Prologue:
Jack was fresh off of a victory over Bill Barnhart, but was still sour over not winning King for a Day, and now wondering what was up next in his future, and what he could do to get what he truly felt he deserved in a world championship opportunity. Jack has always felt slighted, but he appeared to be as a crossroads.
However, with the announcement of vacancy of the SCW World title, Jack was going to be sure to throw his name in the ring for a possible opportunity. But Jack would have to focus on facing SCW legend Goth once again before any decisions were made.
Outside the ring, Jack and his family looked to have a new face running the casino, citing Brian’s declining health, Jason’s drug issues, and Jack’s traveling. They seemed to have found a new man in a man named Jimmy, and now all that was left was the finalize that deal, with a background check. --
Washington Estate
Las Vegas, NV
Brian sat in his own recliner sleeping comfortably as Jack simply sat at the kitchen table, looking at his phone, as if waiting for it to ring The house was super quiet. Eerily quiet. Finally, Brian was the first to stir from his nap, rising slowly and stretching, coughing and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Jack paid this very little mind and Brian slowly came out it walking to the fridge and pulling out some lunch meat to make himself a sandwich. He noticed Jack sitting there, just looking at his phone.
Brian: You alright there, Stick?
Jack: Just waiting to hear back from Bobby.
Brian: You know that could take a while, trying to dig up dirt on somebody. You gotta watch them and see how they move.
Jack: I’m aware of that.
Brian: And I’m aware that staring at your phone ain’t gonna make it go any faster.
Jack: Then what do you suppose I do?
Brian: Go try and find something constructive. You’re a wrestler ain’t ‘cha? Go wrestler or something.
Jack shot daggers at Brian, who arched a brow.
Brian: Touched a nerve I see.
Jack: I’m not in the mood to talk about it.
Brian: So, you would rather just look at your phone and watch as it does nothing all day?
Jack: Damn right.
Brian: Must be rough.
Jack: I don’t want to hear it.
Brian went back to making his sandwich chuckling to himself. Jack was getting more and more irritated by the second.
Jack: What is so god damn funny?!
Brian: You. It’s very funny that you’re so wound up about this.
Jack: Because it’s bullshit!
Brian: I’ll bet.
Brian finishing making his sandwich and put away all the lunch meat and bread and sat down at the table, pouring himself a drink of booze along the way. He sat quietly, simply eating the sandwich as Jack finally let it out.
Jack: They just don’t see it, and it’s bullshit!
Brian perked up, as if hearing this for the first time.
Brian: What? I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention.
Jack again glared at Brian, if looks could kill Brian would be a pile of ooze.
Jack: They just keep screwing me over and making me jump through hoops.
Brian: Oh?
Jack: Don’t act like you don’t hear me talking about it all the time.
Brian: Oh, I do, It’s really fucking annoying, Stick. But please, tell me more.
Jack: Fuck you, Brian. I mean, how many more times are people just going to get handed things and I’m over here scratching and clawing and all I get are scraps. It’s bullshit.
Brian: Yeah, I heard that part too. So, what are you going to do about it?
Jack opened his mouth and then stopped. For the first time in a while, Jack was kind of speechless. It was an asshole thing to say, but in a way, Jack hadn’t been doing anything about it other than complaining. He was angry and upset for sure, at the end of the day, he was just complaining to the ether.
He sat there, in a stunned silence, actually contemplating the question. Finally, not even looking at Brian, he answered.
Jack: I... I don’t know.
Brian: Well Stick, I suppose you better do something quick, because you know what? I’m tired of hearing you talk about how much you deserve X, Y, & Z. The facts are in, bitching about things doesn’t make them go away or change them in any way. That’s everything in this damn country. People complain about shit all the god damn time and don’t lift a finger to change it themselves. They just expect if they yell loud enough, people will hear them.
Jack looked at Brian, who took a bite of his sandwich to finish it off.
Brian: And that’s not the way the world works.
Brian dusted his hands, wiped his face and hands with a napkin, and threw the napkin and plate away. He sat back down and Jack was still in a state of shock pretty much. He had no idea what he needed to do or say at this moment.
Brian: So, what are you going to do, are you going to complain about it so more like a... what do they call them broads? Karen? Kathy?
Jack: Karen.
Brian: Whichever. You’re being that.
Jack: But I’m right.
Brian: And? What does being right have to do with it? Who cares if you’re right? Do you know how many loud ass wrong ass opinions there are out there? Millions. Being right, being wrong, being loud? I don’t understand the kids from your generation, Stick. The old phrase still works best. Actions speak louder than words.
