A New beginnin' in whoopin' ass for The Drunk One
A New beginnin' in whoopin' ass for The Drunk One
(The scene opens and we find ourselves…inside a police station? Oh no, I got a bad feeling about this one. Actually, we’re in state police headquarters. The place is mayhem. People running around to get things done. Phones ringing off the hook. An officer escorting criminals in from time to time. Other officers and detectives working on cases and trying to figure things out. You get the idea. Anyway, the front door to the station swings open, and look at who it is…it’s Jack Daniels. Daniels, with a bottle of Old No.7 in hand and all, has made his way to state police headquarters. One can only wonder why. Daniels walks in and looks around. He obviously doesn’t know whom to approach for whatever reason he’s in there for. Suddenly, an officer is walking by as Daniels tries to stop him and talk to him…)
Jack Daniels: Excuse me, I need to talk to someone…
(The officer just keeps on walking, looking down at his paper work without even acknowledging Daniels. How rude. Daniels turns and sees someone else…)
Jack Daniels: Hey, can ya tell me where I need to go to…
(They also just ignore Daniels, caught up in this hectic time of day. Daniels can’t believe it, as now he’s a little more aggressive and direct, as a man decked out in a suit goes walking by, most likely a detective or undercover cop. Daniels grabs him by the arm to stop him and speaks…)
Jack Daniels: Now that I got your attention, do ya mind tellin’ this drunken bastard where he needs to go to get some help ‘round here?
Cop: Yeah, there’s a school about two or three blocks down. They hold AA meetings about three or four times a week. (walks off)
Jack Daniels: Oh yeah, that’s right. Jack Daniels forgot ya had top get back to your coffee and donuts. Sorry to bother your pig ass. Damn 5-0’s ‘round here just don’t give two drops of monkey piss ‘bout anythin’.
Voice: Hey, I know you.
(The voice is heard coming from another direction. Daniels turns to see somewhat of a young looking man behind a desk. The man is gawking at Daniels as if he’s just seen Britney Spears naked. Daniels looks at this kid and speaks…)
Jack Daniels: Who the hell are ya kid?
Man: You’re Jack Daniels. Wow, I can’t believe you’re standing right here. (snaps out of his spell) Oh, my father is a Sargent for the state police. Hopefully, one day I will follow his foot steps and take his place.
Jack Daniels: Really? Then maybe ya can help this drunken bastard...
Man: Sure, anything for the former NEWF Heavyweight Champion.
Jack Daniels: (sighs) Must ya kid?
Man: Oh, sorry…
Jack Daniels: Anyway, ya see Jack Daniels has to fight this criminal this Monday night. And it ain’t right.
Man: Why do you think that it isn’t right?
Jack Daniels: Hell, for one the sorry sunuva bitch has killed his own brother Smirt. He can’t be out on the loose competin’ in the squared circle.
Man: Actually, he didn’t. Smirt is still alive. He appeared in a wheelchair at Detonation during Marcus Hailey’s graveyard match. So technically, he didn’t.
Jack Daniels: Whatever. Ok then, he killed my stablemate, Haywood Jublome.
Man: NO! (laughs) Sorry, I couldn’t resist. Actually, you’re wrong there too. All we saw is the two men fall into that hole in the ground. And then we saw Marcus Hailey rise up out of it. We have no proof of Hailey killing Haywood. And we don’t even have a body for crying out loud. Are you afraid of fighting him or something?
Jack Daniels: Look jackass, this drunken bastard ain’t afraid of nuttin’ or no one. Ya see, Jack Daniels is thinkin’ ‘bout the people out there. He’s thinkin’ ‘bout all the fans and all of his drunkaholics bein’ in danger’s way. I mean, who the fuck know what this bastard is gonna do next. Ya gotta take this sunuva bitch off the streets.
Man: Look, we can’t just lock him up just because you think he’s a threat to some people. We need a reason.
