Prologue:
Jack was of course unsuccessful in regaining the SCW World heavyweight championship in the fatal four-way match, despite being extremely confident he would. Jack had explained his position over and over again and it may have been the main reason he lost. He simply believed this would be a walk in the park and it clearly wasn’t. Now Jack is looking at an even longer road ahead of him if he ever hopes to gain an SCW World title match again, and also recently like the rest of the viewing audience, saw the reformation of the Saviors with Mac Bane and Ken Davison. Jack may not actually care about that too much, but he has to take notice that it is going to be a problem for him.
Jack was left off of SCW TV for the past couple of weeks, and now returns against the recently returned Calvin Harris, in a match two former world champions, and seeming clash of generations. Jack has been pretty quiet about recent developments, but that’s never stopped him from venting his frustrations before.
Outside the ring, Jack’s family drama seems to finally be settling down as he looks to continue to run the casino with his brother, and uncle, and seemingly has found out through some therapy about himself and why he’s just so angry about everything. Only time will tell if this will help, or hinder Jack in the future, but for now, it appears that there are some calm seas for him. He purchased a junker car for his uncle Brian to restore, as this is something Brian always wanted to do.
Of course, with how volatile and unstable his brother can be, and in turn how he can make Jack just as volatile and unstable as he is at times. It always feels like when there is a calm, it’s usually right before a storm.
--
Washington Estate
Las Vegas, NV Jack sat stewing in his anger. He was in a rage over not becoming the SCW world champion, and it seemed like the smallest thing could send him over the edge. For what seemed like forever, he just sat there. He drank heavily. He had to do something, anything to kill both the pain and boredom he felt over having to sit at home. He barely moved, except to pour out the whiskey for himself, and then down it as quickly as possible. The burning of the Jack Daniels only served to fuel and stoke the firey rage inside of him.
Brian had entered the house, going from the garage into the house to wash his hands as he continued to work on the car Jack had bought for him. But he even felt the unnaturally cold vibe in the room as Jack stared straight ahead, sometimes with the TV on, and other times with nothing on the screen. Brian walked over and nudged Jack’s arm with his hip.
Brian: What’s the matter with you?
Jack of course didn’t answer. He barely reacted to the nudge with nothing but a quick glance and an icy stare back at Brian for a few seconds, before returning his gaze to nothing in particular.
Brian: You gonna sit there and feel sorry for yourself this whole time now? You can’t just sit there forever.
Jack again didn’t bother to respond or acknowledge Brian’s words or voice in any way.
Brian: Or I guess you can. But, you ain’t gonna accomplish anything doing it.
Jack again didn’t even budge. After a long and uncomfortable silence, he poured another glass of whiskey and began to drink it. Brian was waiting for some kind of reaction from Jack, but wasn’t getting anything. Believing he had tried, Brian simply shrugged and finishes drying his hands.
Brian: Well, I’ll be in the garage. Holler if you need anything.
Jack gave him all of nothing. Brian shook his head, threw away the paper towels and went back into the garage, leaving Jack to his own devices again. He sat in the deafening silence and just stewed. It was like this for a long time before Jason finally came in the door, having taken his day at the Casino. He walked in pretty much not seeing Jack except a quick glance. Jason shot a hand up to acknowledge Jack.
Jason: ‘Sup, bro?
Jason wasn’t look and assumed Jack had made a move, but he clearly hadn’t. Jack poured himself a glass of water and grabbed a bag of chips and sat down on the couch next to Jack, who was in his recliner. Jason wasn’t really paying attention to Jack’s face, and he loudly opened the bag of chips.
Jason: Man, I gotta say, running that Casino has been really fun. You know, I think we’re really doing well. I think pretty soon we’ll be one of the top money-earners in the whole state. It was pretty genuis of you to take the Casino and make it off the strip.
Jack again said nothing. He didn’t acknowledge Jason, until Jason began eating the chips. The loud crunching seemed to make Jack twitch.
