Monday, September 22, 2014. Eleven years and eleven days after one of the most heinous actions ever perpetrated on American soil, Sean Jackson was on the ground at Scott Air Force Base to promote the SCW Military Tour. After sitting on the tarmac for approximately ten minutes, Sean Jackson and company exited down the steps from one of the specially transformed C-130 cargo plane into what was now called the "Freedom Bird".
Wearing a black in color armani suit, Sean is wearing dark sunglasses that completely cover his eyes while Marshall Owens is in his slightly less expensive suit with Vanessa in a tight fitting pair of jeans and a cammo HSI logo shirt. Once at the bottom of the stairs, the trio is met by an entourage of top military brass, including the man in charge of the installation Colonel Kyle J. Kremer.
With cameras everywhere, representing Scott AFB, Sin City Wrestling, and yes, even A&E for Sean Jackson's own reality show, he doesn't hesitate to acknowledge Colonel Kremer by extending his hand. As Colonel Kremer accepts the handshake, he welcomes the SCW star to his installation.
Kremer: "Welcome to Scott Air Force Base Mr. Jackson. I hope your flight went well?"
With a smile, Sean nods as he gives total respect to the Installation commander by taking off his shades and sliding them into his pocket.
Jackson: "Why yes, yes it did."
As Sean gives the short answer, he does peer over Colonel Kremer's shoulder and towards the civilian vehicle at the end of the red carpet treatment.
Jackson: "For me?"
Colonel Kremer smiles.
Kremer: "Well, it's a long way to the hanger where the matches will take place this Sunday. You may be game for walking all that way Mr. Jackson, but I do have a base to run. So if you will accompany us this way, we'll be there much sooner."
As Sean turns his attention from the mode of transportation to the hanger all the way on the other side of the runway, he quickly decides that walking in a suit will NEVER be an option. Especially on this hot tarmac. As far as he's concerned, as a finally tuned professional athlete, he doesn't have to prove shit to anyone. He could make that trek walking on his hands way better than anyone on that installation could on their feet, especially this so called base commander who now stood in front of him.
But hey, it was a free ride, so maybe he could tolerate the old man a tad longer.
Jackson: "Don't mind if I do, thank you."
As Sean moves past Colonel Kremer, he wonders if the good Colonel has any clue as to how the Mental Rapist conducts his interviews. The last time Sean did one of these, the entire wrestling world was thrown for a loop. Matter of fact, it happened in Memphis, Tennessee and in the arena that the Memphis Grizzlies called home. At that, he was rude, crude, and didn't hold anything back. He ripped the wrestling world, he ripped the establishment, and he went all in to completely tear down the NWA hierarchy. Now he was moments away from promoting this Sunday's Climax Control.
One has to wonder if the Public Affairs Office knows what's about to come their way?
Within moments, Colonel Kremer and Sean Jackson accompanied by their respective entourages and video crews have gotten into the small motorcade and is now heading towards the hanger where Climax Control 93 will be taking place. As Sean lays his head back against the plush seats, Colonol Kremer continues the conversation.
Kremer: "Now I've got to admit, I'm not much of a wrestling fan. Pretty much, have no clue what it's all about. But I've heard that you guys can do some amazing things in the ring..."
This brings an obvious smile to Sean's face. Hey, a good stroking of the ego is nice every once and a while. Especially from a man who's in charge of an entire installation and STILL isn't qualified to lace up Sean's boots.
Kremer: "And I can see that you keep in pretty good shape. A lot like some of my airmen who normally participate in our military events. Matter of fact..."
Wait, Sean thought to himself. This Colonel Klink wannabee is comparing one of the best wrestlers in the world to a bunch of airman stiffs? really?
Jackson: "Why thank you Colonel, that's much appreciated. And yes, I do stay in very good shape if I say so myself. Professional wrestling over the past two years has been very kind to me...."
Sean runs his fingers over the armani suit that he is wearing, the smile getting larger while shooting a quick glance over at Vanessa who is sitting across from him.
Jackson: "Very kind to me."
He then turns his attention back to Colonel Kremer.
Jackson: "How about you Colonel, you have something that hot waiting for you at home?"
A stern look forms on the Colonel's face, it is obvious that he doesn't like the direction the conversation is going. Instead of losing his military bearing, he instead gets the topic back on wrestling and the promotion of Climax Control.
Kremer: "By the time we get to the hanger, everything will be set up to SCW specifications. But I do have to ask that this promotion not be made into a circus because I'm quite sure that there will be young kids present."
Vanessa and Marshall exchange looks as Sean fights back the urge to go into full blown laughter. No, he's going to be on his best behavior for the time being. But as soon the cameras begin rolling, all bets will be off....
And Sean knows it.
Jackson: "Oh don't worry sir, you won't regret this one bit. I promise."