Jack Daniels: Ya want a reason, aight, here’s a reason. The sorry motherfucker is five matches deep into his damn career. And he’s getting’ a singles match against The Drunk One? I mean this bastard is getting’ the push of a lifetime just cuz he’s brother is Smirtdogg. That’s fucking insane…and it’s fuckin’ bullshit.
Man: Well, there ain’t nothing we can do about it. Sorry Jack, I swish I could help you.
Jack Daniels: Yeah, you’re sorry alright…sorry motherfucker. Looks like Jack Daniels is gonna have to do this one all by his drunken self.
(Daniels walks out of the police station and onto the street. He begins walking down the street as he takes a swig from his bottle of Old No.7 and then begins speaking…)
Jack Daniels: Overrated…rip-off…ugly sunuva bitch. Those are the first words that come to this drunken mind when he hears the name Marcus Hailey. I mean the sorry bastard thinks he’s the greatest thing since sliced bread. But that’s where he’s wrong. Cuz the fact of the matter is he ain’t shit…and quite frankly, he never will be. Now stop your bitchin’ Hailey, cuz this drunken bastard can hear ya already. (Imitating Hailey with a whining type of voice) "But I beat Haywood in a Graveyard match. And I already beat Daniels in a tag match." (end of mocking) Ya see Hailey, that’s where you’re wrong bitch. Ya didn’t beat this drunken bastard. Jack Daniels beat Jack Daniels. Ya were just in the right place at the right time. It’s as simple as that. But ya seem to have a problem with takin’ credit for things, like killin’ your brother Smirt. And the sorry truth is, that everyone and their mamma believed ya. Until Detonation, when Smirtdogg rolled up in a wheelchair and proved your ass wrong. Ya didn’t kill. And ya didn’t beat Jack Daniels.
Goin’ back to Smirt for a second…I mean how can ya honestly sit in DFR’s headquarters wihtout shittin’ in your orange jumpshit just knowin’ that ya failed to get the job done with your brother…and know he’s back…back for revenge. What ya think your shit don’t stink? Hell, I couldn’t bare sittin’ through that pathetic attempt at an interview the stench was so fuckin’ bad. Ya see Hailey, ya got it all wrong. Jack Daniels…Jack Daniels is back on track and back on top of his game. So this drunken bastard lost his title…SO FUCKIN’ WHAT?! Is it the end of the world? No, that day ain’t comin’ until the Jack Daniel’s distillery runs dry. Ya see, this drunken bastard did his job and he did it damn well. He won that title and defended it nearly each and every week. Jack Daniels built that title into what it is. Your drunken hero brought respect to that title…brought a sense of greatness to that title…he brought virtue to that title. And he made it the most wanted prize in this industry. Somethin’ ya will never be able to do Hailey, but your brother could. Yeah, you’re brother could Hailey. Ya know, it’s so damn obvious that your mindset is nowhere near our match Marcus. Jack Daniels knows that when ya close your eyes to go to sleep, all ya see are nightmares of Smirt getting’ his revenge on ya. Hell, actually those are sweet dreams if ya ask this drunken bastard. Then ya wake up in a cold sweat and afraid to close your eyes ‘gain, cuz ya just never know when he’s gonna show up in front of ya. Hell Marcus, Smirt might even show up Monday night at Shockwave. As a matter of fact, Jack Daniels is bettin’ that he in fact does. And he’s goona get to Providence any which way he can. Hell, Jack Daniels might even give him a ride there. But once he gets there…once he shows up…tell me Hailey, what’cha gonna do? That’s what I thought…absolutely-fuckin’-nuttin. Y can’t sit there and tell Jack Daniels that you’re not the least bit worried ‘bout Smirt showin’ up Hailey, cuz we all know ya are…we can smell it.
