December 31, 2015
Duke Ranch outside of Dallas, Texas
Welcome to the home of Sean and Pamela Jackson. A large 48,000 square foot mansion on the Duke Ranch just outside of Dallas, Texas. With a reported building cost of $46 million dollars, the daughter of Oil Tycoon Cameron Duke finally moved into the dream home with her husband and ten year old son.
The three story home with cathedral ball on top made people green with envy, it gave Sean and Pamela bragging rights for the largest and most expensive home in the state of Texas, surrounded by Zoysia sod grass imported specifically from Korea.
Directly in front of the mansion was a long marble driveway that ran from one side of the home to another, both which run into two more driveways that extend from the back of the mansion, along either side approximately two hundred yards to another two marble driveways that extends to a full moon shaped circle drive which leads to the mansion owned by Cameron Duke.
In between the two driveways directly in front of the mansion was a fish pond and fountain that lit up at night, charged with shining on the large Texas flag hanging on it's pole.
While the camera focused on the fountain and flag pole, the sound of tires rolling on the marble driveway gives cause for it to pan around to a Rolls Royce coming to the mansion. The vehicle turns onto the circle drive and upon stopping in front, the uniformed driver exits and opens the back door.
Stepping out in an expensive tailor made Italian suit, Sean Jackson and his attorney Marshall Owens make their way up the steps and enter the house.
Jackson: "So what do you think Marshall?"
The attorney is at a loss for words. He had just walked into a home valued at $46 million dollars and sitting on 140 acres of the Duke Ranch just outside of Dallas.
Owens: "I..uh..wow."
When the floor plans were initially drawn up, the attorney knew that building this thing was going to be a long and drawn out task, but never in his wildest dreams could he imagine it would be this huge. A private lake was installed on the property along with a pool and pool house, and tennis court.
Jackson: "Yeah, Pamela has a thing for French architecture. She got the inspiration from a grand chateau we visited near Paris and well..."
As they enter, Marshall's jaw thuds to the floor. The six bedroom, six full and eight half-bath main house takes his breath away. In the middle of the room is a staircase made up of gold and maroon steps leading to a second floor inner balcony with dark railing.
Marshall is dumb-founded, the entire room appears to be made of ivory, with a sporadic mixture of expensive furniture and openings to adjacent rooms.
Jackson: "What Pamela wants, Pamela gets."
Upon noticing Marshall's reaction, the Internet Champion smiles and motions towards the staircase.
Jackson: "Come on, I'll show you the rest."
Following his client up the stairs, Marshall can feel his heart beating out of his chest. What he was looking at was unbelievable. No matter how many cases he took on, there would be no way he could get something like this as an attorney. But what made it more amazing is a professional wrestler now lived here. Of course it was because of Pamela's rich father, but the Mental Rapist had made a contribution to the cause by his multiple world championships in multiple companies...
His business sense also played a large role, whether Cameron Duke wanted to admit it or not.
Now on the second floor inner balcony, the two men continue forward as Marshall can barely contain himself.
Owens: "God damn Sean, all of this for just the three of you?"
The Dallas native nods.
Jackson: "This is what Pamela wants, and it makes sense. She has an inner pool to swim in when it is raining or cold, an outdoor pool when the weather is perfect. We can teach our son to play tennis on our own court, can bowl on our own lanes, and the property is walled off..."
Sean points towards the front of the residence.
Jackson: "Hell, even the yard is fenced in. Face it Marshall, this gives my family everything they've ever wanted and I get to keep them safe. You couldn't ask for a better place to live."
It made sense to Marshall. When an individual has a lot of money, they have to do whatever it takes to keep themselves separated from leeches who live in our society.
Jackson: Matter of fact, on this floor we have a steam room, a weight room, and well..."
The Supremacy member starts walking towards the west wing with Marshall following suit. With a smile on his face, you can just imagine what he is about to show his attorney.
Jackson: "Hold on to your lunch because what I'm about to show you is simply amazing."
Within moments the two are walking through a set of double doors and are looking at a lobby to a theatre room.
Jackson: "Our pride and joy."
Now it was just overkill at this point.
Owens: "Is this what I think it is?"
The Dallas native nods.
Jackson: "Yes Marshall, our very own theatre. We can watch whatever we want in here, without having to deal with a rude and obnoxious public. We can pick and choose our guests and you can't get better than that."
The Internet Champion points upstairs.
