s still half in reality and half in his dream state.

“A doctor. I said, “do you need a doctor?”

“Oh, a doctor. No. I don’t think so. I’m fine. I was just sitting here meditating and next thing I know, my dad was here and then… it was you.” Ken pauses for a moment while Kyra takes in what Ken is saying. “Am I dead? Pretty sure you’re an angel.”

Kyra shakes her head.  “Nope.  Delusional, but not dead.”

Ken sits up on his elbows, nearly knocking over his cup of sweet, delicious nectar of the gods. Kyra puts her arm behind his back, lifting him up to a sitting position and wiping the remaining sand off of him.

“I’m fine. Really. I guess I just passed out,” Ken says as he takes another sip of coffee. “Hey, babe. I’ve got a question I want to ask you.”

She sits down beside him.  "And what might that be?"

“What adventures do you want to have before we die? Like, what if we just left everything behind and just did our own thing?”

She didn't answer right away, instead she stared at him as she contemplated a response.   Finally she let out a sigh.  “I don't know.  Honestly.  There’s so much out there to experience that I.. I don't think I could narrow it down right now.”

“If I am being honest with you, I want to have one good run before I retire and this match coming up could be the start of it. With all the moving parts between the two companies, and then taking a look back at some of the promos from when we were chasing the Co-op belts, I think I finally figured it out. Maybe I did. I don’t know.” Ken’s face scrunches up. It’s obvious that he has something he wants to ask, but isn’t quite sure how to go about asking. Finally, he blurts out “Do you think I’ve gone soft?”

Kyra looks at him incredulously, before shaking her head.  “No.  Absolutely not.  If anything, you're even more of a pain in the ass now that you've got us.  Besides, if you'd 'gone soft', you wouldn't be the world champ right now.  You wouldn't have beaten Mac for it to begin with and you sure as hell wouldn't have gotten it back from what's his name.”

She smirks.

“Well, what’s his name isn’t my concern anymore. But, I’m thinking about Chicago, not Vegas. I’m thinking about Orsen, Rydell, Pierce and Vespertine, in that order.  In Sin City, I know where I stand. I’ve proven myself and I’m damned sure going to prove it again when the time comes. But I’d be lying if being successful in one company and just sucking in another didn’t concern me.”

She shrugs her shoulders.  “It's exactly that, Ken.  Two different places.  Two different companies and rosters.  You don't suck.  Far from it.  But I know that ain't gonna do anything to ease your worry over it.”

“Yeah, we’ve been through this before. I know. But maybe that’s the issue. Maybe I need to stop treating them as two different places and start taking the same mentality. Once we finally got the Cooperative titles, I feel like maybe, I don’t know, maybe I just feel like it was mission accomplished and that’s why I got soft. Like Gabriel beat me, then Morgan beat me, but as soon as it was us against them, it didn’t matter because I knew that WE were greater than I. There, I don’t have you to fall back on and maybe that’s the difference. That sounds really shitty to say, but I mean, when it’s a singles match, it makes sense.”

“Well, here’s your chance to really assert yourself without me, you know? You’ve never needed me to be one of the best, but you’ve gotta believe that for yourself.”

“I think you just hit the nail on the head. I just want to excel no matter where I am. I want to be the best so I can give you and the girls the best.”

Kyra leans her head on Ken’s shoulder. “You already do. But it’s about what’s best for us, not what’s best for everyone but you.”

“When you’ve got twenty something years of only worrying about yourself, you feel like you have a lot of making it up to do.”

“Hold up. You’ve said that you did all of that for Crystal. You said the only reason you came to UGWC was to win the Cooperative belts with me. You went to Sin City for you and you are doing amazing there. So what you need to do is win the Global Challenge for yourself. Damnit! You need to go out there, beat the piss out of Holden Orson, then bury those assholes in SCW to make a statement. You talk about how you are one of the best in this industry. Go out there and fucking prove it!”

“You know what? You’re right,” Ken says before kissing Kyra with a fiery passion that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe, just maybe, Masque was right. Maybe the old melody could harmonize with the current symphony.
______________________________________________________________________

“Godly” Ken Davison stands in front of a plain black backdrop, wearing a pair of black jeans and his Baltimore Elite baseball jersey, a nod to his tag team with his wife. Around his waist is the SCW World Heavyweight Championship belt.

“At the advice of my legal counsel, Finn Whelan, now that I have won the Sin City World Championship, I am going to get the fuck out of wrestling. Thank you.”

Davison walks off camera and the picture remains still for seconds. As time passes, it begins to feel longer, even though you can hear a clock ticking in the background, the only thing breaking the silence. After about fifteen seconds, Davison returns.

“You didn’t really think that I was going to just leave. Did you? That’s Knox’s gimmick.”

A sly smirk crosses Davison’s face, taking a moment to appreciate the first barb.

“In this match, we have three men, vying for the Sin City Wrestling World Heavyweight Championship. We have three men who want to prove that they deserve to stand atop the proverbial mountain. We have three mortal men… and a god. That’s right, in this business, I am a Kendamned God. I am every bit as good as I say I am. I have proven that I do not belong at the top of the mountain, I AM THE TOP OF THE MOUNTAIN. Everything I’ve told you, everything you've heard is true. I am not one in a million. I’m not even one in a billion. I am one of a kind. People try to walk around claiming to be the best in the world. Best in the world is just a gimmick. I'm better than the best. I actually am as good as everybody pretends to be. It's scary. So yeah, it's pretty good to be me.”

“But there's one thing that I can't stand. That makes my blood boil. It's being ignored. And being ignored even when I yell and scream and beg as loud as I can! Look at the year end awards. I wasn’t even nominated. I guess winning the Internet Championship and then the World Championship doesn’t count for anything. Jack Washington could barely put me away. He couldn’t make me quit. Everyone knows that I have no quit. Everyone knows that I am an indestructible wrestling machine and I get better every day. After the match at Blaze of Glory, I went on to bigger and better things. Even after a quarter of a century, I keep getting better. Each and every week, I rise to another level. While most of the roster just sits there in the locker room every week and watches me become better than they ever were!”

Davison sits down on a stool he had placed prior to the start of filming. He takes some deep breaths to regulate himself, not wanting to get worked up too soon.

“In life, you are either a thermostat or a thermometer. You either set the temperature or you react to it. As world champion, Right there, I could have gone off the rails, but the reason I didn’t is because I am the man who creates the climate. I set the tone. As world champion, that is my job. While I may have my faults, I still have a respect for this business that Matt Knox and Jack Washington lack. I have no respect for you, Matt, and I barely have any for Washington, either. I am not going to pretend for a single moment that I do, either. Today I learned that the blue whale’s anus can stretch three and a half feet, making it the third largest asshole behind the two of you. But, back to Knox. Jack, I’ll get back to you later. When I first crossed paths with you, I looked down the road and all I saw was potholes. You came into this business, you stripmined it, you took what you could get out of it and you left the young guys behind you. Oh, and Knox, you’d better not bring up your young boy Bert, because anyone who has paid attention to his career knows that he’s just a “Diet Raven” who learned how to quit from his full calorie equivalent. Where I come from, you don’t give respect. You don’t get respect. You earn respect. Ask Mac Bane where our friend started. He’ll tell you that we beat respect out of one another. That is how the Saviors roll. That’s why we are the ones who will leave our legacy. We are the ones who will show the young lions the way, while you will simply fade away.”

“I know that right now, you and I have some of the same objectives, Knox. That doesn’t mean that I’m not going to put you in your place before that. We know the type of man you are. But you, “Raven”, do not know what kind of man I am. You see, you believe I'm obsessed with you. Here's a thing, Matty. I don't give two shits about you, I never have. I never will. There is no obsession. The only thing I am obsessed with… I'm obsessed with kicking your ass. As Sin City’s resident “Truth Hammer” I have to be honest. We are at the stage of our careers that if I cannot beat you, with your delusions of adequacy; then I have no business being in the ring anyways. I have stood here the entire time you were gone, carrying the banner for this company while you took your ball and went home because you knew you couldn’t beat Mac Bane again.”

Davison swings his foot and the sound of a rubber ball bouncing off the wall, one familiar to any kid that ever got hit in the face with a dodgeball, echoes for a brief moment.

“I wouldn’t call you a great wrestler, Knox, which is surprisingly not because I hate your punk ass. The fact of the matter is I hate you because you don’t have any concept of anything except self-preservation. You pay me no respect at all. Hence and thus, I don't pay you any respect. It's no secret we don't get along. I will say this much, you’re a good wrestler. But, he’s a coward. You’re not a leader and you aren’t a role model. You have shown you are afraid to fight. You showed you’re afraid to remain loyal when you fed Amber Ryan to the wolf. I might not like Amber, but at least I have the decency to stab her in the chest. You, Knox, you are a fraud. You can criticize the rest of us, but let’s face it, at least we have spines. Hell, I talk all the time about my heart attack. Judging from the way you wrestle, I don’t think you’re capable of having one.”

“And the truth is that I am going to get you, Knox. This time I swear on all 47 of your children that I am gonna get you. I am going to get Jack Washington, because he was the man that profited from it. Originally, I was going to come out here and tell the world that I wasn’t going to quit this time. I simply cannot do that because it would be a lie. You want the truth? The truth is you don't have a future because I'm gonna burn down everything around you until you're the last man standing and I'm gonna keep you alive just long enough to look you in the eye and hurt you worst of all. I am going to put you in The Hands of God and I am going to watch as your very soul leaves your body. So tell me, you son of a bitch, am I lying? Am I?”

Davison pauses, using the Khaby Lame hand gesture. He reaches over and grabs a bottle of water, taking a few gulps before placing it back where it was.

“Jack, I hope you understand that you have to be hurt because my words will not be enough to  get through to you and a show of force has become necessary. But, I pity you Jack. You are sitting here as the dark horse, lying there in a weakened mental state because you don’t realize just how into your own head that Knox and I have gotten. You see, you took it for granted that one show of force would be enough, that you'd see the way and walk down the path of victory because you defeated the two of us in that Internet Championship match a few months back.. So, I won't blame you for the sins you feel have to be committed, for the way that the two of us surpassed you in defeat must have clouded your mind, but, nonetheless, you have to be hurt.”

“I don't think the people fully understand what I'm going through here! I don't think the people understand what kind of crosses powerful righteous men like myself are burdened to carry! You see, Jack, when the world has gotten me down, I go back and watch THAT match. I turn the volume down, and bask in the fluorescent rays of the moment you put me out! It was not a defeat because I showed the world that I would not quit, would not give up, regardless of the odds and that state of mind serves me very well in this situation. And as I lay there unconscious, you celebrated victory. When I woke up, I allowed you to have a moment while I plotted my next movement. I was already awaiting my next move, awaiting my next challenge, I fell asleep Jack, and woke up to realize that it had all come to pass, that all my suffering had been worth it, and not only was Jack Washington the Sin City Wrestling Internet Champion, but I was a loser. But as I wiped the sleep from my eyes, I realized that it was not Jack Washington holding that championship belt, it was Jack Washington releasing me from the shackles of the bottom of the card.”

“You see Jack, men like Mac Bane, Goth, who I feel should be in this match because he’s done far more than you have the last year, and the GKD, “Godly” Ken Davison, we are not content to simply wait our turn! We are the Mount Rushmore of this company for a simple reason - when we see something we want, we go after it. We take what we want and I feel like this company would be wise to remember that. And if we can't take it, we create their own. That very thought is what keeps me going. There was no world championship opportunity for me to take, so I made one. Like a Kendamned magician, I fabricated one before the eyes of the entire industry, right out of thin air. Luckily, Jack, it's not all over for you! Because oh! The magic they can weave! With one wave of their wand, the suits have bestowed upon you the gift of opportunity, one that you may be able to use by turning a defeat into another chance at greatness. Not that I expect that to happen, because whatever your Mommy and Daddy told you about being anything you want to be in this world…” Davison verbally scoffs. “Well, it may not be true most of the time, but in the magical land of Sin City Wrestling, you truly can be anything you want to be! You can be anything you want to be except Sin City Wrestling World Heavyweight Champion.”

Ken folds his hands in front of himself, making sure to very carefully choose his words. There are things that he knows, that he wants to say, that he is better off not sharing… at least not yet.

“I've seen it all a hundred times. Jack, the magic they can weave. I've seen a tough Canadian raised kid from Croatia become a black belt from Japan. I've seen a farm kid from Nebraska become an overnight rap star sensation. I've seen a kid from New Hampshire become a Frenchman. And one particular wrestler who went through five different incarnations before finding himself heavyweight champion of the world. I’m sure that if you wanted to, you could even become a woman and get your ass handed to you by Chloe Benton once you realize this isn’t going to work out for you.”