Jason: But I did notice there’s some people who keep coming around. They never gamble, I think they’re scoping the place out. You ever see them?
Jason’s loud crunch finally pushed the final button and Jack leapt up from his chair.
Jack: GOD DAMN IT!
Jack screamed at the top of his lungs, he was seething and Jason really didn’t even acknowledge that. He looked at Jack, and then eat another chip.
Jason: You good, Bro?
Jack: NO! NO I’M NOT FUCKING GOOD!
Jason stood up, touching Jack’s shoulder to at least start to calm him down.
Jason: I get it bro, I do. Sometimes you just gotta let it out, you know? Vent.
Jack: This is A BUNCH OF BULLSHIT! I HAD THAT FUCKING MATCH. IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN MINE!
Jason: Okay, dude, save your voice. You don’t need to yell that loudly.
Jack: Shut up. You weren’t there. You did have to deal with that bullshit! You didn’t have to have people know you’re telling them the truth, and not even acknowledge it. To know, that you’re so god damn right about everything, and they keep turning a blind eye.
Jason: Truth hurts, man. Some people can’t handle it.
Jack: I don’t... I don’t get it. I did what I was supposed to do. I earned the match, and then... they stick two other assholes in the match and then one of them is working with the champion and neither of the other two did a fucking thing to be in the match and it’s like... there ya go. It was basically a 3 on 1 thing man.
Jason: It’s tough, I get it.
Jack: No, you don’t. You don’t get it. There is a massive fucking plan to prevent me from being everything I say I am. They want to make me look like a liar, Jay. They want to make me out to be a liar. I ain’t a liar man! I’ve said what I’ve said. You know? Am I an asshole?
Jason: Sometimes, yeah.
Jack: Shut up, that was rhetorical. I KNOW I’m an asshole. I’m had to do some dirty shit to get where I I needed to be, but I ain’t ever lied to ya’ll. And this is how they treat me. They give me that shit match and then they leave me to rot at the house man. It ain’t fair. It ain’t FUCKING fair.
Jason: Bro, trust me, I know how you feel. I dealt with that shit all the time in the Army. You have a good thing going, you get exactly where you need to be, and then somebody comes along and they fuck it up because of stupid reasons. Or some officer comes in and changes the way you do things just because he or she doesn’t like it. I get it man, it’s fucked up.
Jack for the first time actually seems to be listening to Jason words instead of just hearing his voice and just ranting.
Jack: Yeah, yeah, exactly. They’re trying to do some shit to get rid of me. GOD DAMN IT. I CANT LET THEM DO THAT! THIS SHIT IS TOO MUCH! I GOTTA DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS!
Jason: Bro, it’s cool, you don’t really need to get drastic.
Jack: YES I FUCKING DO! I NEED TO. I WILL SHOW THEM! OH YOU BET YOUR ASS I WILL SHOW THEM! THOSE MOTHER FUCKERS!
Jack breaks away from Jason and get out onto his balcony and screams at the top of his lungs. It goes for what seems like a fully minute, before Jack comes back inside and Jason pats him on the shoulder.
Jason: Feel better?
Jack: Yeah... actually. I really do.
Jack seems to be back to normal now.
Jason: Yeah, sometimes you just gotta vent. Can’t keep it all pent up, you know?
Jason eats another chip, the crunch makes Jack wince.
Jack: Yeah... Yeah you do.
Jack turns to leave, and not be near Jason eating chips, but stops. He turns back to Jason, holding up a finger.
Jack: Wait... who did you say is at the Casino?
--
Grand Flamingo Casino
Las Vegas, NV. Jack is in the managers office, Jason and Brian along side him as two other men we’ve never seen before are sitting at the table on the opposite end.