Jack: BUT I DO...
Jack stopped, stared at Brian with a blank expression and buried his face into the phone again. He was completely now just disinterested in the conversation.
Brian: Actions speak louder than words, Stick.
Finally, after a long silence, the phone did ring. Jack took a second to snap out of it and pick answer the call from Bobby.
Jack: Bobby? Yeah... yeah I’ll have them escort you in.
Jack ended the call and waited. After a few seconds, one of the larger security guards brought Bobby in.
Jack: Thank you Marlon.
Bobby came and sat at the table as Marlon waited.
Jack: We’ll be in a minute, you can wait outside.
Marlon: Yes, sir.
Marlon exited as Jack turned to Bobby.
Jack: So, what’s the scoop on this Jimmy dude.
Bobby: Man, this dude is legit. Been doing all the things I can for ya, Jack. This guy is connected. Used to being in the underground stuff. But built himself a reputation. Been asking on the streets and they all seem to know him. They all respect him. I think you’re making a good choice because I think it would be good to have this dude on side if anything ever happens. Plus, got the rep for being a stand-up guy. So, this is a good choice.
Jack: You think so? He mentioned something about a “Jazzy B” Out in California. Anything there.
Bobby: Oh, Jazzy B dealt with a lot of stuff. She’s running her own stuff. In an out of jail though. I think she might have even been in the pro wrestling thing. At least that’s what I heard.
Jack perked up.
Jack: Really?
Bobby: That’s what they say.
Jack: Alright, thanks Bobby. Keep an eye out for anything else.
Bobby: You got it.
Jack and Bobby shook hands, Jack holding Bobby’s head close to his own.
Jack: You’re my boy.
Bobby: I got you, Jack.
Bobby soon departed and Jack took a deep breath and began walking towards his gym.
Brian: Good talk, I guess.
Jack: Don’t worry, I’m about to go make things happen.
--
On Camera:
Click: Jack looks exasperated as he paces back and forth. The man almost appears to be at his wits end as he begins.
Jack: I don’t know what else you want me to do. I really don’t. I’m getting so sick and tired, and really sick and tired of being sick and tired. I’m just over this nonsense right now. Who in their right mind is not watching me, and seeing the results and not rewarding me for what I deserve? It’s an absolute disgrace to this business that I have gotten what I deserve.
And don’t try and give me the sour grapes look. Don’t try and tell me that I haven’t earned it. Don’t sit here and try and bullshit me that the King for a Day match was my opportunity. I’ve seen people get championship matches for less and less every damn month. It’s like we just pick names out of a god damn hat these days. In fact, we do. Hell, we let the Bombshell’s champion just pick names at random. But me? Naw not me. I go around and beat people over and over again and what does it get me? Nothing. I may occasionally get thrown a bone when they all feel like it. But now, with all the nonsense, this has become a strange situation and a golden opportunity all at the same time.
The old man, who has no business winning the world title in the fucking first place, now, has had a bout of dementia or old timer’s disease or whatever. Don’t know, don’t care. That title, is now vacant. It’s vacant, and it has only one home. My waist. How many more times, are you all going to deny me? Because if I’m not in conversation, hell, if I'm not THE conversation, then something is wrong. So, I’m going to let you all think about it, and I need my answer by the end of show on Sunday.
But, of course in their infinite wisdom, they have to continue to give me stupid ass hurdles over and over again trying to make me “earn it” when they know damn well I’ve earned it time and time again and they just keep moving the damn goalposts.
Now look, I don’t care that Austin James Mercer put me against Bill Barnhart. I beat his ass and that was that. He thought that was a cute thing there and I’m sure he just was tickled and cracked that dumb ass grin he has because he thought he was so clever. It was a minor inconvenience and I’m past that now. But once again, these people just crawl out of the woodwork, coming back time and time again, apparently just to be a pain in my ass.
Yes Goth, I'm talking about you. Jack throws his hands up, again just frazzled about the upcoming match.
Jack: You see it, I see it. We’re against each other. And quite frankly, I was DREADING doing this again this week. Because you just don’t take the hint, do you? You don’t get it. I just wanted you to go away. Go away and don’t come back around anymore. I thought, after last time you would finally take the hint, walk away and stay your ass at home drinking prune juice, yelling at clouds or whatever it is old people do these days. I just wanted to be rid of you. Your presence is annoying to me. I was breathing so well the past few months know good and well you were out of the picture.
