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Post by Laura Phoenix - HBIC on Aug 8, 2020 20:37:13 GMT -5
Tuesday Night Riot Las Vegas, NV August 18th, 2020 Opening Qualifying Matches: Jack Russow v Alexander King RPs due by Sunday, August 16th, 2020 by 11:59pm Eastern Recommended 300 minimum 5000 maximum Segments for the show due Monday, August 17th at 11:59pm
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Post by Jack Russow on Aug 16, 2020 17:23:04 GMT -5
Alanah: I won’t be long, love...
“I write songs about you all the time… ...I bet I don’t run through your mind.”
(Jack sits in the hallway of PWS playing tug of war with little Pip as people pass by...Jack watches Alanah walk off in the distance. He knows, without a shadow of a doubt, she’s all he’ll ever need. But a hungering pang still remains in the back of his heart. Pip nips playfully at his hands as the song continues playing in his head.)
“It's 4 AM… and you're keeping me from closing these sleepy eyes. Does the thought of me keep you up at night? Like the light on the ceiling of your bedroom? Lately, my dog's the only one around that listens to my problems It's been a lonely year…”
(Jack pulls the ring he has for Alanah out of his pocket and holds it up to the light...the shine was starting to dimmer. When all of a sudden a hand walks up and snatches it out of the air...Jack is instantly on his feet ready to strike until he realizes...it’s his best friend and PWS World Champion, Mack McKane.
Mack McKane: ...pretty lil’ shiner, innit?
Jack Russow: Not now Mack…
Mack McKane: If not now, fuckin’ WHEN, kid!?
Jack Russow: She’s just got so much going on...planning Bella and Mal’s wedding. Prepping for her own big matches. Feeling like a mother bird hovering over Mattie all the time. And I get it man, I do. That’s MY girl. She’s a provider and a protector. I just…
Mack McKane: ...stone’ll never be big enough for what you think she deserves, innit?
Jack Russow: ...that obvious huh?
Mack McKane: Jackie boy...I don’t do this often. Might be ‘cause I”m not good at it, might be ‘cause I hate most people. But you...how do I say this. You’re the only bloke I ever met and didn’t wanna stab immediately.
Jack Russow: ...charmer.
Mack McKane: Point is...you’re in this weird-ass tournament thing, innit?
Jack Russow: I guess so...didn’t really have a say. Suppose it comes with the namesake.
Mack McKane: Then fuckin’...LIVE UP TO THE NAMESAKE!
Jack Russow: ...say what now?
(Mack unlatches the World Championship off his shoulder and slings it over Jack’s)
Mack McKane: You see THAT?
(Mack turns Jack around and kicks open a locker room door walking him up to a mirror...Pip skips along happily. Jack sees himself standing in the mirror with the PWS World Championship slung over his shoulder and even he had to admit...it looked good.)
Mack McKane: THAT title...was CUSTOM MADE to fit yer scrawny ass, innit! THAT title looks like it’s RIGHT at home...EXACTLY where it belongs! It weren't MEANT for me!
Jack Russow: I...I don’t hate it, that’s for sure.
(Mack whips Jack around to look him dead in the eye as he slowly takes the title off Jack’s shoulder and slings it over his own. Jack looks deadlocked on the title now until he meets Mack’s eyes.)
Mack McKane; Then come and bloody get it.
(Mack pats Jack on the cheek twice and turns to leave as Jack looks down at Pip who’s staring up at him with his big, beautiful, vacant eyes.)
Jack Russow; ...oh what, now YOU’RE gonna gimme the business?
(Pip barks happily as Jack reaches down and picks him up looking him in the face.)
Jack Russow: ...we got work to do, huh?
(Jack exits the locker room with Pip in arm as this part fades to black.)
-No Good-
“WHERE’S YOUR RESPECT!? AND DIDN’T YOUR FATHER TEACH YOU ANYTHING, BEFORE HE LEFT?”
(The scene opens and Jack is in full gear walking the empty seats of the stadium, some of which have been filled with actual circular fans, blow up dolls, various cleaning instruments with faces printed out and stuck over them.)
Jack Russow: ...y’know I knew deep down...that at some point in my life this was going to all be mine. THAT...was never in question. I am, after all, the Crowned Prince of PWS…
...the Punk That Was Promised.