“But I'm not going to write you off completely, because I know what you are capable of. I just do not believe that you have come to the realization of exactly what I am capable of. Two World Championships certainly aren’t going to convince you. That is why I feel the need to not only show you, but to hurt you, to maim you if need be. If I have my druthers, I want you to fade into obscurity. I want you to be one of those guys who in about five or six years is featured on the SCW Network on an episode of “Where Are They Now?” While I not only rose, I ascended to become Zeus, the head of the Parthenon in Sin City Wrestling. While you are more like Eris, the Greek Goddess of jealousy and discord. Sure, people know about you and the ones that do, well, they don’t really like you.”

Davison takes another sip out of his water bottle, standing up as he puts it back. He leans forward, holding his hands to his temples.

“Mac Bane, you know that somewhere deep inside this demented mind, there lurks a soft spot. It is a soft spot for the things that have gone through in my life; a soft spot for the wrestling history in my life; a soft spot,Mac Bane, for you. You know, because you are a part of my wrestling history. Twenty years ago, when “Godly” Ken Davison was just starting to build a legend; twenty years ago when Mac Bane was just starting to exist.”

“And so when I heard with eager ears the tales of the Mac Bane in the place we dare not speak its name, and my contacts sent word and said that Bane is fabulous, because that’s how people talked back then. But I heard about you, Mac, and I was proud. I was so very proud. I watched every time you piledrove another helpless opponent, it brought me pride! And every time you smashed a steel chair against somebody's skull, IT MADE ME PROUD! Because I knew who you were taking your lessons from, or should have been taking lessons from. You've learned really well; because Mac Bane doesn't and still does not CARE about winning. You care about incapacitating people as a means to the end and winning is the byproduct of that.”

“Just like twenty five years ago, Tunzafun, as I was known at that time, did not have a care in the world! Being that fun loving buffoon got me nowhere. I hate seeing film from those days, look in my eyes, and you can see that I was just happy to be there. I evolved, I became a sadistic, evil man. That is the man you knew then, Mac. The thing is, that isn’t who I am any more. I am a changed man! BECAUSE I LIKED TO WIN. I liked the ego-gratification of the one, two, three; I liked to have my hand in the air and I LIKED to carry around championships like this one right here. And therefore, I have become a weaker man. Because the three of you were chosen to cross my path, YOU WERE CHOSEN TO FACE A LIVING HELL!!! Because Finn Whelan has awoken a sleeping giant; made me ashamed of the man I have become!”

Ken spits on the ground at the mention of the most recent former World Champion.

“I can Kendamned guarantee and make you a vow right now, THAT I'M NOT GONNA BE THAT MAN ANYMORE! Because as of now, Ken Davison DOES NOT CARE! You look at me, ALL OF YOU LOOK AT ME and you, Bane, I want you to remember real well: Remember during the Saint’s Day Massacre match? I put the garbage can across your head AND YOU DIDN'T GO DOWN! I put it across your head a second time and not only didn't you go down, but I saw the slight remain OF A SMILE! And I said: “Mac Bane is playing head games with the master. AND HE'S WINNING!” It wasn’t until that moment that I remembered sometimes the victory is not the win, but in the statement that was made. So, Mac Bane, I forgot the world around me and I sent us both through that barb wire wrapped, flaming table. I know I can hurt you. I know you can hurt me. With you, psychological warfare is out of the game.”

“And that is why I am asking you three for the favor: you meet me in my match! We take this fatal four way match and we add the element of danger to it. You can play this by the book or we can take advantage of the fact that these multi-man matches are no disqualification. Not that I give two shits if you do or not, I learned my folly when Jack Washington defeated me for the Internet Championship. As I said before, that day was possibly the greatest day of my Sin City Wrestling Career, but don’t think for a Kendamned second that I will allow that to happen again. I show Mac Bane respect, but the man has earned it. You other two ass clowns? I’m only just getting started. People will leave this match hurt. The following morning, you will wake up feeling the familiar pain coming from your battle scars. You will all know that you have been in a war and you will know that it is all because of the man who will be the man who will be announced as “AND STILL SIN CITY WRESTLING HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION,” “Godly” Ken Davison.”

Ken makes a slashing motion at his throat and the picture fades to black.

[Jack Washington]

Prologue:

It has been some time since we were with Jack. Last time out, he defeated Fenris, and staked his claim with Christain Underwood to receive a SCW World title match at Inception, among his other complaints.  Jack has been entered into the World title match at Inception after his most recent performances, and it has given Jack a giant boost in confidence, though he remains as annoyed and grumpy as ever when it comes to his perceived lack of respect from SCW in general. But Jack must be all that aside in order to focus on his ultimate goal of winning the SCW World title for the third time, and becoming only the third man in SCW history to do so. He has a tall task ahead of him facing down the likes of Mac Bane, Matt Knox, and SCW World champion Ken Davison, but if there is one thing Jack isn’t shy about, it’s letting the world know his thoughts and opinions.

 

Outside the ring, Jack had been taking therapy sessions, perhaps to get in touch with his feelings, or to sort through the real mess that his life actually was. Owning a casino, drug deals, involvement with killers, a seeming lifetime bad from his own hometown and dealing with family problems has maybe given Jack some perspective, but given all that has happened in his life, perhaps it was a welcome change for Jack. But it did manage to open some old wounds, and maybe, arouse the curiosity in Jack to get the whole story.

--

Washington Estate

Las Vegas, NV.

 

Jack was seated in his recliner and looking at his phone, looking for just random news and events on social media, while Brian, read the newspaper and sipped on coffee in the early morning. The silence continued until Jack stood up and stretched. Brian peered over his paper and smirked.

 

Brian: You got another therapy session coming?

 

Jack: It’s in a few days. Why?

 

Brian: I just wondered.

 

Brian looked back down at the paper and continued to read, but Jack knew better.

 

Jack: Clearly you are interested.

 

Brian: I was just curious. I wish I had someone to sit down and listen to all my problems sometimes.

 

Jack: What’s the supposed to mean?

 

Brian: I’m just saying. I don’t know if I could get paid to listen to someone else bitch about their lives. Couldn’t pay me enough to do that. But if it helps you, more power to you.

 

Jack: You don’t need to be paid to listen to people bitch.

 

Brian: Tell me about it.

 

Jack slowly turned his icy glare at Brian.

 

Jack: You saying I’m complaining all the time?

 

Brian: Well, not to me, anyway.

 

Jack: I’m saying that all you would have to do is spend an hour on twitter. People bitch about everything there.

 

Brian: I’m good. I’ve got reliable information right here.

 

Brian tuffs out the paper to emphasize the point.

 

Jack: Nobody reads the newspaper anymore.

 

Brian: Exactly. Everybody’s got an opinion, everybody’s an expert, and nobody has any reliable information on your little phone there. You want information, it’s right here in the paper. 

 

Jack scoffs at this.

 

Jack: The only thing in the newspaper is things everybody already knows and a bunch of ads. I can see anything I need to see on my phone in seconds. The newspaper is outdated information the day it comes out. 

 

Brian: But it’s accurate. 

 

Jack: Is it?

 

Brian: Up until that point, yes. Nobody is chiming in and giving misinformation instantly either. There’s pros and cons, I guess you could say.

 

Jack: Pros and cons. Yeah. What does it have to do with my therapy? 

 

Brian: It doesn’t. But you brought it up. 

 

Jack thinks for a second. He licks his lips, and sighs, he knows what he’s about to ask needs to happen delicately. 

 

Jack: Speaking of reliable information.

 

Brian: Oh boy...

 

Jack: What happened to Josh?

 

Brian, who had been half-heartedly looking at Jack, lowered his paper and stared Jack in the face.

 

Brian: Your brother Josh?

 

Jack: Yes.

 

Brian: He’s dead.

 

Jack: I know that part.

 

Brian: He died before I could get him somewhere they could help him. 

 

Jack: But did you do everything you could to help him?

 

Brian’s mouth opens slightly from the shock of what Jack is inferring. His mouth curls into a sneer of defiance.

 

Brian: Of course I did! I killed a fucking cop to try and save his life. I tried to get him somewhere where they could patch him up. You both had cops chasing you. What was I supposed to do?! What would you have liked me to do, Stick?! 

 

Jack: I don’t know.

 

Brian: I think your little therapy sessions is making you soft. You know I did what I could for Josh. He’s my nephew. Just like you are, and just like Jay is.  I would and have done almost anything for you, because you are family. And if I could have saved your brother... if I could have saved my nephew, I would have.

 

Jack finally nods, seemingly satisfied with the answer.

 

Jack: I just needed to know. I just needed to know.

 

Brian is able to regain his composure after a moment or two and nods.

 

Brian: Good. Guess I had my own little therapy session there.

 

Jack: I guess so. 

 

Brian: If your session brought that up, that’s your answer. I did what I could for Josh. If he made it, hell... he might be right here with you. But you can’t think about what could have been. You have to think about what you gotta do.

 

Jack: Yeah...

 

--

Grand Flamingo Casino

Las Vegas, NV

 

It’s New Year’s Eve. The Casino is hopping as many gamblers and tourists have chosen to spend their New Year’s in Vegas, and many at the Flamingo. It’s going to be a very successful night for the Washington brothers, as above all the noise and all the singing and dacing in the Casino itself, Jack and Jason are on the roof. There’s still plenty of chatter and indistinct noises coming from below them, but the two brothers have since tuned that out. They stand peering into the moonlight and at the sky above. Jack finally breaks the silence and puts an arm around Jason, patting him on the back.

 

Jack: It was good, Jay.

 

Jason: What?

 

Jack: This year.

 

Jason: Yeah, it was, wasn’t it?

 

Jack: I think so.

 

Jason: You’re not sure?

 

Jack: I guess not.

 

Jason: Then why’d you say it?

 

Jack: I guess... I wanted it to be true.

 

Jason: Bro, I don’t know, I think we really made some gains in this town, but you know what we have to do in order to really own it.

 

Jack: Jay, it’s the end of the year. This is supposed to be a time to celebrate and all that.

 

Jason: Maybe that’s the Army in me talking. You just learn that holidays are another day. The day moves on and you can’t be sitting here thinking about yesterday. It’s not about that. The new day becomes the next thing you gotta do. 

 

Jack: That’s the problem. Sometimes you have to take a step back and think about things. There’s a time and place for that kind of stuff. I mean, we’re about to enter a new year and everything.

 

Jason: Maybe, but once 2022 is gone, it ain’t coming back, and you need to think about how 2023 is about to go. I mean, we’re doing this together, man.  We’ve GOT to do it together. 

 

Jack: Yeah...

 

Jack grabs a bottle of wine and just takes a swig from the bottle itself. He stands next to Jason, still looking out over the lit up Vegas strip.

 

Jack: You ever think about Josh?

 

Jason sighs.

 

Jason: Yeah. You were there man, I was too young to really do anything but... it’s one of the reasons I went away and... hell, maybe it’s part of the reason I got fucked up in my own head. I was trying to cope with that.

 

Jack: I guess that makes sense.

 

Jason: But, you know, he would be here with us if he was alive. And maybe things would have turned out differently. But we’re here now. We have to worry about the here and now. And what we can do to make it our time.

 

Jack: Yeah.

 

The countdown to the new year begins in the background.

 

Jack: Let’s make it happen.

 

The fireworks shoot off to indicate the new year has begun, and Jack and Jason toast to each other.

 

--

On Camera:

Click

 

Jack is seated in his home, in his chair, wearing a sardonic smile on his face. He is obviously cynical as ever as he starts, and the smile disappears.

 

Jack: Well, it’s 2023, and guess who STILL isn’t on the SCW Roster page? Yeah, you would think with all that time that the SCW brass had on its hands during the holiday season, they would make one TINY little change. But no. Let’s continue to be lazy and hide the biggest thing they have going even more. There are people on that roster page that don’t even work for this company, and I can’t get on it? That’s fucking stupid. Unlike the champions they want to champion, I haven’t bailed and walked away time and time again. I didn’t blow my chances time and time again. I’ve been here. Consistent. Rock solid. And what do I get for it? A good swift kick in the balls. I was very polite in my simple, humble request. And I have been ignored. Well, now, Inception is upon us and soon enough, there will be no god damn choice but to let the world know. 