Imagine my chagrin when you popped back up again like a fucking pimple recently.
Why? Why Goth? Why are you making this a thing again. You are literally the Spongebob meme right now. How many times do I have to teach you this lesson? How many times do I have to beat your old ass down before you understand how this works? What more can I do at this point? I have beaten this man time and time again, and then he scored a fluke victory and proceeded to do jack shit with the Internet title that I just won it again recently without too much trouble. Like, what more can I say about this man? What more do I need to do to finally rid myself of his presence? Why will he not just stay down? I’m just come to the conclusion that Goth is just too stupid to stay down.
I’ve gone over this so many times before and now all those thoughts have come flooding back into my brain the time this match was announced. Do you guys want me to beat him so badly that he physically CAN’T come back? Is he that big of a pain in the ass to all of you running this company as well? Like, what the fuck is there left for me to bring up about Goth that doesn’t make this feel like a re-run? How much is there left to really discuss? I have to ask these questions man, because it’s pissing me off that it’s almost like it’s my day to watch Goth and make sure he doesn’t piss himself. It’s not a job I want or need. You keep throwing this man at me even though he doesn’t deserve to be the same ring with me.
Yes, I said it, and I said it because it’s true. That’s what I do. And now it’s beginning to look like I’m going to have to go that far because unless I do it, it simply won’t be done and Goth will continue to pop up over and over despite the fact his welcome was worn out long ago. I suppose it’s my duty to beat his brains out and leave him laying again.
But you know, I don’t even want to do that. That’s why I was dreading this. Because I don’t want to have this old man’s blood on my hands and now, my hand is being forced in this situation. This is not what I wanted to have to do, but apparently, I don’t have a choice in this situation do I?
So, now I’m going to have to say some things that I don’t really want to, but it has to be said. Jack looks into the camera, shaking his head, almost pleading with his eyes.
Jack: Goth, I want you to look into my eyes and understand what I’m about to say to you. I’m in this position and I don’t like it. But I’ve got to tell you the truth.
I don’t want you to show up on Sunday.
I don’t. I don’t want to see you in the ring anymore. I don’t want you to keep coming back and taking the beatings you keep taking. Because your time is over and the thing is, it’s not even just you that doesn’t realize it. It’s the people who continue to parade you out like some circus freak time and time again like it’s not slowing killing you.
I want you to stay your ass at home and take the forfeit and then we can call it good. I don’t want to see you ever again at this point. I’ll be the first to admit that I cannot stand you. I want you to just go away because you don’t belong here anymore. But it’s obvious that the powers that be think you can still offer something, so they’re going to keep dragging you out here and putting you in my way. It’s like they want both of us to suffer. They constantly want you to try and be the person who shuts me up, knowing damn well that you are incapable of doing so. And I guess it gasses you up to think the same thing. So you’re putting me in the spot where I have to hurt you and truth be told, I don’t want to do that. Not because I like you, not because you’ve earned my respect, it’s the simple fact that I’m tired of you.
I’m tired of dealing with you, I’m tired of hearing you, I’m tired of talking about you, and I’m just plain tired of seeing you. They are going to make me do something that I don’t want to do. You are going to make me doing something I don’t want to do. Don’t force my hand, Goth. I’m asking you right now to just walk away. Go away. Vanish. You had your time, what little of it there was, but you are simply cutting into my time, and that’s going to force a chain reaction that’s going to lead to you being put out and injured at my hands. I don’t want your blood on my hands Goth. I’ve already proven to you that I am better than you. I have proven that I am at the top of my game, and you just aren’t there anymore. It’s over for you. Stop coming back and pretending that this is still your time.
Just walk away.
This is the last warning, Goth. This is just going to be the last time, Goth. After this, I don’t want you to come back around here. Stop trying to make this a thing. I’m done with you. I’ve been done with you. I’ve already moved past you several months ago. Stop coming back around, stop getting in my way.
I know you’re too hard-headed to listen, but I just want it to be right here, on camera that I warned everybody about what is going to happen. I warned you all, I warned Goth. After that... none of this is my fault. What happens, is going to be on all your heads, not mine. Jack shakes his head.
Jack: I just hope that you don’t make me do it, Goth. I know you’re going to, I know you’re going to force my hand. And so, you had better be ready to deal with the consequences. Jack simply walks away and the scene fades to black.
Click. FACE OF THE FRANCHISE.