Jack: Okay gentlemen, I have seen you in my casino quite a few times, and you’re not gambling. While I appreciate the eyes on my business, I also don’t appreciate the eyes on my business. If you are my customer, that’s one thing, but since you clearly aren’t here to spend your money. There’s another reason you’re here. So... with all due respect...Who are you, and what do you want?
The younger man stands up, clearing his throat and adjusting his suit jacket.
Man – My name is Michael Montgomery, and this is my association, Robert Wall.
Robert tips his hat.
Michael: We’re here as... well let’s just to the chase, we’re here to try and negotiate with you.
Jack: Negoiate what?
Michael: A potential, buyout.
Jack turns to Brian, trying to seemingly hold in laughter.
Jack: A buyout?
Michael: Yes, that’s what it would be technically, but really, it’s more of a... partnership.
Jack: Boy, that seems like a bit of a walk back.
Michael: We have looked over the casino and we feel it’s a solid investment. We have some wealthy investors looking to break into the casino business and this is one that has seemingly popped up and done well. But it’s not worth what it could be worth.
Jack: Are you saying we’re doing a bad job?
Michael: No, far from it, in fact. We think that has been a great turnaround you’ve given this area. That’s why we want to invest.
Robert: You would be very handsomely rewarded for this.
Jack: I know you think I’m a dumb wrestler, but I know the difference, between investing and buying something like this. Plus, I have money. This isn’t about money. I have money. I make money, I can practically fucking PRINT money. So it’s not appealing to me.
Michael: And we understand that. This is why we’re having this conversation.
Jason stood up, having finally heard enough.
Jason: Fuck these dudes. The casino isn’t for sale. That’s just what it is. Take it and go back to whoever it is you work for, because he didn’t have the balls to come here himself, and you tell him that. The Grand Flamingo is off the ground because of the Washington family, and it’s gonna stay that way!
Michael: We do have some things we’d like you to consider!
Jack: No, you don’t. We’re done here.
Jack pushes a button on the table intercom.
Jack: Ed...see these gentlemen out.
Ed, the bodyguard enters with his team and Michael and Robert stand up clutching their belongings.
Jack: This is OUR casino. If we see you come back here, and you aren’t sticking quarters in slot machines, it’ll be the last place you ever enter. Now, Ed here will show you both the door. Or the floor, or both if you’re not careful.
Ed ushers the men out and Jason shakes his head, Brian nodding along and Jack in thought.
Jack: People just seem to want to get rid of us... They want us to go away. I guess we have to show everybody we’re here for the long haul.
--
On Camera:
Click. Wearing his usual scowl, Jack paces back and forth in his home. There’s a ton of pep in his step, even though he isn’t going anywhere. If looks could kill, the camera would be a pile of ooze at the moment. Jack looks like a ticking time bomb, ready to explode.
Jack: It’s almost like they want people to know this is some kind of game. You know, I go out of my way to do things the way they are supposed to be done, and then what happens? Oh, you earned your title match, but we’re gonna make it a fatal four-way just because we think it works. I should have been in the ring with Ken Davison, one and one, beat his ass, and won the World title for a 3rd time. Period.
There’s no “yeah but” in that. What did Matt Knox do to be in that match? Nothing. What did Mac Bane do to be in that match? Nothing. I won matches. Including, against Mac Bane, might I add. But no, just make this random match and act like I should be counting my lucky stars. It’s a big bunch of bullshit and everybody knows it.
Then we get to the damn fatal four-way and some more bullshit happens and Mac Bane flukes his way to another win. It’s like...no, let’s just tell everyone how great he is because we keep giving him chance after chance and sooner or later, the sun shines on his ass and he gets somewhere. I wish I had that. I wish I got these types of chances.
Inception was the first time I got a World title match since I won it from Kris Ryans in 2021. I have been starved, because apparently, this company is against making money and treating their franchise player like he’s a franchise player.
And then, to top it off, it’s always awfully convenient that after these big shows and after I get the crumbs and the scraps tossed to me, that they try to forget about me. I mean, there’s matches already made for the next big show. And I... just this week, am seeing action for the first time. Oh no, let’s not put Jack on these shows. Let him sit at home, maybe he’ll leave us alone.