 
But wouldn’t you know it, Jack Washington is finally getting the title shot he’s earned 10 times over and been passed over by losers, quitters, and a big fucking bag of uninteresting trash that has done nothing but tarnish that SCW world championship. I know it’s not what people want to hear, but since when have I given two shits what people want to hear? I tell them what they need to hear. The truth is hard to swallow, and I give everybody a big fist-full of it, and that’s what really annoys people. Because they can’t argue with the truth. I’ve laid it out plain as day and yet, people still don’t want to accept it. And that’s too damn bad. Because regardless of how you may feel about me, one thing I don’t do, is lie about the situation. And right now, the situation sucks, and this match really shouldn’t even be happening at Inception.

 
Oh, don’t get me wrong, there should be a World title match, but let’s just be real, Mac Bane, and especially Matt Knox, has ZERO business being in this championship match, and the only reason Ken Davison is here is because he happens to somehow have that championship. And everybody knows he doesn’t deserve it. The only truly deserving person is me. Jack Washington. It should just be me, kicking the shit out of Ken Davison yet again, and taking another title from him, yet again and then maybe, just maybe, you would think that I would get the recognition I deserve. The respect I deserve. Because I’ve fucking earned it. 

 
But with the way things are now, I won’t be holding my breath, even when I’m holding the world title over my head after Inception.

 

Jack pantomimes this action, slowly lowering his arms as he continues.
 
 
Jack: If I sound cocky, it’s because I am. But it’s really confidence. I know how good I am. I shout it at every given opportunity. But I just don’t talk the talk better than everybody here, I walk the walk better than everybody here. Nobody, absolutely NOBODY can do what I do, and I don’t need a stupid little thing to be who I am. I don’t need to wear stupid shit-kicking cowboy boots like Mac Bane, I don’t need to do some stupid religious thing like Ken Davison and I don’t need to be a constant disappointment like Matt Knox. I am the genuine article. I am just that good. But if you want, I can play any of those roles. And none of them can even fit in my shoes, much less walk in them. And that’s a fact. I’m the only one walking into this match who has earned it. Fact. I went into High Stakes, and low and behold, I won. I was put in a match against Fenris, and I won. The cream always rises to the top, and that’s what I’ve done. It’s all there for everybody to see. It’s not bragging if you can back it up, and there is NO ONE who can deny I have backed it up. Every single time I have been tested, I have passed, and now you present this Fatal Four-way match like any of these other schmucks have a chance in hell of walking out with the title. You know they don’t. I know they don’t. More importantly, THEY know they don’t. They are here to simply clear the path as I take back what was made for me. The SCW championship is a title I took right from the jump. I didn’t make any pit stops or struggle out of the gate. I mowed down every single thing in my path, and took it. 

 
And everybody got shook. 

 
So they brought in a ringer off the bench and he escaped with that title. And then I won it back and corrected that error. And then again, they dug deep in the talent roster and took it away from me. They couldn’t handle the fact that I was as good as I said I was. They wanted desperately to show everybody I was a fluke and it fucking backfired. So, now they’ve taken to basically blacklisting me. They don’t give me any credit and just hope I won’t notice. 

 
But I notice everything.

 
So now, it’s about to be a long fucking night for those three as I take back what is mine.

 

Jack licks his finger as if he’s about to go through notes, but obviously don’t have papers in his hands.
 
Jack: Where do we even start? With the Cowboy? The Old man? The Paper champion? I don’t know, but this is the most lackluster gathering of contenders I’ve seen in a while, and a garbage champion piled right on top of it. Let’s just line up these lambs for the slaughter.

 
Matt Knox? WHO? Where did you even come from? How did you get in here? How did you get anywhere NEAR this match? I mean, you must know somebody, have some friends in high places or something because I know DAMN WELL you haven’t done shit in like a year. What? A blink-and-it’s-fucking-gone world title reign? You think beating the Cowboy is impressive? I got news for you, no matter how much they tell you Mac Bane is great, he’s not. And you, are even less impressive than that. Oh, you have a bunch of titles from other places? Well hot damn, color me impressed, my guy. You and 50 other guys make the same claim. But I’m sorry, you’re Arkansas-Talladega Nights World title just isn’t cutting it for me. I need more. You have come here, and for the past what…3-5 months, have done fuck all. You are wasting everybody’s time by just hanging around when it’s clear you do not belong here.

What have you done to earn this championship match? I mean, last time you and I were in the ring together, you not only didn’t earn it, you simply were in the match because you didn’t lose. And then when it came down to putting it out there, you sat back, I must say, wisely, but you sat back and watched me kick the shit out of Ken Davison. So it really just make me question how in the hell you got here, and got back to this spot. You’ve done ZERO to earn it. You’ve come back and proven that any successes you had are long in the past and you simply can’t cut it. 

And yet, here you are like a fucking roach refusing to die. It’s time that you just go away. But not only go away, but STAY away. You are taking up space and someone else far more deserving is just sitting there, wishing they could actually contribute, while you waste space and oxygen. You have been a loser and you continue to lose, but yet, here you are. It’s ridiculous that you are even here, and even more ridiculous that you actually think you have a shot. You have about a snowball’s chance in hell of walking away with a win, and I’m going to prove to the entire world that you should be nothing more than a fading memory and this is no longer your time. Because you know as well as I do, Knox, you’re time is up. It’s been up for a long time and all you have done is embarrass yourself with your most recent performances. That’s what you’ve done, and nothing more. It’s about time that you just hit that dusty trail and walk away. But, I know, the allure of the spotlight, it’s intoxicating. It makes you want to write checks you know your body is no longer capable of cashing. But you want to keep holding on, trying to keep a death grip on that spotlight, and each day that passes, it slips more and more through your fingers. And you know it.

Now, I don’t really care what your business is with the Cowboy, or his girl and how you just didn’t do shit like a complete bitch, but that shit should be settled away from this match. Period. The facts are just that. They don’t give a shit about your stupid squabbles. This is about my title, not your dumb ass feud.

I’m just here, to once again deliver the hard truth to the matter: It’s over Knox. It’s been over for a long ass time for you, you’re just the last person to know. Don’t you worry, I’ll make it crystal clear to you and everyone else at Inception.

 

Jack makes a check mark with his finger and continues.

 

Jack: Look, Cowboy, you know damn well you don’t belong here. You won the world title three times somehow, and nobody remembers or cares. They are trying to prop you up like you are special. I have already proven, not once, but twice, that you are not. And the thing is, you know that. Everybody knows that. You’re just a long-haired cowboy who has failed at doing pretty much everything he’s ever threatened to do. Like, for real, you can’t protect your girlfriend or whatever, you were busy with your feet kicked up and failed. You tried to build a group of friends to watch your back, and they turned on you and kicked YOU out of the damn group. You couldn’t be bothered to at least try. You’ve been doing nothing but living on the past, because for you, it’s going to be your peak. You know that as well as I do. 2022 is the year of Mac Bane, and it will never be like that again. EVER.

As I said, I proved that you weren’t great. You got some random world title wins and everything else has been uneventful and uninspiring. You may have some issues with Ken, or Knox, or both. I don’t care. Nobody does. You have done nothing to earn this match either. You have nothing to add to this match. You, much like Knox, are a warm body to make my inevitable victory all the more impactful. You honestly be better off just going and rustling some cattle or whatever it is you do in your spare time besides fail. I mean, honestly, you win one match here and there and now you’re getting a championship match? It’s absurd and you know it better than anybody, Cowboy.

I remember the last time you said you didn’t respect me. You didn’t think anything of me, because you thought I ran my mouth off all the time, I’m just some punk and all that. And you know the bad part about the whole thing, Cowboy? Even you didn’t sound like you meant it. If you want me to think at least slightly higher of you, I’m gonna need you to actually get off your hay bail or whatever and stop drinking longnecks at the bar with all the other rednecks and actually make me believe. It’s not me who has anything to prove, Cowboy, it’s you. I’ve been better than the best for a long ass time around here, and I have used you as a stepping stone TWICE in order to cement that fact. You really think this time is going to be any different? I mean, seriously? What? You got momentum because you beat... uh... Helluva Bottom Carter? Is that it, Cowboy? You want me to respect that? Sorry, that’s not how this shit works. 
The fact is, you are not on my level. You never were. All this will be at Inception, is more proof to what I say. You wanna try and stop me? You better bring your fanciest pair of wrangler jeans and you line-dancing shoes, because it’s going to be a long night for you, Cowboy. 

 

Jack even gives a tip of an imaginary cap before again making a check mark with his fingers.

 

Jack: But then we get to the biggest piece of trash I may have ever laid my eyes on. Ken Davison. I don’t know how this shit happened, but you somehow won the world title? You? I mean, holy shit the standards have dropped around here. I mean, you beat the Cowboy, I don’t know who that says more about, you or him, and then Finn Whalen barely even put up a fight and you are walking around here like you’ve done something.  You have done zero, my guy. Just a complete shitshow is the only reason you are wearing my title. Hell, the only reason you even HAVE it, is because I wasn’t the champion either time. I haven’t even gotten a world title match since you won it, either time. What’s wrong, Ken? Were you trying to duck me? 

You were the one that thought it was funny to say “Jack Washington can’t keep my name out of his mouth” right? You have a golden opportunity the first time you fluked your way to a title win, and you could have said: “I’ll beat Jack Washington so he shut up about me”

But, you didn’t. Because you’re a bitch.

Or, because you understood the truth of the whole situation. If you faced me, one on one for the championship, I would have beaten your ass, exposed you yet again, and you would have been left stewing and serving up dad one-liners on twitter to your little group of friends, so you can giggle and high-five each other to make yourself feel better about just not being good enough.

And so, you had the smarts not to mention my name and try and make sure that somebody else had my attention so you could have had something to actually brag about achieving outside of not wrestling with a receding hairline. You could have had something there Ken, but now, it’s nothing. All there is left is a foregone conclusion. At Inception I will beat your ass, I will beat the Old man’s ass, and I will beat the Cowboy’s ass, and I’m gonna take back my title. 

The fact is, Ken, you are also a person who doesn’t belong here. Hell, you WOULDN’T have been in the match if you hadn’t won the title. You would have been doing something else, but now, you just happen to be the person who has the championship. 

That’s it, nothing more.

You know it, I know it, everybody else does too. It’s just going to be like when I took the Internet championship from you. Yeah, I took that from you, and I will make sure everyone knows that you are nothing but a fucking pretender at Inception. Just like I did before. Except this time, I’m going to do it for a bigger prize on probably a grander scale. 

It’s not that I hate you Ken, I just think you suck. You suck at this. You aren’t as good as me. In fact, nobody is, so you shouldn’t feel as bad as you probably do. I know you’re sitting there, biting your fingernails and wondering how badly you’re going to lose. But I’m here to stay, don’t worry man, I’m going to beat your ass, take my title back, and then I don’t need to hear from you. I don’t need to see you anymore. You can go home and be a family man or whatever and I will take my rightful place, at the top of the mountain. I will prove to you and everyone else, I am, what I say I am.

The face of this franchise.

 

Jack stands up, having finished what he wanted to say for now.

 

Jack: It’s all pretty simple. 3 pieces of trash, one superstar. That is nothing and nobody that’s gonna stop me from taking the SCW world title out of the pit of despair it’s in now. Nobody wants, or needs Ken Davison as champion. Matt Knox is basically a ghost he’s so old, and as for the Cowboy? How many times can we watch the same jackass in the same stupid cowboy hat fail over and over and fucking over again before we finally get the point that he’s not as good as advertised?

There is only one option at this point. As much as the SCW brass has tried to sweep me under the rug and try and give these other jackasses a chance to do something, they only LOOK like they can. This right here is the most interesting the SCW title picture has been in what? 6 months? A year? Pretty much since I had it. I had people gunning for me. I had people taking a hard look at where they stood Now? Now every looks and is just... “meh” And I will not stand for that kind of bullshit on my franchise.

That’s just how it works.. I will make the tough calls as champion. As the man who will lead this company into the future, it’s obvious that we need players, not pretenders, not aging vets on their last legs, and certainly not people who get the job and suck. Any team, any organization will tell you the same thing. They want winners. They want to win, and in order to win, you need to have the best players out there.

I AM THE BEST PLAYER ON THIS TEAM.

And I will prove it at Inception.

 

Jack shoos the camera away and sits back down, pantomiming a belt motion.

 

Cut to black.


Click.

 

Face. Of. The. Franchise.

[GKD]

“I want to turn back the clock to before.”

This seems to be a common thought in the mind of “Godly” Ken Davison. Perhaps, that’s why he is standing here, at this moment. There's a restless feel to the place. However, the small town of Rockland, Massachusetts, located on the South Shore of the state, is usually a pretty quiet and boring place. With the sun setting off in the distance, the clouds creating a drab and overcast gray sky, there is absolutely nothing eye-catching as even the snow on the ground has melted and the few piles that remain are blackened with the dirt and gravel that were mixed in during plowing. Slowly driving into Holy Family Cemetery is a black 1989 Pontiac Grand Am with Maryland plates, a vehicle that is familiar to the caretakers of the grounds. Tall, weathered  oaks line the driveway, standing like silent sentinels watching over those who rest here. As the car rolls towards a large gray marble monolith in the center of the grounds, it turns down the last path to the right. The sound of small pebbles underneath the tires breaks the silence as the car comes to a stop.