(Daniels takes another swig from his bottle of Old No.7 and then continues to speak…)
Jack Daniels: Ya obviously got bigger problems than Jack Daniels right now Hailey. Shit, this drunken bastard was actually tryin’ to do ya a favor by reportin’ ya to the state police so they can lock ya up. Ya would have avoided two things that might have changed your life forever. First ya would have avoided your brother’s acts of revenge and two…the ass whoopen that Jack Daniels has in store for ya Monday night. So ya should consider Jack Daniels tryin’ to report your criminal ass to he state police as a favor, and not an act of cowardness. Ya see, Jack Daniels doesn’t sit back and throw darts at a picture like Haiely does. Jack Daniels doesn’t sit here and bury his head all up in somebody’s ass, like Hailey does with Grady. Yeah Marcus, we all know Grady beat this drunken bastard for his title the other night, after he failed the first time. But what does that do for ya Hailey? How does that benefit ya? It doesn’t do jack shit for ya. Yet ya sit back and that’s all ya can seem to squeeze outta your ass that ya call a mouth. Grady is the champ and Marcus…hell, he’s still the same sorry motherfucker with Grady’s ass hairs for a mustache, that can’t seem to shut the fuck up.
That’s ‘nother thing this drunken bastard noticed ‘bout ya. Ya claim to hate your brother so damn much. Hell, ya even killed him, or at least ya tried. Ya couldn’t stand the fact that Kelvin was bigger than ya. Ya couldn’t stand the fact that Kelvin was makin’ a name for himself, while ya were rottin’ behind bars. Yet, ya seem to emulate him so damn well Marcus. Just what is Jack Daniels talkin’ ‘bout? Well let’s see, ya steal his patented moves and rename ‘em. Ya both seem to have a case of diarrhea of the mouth. And ya obviously, have just as big, if not bigger, ego than your brother did. Ya wanna be just as big, if not bigger, than your brother just to show him up. Just to prove to him that ya are better. Not cuz ya want to or cuz ya desire to. Just to upstage him. That is so typical of Smirt, and now you’re just bein’ lured into the same mindset. Hell, maybe all of this just runs in the family…I don’t know. But what Jack Daniels does know is, that this is the beginnin’ of the end for both your sorry ass, and your other little butt buddies in "Dicks For Real". Ya see Hailey, this drunken bastard has worked too damn hard…for too fuckin’ long to let some piece of pathetic horse shit like Hailey to walk into my ring…walk into MY FUCKIN’ RING…and beat this drunken bastard at his OWN FUCKIN’ GAME! Ya see Marcus, cuz once Jack Daniels hands ya your criminal ass in a fuckin’ brown paper bag, then Your Drunken Hero will be well on his way to doin’ what would hurt ya the most Marcus. And that’s whoopin’ Grady’s ass to within an inch of his pathetic life, and leave him layin’ there so he and ya Hailey, could both witness this drunken bastard takin’ his title…and his career. Ya see, cuz as much as ya kiss his ass Marcus…is how bad Jack Daniels is gonna kick it.
And as much as this drunken bastard would love to put a quick end to your short, pathetic career…I think I’ll leave that for someone else. Don’t get Jack Daniels wrong now Hailey, he will whoop your ass and he will whoop it ‘nuff to beat ya in the middle of my ring. But Jack Daniels is gonna leave just ‘nuff of ya left, no not for your brother Smirt…but for my man Haywood to finish off. Cuz we are…SIMPLY THE BEST! And Jack Daniels will SIMPLY WHOOP YOUR ASS!
(Daniels takes a swig from his bottle of Old No.7 as he continues walking. He wipes his mouth and then continues to speak…)
Hmmm…I wonder what ever happened too…wait a damn second, this drunken bastard remembers where they are. If the Rhode Island State Police can’t take care of this situation…than Jack Daniels will. Where’s there a phone ‘round here?
(Daniels walks a little more and spots a payphone. He walks over to it. Who is Jack Daniels calling? What could the drunken bastard be thinking? Will we find out before Shockwave? Scene fades to black…)