Jackson: "You think that's something, upstairs we have a ballroom with two different powder rooms for the men and women. Downstairs is a fifteen car garage and..."
Marshall's head is spinning. Okay, $46 million dollars is $46 million dollars and so far, he has only seen a small part of what that money actually paid for.
Owens: "Sean..."
The interruption is enough to get the Mental Rapist to stop talking.
Owens: "I get it, you are proud of this place and you should be. But a person could get lost in here, and personally, I think this is a bit much for just three people..."
The Dallas native is proud of the place, and like Marshall said, he is supposed to be. But it is what they wanted, it is what Pamela wanted, and what Pamela wants, Pamela gets. However, what Marshall didn't know is that the Jackson family had a full compliment of staff to man the duties of running this huge home and the grounds surrounding it.
Jackson: Come on Marshall, the kid isn't going to get lost and neither are the rest of us. We have a full time staff and there will always be people here. Matter of fact, in that ballroom I can do interviews, press conferences, you name it."
Owens: "Interviews?"
Jackson: "Absolutely."
An interesting thought crosses the mind of Marshall Owens.
Owens: "Episodes of a Sitdown with Sean Jackson?"
The Internet Champion raises his hand and begins stroking his chin. Now that was an interesting thought. Instead of traveling to Las Vegas or another part of the country to do his shows, it could possibly be done upstairs in the ballroom.
Jackson: "Well, there's one way to find out."
Moments later...
The two are seated in director type chairs, still inside the theatre. Even though the initial decision was to attempt an impromptu interview in the ballroom, a change was made to stay inside of the theatre because of the large movie screen behind them. After clearing his throat, Marshall begins.
Owens: "You know, I do believe this will be a better setting."
Briefly scanning the room, Sean nods in agreement.
Jackson: "Yeah, I think you're right."
Getting that out of the way, Marshall dives right on in.
Owens: "Sean, on November 24th...Ms. Pussy Willow hosted her weekly show in which she discussed your upcoming opponent Goth."
The Dallas native cocks his head to the side, impressed with the start. A somewhat predictable start, but impressive none the less.
Owens: "And during that weekly show, she used an interview that was conducted on the 15th of November in which some interesting things was mentioned. It is those comments made by Goth that I want to touch on."
Sean nods his head, motioning for Marshall to bring it. And for Marshall, it is challenge accepted. Taking out his cell phone, the attorney goes to youtube and immediately finds the video of the show. As he begins to play the video on his phone, technology takes over and the large screen behind them comes to life and the video is played there as well. It is a backstage interview where Goth is talking about his successful title defense and continues until the end. Once that moment occurs, the video screen goes black.
Owens: "Overall impression?"
The Mental Rapist smirks.
Jackson: "Goth is lost, point black. He is Captain Smith going down with the Titanic, unable to see the iceberg bearing down on him. For some reason he believes that Raab and Samuel will be able to save him from Drake Green, from Travis Nathaniel Andrews, and me...."
He reaches off screen and grabs his Internet Championship, draping it over his shoulder.
Jackson: "Even though we hold all the gold. Now don't get me wrong, Goth is clearly the member of the Monstimals with the most talent, but that doesn't relate to success against the Supremacy which is the reason he is no longer the Roulette Champion."
So far so good.
Owens: "During his interview with Willow, Goth made some interesting comments about Drake Green. I believe it went something along the lines of, Drake was upset this and Drake only shows up that."
Again Sean strokes his chin, taking it all in.
Owens: "Drake doesn't want to be disrespcted this, and Drake calls himself the Showstopper that..."
Finally, the Dallas native chimes in.
Jackson: "With all due respect Marshall, as I stated before, Goth is delusional. First off, there is nothing that Goth can do to make Drake upset about anything. He is a Hollywood star as well as a professional star, and Goth had better be respectful of that fact. Secondly, for that reason Drake Green has the right to take time off when needed because you can't compare what he does to what Goth does."
The Mental Rapist adjusts in his chair, really getting into this interview setting.
Jackson: "Drake calls himself the Showstopper because that is exactly what he does. The man has been on top of the wrestling business for years and has the respect of not only Mark Ward and TNA, but myself included. When Drake defends his championship, it is against quality competition and not a bunch of tin cans. Which is the reason Drake now has the World Heavyweight Championship and the Roullette Championship while Goth has nothing."