Famous last words.
As the motorcade pulls up to the entrance of the hanger, Sean notices that some makeshift stands are completely filled with dependents from the airmen stationed on base and the surrounding area. A nice podium is set up in front hanger where banners from Scott AFB, The 375th AMW, The 375th Air Mobility Wing Public Affairs, and Sin City Wrestling.
The motorcade comes to a stop and an air force Security Specialist stands by as Chief Master SGT. Wesley D. Mathias opens the door and gives Colonel Kremer a salute, which is promptly returned. After a brief shaking of hands, Kremer moves to the side as Sean Jackson, Vanessa, and Marshall Owens also exits. CMS Mathias then motions for Jackson and company to follow him to the podium where SGT. Victoria Williams from Public Affairs is already standing by.
There is a buzz from the young kids in the stands who sit anxiously awaiting Sean's approach. That buzz gets louder when SGT. Williams begins her announcement.
Williams: "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to Scott Air Force Base, a representative from Sin City Wrestling. He is a former world heavyweight champion from Dallas Texas, and he will be participating this Sunday in the main event. The 375th Air Military Wing brings to you Sean Jackson."
The contingent of fans and family members as well as airmen who were able to make the promotion, stand and applause as Sean makes his way to the podium. Once there, standing in front of the mic, he again smiles and adjusts the shades as Vanessa takes up on one side and Marshall Owens on the other. Sean takes one more moment to adjust the mic before beginning to speak.
Jackson: "Thank you for that warm introduction. Now then, as much as I would like to promote SCW as a whole here today, that just isn't in the cards. No, if it doesn't involve Hot Stuff International or Sean Jackson, then it isn't even worth discussing. I mean, really, who cares about a bunch of losers who aren't a part of HSI, or the Mean Girls."
Okay, this isn't starting off well. Colonel Kremer who had already taken his seat in the front row, is slightly confused. This is kind of getting away from what they discussed just moments earlier. Little does he know that this is only the beginning. It's about to get far more uglier than he could possibly imagine. A real public relations nightmare is about to ensue and heads WILL roll.
Jackson: "Last week, I put the entire wrestling world on notice when I destroyed Jamie Dean and put him on the shelf. Better yet, with what I did to Mr. Dean, you people on this base could take a few pointers. You see, when my boss Hot Stuff Mark Ward wants shock and awe, he GETS shock and awe. He had a plan in mind when he put me in a two out of three falls match with Jamie Dean, and that is exactly what I did. He wanted me to destroy Dean, he wanted me to completely eradicate him from the wrestling world...."
Sean looks out at the people in the stands, including the kids. The smile on his face tells Kremer that he didn't give a damn about the instructions given and now he was going to give everyone what HE wanted them to hear.
Jackson: "And it was mission accomplished. But unlike the relationship that I have with Hot Stuff Mark Ward, your leader Barack Obama can't even make up his mind on a bunch of camel jockeys. You people are seated here in front of this hanger, seemingly happy that you can put together some half ass facilty that isn't worthy of me pissing in, much less wrestling in...."
By the way, did I mention a public relations nightmare? Somebody should have done their homework.
Jackson: "And you're happy with it. But at least this Sunday, you people will learn first hand on how to get rid of someone. Unlike the inability of the 375th to get rid of a bunch of cave dwellers, I'm going to totally destroy that so called paper champion Drake Green, just like I did to Jamie Dean."
Hearing enough, Colonel Kremer stands up, completely furious. He understands that there is a bit of trash talking between competitors, even though he doesn't understand wrestling as a whole. But he will be damned if he allows Sean Jackson to run down his base, his airmen, and even his commander-in-chief.
Kremer: "Hey, hey, just a damn minute..."
Sean cuts him off, especially since he has the mic. Rule number one is that no one, and that means NO ONE interrupts any promotions or interviews that he conducts.
Jackson: "Hey pencil neck, sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up. You aren't anything more than a glorified flight simulator jockey who kissed ass to get to the top. Matter of fact, where were you when our Ambassador needed help at Bengazi?"
Colonel Kremer is now having to be physically restrained from rushing the podium. In great shape himself, he would be no match for a trained professional wrestler.
Jackson: "That's right, let the little kiddies hold you back. Like you really want to come up here and fight this finally tuned athlete. You'll have a better chance against one of those ISIS bitches. Oh wait, that's right Obama doesn't have any faith in you."
Colonel Kremer is now about to lose his mind. He's shocked and disturbed from the words coming from Sean's mouth. He isn't thinking about the ramifications of confronting a professional wrestler, just a man who is spewing vile garbage on HIS BASE.
Jackson: "You know, when I first heard I was going to be in this part of the country, I thought I would be coming to a REAL military base like Ft. Leonard Wood, Missouri. But you know, the more I think about it, Leonard Wood is too good of a place to be infected by the dirty blood of Drake Green..."