But what they are REALLY after is me coming to the show and complaining. Right? That’s the big thing now. Jack Washington is a complainer, he’s a whiner. The truth of the matter is I point out everything that is wrong and unjust. All of them want to drone on and one about how you have to earn this, and earn that, when it’s bunch of bullshit. I beat the guys in front of me, and I barely got thrown a bone. Mac Bane does nothing and gets rewarded. Matt Knox does EVEN LESS and he gets rewarded. You tell me, is it fair? Was it earned? NO. FUCKING NO.
And then, Inception happens, and the guy who wasn’t pinned, that would be me, gets left for dead, and Mac Bane and Ken Davison just get all these luxury matches and win despite their best efforts and get treated like they’re special, when I have PROVED, time and time again, they are not. They reformed the saviors, a group so forgettable they reformed and still nobody cares. Obviously, it just proved Ken Davison is a fluke champion, and Mac Bane can’t get shit done on his own.
And what do I get? A big pile of shit. Here you go, Jack, we’ll put you in action against this Calvin Harris person and you have to start at the bottom. You have to earn it. Nobody else around here does, because we decide on a whim that people should get championship matches. But not you. You have to earn them. It’s complete bullshit and they just want to turn a deaf ear and a blind eye to it. Jack is clearly not happy, only stopping a moment to take a breath. It seemed like all of this was coming out today.
Jack: By the way, I’m STILL not listed on the roster page. You have fucking Todd Williams on the roster, but not me. You see this shit? I just want everybody to see this shit. Understand that unless the shit actually impacts me, I don’t really give a shit about it. I don’t have to run onto social media and demand title shots after every big show. I don’t give a shit about the Internet or Roulette divisions. I’m above that, and I already fucking proved that too.
No, I’m pointing out everything WRONG with this shit. You know why? Because it needs to be said. You can say I’m whining, but you know what? That’s because those saying that, are either A) Getting the special treatment, or B) Too chicken shit to say something. They all go to their low-end jobs and complain about them. Overworked and underpaid right? But yet you people LET people walk all over you, because you’re too scared to lose those jobs. I’m not afraid to say what needs to be said, and I don’t care who I piss off, or whose toes I step on.
I say the shit that needs to be said. I tell the truth. That’s why they say I’m whining, because it’s the only defense they have, because they can’t call me a liar. Those are the facts of the situation. Jack twitches his neck, the pacing having continued this entire time.
Jack: Now, Calvin Harris, right? I mean, I suppose beating you won’t do shit for me anyway. So, why do I have to bother with this? What does beating you get me? WIll it finally get my name on the roster page? Probably not. Am I going to be a world title match? No, of course not. We’ll go to the well of, well, you already had a title shot, we need new blood and all that happy horseshit. Meanwhile Mac Bane just gets chance after chance. Oh, episode 375 of Climax Control? Why not have uh... Mac Bane defend against... I don’t know, Senior Vinnie, just fucking because.
You know, it’s rude of me to disregard you Calvin, making your triumphant return or whatever like you’re Jesus coming out of the cave. The fact is, I don’t really give two shits about you, or what you accomplished a decade ago. You got your roses then, didn’t you? Weren’t people singing your praises and calling you great then? Is that how it went? I don’t really care, I just trying to make some conversation here. In fact, no, I don’t really care about making conversation anymore.
The thing is, you’ve already had your day. You had your time 5 years ago. And it is yet again more and more people just keep filing back in like this is some kind of country club, and people like you don’t get out of the fucking way and stay out the way. Just move on. Why come back? Why do you want to embarrass yourself at this point? You think anybody is impressed you beat Austin Mercer? Been there, done that, Slapped him down a number of times. And I will do the same to you.