Marshall gives that fair enough nod and once again goes to his phone. There is a second part to the video, an interview that took place in a Cancun hotel room on the 26th of November. As that video begins to play, again the big screen behind them comes to life. They both sit intently watching the video until Goth's wife enters the room, wearing a skimpy outfit. Of course the outfit causes Goth to lose his concentration and that is just the ammo the Internet Champion needs.
Jackson: "Look at that slut, no respect for herself or Goth."
That prompts Marshall to pause the video, where the camera is specifically on the wife.
Jackson: "But I guess that is to be expected from trash. Here Goth is conducting an interview with Ms. Willow, and Ms. Street Whore comes out and basically screams for everyone to look at her."
Leaning towards the big screen, Sean points at her.
Jackson: "But I guess that's to be expected because look who her husband associates with? He spends all his time with two men that play hide the vienna sausage, and neither of which has an ounce of wrestling ability. Which is probably the reason he doesn't correct the problem immediately, because none of them have any respect for themselves."
Yeah, that won't go over well in the Goth household.
Jackson: "Take my wife Pamela for instance. She knows you are here, she knows we are probably conducting business and if she walked in this room right now, she would be dressed in a professional manner. As the wife of a multiple time world heavyweight champion, she knows how to show respect for herself and me. She knows how to keep from being an embarrassment to our son..."
Sean pauses, allowing those words to sink in.
Jackson: "Which is obviously something that trollip knows nothing about. You know, I'm gagging as we speak, please start the video so she can hopefully exit the room."
As instructed, Marshall unpauses it. As the video plays, there are certain times when Sean looks deep in thought, others where he is almost laughing. The contrast in emotions isn't lost on Marshall who says nothing, waiting the second part to end. Once it does, Marshall again turns to his client.
Owens: "Opinions?"
Jackson: "On what? The video or Goth?"
Owens: "Both."
Pfft, he asked for it.
Jackson: "The video was boring and Goth was still delusional. The fact he honestly believed that there was a chance against Drake was laughable at best. There wasn't a scenario imaginable that could have helped him. Drake is one of the top three stars in this business alongside Travis and myself, which means Goth would stand no chance at all against us. But as with all delusional people, he will take an ass whipping this Sunday night and still believe he can win."
There is that million dollar smirk again.
Jackson: "Which is quite pathetic if you ask me."
Marshall attempts to say something, but the Internet Champion beats him to the punch.
Jackson: "I noticed that Goth received some viewer questions from a couple of people, probably planted questions, but questions none the less. Like the one asked by Mary..."
It was a question regarding Goth's eyesight.
Jackson: "Of all the questions she could have asked, she's going to ask about his eyesight?"
Sean shakes his head.
Jackson: "Hey Mary, the dumb bastard is blind already. But not to worry, after I crack his skull open with a devastating high knee, being blind will be the least of his worries."
Marshall picks up on the direction that Sean wants to go, and follows it up with the next question during that interview.
Owens: "That was good Sean. Okay, how about the question from Keith about who was Goth's toughest opponent?"
Jackson: "Again, delusional. Goth's toughest opponents have been the ones in his head, that being the Supremacy. At December 2 Dismember Drake Green beat him from pillar to post, and come this Sunday night, I am going to finish the job."
Giving the cut symbol with a finger across the throat, Sean gives every indication that he has grown tired of the videos. Now if they were watching a well-crafted Hollywood version of a Drake Green interview, or something from TNA, then that would be different. But because it wasn't Supremacy related, he was no longer showing interest.
Jackson: "Marshall, do me a favor and never show that crap again. Had I known it was that bad, I would have never let it go on my big screen."
The Mental Rapist looks back at his movie screen.
Jackson: "Now I need to replace the damn thing."
Owens: "You don't need to replace anything Sean, it..."
Jackson: "Don't tell me that garbage Marshall, I had to watch that crap on my movie screen and from here on out, every time I watch anything in here, I will see that Pussy Willow and Goth bullshit."
Covering his face with his hand, Sean leans back in his chair, fighting back the disgust. Marshall attempts to console his client, but is unable.
Jackson: "God damn it Marshall, stop with the Dr. Phil routine already."
Wait, that's not how this was supposed to go. The Internet Champion is supposed to be calm, cool and collected. But instead, he's in his own theatre about to blow a gasket. That is until he sneaks a peak at that championship belt on his shoulder. Yes championship gold is always the cure all.
Jackson: "You know Marshall, you are right, forget the screen. I'm not going to let some nutjob ruin our very first impromptu interview, in this $46 million dollar mansion."
Owens: "Well, we could just edit it."