From the driver’s side, Ken steps out. He is noticeably dressed down, wearing black jeans, a plain black t-shirt and a black leather trench coat. He reaches back into the car, grabbing a small bouquet of pink carnations. He walks past two plots reverently before stopping by the third. He walks over to the headstone and kneels, placing the carnations at the foot of the headstone, then kissing the top of it.

“Long time no talk.” 

Davison’s voice is quiet, soft, caring.

“It’s been a while and I wanted to come by and say hi. Let you know what’s going on. I’m at a bit of a crossroads and wanted to ask for your advice.”

Ken pauses, as though waiting for some kind of silent answer. The look on Davison’s face is telling, as though he was talking to an actual living, breathing person who, if alive, would be his most trusted confidant.

“Kyra, Adina and I are doing great. There were a few rough patches there. Kyra barely talked to me for two, three months. I guess I still haven’t figured out how to talk to anyone as easily as you and I. Then again, our conversations are always pretty one sided.”

Davison awkwardly pauses.

“I know I’ve told you before, but you’d really like her. She holds me accountable. But, I’ve been trying to figure something out. The way the lines cross, this is like a soap opera without the murders, at least, there haven’t been any thus far. Things with Mac are… tenuous at best. This whole situation with Masque has been a blessing and a curse, the literal definition of the old idiom about the double-edged sword. Masque has done things to Amber that I would have been proud of a few years back. She took the ‘blood stained hurricane’ and painted a sadistic masterpiece. Even after that, even knowing that Amber is Mac;s wife, she got in my ear. She’s reminded me of who I used to be. She’s reminded me of what I can do. But, this has put me at odds with Mac. We’re in the same book, but by no means on the same page.”

Davison’s face is crossed with guilt. He lets out a sigh that could probably be heard from three rows away, loudly expressing his frustration.

“So, anyway, I’ve got this match for the SCW World Championship against Mac, Matt Knox, and Jack Washington. It’s not like when Amber and I crossed paths back in Carnage. Mac wanted to tear my head off and shit down the hole. This time, that honor is reserved for Matt Knox. The thing is, Mac and I know what this is about. But, what do I do about Knox? Masque has plans for him, but by the same token, I’d really like to shove Knox’s head so far up his ass that they have to call a proctologist for a cranial extraction. So, if I protect Knox, then I stop Mac from getting the justice he so richly deserves. If I help Mac to bury Knox, then I hurt my own agenda.”

Davison slouches, thinking about his words.

“Man, I’m a real piece of shit. Aren’t I? I know I shouldn’t dwell upon the past. I have to prove who and what I am NOW. I cannot rest on my laurels and coast on past accomplishments. That’s what you would have told me, I’d bet. So, I can’t think about the dynamics during this match, otherwise Jack will pick his spot and steal my championship. Man, wouldn’t that be karma coming full circle?”

Ken stands up and lets out a sigh. He begins nervously pacing back and forth trying to process the thoughts going through his head.

“So, what do I do, babe? Do I help Mac, do I protect Knox?, or do I just say ‘fuck it’ and just try to win the match?”

Ken doesn’t even need to finish his sentence. He knows the answer. He has to go all out to try to win this match. Anything other than that would compromise his scruples. He leans forward and kisses the top of the headstone one more time. 

“Thanks, I needed that.”

A buzzing is heard coming from Ken’s pocket. He looks down at his phone. There is a message from his wife.

“Hey Ken. I have news. I know you’re visiting the family, but this needs to be done in person.”

The car door can be heard quietly closing somewhere in the background. The car slowly pulls away, leaving Holy Family Cemetery behind it.

—---------------------------

“As we all know, people cannot live forever. While many of us thought someone might step forward to defy the odds of humanity, that simply hasn’t happened yet. I can’t remember who said it first, thanks to all those comedians out there recycling each other's jokes, but someone mentioned the fact that we used to cure illnesses like it was our job. Polio, measles, tuberculosis none of these stood a chance when the greatest minds of the world were put to work. So explain why we still have someone wheeling Jerry Lewis out on stage every year for his Jerry’s Kids foundation? Do they even still do that, like some kind of ‘Weekend at Bernie’s’ kind of deal? No? Anyway, you would think that with all the money that old racist bastard raked in you’d think they’d have found a cure for little Billy, right?”

“Sorry, I got a bit off track. The fact remains that this world is run by drug companies all in business to keep us sick, not dying, just enough to stay managed. They do the same thing managing our pain. They give us pills to manage the pain instead of finding a way to eliminate it. It’s like putting a band-aid on a gaping wound; at some point that little adhesive bandage isn’t going to cut it and you’ll need another one, and another one , and another one. Drugs make this great world of our go round, and it’s because of drugs that many of us continue to be able to work. Oh, I’m not talking about heroin and crack, though I do have some concerns when I hear some of the bullshit you hear out of Jack Washington’s mouth. Rather, I’m talking about the kind of painkillers and career extenders that some people need just to get out of bed in the morning. That’s the thing, though. We’re all junkies. Aren’t we? But it’s not the rush of the drugs entering our bloodstreams. No, no, no. It’s the hit of adrenaline we get when the crowd comes alive. It’s the dopamine flowing through our bodies when our hands are raised in victory. That’s our drug. That is what we crave.”

“This business isn’t one that’s easy on the body. Chair shots, falls from a great height and listening to the rambling bullshit that Knox likes to share really take their toll after a while. So the weak turn to drugs, they turn to any means necessary of ignoring that little tap on their shoulder. But I’ve got news for you boys; that little tap, that’s life, wanting to let you know that it's time to give up; time to give up on all the frivolity that you’ve probably grown accustomed to; and for God’s sake it's time to give up the spandex wardrobe. Time waits for no man and no matter how hard you try, you can’t go on ignoring the signs forever. Each day, each match, I am becoming more and more aware of that.”

“Yet, for all the clarity we pretend to be seeing things with on a daily basis, our own mortality continues to be a foggy subject. In this business the possibility of getting hurt is fairly obvious. Each time we step into that ring we run the risk of sustaining anything from a broken finger to a broken neck. We might be out of action for a week, a month or the rest of our lives if we aren’t careful. So we ignore those little nagging injuries. Bruises fade and fractures mend, but as time marches on, those bruises don’t fade as quickly and those broken bones don’t seem to mend the way they used to, Bodies begin to fade, begin to become affected by gravity. Simple diet and exercise, the staples of healthy living, don’t cut it anymore and suddenly the panic sets in. “What if someone sees that I’m not the biggest or fastest anymore?”

“That brings me to my next point, and I promise, it ties in to this. Rebirth. In one's life we are rarely gifted with the opportunity for a second chance. Call it what you will, redemption, reincarnation or rebirth; they all mean the same thing. A fresh start, a clean slate if you will, where the sins and tragedies of your past are wiped from your record as you begin life anew with only the ability to either make whole new decisions, or damn yourself to another life of wasted opportunity. The idea of reincarnation or rebirth is something widely debated among various theologians. Some believe that at the end of this life we have the opportunity to be reborn again to live out and experience the joys and sorrows one more time. The others? Well, they believe that your merits and your actions in this life affect your transcendence into the hereafter where you spend all of eternity basking in the love and oneness with the Lord. But, we need not turn this into a spiritual debate. Not yet anyway.”

“Rarely in life are you given the chance, the opportunity, to start your life over. This doesn’t necessarily mean being reborn as an infant, but falls more under the category of reinventing yourself. We spend all our lives building ourselves up only for others to break us down. Little by little the walls we erect to protect crumble down until what and who we truly are lays open and exposed. Naked and crying for help we can not fathom how we got to this point. Labels and stigmas mar our bodies physically as well as emotionally. Rebirth in this case truly means being given the gift to reinvent who we are. Think of it as a life mulligan , a do-over of epic proportion. To some people this sport is a job; a means of making a living doing something you enjoy. To others it’s more than just their livelihood. This job represents something on a much deeper, more profound level. To some, the idea of giving up the comfort of being the big fish in a little pond is terrifying. Their whole careers have been spent building to this point haven’t they? Becoming so marketable that they’ve transcended merely entertaining; the burdens of the ego maniacs at their best. But for others, to be able to look around the locker room and know that each and every one of those men and women respects them because of their legacy; to them that’s what’s most terrifying to ever relinquish. How do you go from being everything, to being nothing?”

“The big fish can’t thrive in a small pond forever. At some point he’ll need to seek out a bigger stomping ground in order to survive. I was the biggest fish in my pond for a few years; I had the respect, the admiration and the ability to tell management what I wanted knowing I’d get it. Look at where that got me? A reservation on the unemployment line when, what I considered to be, my whole world went belly up. That was almost three years ago. Few men in my position have the ability to learn from the sins of their past and use that knowledge to forge ahead and pave a path to their future. If there’s one thing the Sin City faithful have learned about me at this point, it’s that I’m not like most people. That is why I came to THIS pond. That is why I am here. Welcome to my world; welcome to my clean slate. This is my second world championship reign. This is my rebirth. That is the exact reason why this match is so important to me. That is why I need to block out all of the distractions and, pardon the pun, let the chips fall where they may.”

“Before I go any further, I need to get this out of the way. How dare you disrespect me, Jack! I AM THE SIN CITY WRESTLING WORLD CHAMPION! You are talking as though it's some kind of a foregone conclusion that you're gonna beat me this Sunday - as if I'm some kind of a fluke champion, or a transitional champion! You all can go to hell if you think that! But most importantly, Jack, you can go to hell, too. Because there's something a lot more painful than any beating you can get, Jack, and that is the truth - because the truth hurts and the truth is, yes, you have been the World Champion before. The truth is that the landscape has changed since then. The landscape has changed but you are still the same old Jack Washington. The truth is that the “GKD”, “Godly” Ken Davison is the most overlooked champion in SCW history! But, you want to know what else is the truth, Jack? At Inception, I will STILL be the Champion - because this is my championship, Kendamn it, and this is my show, and… “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Davison interrupts himself and begins using a voice that sounds like a very intentionally bad impression of Jack Washington. “World champion or not, this is not YOUR show. This is Jack Washington’s show! I am the face of the franchise. Blah, blah, blah.”

Davison stops, smirks at the camera, then continues speaking, once again using his normal speaking voice.

“Wah! Wah! My pussy hurts. I know that you’re now sponsored by Midol,” as Ken says that, his picture disappears and a picture of Jack Washington photoshopped onto a box of Midol appears.

“But, quite frankly, I am tired of listening to it. All kidding aside, this isn’t some kind of joke. I am not some kind of joke and you, you stupid son of a bitch, will NOT look past me. Now, as far as Jack Washington saying he’s going to kick my ass… so fucking what? For most people, that would be a big deal. But if you're Ken Davison, that is like waking up, going to bed, eating your breakfast, eating your dinner, it's an everyday thing. I jack my jaw, somebody smacks me around, and we fight about it - that's how I make my living. It happened with Finn Whelan. Now, was it a setback? Yes! Did I do exactly what I said I was going to do and come back and retake what I said was?” Ken taps the front plate of the SCW World Championship. “Obviously, I did.”

“But, what I will tell you is this: Jack Washington has come out here time and time again, telling the fans of Sin City Wrestling that he wants to get stuff off his chest, and how he is the only deserving person in this company and how everyone else either lucky or undeserving or beneath him. You know what? I wanna get something off of my chest. Everyone is asking, why is Ken Davison all of a sudden a 'bad guy'? Why is Ken Davison standing alongside the ever hated Masque de Lune? Well, Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, I'm not gonna lie to ya, “Godly” Ken Davison is doing this because it is a marriage of convenience, as the saying goes. Masque, despite all the things I loathe about her, speaks the truth. She does not need to convince me to listen to her because the lyrics to her melody ring true. The “Godly” Ken Davison that Jack Washington defeated all those months ago was here trying to simply support Mac Bane, trying to earn some respect, and most of all, trying to do things the right way. What happens when the “right way” isn’t working? Well, Jack, what happens is that you defeat “Godly” Ken Davison.”