I know you really may just think that you still got it or whatever the old timer phrase is, 40 is the new 20 and all that, but the reality of this situation is you are out of your league now. Hell, considering everything, you were out of your league then. One random ass Battle Royal win doesn’t mean a damn thing to me. And it seems that it was light a shooting star. Here one moment, gone the next. You had yourself a little 4 month reign and then... nothing.
I would think that had had your fill of the spotlight since you reached the top despite yourself, but here you are now, attempting to one again step back in. And I just so tired of this shit at this point. Jack is still fuming, and still pacing. If this was on dirt, he would have dug a trench without a shovel.
Jack: You’re just like everybody else that keeps coming back. You refuse to get out of the way for the future, for the better. You keep coming back over and over. The fact is you are interrupting what is supposed to be my moments. I am the face of this franchise and they just don’t want to admit it. They want to bring people like you back all the time and hope that they people will just accept it. Everybody comes back, we’re a family in SCW, all that shit. They just don’t want to admit that I have told the truth, I have backed up everything I have said, and I have been wronged time and time again and been told to basically kick rocks for being in the right. And you get to benefit from it.
I always thought that when the generations change, the old one is supposed to pave the way for the new one. But I guess, there’s just a lot of resistance to me at this point. People like you keep getting the carpet rolled out for them and the brass still wants them to be seen at the shiny new toys, when it’s clear they’ve lost their luster.
So, I’m going to make this real simple for you, Calvin Harris. At Climax Control, I’m going to beat the holy hell out of you, and I will show you just how much this game has passed you by. Now, of course, you don’t really need to worry, I’ve beaten old timers a few times around here and they just keep coming back and getting rewarded for failure. So I don’t have any doubt in my mind that when you take this loss, it won’t really matter in the long run.
But you can also take a little bit of solace in the fact that I am the best in this company, despite everybody’s attempts to hold me back. You are simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, Calvin Harris. You’ve caught me at the time where I’m just pissed off. And while I would say it would be wise for you to just take this ass whoppin’ like a man and move forward, but as turns out, the one little thing I check on social media has to do with you. Jack seems especially annoyed by the tweet, and by the sentiment behind it.
Jack: You post about how your little punk ass kid is drawing pictures of me. I’m not sure why you thought it was important to share that, but you did. Now, maybe your kid is smarter than you, because he’s drawing pictures of me, and not you. Maybe your kid is really just trying to tell you that he’s got a new favorite wrestler and you’ve been replaced. Maybe you should just take that subtle hint and accept the reality.
Or, maybe your kid is just trying to give you some false hope. I don’t know. He’d be as dumb as you if he actually thought you had a chance in hell this week anyway. But now, it’s just motivation for me. I’m already pissed off as it is, and now I have this little piece to work even further on.
You know, I’m actually starting to think this whole thing just needs a little more push. It just needs to be put over the top, and then, then people will actually understand where I’m coming from. Maybe then people will actually know that I mean what I say and I say what I mean. Maybe I don’t need to just beat you, Calvin Harris. Maybe that’s not good enough anymore.
Maybe, I need to not just beat you, but I need to hurt you. I need to put you on the shelf. I need to maybe end your career or something. Maybe I need to send you home to be a family man permanently. I don’t know, I haven’t decided yet if that’s all I want to do, but the fact is, I’m getting really sick and tired of being ignored around here, especially when I’m speaking the truth.
So, would you guys just enjoy it if I just broke Calvin Harris? Would THAT get me on the roster? Would THAT get me a random title match? I’m just asking at this point, because I feel like it’s the next step in this whole process. I’m going to have to do something to get myself noticed. I mean, I’ve already beaten everybody. I’ve already shown how much better I am at talking than everybody else. What the fuck else do I need to do?
Beat Calvin Harris? Sure. Hurt Calvin Harris? I just might. I guess we’ll see. Fade on Jack's face turning to a very unsettling grin.
ClickFace. Of. The. Franchise.