Jackson: "Edit it?"
Marshall nods.
Owens: "Sure, edit it. We can edit out the video, just like it never happened."
The Dallas native starts to give the idea some serious thought. On one side, it consists of ripping down a very expensive movie screen and scrubbing the entire theatre, or act like the incident never took place.
Jackson: "Edit it huh?"
Owens: "Yeah, it is real easy to do. All you need to do is..."
Or just go with option three. Without warning, the movie screen begins to raise and behind it is a newer screen a more expensive screen. Once the old screen is out of the way, the movie projector begins to play the waning moments of the main event at December 2 Dismember III.
Stepping into the picture is the Vietnamese vixen Vanessa and she is holding a remote for the movie screen.
Owens: "Replace the screen."
Both Marshall and Sean share a good laugh as Vanessa stands behind them, her back to the screen. Yes, it was a gag from start to finish as it is obvious the plan was put into place well before showing the video display of Goth. But hey, at least it gave Sean the platform to toss a few insults at Goth's wife.
Jackson: "Like I would waste a brand new screen on you and your tramp of a wife. If I wanted to burn cash, I would take a zippo lighter to a hundred dollar bill like I did Raab. But fortunately for me, I didn't like the cheap screen that was in here and yesterday afternoon..."
Sean reaches into his pocket and takes out a thick clip of one hundred dollar bills.
Jackson: "I threw a few of these down and got a screen more to my liking. A screen worthy enough for this..."
He stops talking in time to watch the events unfolding on the new screen. The movie shows Drake dropping Goth with a double underhook implant DDT.
Jackson: "A show worthy enough for multiple Oscar Awards."
As Sean is still seated, clapping his hands, on the movie screen is Mark Ward unzipping his jacket to reveal the referee shirt.
Jackson: "Best picture, definitely the best picture I've seen all year. So many plot twists..."
Followed by Sean and Travis taking down Raab and Samuel. With the Monstimals down, Drake rolls Goth over on his back and the three count from Mark Ward is anticlimactic.
The Internet Champion springs to his feet, clapping louder and faster than before.
Jackson: "BRAVO, BRAVO. BEST PICTURE EVER!!!"
He is clapping so hard, he has to catch the belt before it falls off his shoulder. The smile on his face is huge, it is so contageous that even Vanessa cracks a small one.
Jackson: "Best picture, best man, best supporting cast. It all belongs us, just as the world belongs to us. That's right Goth, it all belongs to us. You and your merry band of goof balls had your fifteen seconds of shame and now..."
That's right people, there's a new power in SCW.
Jackson: "Now, it is time to show how a real power controls the world of professional wrestling. You see, we don't wear crappy clothing and associate with tramps. We wear expensive suits, we drive expensive cars, and we don't carry anything less than the Benjamins my hobo looking friend."
The Mental Rapist reaches into his pocket and takes out another clip, this time filled with gold standard credit cards. As he starts to slip them from the clip, he tosses them nonchalantly over his shoulder managing to miss Vanessa with most of them.
Jackson: "I bet I've got more of these, than you have money in your pocket. I could lose them all and it wouldn't faze me a bit. If I ran out of cash, I could step into any bank in this world and walk out with enough cash to survive..."
He is pouring it on thick, really thick.
Jackson: "On my signature alone."
The camera pans in real tight on his face, the reason? He has an important piece of information to distribute.
Jackson: "Or better yet, have the resources to find someone who closely resembles me. Buy that individual's way into the backstage area, and get him on the ring crew. Then at the right moment, slip under the ring and wait for his moment to strike..."
The smile disappears and is replaced with a far more devious expression.
Jackson: "That's right Goth, I was the one who concocted twin magic. I found the guy, I got him in, and then I screwed some people over. But when you have all the money, all the belts, and all the power, you can do whatever the hell you want to do. Which leads me to this Sunday night in Las Vegas..."
With 2015 drawing to a close, one has to wonder what this means for 2016.
Jackson: "Just what kind of tricks will I have up my sleeve? Will I re-introduce twin magic? Will I pay someone to take you out before the match even begins? Oh yeah Goth, in Las Vegas there's a lot of people down on their luck. Losing their homes, their cars..."
Dramatic pause.
Jackson: "Their family."
Raab wanted to see a monster? Well now he will get to see one, but at Goth's expense.
Jackson: "Believe me Goth, I wouldn't be above putting a bounty on your head. Hell, I bet there are people in Vegas who would do just about anything for five thousand dollars.