This was by far, more than anyone could have ever expected from Sean Jackson. Because of Sean's tone, most parents are now getting their kids as far away from the commotion as possible. However, Colonel Kremer is now barking orders for someone, anyone to bring him a mic, or any other amplified device. Once a hand held radio and amplified device is handed to him, the Colonel goes off.
Kremer: "Jackson, you're done here. I want you off of my base, and I don't care how in the fu..."
Marshall Owens: "Um, excuse me...Colonel Kremer is it?"
Marshall interjecting himself causes the Colonel to stop with the yelling. As Marshall moves in on the podium mic, Sean slightly steps to the side, a smile forming on his face. Yes, there's a reason why Sean goes nowhere without his attorney.
Marshall: "I do believe that you took an oath way back in the day, did you not?"
Colonel Kremer's face is now a beet red. He's literally beside himself with anger. However, he is listening and for good reason. He did swear to defend the Constitution of the United States. Which meant....
Marshall: "The oath to defend a man's right to free speech. Did you not?"
The smile on Sean's face gets larger.
Marshall: "You know, I haven't served a day in the military. But as an attorney, I do know when someone's rights are about to be violated."
Marshall reaches into his suit pocket, retrieving the document that enabled Sean Jackson to represent Sin City Wrestling, to come to Scott Air Force Base to promote Climax Control.
Marshall: "Now then, this is the agreement made between Sin City Wrestling and YOUR Public Relations Office. An agreement that ultimately was signed off by YOUR own signature. Now maybe you aren't very familiar with how professional wrestling is promoted, and from the looks of most of your airmen on this base...."
Marshall points out towards a few of the older airmen who might not be in the best of shape. A move that further enrages Colonel Kremer who is trying his best to regain military bearing.
Marshall: "But this is how professional wrestlers make their living. Sean will spout off a few words, hurt Drake's feelings and Drake will come here Sunday understanding that he will have a fight on his hands. Meanwh..."
Jackson: "Meanwhile, pencil neck geeks like you continue to fight your battles through the media. While terrorists are cutting the heads off of unarmed american civilians in Syria, you people sit here and do nothing. Well I don't operate that way SIR...."
Sean steps from behind the podium and begins tapping his knee. The same one that delivers the high knee, lights out finisher.
Jackson: "I am a man of action, which is the reason why Jamie Dean is no longer functioning higher than a squashed grape. I look out at what you call a functioning roster of airmen and I'm disgusted. I bet there isn't a single person out there who can do more than fifty pushups before collapsing from exhaustion."
Kremer clears the airmen holding him back and immediately begins taking off his Class A uniform top.
Kremer: "You're on"
Jackson: (laughing) "What?"
Kremer hands his top to an aide.
Kremer: "Are you deaf and stupid? I said you're on."
Now it is Sean who begins to lose his cool, but hey, here's a golden opportunity to embarrass a high ranking air force Colonel, so he jumps at the opportunity. Sean shoves the podium out of the way as Kremer is now making his way into the hanger, with Sean Jackson and the large crowd now in tow.
Colonel Kremer goes to his knees and looks up at Sean, who is now standing in front of him, still dressed in his armani suit. However, he doesn't understand why the Colonel hasn't started *pushing em out*
Jackson: "Well?"
Kremer: "Oh no, get out of that top because we're going man to man, right here in front of everyone. You turned this personal by running down my men and women and now, I'm going to make this personal by embarrassing you in front of the entire world."
Jackson: "Your funeral old man."
Sean takes off his top and passes it off to Vanessa. He too, goes to his knees and is soon looking Colonel Kremer eye to eye. Kremer then looks to CMS Mathias and gives the order.
Kremer: "Count us off Wesley."
CMS Mathias nods.
Mathias: "In the front lean and rest position...."
Kremer steadies himself, something that completely confuses Sean Jackson.
Mathias: "Move"
Kremer snaps into a straight line, his head pointing towards Sean Jackson, his eyes directly into Sean's eyes. Kremer's legs and feet straight back. Again, a straight line which again, confuses the Mental Rapist.
Sean backs off and stands straight up, still confused.
Jackson: "Whoa, what kind of bullshit is this?"
Kremer goes back to his knees, now smiling.
Kremer: "Military pushups Mr. Jackson. Straight line, four count pushups. Chief Master Sergeant Mathias is going to count them off."
Jackson: (annoyed) "I can count to fifty"
Kremer: "No Mr. Jackson, four count pushups. SGT. Williams, show Mr. Jackson what a four count pushup looks like."
Williams: "Yes sir"
SGT. Williams doesn't even bother to take her Class A jacket off. She immediately goes down into the front lean and rest position in which a few dozen other airmen, both male and female follow suit. CMS Mathias then comes out with another command that further confuses Jackson.