“So, here we go, one more time. One more match where you and I have some company. It doesn’t matter if this match was just you and I or not. When I defeated you in that fatal four way for the shot at Romano, you sat there and made excuses. You said that I got lucky. You did the exact thing that you do whenever you come up short. You cried, whined, pissed, and moaned about it. Shit, you’re still crying, whining, pissing, and moaning about it. But, that’s the difference between the two of us, isn’t it? You act like a petulant child. When you defeated me, I didn’t make excuses. I called out Knox at first opportunity and the only reason I never got my hands on him was because Mac gave him a title shot. Underwood and company knew that they had to keep us separated and when that whole fiasco was done, Knox “retired,” Ken uses air quotes as he says the last word. “While you sit there and remain stagnant, saying the same things and doing the same things that you always have, I sit here, now a two time Sin City Wrestling World Champion, because I have evolved. That is why I called you out last time. That is why I singled you out and said I needed to hurt you. All those bumps, bruises, and injuries I was talking about add up quickly and I am going to be the man who not only shuts your ass up, but shows you your own mortality.”

“History is full of people like you, Knox. Everybody that will be in the building on Sunday knows somebody like you, Knox. You know, the kind of guy that would stab his brother in the back. You sold out Amber Ryan and regardless of where we may be in our careers, I want to see you suffer for that. Then again, I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t even bother to show up because you have shown time and time again that you are a coward. I hope, for your children’s sake, that your parenting skills are better than your wrestling. I hope that the man you are at home is not the man you are here because, Knox, you committed the most unforgivable sin. You're the scum of this Earth. I guess you decided that since you couldn’t be a shining example to your children, you decided to serve as a horrible warning. I know I doubted whether you’d show up for the match or not, but the more I think about it, the more I realize that the only reason you came back here in the first place is because you can’t afford your child support payments. Even Nick Cannon looks at you and goes “Damn!”

“In the last couple of weeks I've been doing something that up until now one else had the courage to do, which is to tell you all the truth about yourself. Nobody likes to hear about how they are incessantly negative, right? Well, someone needs to tell you. Everyone here is going to point out how much of a coward you are. I’ve done it today and I did it last week, because it is the Kendamned truth. So you guys reacted where just typical behavior of patterns of denial, right; and deflection. I’m sure that you can come up with some kind of false narrative about me, how I can’t beat you or some other bullshit. Well, let me just squash that for you right now. It’s not that I CAN’T beat you. It’s that I haven’t beaten you yet and Inception is my opportunity to do exactly that. That’s why I am telling you what no one else will. Seriously, you couldn’t hack it in Carnage. You knew you were going to get your asswhooped by Mac Bane the second that you lost the element of surprise, so you took your ball and went home. The only reason you are back is because Masque has to have some kind of dirt on you because we all know that you didn’t come back of your own volition.”


“I haven’t forgotten, obviously, that you stole my Internet Championship from me. Jack Washington may have won that match, but you were the one who stole my belt from me. Each and every time I have seen your face in the building, on my television screen, in my memories, it makes my heart burn. That’s part of why I am spending so much time getting ready for this match, both physically and mentally. Of course, I have shown the I didn’t need to be the Internet champion, but I still cannot allow another man to walk into my home and take food off my table. That simply is unacceptable.”

“You think that you’re riding high on the hog because they put you in here? Well, what goes up, must come down. The higher you are, the further you fall. The more it hurts when you hit the ground and anybody, no matter how big the empire they built and how great the legacy they've carved out for themselves, can come crashing down fast and all it takes is one guy with a wild hair up his ass and the balls to take a shot. It happened to Finn Whelen, who won the big one and then suddenly didn’t give a shit. Kind of like what you did, Knox, except he came back. It only took one bullet to kill Abraham Lincoln and when the history books are written they will say Ken Davison was the victim of the same circumstance. That doesn’t mean I am any lesser of a champion. If anything, Knox, I did what you wouldn’t and I came back and took back what was mine. This is what makes me better than you. This is what makes me the apex. This match is going to be your biggest mistake. Mac is going to make you realize just how bad you screwed up. Because that's what you did. First, he's going to break you physically, because he's frigging badass, he's going to break tendon after tendon, bone after bone until you quit. The best part is that I get a front row seat because you know that all this money they're giving Mac… all the sudden it won’t mean dick to him. While he’s distracted, that’s when I get to give Jack Washington the ass whooping I’ve been promising him.”

“Now, we're gonna take the gloves off here. Mac Bane has always been considered better than “Godly” Ken Davison. That’s a fact. Whether he is serving as the white knight or the overseer of the seventh circle of hell, Mac has always been respected for being a straight shooter. If he says there’s and ass whoopin’ coming your way, you can rest assured, there’s an asswhoopin’ coming your way. But I wanna digress for just a moment, when Ken Davison first started his  career and became the Internet champion, that's when Mac Bane was the World champion. I ran support to him, I told everybody including himself and his family that I supported him. I was second fiddle to Mac Bane, not just here, it’s happened in other places as well. Not only did I do it, I did it with a smile on my face, because that's what a man does when it comes to business. But, after a while, it gets hard to stand in the man’s shadow, and believe me, he casts a large shadow.”

“There’s a catch, though. While he says he’s not his brother’s keeper, he is sitting, possibly at this very second, passing judgment on me. I know he doesn’t agree that I am standing with Masque. I know he doesn’t understand why I am doing the things I do. You know, Mac, maybe if you remembered who you used to be and went back to leaving a trail of bodies in the Saviors wake, you wouldn’t be sitting there telling everyone about my faults. Believe me, folks, I have got a metric shit ton of faults. But I've never ever lied to any of you.”

“Now, but the whole time I don't say anything. I go on doing my job. I wanted to be a world champion since I was a little kid. It was a dream. I realize that in this man, Mac feels like he needs this win, too. He needs that validation If Mac Bane isn't the Sin City World champion, he will feel like he has fallen short. When he goes home, he is still Mac Bane. When I go home, I’m not “Godly”. I’m not Ken Davison. I’m just plain ol' Ken, or “asshole” if you ask my wife. He has to be Mac Bane 24 hours a day. And the reason for that is: Mac Bane cannot separate all of this from his real life. He could say the same about me, because I’ve done it. But, I know when the cameras are on that is the time to enter “God Mode.”  Mac Bane has no off switch. If the man has any fault, that is it. That is literally the only Kendamned thing I can think of.”

“Better than anyone else in the history of this business, I know what you are capable of. But, I also know what you are not capable of. Remember, before your championship match where you won the title back from Knox? Remember when you were fueled by that proverbial ruthless aggression? Well, if you had it then you don't have it anymore, because if you did you would have put Jack in the hospital for some of the shit he said. But you didn't. You couldn't do it. Where the hell is the real Mac Bane? Where the fuck is my brother?”

“Mac, I need you to understand something. This Sunday at Inception everything that you have worked so hard for, everything that you have fought so hard for will come crashing down all around you, unless you have put aside your aspirations of glory in favor of blessed retribution. You of all people know that whether or not I hold a championship or not, each and every single time I step in the ring, my business card reads the same: I want to face the best and I want to beat the best. Whether these other guys in the ring admit it or not, they respect me, because they know it. Everybody said it was a bad idea to give Matt Knox a championship match when he couldn’t beat me. Personal feelings aside, all I saw was a man who hadn’t lost. Because I hadn’t proven I was better than him, I gave him a shot. Was it a bad idea? In hindsight, yes.”

“But, that's what being champion is all about, a certain level of respect. It doesn’t matter if it’s Mac Bane, Jack Washington, or even Knox when he’s actually motivated by more than the cost of formula. That when the chips are down, I can be just as brutal as you. So right now, I'm gonna make one more statement. This Sunday will be physical and I have every intention to ensure that it will be brutal. And I will be at my very best. I just hope the four of you are, too.”

[Mac]

SCW World Title Match RP 2 of 2.

“Nobody's taller than the last man standing” - LaMichael James

Intro:

I stood in front of the microphone, I looked like hell, but after so many times of having you face caved in, I really didn’t think it mattered much.

In just a few days, two and a half men will enter a match to decide the next world champion. So, sue me, I’m being honest. Ken and I are the only real men in this match. We give Jack a half-a-man rating, well, because it’s Jack.

I shrug, and think to myself, God I hate that asshole

A fatal four-way match, where the champion has already asked for war, is not a match but a war. But hell, he asked so nicely, and everything that’s what it will be. Two of the three people I face in this encounter are absolute scumbags and I have no qualms about putting them down or at least in their place.

I shake my head and smile again.

They say that no one can stop the reaper when it comes for your soul. We shall see but the truth is the matter is I don’t want any of your souls. There’s only one thing that will do.

I make the belt motion across my abdomen, still with a smile.

Ten pounds of gold is currently in the possession of “Godly” Ken Davison. The current, reigning, and defending World Champion.

Leaning on the podium in front of me, my expression softens slightly

Years from now people will say that they came to watch a wrestling match, but what they got was one of the bloodiest affairs they’d ever seen in their lives. Where that title is concerned, and my friend already knows this, I will not have any remorse or regrets when it comes to who gets hurt.

I feel my expression harden as I ease up on the podium and stand more to my full height.

Only one can lift that belt and I plan on being that person because no one stands taller than the last man standing.

I run my thumb across my throat.

No retreat, no surrender, and no survivors.



“The Aftermath”

Looking outside of the offices of Jeff Castello, I see the trees move ever so slightly, bending every once in a while as the breeze increases. The back-and-forth sway of the trees reminds me very much of Vivian’s life in the past few months. She and Grey have been through a lot recently. Someone from her past had come looking to end her life because of the choices they made. We had spent the day, reviewing how they would protect her and Grey, and Krayon of course. After that harrowing experience, they needed time and space to heal. Watching them as a couple, it was easy to see that Grey was her rock. They interacted with such love and compassion for one another. The verification process of a new identity and home somewhere was the important part I thought as I stared at my own reflection in the window of Jeff’s office. I scrubbed my face with my hands, God I looked like shit right now. In just a few days, I’d be trying to win the world title from Ken or whoever I could beat down and pin. It didn’t have to be him after all, and that made me smile. My thoughts were interrupted by Jeff, “Hey, let’s go get some coffee and have a smoke,” he said, bringing me back to the present.

Scratching the back of my head, I give a sheepish smile, “Yeah, a good stretch of the legs wouldn’t hurt.” On the way to the door, I stopped and scratched Krayon behind the ears he whined softly and I touched Vivian lightly on the shoulder. I stood back up and met Jeff at the door. We headed out into the lobby and walked through the twisting and turning hallway to the elevator. I flashed my id to the Marines posted there and they let us both pass into the elevator. We were on the thirty-fifth floor so we had time to talk. He looked in my direction, and the look was one of concern. “Mac, what’s going through your head right now? I’ve seen that look a hundred times.” I shrugged in return, “just the face I was born with,” I said in my most innocent voice. He nudged me with his elbow, “Every time I see that look, I know you’re about to do something reckless, and probably life-threatening.”  I knew what he was talking about but I shrugged it off. “Please tell me you’re not going after the men that tried to kill Viv.” I nodded at the statement, “No, that’s not why…it has nothing to do with your case. This,” I point to my face, “Is because of the match I have coming up. Two of the three men in that match, I despise. With all the shit that Amber’s been through? I’m out for blood this time, Chief.”

After some time, we reached the lobby. The lobby at this particular office was very nondescript, it was so boring it made a wrestling changing room seem lavish. As we approached the coffee bar, I asked, “So, what’s next for Vivian and Grey?” He looked disappointed that I had asked the question. “That’s bad news for you, especially. It’s a big part of the witness protection program that a lot of people never even consider.” I nodded, I knew it was coming but I was hoping it wouldn’t. “So, that means no contact with family and friends,” I said, it wasn’t a question, I was just seeking verification of my own fear. Quietly he said, “Afraid so.” I could hear the sadness in his voice. I clapped him on the shoulder, “She’ll be fine, hoss, don’t worry about that.” He looked up and smiled, “I know, I was worried how you might take that news. I know you guys have been close for a long time.” I nodded, “I may be sad about it later, but it’s no good for her to hear it or for Grey to see it.” We got our coffee and stopped by the station with creamer and sugar. That’s when I zipped my jacket up, it was cold as hell outside. Or maybe that was just my soul turning a little bit blacker. It was getting really hard to tell these days.

“I’m guessing this is where we part company for a while?” He shook his head, “Not really, I do need a smoke, by the time we are done here, they will be on their way to a new life.” I laughed, “You didn’t have to try to deceive me, Jeff.” He shook his head, “No deception, you know the protocol.” Indeed I did, I’ve done many of these over the years with Jeff, but this was the first one that was so personal. I knew I should not have contacted him for this, but damnit we both had personal ties to Vivian and Grey. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop with Jeff. So far it hadn’t.