He looks back down at the clip of hundred dollar bills and has an epiphany. In that clip IS five thousand dollars. Imagine that.
Jackson: "Matter of fact, it will be the best investment I ever made. It will be like taking candy from a baby, just like taking a Roulette Championship from a coward, just like taking the manhood from a little bitch set on fire. Your fifteen seconds of fame is over Goth, it was over the moment Raab called me out..."
Another pause.
Jackson: "You were just too blind to see it. Isn't that right Mary from Detroit, Michigan?"
The Mental Rapist turns to face his attorney.
Jackson: "You like what I did there?"
Marshall nods, taking note to the connection with Goth's blurred vision.
Jackson: "I thought you would. Now then, I'm done wasting my free time on that nobody. I've got more important things to do, like tweeting my good friends in Vegas."
He flashes that money clip one final time.
Jackson: "Giving them five thousand reasons to be there."
_______________________________
"Goth, I hate delivering bad news but, you are on the wrong side of the war. You find yourself worrying about all the wrong things, accepting wins that mean nothing, while not realizing that the losses are the biggest killers of them all. You were fed a tag team victory in a match that meant absolutely nothing. When you and Alexis beat Drake and Lyah, the only one who crowed about it was you. Did you notice how nonchalant Drake was? Did you even care?"
"Of course you didn't, you were blinded by a cheap win, not understanding the fine art of war that Drake, Travis, Mark and I utilize. We understand what it takes to take an opponent out of his element, off his game, in order to make the battle easier to win."
"All we have to do is play the distraction card. Maybe screw Raab and Samuel a bit more in the tag ranks, use it to cause a bit of friction, to frustrate them in order to keep you occupied. Because that is what men of power do, is it not? But it doesn't have to be that way Goth, not at all. Sapphira won't have to be glued to the television, or the monitor, worrying if I take the eyesight from you. Come on Goth, are you really going to put your wife thru that? Forcing her to wait on you hand and foot, to watch you struggle inside your own darkness, becoming less of a man with every passing second."
"Can you imagine her life Goth? Putting everything on hold because she's afraid to leave you by yourself? But you are a selfish son of a bitch now aren't you? Of course you are, because you will force her to stand in front of the world, professing her love in order not to be judged in the court of public opinion."
"But it isn't about her now is it? If it isn't about Goth, then it should be eighty-sixed, am I right? Of course I'm right because unless my memory is wrong, you got the world heavyweight title shot by working with Mr. Ward. Then when that shot was granted, you went back to being all Monstimals. Well Goth, that is the reason you guys have nothing, and we are in total control."
"Like Sapphira has said on numerous occasions, you know the career is coming to an end. So you are willing to sacrifice everything to become the world heavyweight champion. You will sacrifice your wife, you will sacrifice the Monstimals, you will even sacrifice your life for that one moment of glory, to raise the SCW World Heavyweight Championship in 2016. Well again, it won't happen because you are on the wrong side of the war. You chose loyalties to some dream, to a couple of idiots named Raab and Samuel, rather than the brains of this operation, Mark Ward."
_______________________________________
December 31, 2015
A few hours before midnight
The mansion was buzzing with excitement. On the outside, hundreds of lights with different setting and sizes adorned the marble driveways while inside, family and friends prepared to ring in the new year. The outside balcony on the third floor was also lit up with light fixtures and holiday decorations, making the mansion visible for miles.
On the first floor, in the main room stood Cameron Duke, the oil tycoon father of Pamela Duke-Jackson. The running feud which had existed between himself and his son-in-law Sean Jackson had been going on for years, but put on hold for this one night...
For Pamela.
Holding a glass of champagne, Cameron soaked in the wonders of the mansion knowing that his wealth indirectly helped in its creation. His eyes light up on the approach of his daughter as she is wearing a very conservative dress that is appropriate for the occasion.
Once at her father's side, she gives him a kiss on the cheek.
Pamela: "Thank you for coming daddy. It really means a lot to see you here."
Loving your daughter means doing something you wouldn't normally do. Yes, he hated Sean Jackson with a passion, but he loved his daughter more. So if tolerating him for one night would make her happy, then so be it.
Cameron: "I wouldn't have missed this for the world."
In The background, Sean could only smile. There was the great Cameron Duke, standing face to face with his daughter, not knowing of the plan the Internet Champion had in the works.
Jackson: "It will be like taking candy from a baby."
fin.