Mathias: "In Cadence...."
Slight pause.
Mathias: "Exercise...."
While Sean looks on, he sees something that he's never seen before.
Mathias: "1"
Everyone goes down, mere inches from the floor, shoulders completely parrallel with the floor.
Mathias: "2"
Everyone comes back up, in the exact same location where they first started.
Mathias: "3"
Back to mere inches from the floor, picture perfect military pushups.
Mathias: "4"
Once again, back to the starting point.
Mathias: "Recover"
However, instead of recovering to the at ease position. Every airmen calls out in unison...
"MORE PT CHIEF MASTER SERGEANT, MORE PT."
Mathias: "1,2,3,4...."
"2"
Mathias: "1,2,3,4...."
"3"
Mathias: "1,2,3,4..."
"4"
As CMS Mathias continues to count em off, Kremer calls out to Jackson, who is just watching it all take place around him.
Kremer: "Come on Jackson, get your ass down here and let me show you how WE DO IT."
Forcing a smile, a fake smile at that, Sean reaches over and retrieves his top from Vanessa. Hiding his embarrassment, he starts to walk away but making sure to get one last parting shot in.
Jackson: "Not in a $10,000 suit I'm not."
As Sean continues to walk away, Colonel Kremer smiles.
Kremer: "Sure, that's the reason.
***********************************************
Later in a St. Louis hotel, Sean Jackson can't help but think back to that site, dozens of airmen doing those picture perfect four count pushups. He could do it, he knows he can. But you know what, fuck em...
Jackson: "Was that supposed to impress me? Well, it didn't. Four count pushups, just a dumbass way to count two pushups. That's all they do in the military, they brain wash the weak into not being able to think for themselves, turning them into some kind of weekend robots. Well, I'm in the business of professional wrestling and can care less about those who can't think for themselves."
Sean stands and makes his way towards the balcony over looking the St. Louis skyline. Off in the distance he can see the arch, the gateway to the west illuminated against the night sky.
Jackson: "Besides, those were air force personnel and everyone knows that they are as weak as the navy. I would have much rather gone to an army base where they know how to do proper pushups."
Sean again forces a smile.
Jackson: "I bet Drake Green even does those pussy ass four count pushups."
He shudders.
Jackson: "My God, I bet he does. He probably does em with knee pads on so he can feel more like those ham and eggers that he calls fans. Maybe that was the reason why Jamie Dean helped him, the knee pads...
He stops himself, it was now making sense. Of course.
Jackson: "Well there won't be any Jamie Dean's there to save Drake this Sunday. Despayre and Big B will have their hands full with Andrew and Ivan, leaving that walking and talking fake of a champion to fend for himself."
Inhale.exhale
Jackson: "Oh yes, I have all of the incentive in the world to beat up on good ole Drake. He's been running around long enough with a title belt that he didn't deserve and by destroying him once again this Sunday, I get to correct two wrongs perpetrated against me."
He had a level of understanding, an understanding on why Hot Stuff Mark Ward brought him into Sin City Wrestling. Just as he had an understanding on why Ward brought him into Hot Stuff International. It was about the ACW world heavyweight title, it was about the SCW heavyweight title that Drake now had in his possession. Well, Sean had failed Mark Ward and HSI once, he wasn't planning on doing it a second time.
Jackson: "The SCW heav....."
A heavy knock on the door interrupts Sean's thought process as he shoots a glance towards the noise. His first thought is of Marshall Owens standing in the hallway, but that is quickly dispelled by the fact that Marshall never knocks that heavy, and of course it isn't Marshall's voice that follows the knocking.
voice: "Mr. Jackson?"
Not recognizing the voice, Sean does make his way towards the door. But, not before attempting to identify who is standing on the other side.
Jackson: "Who wants to know?"
voice: "Sir, I'm an aid to Colonel Kremer and I've been instructed to bring you a message."
Jackson: "An apology. It's about time."
As Sean opens the door, he sees an air force non commissioned officer standing in the hallway, in full Class A uniform. Without saying another word, the man hands Sean an envelope, does an abrupt right face and begins making his way down the hallway.
Jackson: "Hmff"
As Sean scoffs, he backs into his room and shuts the door behind him. Without hesitation, he rips open the envelope and takes out the hand witten letter addressed specifically from Colonel Kremer.
It reads.
Mr. Jackson, you let an armani suit become an excuse for not being able to back up your mouth. Well, I have a solution for that. A military shuttle will be in front of your hotel at 0400 hours, which is 4am in the morning for you civilians. Be on it. It will take you to an army base called Ft. Leonard Wood. Once there, I WILL teach you a lesson in humility.
Colonel Kyle J. Kremer
USAF
Once again, Sean scoffs.
Jackson: "Your funeral old man, your funeral."
Fade.