He finished making his coffee turn colors and we stepped out into the cold Maryland night. I lit my cigarette with my zippo and he did with his as well. “Mac, do you ever regret leaving the service?” I nodded, “Sometimes, my life would have been very different if I had stayed. I would have most likely ended up dead, to be honest, so there’s that.” He chuckled, “Because of Spaz,” he asked. “Between him, his goon squad, and being so wreckless.” He smiled, “Well that is one thing you no longer have to worry about. You know that holding area under the pentagon?” I smiled in return, “The one that acts like a faraday cage?” He laughed, “yes that one, no comms in or out. You couldn’t buy a cell signal in that joint with a fist full of fifties.” I nodded, “yeah, I get that. That’s where he’s being held?” He shrugged, “I can neither confirm nor deny that question” I barked a laugh, “I understand, senator.” He shook his head. Taking another long drag of my smoke and exhaling slowly, the awkward silence continued. “Something on your mind, Jeff.” He nodded, “You remember, Gomez?” “Yeah, the war criminal that we allowed to retire instead of facing a firing squad as he should have.” He nodded solemnly, “One of our many mistakes. I’m hearing rumors that someone is trying to release all the skeletons in his closet. If it was anyone else I wouldn’t care, but his skeletons would impact a lot of people.” I nodded in recognition of the threat. It didn’t affect me personally but it was a national security issue that Jeff would have to deal with.

“Wet work?” I asked him and he nodded again. “I’ll send the information over by courier in a few days.” We shook hands as we parted company and I headed out for the next stop.



Once again in front of a microphone and preparing to talk about my least favorite subject. A guy who makes other scumbags look saintly. A guy with no redeeming qualities. Makes Knox look like a decent human.

Oh, I think I'll start with you, Jack. I get it, in your world, King Jack decides who the worthy are. Who should hold the title and who shouldn’t even be considered a contender? Welcome to reality Wash. This ain’t Philly or Kansas. It’s the real world where words don’t win you matches. Thinly veiled insults and accusations don’t mean shit in this reality. What does matter is that we will compete in a fatal four-way match to determine who’s the best of the best in this company? Are you following along or do I need to get out the construction paper and the crayons? Okay, crayons it is then.

I reach under the podium and grab a piece of construction paper and a box of crayons and set them on the podium. I start with the purple crayon and continue speaking.

I’ve heard you call yourself confident so often. I think you spelled narcissist wrong. The funny thing about those kinds of people, they crave power and authority but sadly have the accountability of a toddler. You’re a megalomaniac at best and just a shit-talking punk at worst. A man who truly believes he’s the best on the stick of any of us. That’s funny, you’re good at it but hardly the best. 10 years in SCW? Yeah, I get that, you’re proud of the only place you’ve ever been. You’d rather be a big fish in a small pond than ever dream of competing where the competition is too big for you. You talk about how you’ve been overlooked, as evidence you’ve tied the lack of your picture not being on the main page. As for why you haven’t gotten your shot before now? Well, maybe it’s because the last time you had it, your reign made you look like you were competing in amateur hour. So poor little Jack Washington feels neglected and abandoned, don’t yall understand? Jack, we all know you’re an attention seeker, so go buy yourself a fucking puppy and sit down.

I stop drawing momentarily, eyeballing my work I smile.

You believe you are the only one in this match who deserves to hold that title. You are wrong, but let’s pretend for a moment that you’re right. What would that look like? Let’s see, you don’t do appearances for the company as it is, would that change to make you look more legit as a champion? Nah, you’re too busy running a casino, I’ve been to it, nice place. It looks like you’ve got people to help keep things running smoothly. I always suspected that you had some business acumen, that’s one thing at least you’ve proved me right on. I thought for a long time that you were a smart man until I saw your promo.

I put the purple crayon back in the box and withdraw the black one and begin working on my masterpiece.

What did you call Amber? My girlfriend? You know good and damn well that she’s my wife, you know the woman that held the bombshell longer than anyone in the history of this company.

I stop drawing and hold up the black crayon and wag it as I think about what to say next.

That’s funny.

I continue to draw and talk, getting more and more amused with my drawing.

You were right about the fact that I couldn’t protect her, I couldn’t protect her. She made a decision, funny they do that sometimes. They make decisions all on their own. I don’t protect her because she doesn’t need my protection. I assume that it’s the same in your family. Don’t you have a younger brother? I’m sure that he’s made choices that you didn’t agree with but you didn’t protect him from his choices? I’m sure you do understand that. Maybe not though, maybe you don’t give a fuck about anyone but yourself.

I shrug in indifference and then placing the black crayon back in the box, I withdraw the red one.

Your assertion that no one could fill your shoes, is true. That’s because no one wants to. You are the epitome of what most people never aspire to be. To be straight with you, I think you’re a fucking poser and a fraud. Sure, you beat me, and Fenris as well. The difference is that when we lose, we learn something from that. By the way, it is bragging regardless of if you can back it up, it makes you look like a putz. You might consider doing it a different way.  Another great point, yes, I’ve lost my fair share of matches here but I never ran away and I never duck anyone who wants to fight.

Now finished with the red one, I put it back into the box and close the lid. I don’t reveal what the drawing is quite yet though.

Good thing this isn’t social media, Jack. The fact checkers would have a field day with your bull shit. The Saviors are alive and well and I’m still very much a part of it. When we decide someone has to go, we do it our way. Take Supreme Machine for example. After he challenged me for the world title, I sent him home with his tail between his legs. When I beat Alex Jones, he fucking retired. Mark Cross? He left when I beat him for the title. I’m sure you remember Mark, the same guy that beat you for the title. Not only beat you but embarrassed you live on pay-per-view. It was glorious watching him work. Another footnote to my time in SCW is the fact that I’ve beaten the men that beat you previously. Like when Goth took the internet title from you. Mark Cross and Alex Jones, did the same thing.

With my masterpiece done, I take a cigarette out and light it with my zippo. The inscription on it reads, “Toe Tags and Body Bags.” Amber had given this to me as a wedding gift. I smile as I remember the day fondly. Toe tags and body bags were exactly what I envisioned for this match.

Yet, my time in this company is uneventful, is it?

I shake my head again in indifference to his opinion of my body of work. Some people's opinions simply didn’t matter. 

We look at the world through different lenses, and mine aren’t rose-colored. I see clearly, now more than ever. Ken and I have no issues with one another. You could say that I’ll help him make sure that you don’t walk out of the arena with that title. You are quite simply the least deserving competitor of a title reign that I’ve ever seen. Wanna act like the world, business and company owe you something? You’re dumber than you look if you believe that. You’re not the guy who put this company on his back the last two years. What have you ever done to help this company thrive? How much talent have you recruited to make sure this company continues to thrive? How have you even promoted this company, whether it be through interviews or special appearances? Any? If you do, name them. I’ve never seen you lift a finger to help anyone but yourself.

I start to show the picture, but I remembered a couple of things that had to be said.

My world title wins have been far from random, but living in the past is not what I do. You’re apt at calling others out for their pasts but never owning your own mistakes. As I said earlier, you have the accountability of a toddler. The first time you beat me, I was the world champion then. I said then that I didn’t care about that match with you because at that time it was true. You didn’t get rewarded for it then. I guess that’s one less stepping stone you can lay claim to, huh? The last time, you beat me, no excuses or deflection from me. You got me, beating me wasn’t what got you this match. Management must have had some sympathy for you because you’re such a whiny bitch.

I smile, amused with my opinions and thoughts being expressed in this way.

Regardless of how you got into this match for the title, you won’t be leaving with it, Jack. The only way you're leaving this match is on a stretcher, toe tag is optional.

Before leaving the area, I lift the construction paper up off the podium, then I present it to the audience at home.

Rest In Peace
Dumbass!

I leave it behind on the podium, laughing as I exit the room.

The cool breeze cut through the area like a knife through butter. It carried with it the light scent of pine and a faint stinging sensation to exposed skin. I breathed it in deeply, I loved the winter months. It very rarely got this cold in Port Arthur but I loved it when I did. I had thought about Vivian and Grey often over the last few days, and about what the wet work might be this time. I knew who it was about but not what it was about. This was a part of my life I had yet to share with Amber, I needed to make sure I did that soon. She was back in Vegas right now, while I was attending to some things on the ranch. Those things had to do with cougars hunting on our land, and killing and eating our calves. Off to the right of me, I could hear movement. I doubted it was one of the cats since I was sitting on my front porch. Plus, I wouldn’t have heard them if it was. I took another long drink of coffee from my Contigo branded coffee cup. Loved these damn things, keeps coffee hot. “Hey Mac, came the call from that direction. My foreman, Jimbo was not exactly subtle or quiet which suited me just fine. I yelled back, “Same place as last time,” I said in a flippant and sarcastic nature. He came up on the porch and sat down in a chair not far away. “We got problems, Chief. There’s more than one big cat out there.” My eyebrows shot up and I almost snorted my coffee through my nose.

“Fuck me,” I said quietly. “Yeah, we spotted 3 different ones, all males.” if you know anything about male cats, they don’t co-exist well together, and there would eventually be a dispute over territory. There was also a female cougar living on the land but she rarely ever came after the cattle. “You boys, got the tranqs and cages to transport them?” He nodded, “We do, everything is all set to go.” I lit another cigarette and the acrid smell drifted up around my face. “Alright, Let’s get started then. We’ll use four-wheelers instead of horses.  The last thing I want is to have one come up lame.” He smiled that crooked, Han Solo-style smile at me, “Way ahead of you boss, gassed up and ready to go” I laughed lightly, “That’s the reason I pay you the big bucks, Jimbo.” We headed to a barn, just to the right of the house, the four and three-wheelers were kept there. They were loaded out with water, rifles, and jerky. All are strapped into the driver-side storage. We cranked ‘em up and headed out to the last known location. When we arrived at that spot, I could clearly see the tracks, these boys were not small. At least based on the depth of the impression their paws made. I scanned the area but there was no sign of them, not that I could tell. It was approaching sundown, so we had to be careful.

I sat on the seat of the four-wheeler, chewing on a piece of jerky and I heard that first shot ring out nearby. “I missed and he’s headed your way Jimbo,” was the call over the radio. “Shit,” I said as I saw Jimbo duck down. The cougar flew right over the top of him, but Jimbo was a small wiry man, and quick as a proverbial cat. He spun around and took aim, he squeezed the trigger and the big cat dropped on its side. It tried to rise several times but then the medicine kicked in and it was sleeping in a matter of seconds. I picked up the radio, “One down, we’ll need help loading this big fella into the cage for transport.” After a few moments, “On our way.” I felt the four-wheeler rock a bit and thought it must have been me shifting to my position at first. That was when I could feel hot breath on the back of my neck. I knew I had to act because I knew there was another one right behind me. Without hesitating I dove out of the four-wheeler and Jimbo was right there to put the second one to sleep with a single shot. “That was a bit closer than I’d like to experience again,” I said breathlessly. He smiled as he helped me up, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything sneak up on you, are you okay?” I dusted myself off and smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I’m good, a bit distracted by other things but I’m okay.”

The other team rolled in at that time and began helping Jimbo load both cats, we could hear a shot off in the distance.

To be continued.


Rest In Peace
Dumbass!


Matthew has been very quiet, it’s almost like he’s retired again or has decided he’s not up for another fight with me. He couldn’t beat Washington or Ken, so what did he do instead? He pulled the ropes away from Ken, forcing him to tap out to Jack when Ken held the internet title. Do you even recall why I did everything but end your career when we were in the ring last? I know I haven’t forgotten the man that tried to destroy my life. My career didn’t mean shit to me, but to take advantage of another man's wife is the lowest of the low. The amount of mental anguish that I suffered when I started hearing things is probably something you cannot fathom. Yet here you are back again, and back into the fold with Masque. I mean, I shouldn’t care, right? Having given you everything you needed to move on. Documentation to get you out of harm's way and Masque. I forgave you when you were present and Masque tried to kill my wife and you did nothing. You did nothing to try and help her, you stood there like it was nothing to you. Like she meant nothing to you. Was it just another attempted conquest of a woman you didn’t deserve?

I shake my head in disgust, I always felt this way when I spoke about him. I just cannot fathom someone with absolutely no morals. It breaks my brain to even consider what happened to him to make him this way.

You always called Amber your friend, but I sensed nothing that even remotely resembled that. I don’t think you even know anymore. I tried so hard to try to be your friend. All I got in return was a handful of nothing. If you were to ask her, she would shrug off her injuries as if they don’t matter. She knows, in great detail, what you did and didn’t do. She’s a much gentler soul than I am, I don’t forget and I won’t forgive you again. The only thing left is your destruction. We had a death match, not so long ago, didn’t we? At the end of that, I stood over you, do you remember? The things I did to you in that match have likely never been done to you before in a match. The methods I used were those that I’ve learned throughout a very long career. I felt no remorse for those things. I felt justified in everything I’ve done to this point. I’ll continue to feel that way until you are out of this business for good.