(Jack slides into a chair beside a blow-up doll and slides his arm around it.)
Jack Russow: Hey...Jack Russow...how you doin’? You come here often?
(We can hear a voice from the top of the entrance ramp scream…)
“FOCUS!!!”
(Jack snaps back to attention and hops back up continuing his thoughts.)
Jack Russow: I can stand here all day...talking about how “unfair” it is to have a silver spoon in my mouth. I can bitch about how much “scrutiny” I come under for having the family I do. Will I measure up? Am I riding coattails? Save it. Save the bullshit. Save the accusations. Save your “dirt sheets” save your ‘spoilers” just save it all...crumble it into a ball...and shove it up your ass!!!
“GET MAD KID!!!”
Jack Russow: Oh I am! I’m fuckin’ FURIOUS! Not at the accusations, not at the speculations, no no! I’m furious at MYSELF! I’M furious that it’s taken me THIS long to get this kind of opportunity! Look, when you cop the Russow name, you cop the Russow arrogance. But it ain’t cocky if you back it up and hear me now when I tell you? I’m the best that’s come out of this family. And I have NO shame saying that. My father can’t match me for technical prowess, my Uncle Jesse can’t fly NEARLY as high as I can, and if Uncle Dan needs someone to get dirty and crazy with I’M number one on the speed dial now! You saw us induct my mother into the PWS Hall of Fame...AND my Aunt Cameron...AND my Uncle Nick! Only two of them may have been Russows but MY family...OWNED that Hall of Fame! And you think I don’t feel that pressure on my shoulders?
“Day after day, I face the wrath of what I've made But I never thought I could feel this way at 19!”
Jack Russow: And now you wanna feed me some slack-jawed “diamond thief” like he’s some sort of big deal? How the fuck is that knuckle-dragging simpleton NOT in jail already. He admits to his crimes like, EVERY time he’s on the screen! But that’s fine...I get to face “The King” eh? Bitch, you have no idea what being “The King” means. In THIS court, you’re just a jester about to get beheaded. Because I watched, I waited, and I calculated and you? You are NOTHING special. You’re NOT unique. You...are a flash-in-the-pan novelty act and I’m going to break you down and expose you for what you truly are. And then I’m going to that battle royal...ME...because I HAVE TO.
(Jack turns and slugs the protective barricade to unleash some anger as the entire arena jumps a bit. We see his father standing up on the entrance ramp starting to walk down with a look of concern on his face.)
Jack Russow: See I was stupid enough to think I had earned my place at the big kids dinner table when I won the SCW Roulette Championship from a legend like Griffin Hawkins. I foolishly thought that m You made me a made man, y’know! But OBVIOUSLY...I haven’t kicked enough ass or gone enough crazy so that brings me...to you. You might be “The King” or the “Blackhand of Wrestling”...whatever bullshit you wanna call yourself. But when you cross me? You cross the Ace of Spades. Don’t understand what that means? Let me give you a little history lesson, you thick-skulled neanderthal. See the spade started out as a symbol of luck...until the Vietnam war. Where they would mock the Vietnamese soldiers by leaving upon them the Ace of Spades from their playing deck. They would shower overthrown Vietnamese bases with them. So much that the American Playing Card Company started printing nothing BUT the Ace of Spades to shower over the jungles and encampments as one solitary, universal message…
...death was coming.
Jack Russow: It’s the highest card in the deck...the Ace of Spades is reserved for target number one. And if that’s how I have to pull myself up these Godless ranks, I’ll be your number one with a fuckin’ bullet, King. Because I might be a kid, but you haven’t seen the shit I’ve seen. I’ve seen kidnappings, I’ve BEEN kidnapped, I’ve been in explosions, I’ve seen my family RIPPED apart and sewn back together, I have been on Death’s doorstep so many times he told me the keys under the mat so when you ASK...if I am even REMOTELY afraid of some punk bitch named “Alexander” you can STAND...BEFORE GOD…
...AND GO FUCK YOURSELF.
(Jack turns and storms away past Levi who looks at the camera then back at Jack and gets a little smile on his face as we fade to black.)
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