I could feel the bile rising in my throat, I hated this topic almost as much as I hated him. To me, that was hard to believe.

Every strike, punch, kick, slam, or whatever I deliver to you will be meant to make you beg. To make you beg for me to stop, to tap out, to just fucking give up. Now I hear that Ken wants to do this the old-school way. I would call it the carnage way but for me, that’s not true. It's the way that I broke into this business. I hope you are all ready for anything to go. This ain't for the weak of heart or like Knox, those of no spine.

I scrubbed my face and shook my head.

I just can’t even with this shit right now.

I stayed there for just a moment, feeling like I might throw up but then swallowed it back down and headed to the door leading out of the studio.


Continuing from the previous section…

The shot had rung out from farther to the south. These big boys were caged and being loaded for transport. A ranger there, Sue McCalister was supervising the whole show, she nodded at me. “Perfect execution, never seen the likes of it really. Most ranches just shoot these animals and we never know about it.” A grim smile came over my face, “I kill for only two reasons, to protect my family and to eat.” She gave me a smile, “That’s a very honorable philosophy.” Before I could respond, I felt a hand on my shoulder, “They got the third big male, Mac.” I looked at Jimbo, “Okay, let’s go help the get loaded up and we can call it a night. Booze is on me.” I look back at the ranger but she was already on her machine and headed to the other site. “That’s more like it! You heard the man, let’s get this shit wrapped up and go get drunk!” It didn’t take long to get to the other site that they had scouted out. The scene was much like I expected, the cat was sleeping and they were loading him into the cage. Sue,” three for three, I’m impressed. We’ll have a doc check them over when we get them into town to make sure they’re okay.” I nodded, “please let me know once the exams are done. If we can improve the process we’ll certainly do that.” She didn’t respond, she just waved her goodbye and get back into her vehicle.

One of the ranch hands approached slowly, he was actually wringing his hands, like he was scared. Must have been being out here hunting the big cats. His name was Francisco, last summer he finished getting his citizenship, a very proud moment for us all. “Mr. Bane?” He looked terrified, so I let him take his time. “Yes Franciso, my goodness my man, why are you so nervous?” He takes a big breath and exhales slowly, “Can I be excused from this night of drinking?” I looked at him, I started to verbally dress him down but I caught something in his look. “That’s no problem at all.” He smiled and allowed a sigh of relief escaped him. “Thank you, boss. I really appreciate it.” I heard Jimbo clear his throat, “Francisco, do you want to tell him why?” He immediately looked down in shame. Francisco had always been one of our avid partygoers but something had happened recently. He had pain in his stomach and had to go to the doctor recently. “Take your time, no rush.” He sighed again, “I told you I would Jimbo,” he said giving his foreman side-eye. “Mr. Bane, I have what they call acute recurring pancreatitis.” I nodded, “What did the doc tell you?” He took a deep breath, “He says that I shouldn’t eat red meat and starchy foods anymore. No alcohol of any kind, either. What did I do to deserve this hell?”

I gave the man a rough embrace, “It’s not karma my man, it’s a disease, one that you can partially control.” He hugged me back and was trying so very hard not to cry. To be honest so was I. These men and women that worked for me were a part of my extended family and when they hurt, I hurt. “Francisco, It’s going to be okay my friend. I know this disease all too well. You remember my grandmother, Rita, yah?” I knew he would considering she used to feed most of these boys just about every day. “I miss her, she was the fucking best.” I nodded, “Yes she was, and she had a more serious form of this disease, it was a complication of her diabetes. They called her Chronic Pancreatitis.” He nodded sagely and then panic set in, “Am…am…ami gonna die?” I put my arm around his shoulder and squeezed him in close. “Dude, we all day some day. What you have isn’t treatable, but you can control how bad it gets. Listen to your doctor.” He nodded again and I could see the pain in his eyes. The rest of the hands had all headed back to the main house now and it was just the three of us. “Take some time off, Francisco.” He started to protest but I cut him off. “Paid time off my friend. Use the time for whatever you want to do, whether it’s your own research about this or just laying by a pool somewhere warm. Take care of yourself, my friend. The job and the work will still be here when you get back.” He gave me a quick hug in thanks and I smiled. “Take all the time you need.”



The call for carnage has been issued, I’m probably the only person that will answer that call. Just like you did for me. Together we have forever changed the landscape of this company. For reasons of my own, I didn’t want to be a part of this match, I felt like Goth should have gotten the nod instead of me. I did still have this rematch clause that I had no intention of using.

I look at the camera, and the disgust is obvious. Whether it’s because of talking about Knox previously or about the current subject of this conversation is unknown, even to me.

But, here we are old man. Just like the old days, isn’t it? I would say it was a coincidence that we keep finding ourselves standing across the ring from each other but we know that’s not true.

I speak my arms out and smile.

We simply are the main event. People like Jack and others won’t like that one bit, but people like us don’t care what they think. So, a fatal four-way for the title, Brother. It’s already a no-DQ match, and you want to raise the level of intensity.

With a smile and a wink I continue.

I’m good with that.

I hold my head in my right hand, the thinker's position, and I continue to talk about the past. Our history is important.

I, too, remember that match you talked about. The difference is, we are much different people than we were then. Back then, I was this brash kid who had no fear or respect for anything or anyone. That match changed my perspective, not because I lost but because I encountered a true peer. Since then, you’ve found what I always hoped you would. Someone who loves you unconditionally. There I go getting all sappy again.

I straighten my face from the fond memory of his and Kyra’s wedding and come back to the tas at hand.

That was where this all began, that match set a bar in that place that they would never be able to duplicate, no matter how hard they tried. It’s where we won each other's respect. More important to me, was the friendship that followed. A brotherhood that would cross two decades.

I give a slight bow with my hands in front of me, a kind of namaste gesture if you will.

Our mantra has always been, “Brothers to the bone, never ride alone.” For me, that will never change. My only concern right now is about how you have an allegiance of some sort with Masque. I think she holds some influence over you and is in your ear and your head. It’s what she does. I’ve always considered you the master manipulator until I encountered her.

I allow my expression to soften, I need to make sure that he understands that my concern is legit and I don’t want that for him.

That’s a real problem right there. It’s like you either didn’t consider what that cunt put my family through, or you just don’t care about what she did to Amber. Do you feel like she’s some kind of kindred spirit from when you were younger? You’re seeking the help of some sort, and I get it, the people you love can’t help you breathe. Any of us would have helped if you had just asked.

It’s sad really, but I digress.

Although I’m still sad about that situation, I let it go and I’m back to business.

The first time we met for a world title, it was a time that you had every advantage. You had outsmarted me in every way. I’ll never use it as an excuse, just pointing out the obvious. It’s tough to defend a belt when you are distracted. You knew this and used it against me. You’ve always been an opportunist, what was even stranger was the fact that I wasn’t even mad.

I shrug and smile as if to say, what can I possibly say to that?

It’s not that strange, probably because I would have done the same thing. We both know it to be true so it’s not some great revelation.

Taking on a more serious expression, with my lips pursed and my eyebrows furrowed.

This match will be chaotic, to put it mildly. As for the soft spot in your heart for me? You’d better find some fucking cement and cover that shit up. I didn’t want to do it this way, but it appears as if I have no choice. The last time we played with kid gloves, those will be off for this match. Not because of anything that you’ve done but because of the other players involved. So when that bell rings you’d better be ready to fight.

Balling my fists up, I continue to talk about this match and its consequences.

I’m always ready to fight, brother, but I’m not telling you anything you didn’t already know. Every day of my life, I’ve chosen violence, and this will be no different. That ten pounds of gold you carry has belonged to me on three separate occasions.

I don’t pause, I just continue to plow on thru what I need to say.

It’s time for it to return home.

The shitty thing is that no one has to pin you to take that title from you. The match design itself is great because it takes away the champion's advantage. What it does is stack the deck against the champion. I know you know all of this but you need to be hyper-aware of that fact. I’m not saying these things to insult your intelligence, they are just reminders from a friend.

Any thoughts of regret or remorse vanish more quickly than they might have appeared.

Here is the really bad news, old friend.

We both know that Knox is a non-entity in this match, he will play no role in the decision. Jack Washington spends too much time in front of a mirror telling himself and anyone who’ll listen how great he is.

That!

Brings everything down to you and me.

My gaze is relentless, my focus is razor-sharp.

As it should be because that’s the way it’s always been. I harbor you no ill will, despite the petty jealousy and your opportunistic nature. Know this brother, I love you and I hope you’ll be able to forgive me when I take my title back.

I hope we will always be able to call each other brother.

Fade

[Jack Washington]

Prologue:

Jack is not on full go mode as he heads into his big championship match at Inception. Jack remains supremely confident like always, but even he understands he cannot overlook any of his opponents and is preparing for one last volley to trash talk, and he will lay all his cards on the table heading into Inception.

Outside the ring, Jack got a little bit of closure on the death of his older brother Josh, from his uncle Brian. And at the new year’s ball drop, Jack and Jason talked about the future and what could come from it and the steps they had to take, while also reflecting on the past and how they got there. But more than anything enjoying the moment of being a family, despite there not being a lot of it left.

 

--

U-Part Auto Salvage

North Las Vegas, NV

 

Jack, Jason, and Brian are all here, wandering around the salvage yard. Jason doesn’t seem too interested in this, and Jack more of a passing fancy, but they aren’t here for themselves. They are here for Brian, who is looking around at all the junked cars.

 

Brian: You’re seriously going to let me do this?

 

Jack: It’s your birthday, so yes.

 

Jason: But this is a lot of junk. There’s broken cars as far as you can see.

 

Brian: That’s what you see, son. But what’s really here in endless possibilities.

 

Jason: Or, it’s junk. 

 

Jack: Take it easy, We worked Brian a lot since he came out here with us. I think he’s earned this. 

 

Brian: I deserve a lot more than this, but I’ll take it.

 

The three continue to walk around until they come across a car that makes Brian stop in his tracks.

 

Brian: There she is boys...

 

Brian is standing in front of a car, that is mostly intact just by looking at it, except the windshield is cracked and the body is rusted. The owner of the salvage yard pops appears from behind a container with a smile on his face.

 

Jack: You must be Paul.

 

Paul: That’s me. I see you looking at this ‘69. 

 

Brian: She looks like she could use some restoring.

 

Paul: It’ll be a project, but I tell ya what, it’s not as bad as it looks.

 

Jason: It doesn’t look good anyway.

 

Brian: Ignore him. He doesn’t see the beauty here.

 

Paul: This one came in from California. It’s a good dry car. These are great builders. This doesn’t have an engine or transmission, but it’s a good, solid body. I mean, it’s 1969 Plymouth Roadrunner. And it’s a good solid color.

 

Brian: I see it. I see. 

 

Paul: You’ve got good floors, good trunk, good quarter panels.

 

Brian: I must say, that’s not bad. And from Cali, that means no salt rot.

 

Paul: No sir.

 

Jason walks over to Jack and leans in and whispers.

 

Jason: What the hell are they talking about?

 

Jack: Car stuff, I don’t know everything either. Let them have their fun.

 

Brian: It’s missing a few pieces. Gonna need a new grille, some other trim, a windshield.

 

Paul: Well, that’s why you come to a salvage yard, right?

 

Brian: What do you say we go on a little scavanger hunt?

 

Paul: Sounds like a plan.

 

Paul and Brian head off to look for used parts and Jack and Jason are left looking at the piles of broken cars.

 

Jason: I don’t get it, bro. All this stuff is just broke ass car parts.

 

Jack: I know, but if you get some people that are dedicated, you know, you can do stuff like this and restore cars. You know that’s what Brian always wanted to do.

 

Jason: I didn’t realize how much junk we’d have to sift through. I don’t know if it’s worth it.

 

Jack: Brian’s.... Brian has been invaluable to us, Jay. He really has. I don’t know if we’d still both be here if he wasn’t around. I know I wouldn’t. And maybe you wouldn’t either. Maybe you’d be somewhere else far away from all this shit. I’m just saying that this could be much worse and Brian... he’s helped us through all this bullshit.

 

Jason: Yeah, I guess. You think about what we talked about though?

 

Jack: I don’t know Jay, We barely survived a war. We don’t have people like that. We still have people looking for us, and they could be back at any time. Starting another fight isn’t the smartest move.

 

Jason: But the longer we wait, we’re just sitting ducks. We have to do something.

 

Jack: No Jay, we don’t. We don’t have to do anything. We’re good right now.

 

Jason: But we can take that old man out of the picture, and then his guys become our guys. And then what? The Mexicans can come back and we’ll take them out. If we move, we can do this. 

 

Jack: I’m not worried about that right now. I’m worried about the here and now. We’ll get to that, when we get there. Just... trust me on this, Jay. Okay? 

 

Jason: Yeah... but you know we need to.

 

Jack: Jay... not now.

 

--

Washington Estate

Las Vegas, NV.

 

In the garage, having gotten the ‘69 Roadrunner delivered, Brian looks very pleased with what’s in front of him, and Jack and Jason are happy for him.

 

Brian: Boys, I gotta say you’ve outdone yourselves. This is going to be great.

 

Brian opens the car door to the destroyed interior. The seats are ripped, the inside is rusted and the vinyl is ripped and cracked. Brian doesn’t seem worried in the slightest.

 

Brian: Yes sir, this is going to be something.

 

Jack: You really think you’re going to be able to restore this?

 

Brian: Oh absolutely. Now we’re gonna have to take out these seats, it needs some door panels, floor mats and stuff, but, really, once we get it all stripped down and get our hands dirty, it’ll be all worth it.

 

Jack: Who is “We”?

 

Brian: I’m just speaking generally. But if you want to help, I’d be more than happy to have some.

 

Jack: Jay can help. And he can learn a thing or two.

 

Jason: What? Nah, I’m good.

 

Jack: It’ll be good for you.

 

Brian: Don’t worry son, you won’t have to do anything difficult. I want to restore this car not destroy it altogether.

 

Jason: I’ll pass.

 

Brian: Suit yourself. But oh yeah, we’re gonna need a lift in here.

 

Jack: What if I just get you a garage altogether?

 

Brian: I mean, I can do it here, you just need to get a lift. I have to lift the car up to take all this stuff off of it.

 

Jack: I’ll see what I can do.

 

Brian: Trust me, when I get this thing the way it should be, there won’t be any stopping it. She’s gonna fly.

 

Brian starts touching the car, wiping it down even in the rust spots.

 

Brian: Yeah... gonna fly. 

 

Brian stops, and clears his throat.

 

Brian: Well, if you all want to help, I’m gonna take these seats out. If not uh... I guess I’ll get started.

 

Jack: I have a match to prepare for. Gonna let these bums know what time it is.

 

Brian: You do that, Stick.

 

Jason: … I... I guess I can help.

 

Brian smirks.

 

Brian: Trust me son, it’ll be worth it.  Possibilities are endless.

 

Jason: If you say so.

 

 Brian: It’s all good. Now, go put some gloves on.

 

Jack: I’ll leave you two car lovers to it. I have a lot of things to do.

 

Jack starts to walk away as Jason exits to find gloves.

 

Brian: Stick...

 

Jack: Yeah?

 

Brian: I uh... I didn’t say it but... Thank you.

 

Jack: Yeah.

 

--

On Camera:

 

Click.

 

 

Jack sits in his chair, looking at his watch as he begins.

 

Jack: The time is drawing near, people. It’s the day that Mac Bane, Matt Knox, and especially Ken Davison have been dreading. Hell, it’s a day SCW has been dreading. They haven’t wanted me as the champion, and despite all odds, despite them trying to make people forget about me, I have risen above everything. I have overcome all adversity and this Sunday is my crowning moment. Sunday is where I take my title back, and take my rightful place at the top of the mountain in SCW. 

You may be thinking why are you so confident, you have three opponents, and you aren’t even in the champion? Well, I am simply the uncrowned champion. I am the only one who earned this. Matt Knox hasn’t, Mac Bane hasn’t, and Ken is simply here because of a fluke. You may not like to hear those words, but they are the truth. That’s what I specialize in. I may be an asshole, I may be a prick, but I’m not living in some delusional world. I am the one person who tells you the truth, no matter what.

You can look at my track record in 2022, I lost what? Two matches. One to Goth after like the 8th time and I was kind of feeling sorry for the old man, and the other when Finn Whalen got one over on me. That was it, the rest of the time, I was smashing people left and right. And I won the Internet championship and damn near set the record for the longest reign and most defenses. And did I get a reward for that? No. Of course not. I got sent away, given a vacation so that I could be forgotten about and they hoped I wouldn’t remember that. Hoping that I would get tired of this and go away. 

But I’m not going anywhere.

In fact, I intend to make it worse than ever for people once this championship win is mine. Once Inception is over, there’s going to be a long, long time of me reminding each and every one of you haters that doubted me. That said I wasn’t what I said I was. Because even know I know you’re out there. And each and every time I come through, more of you have to eat crow and realize that I’m right. I am exactly what I say I am. And it makes you hate me even more. But the truth is, you know I’m right. And it’s going to be so much fun to stick it to all of you one more time. 

That’s what you all have to look forward to. I hope you are ready. Because I am tired of being disrespected like I haven’t done anything here. I rose to the very top of this company in less than a year. I went straight to the top, and I came through. Who the hell else can say that? I’m on the shortest of short lists around here. Can my opponents say the same? No. I am the future of this company, and you all know it, and so do my opponents.

 

Jack is deadly serious, going over his opponents again.

 

Jack: I mean, obviously Matt Knox understood what was going on and he took it to heart that he has no business here. He knows it, and it’s the truth. I told him as much. And now, once again, he’s been nowhere to be found. He’s a fucking ghost around these parts. This spot could have gone to literally anybody else, and they would have made more effort than this old man. It’s absurd that he’s here. He has no right, and no business here, and you know, I think he should be fired to failing to deliver. But then again, SCW should have buyer’s remorse for even hiring him back. All this man did was TARNISH everything he was a part of. I’m not saying anything anybody doesn’t already know, but my god this match is a waste of space.

You may not like what I’m saying, but you know it’s the truth. Matt Knox is washed, he’s given you nothing in return for signing his name to a contract. He is STEALING from you. Every single person who pays their money to see this, and this man is doing his best casper imitation. Matt Knox should be ashamed of himself.

Or... on the other hand, maybe Matt Knox should be commended. 

Hold on, hear me out on this. Maybe the man should be commended for actually understanding that he is not going to have a shot in hell of winning, so why fucking bother even trying? Why fight what he knows to be the truth? Maybe he’s smarter than he looks. Which isn’t saying much, but fact is, maybe he’s smarter than the other two by not trying to get in my way. Maybe he’s seen the light or something. Either way, it really makes no difference to me. Matt Knox not giving a shit simply makes my job easier. It makes this task all the more simple. I’ve already kicked the Cowboy’s ass, and I’ve kicked Ken Davison’s ass so, I think the man has simply accepted the reality. 

Matt Knox is of the old guard. The old way of life. The old school and that bullshit. But he’s not that stupid to think that change hasn’t come for him. Times change and people change. The names and faces change. And Matt Knox knows that his time came and went. He got a little last hurrah last year, and now, that’s all over. Everyone here is done humoring him and playing nice. It’s just seems funny to me that the man talked all this game for so long and both times he and I have been in the same ring, he gets super quiet. 

Well, now, there’s no more reason for him to talk, no reason for him to open his mouth anymore. At Inception he’s just going to bear witness to history. Because he knows he can’t fight the future.

 

Jack sighs as he continues.

 

Jack: What more can really be said, Cowboy? You’ve been riding a wave of meh for so long that it’s not even worth it to insult you. I partially don’t even blame you. You were a victim of hype from people who thought you were better than you are. They put all this hype and faith behind you while I was away and they wanted you, to be what I am. Though let’s just face it Cowboy, you aren’t me. And hey, you can be happy about that. You can be who you are now. A mediocre act. 

You won the SCW world title three times, and nobody remembers any of them. They were all about what your girlfriend was doing, not you. You had to take a backseat, and then they tried again and again to make you something, anything that people could latch onto. And nobody bit the line, cowboy. The fish weren’t biting that day. They never bit and you were left on the line, looking stupid time and time again. Every single time they marched you out, there was a collective yawn and they had to go back to the drawing board.

But each time, there was just you, and you don’t have anything to give anybody. You’re a dumb cowboy from Texas. It’s great and all, but it’s not 1899 anymore. We are past that, Cowboy, and you know it. I’m the thing now. I’m the guy. You must be aware of this, you just don’t quite understand, but that’s okay, I’ll make it really clear for you.

You see, you tell me that I haven’t been champion in a year and I haven’t done this or that, it’s because I was on the outs. I was busy defending a different title. You see, I’m not the most popular guy. I’m not the guy who just get thrusted into random world title matches. I earn them. Unlike you. Because they wanted you to be great, and you weren’t. I have been great since the day I stepped into an SCW ring. You have simply been called great. Hell, you’ve even accepted that you may not be able to beat me. I appreciate the honesty Cowboy. I appreciate you being honest with yourself. You cannot beat me, you will not beat me. It’s just the facts of the situation.

You just need to talk a long hard look in the mirror at this point Cowboy. I talk a lot of shit, a lot of it. And I back it up. I do everything I say I’m going to do. You on the other hand have been propped up and you have still fallen over. You continue to just be here. You have to know that, Cowboy. You’re not as good as they want you to be. You wanna call me out for talking shit, and to that I’d say, welcome to the fucking show, Cowboy. But you just hear the trash talk and you assume I’m doing it because I beat you. No, you see, I talk shit, and it’s the truth. That’s what people like you really don’t understand. I think you should really look at yourself, and do the same thing that Knox did: Accept it. There’s no other option. They want you to be great, and I’m going to be greater. All day, every day, twice on Sunday. 

Or rather... for the 3rd time.

 

Jack almost laughs as he moves on.

 

Jack: And then there’s you, dipshit. Ken Davison. Somehow, despite his best efforts, he is the World champion. I mean, you have to be a special kind of talented to fail upwards, like you do. You are the world champion, it makes me queasy just saying that out loud. I would question how, but it really just boils down to nobody really paying attention anymore. That’s right, we have reached levels so low, that nobody really cares that you are the world champion. That has to be what happened. You win the title, lose it and then win it back. Nobody expected you to. That’s how little faith anybody has in you, Ken. You weren’t even supposed to be here. It was supposed to be Finn Whalen. He should have been that guy and now, here you are.

The reason that I say your name a lot, is because it’s insulting to me that you have accomplished anything. That means I didn’t do my job, or someone is not letting me do my job. And also, because it gets you talking. It gets you out of your comfort zone, and you know it. You don’t have to say two words to me, and eventually I could have moved on. But you continue to let me get to you. You’re easy to work on Ken. I don’t even really have to try and I get to you. You are amusing to me.

But, you’re still trash who doesn’t deserve to be world champion, make no mistake about that. That opinion is never going to change and I will take it for as long as you are here. 

But you know, despite that, I’m actually glad you are in this match. I’m actually happy for you that you are the world champion. It’s going to make my victory all the more special. Because I’m going to take the title from you. And then, when you inieviably get some random world title match on Climax Control, or another supercard, I’m going to be there and beat you again.  And again, and again if need be. Beating you is going to become a highlight of my career. People are going to look back and say “why do they keep putting Ken Davison against Jack, it was never a contest!” And I’m going to laugh at that, because people will know it to be the truth. 

And all of that starts at Inception, Ken. I’m going to beat you and you will be the ultimate footnote in my career. Because it’s going to kick off the greatest era in SCW world title history, and it will be because I kicked your ass one more time. I know, it’s a lot to take in, but you know that’s what’s going to happen. And no supreme being or man in the sky is going to stop me. You will fall to a simply greater wrestler. I am better than you Ken, I’ve said it, and I will make it a reality at Inception.

I have played you like a fucking fiddle Ken, and you have given me some beautiful music. And now, the time is up and over with. Your time is up. And let me assure you that you will NEVER EVER again put your grubby fucking hands on MY championship so long as I have it. You can bet on that.

 

Jack smirks and looks to wrap this up.

 

Jack: So, there you go. There’s really nothing else to say anymore. I don’t give a shit what Ken tries to throw out there trying to sound serious, or what shit the Cowboy pulls from his boots. There is no denying me, and there is no stopping me. You will all accept that I am what I say that I am. The face of this franchise. Perhaps it will take being the world champion for my name to be on the roster. But at the end of the day... the three jackasses I’m in the ring with, will only serve at witnesses to the greatness that is Jack Washington. I will restore the prestige and the shine to the SCW world championship. I will restore it's honor and glory. I will lead this company into the future.
Think of it as my... restoration project.

And then you all will put some god damn respect on my name.

 

Jack stares into the camera looking extremely confident.

 

Click.

 

Face. Of. The. Franchise.