Post by Jack Dempsey on Jun 16, 2019 16:19:27 GMT -5
Rite of Kings Bonus Footage
"Second Place"
The show was still going. The music was thumping as another wrestler headed towards the ring and the fans were cheering. All of this was muffled as Jack sat in his dressing room, for his night was over.
Jack had managed to finish second in his second match as a “professional” against a very respected and well known wrestler in Chris Callum. Placing second against a man like that was no small feat, yet Jack felt like he had been eliminated first.
Jack turned back to the bottle. It was rum and it was smooth. He pulled his t-shirt off and slung it to the side and took a long drag off of the rum. Cubana white rum. The kind of rum that gets you intoxicated before you even know it - by the time you feel it, you might not be able to walk.
Jack didn’t care - he just looked forward to the drunk.
He set the bottle down and started pulling the tape off of his right fist, then switched to the left fist. The tape didn’t make it to a trash can, it just fell haphazardly at his boots, before he pulled the bottle back up and put it to his lips.
Lizzy entered the room quietly behind him and stopped, gazing at Jack’s back. Over his left shoulder, running the length of his shoulder blade was a tattoo of an upturned dagger inside an arrowhead, with three lightning bolts running up the blade.
Without moving, Jack asked, “What do you want?”
She held her hands together at her waist, as if she were holding her own hand for comfort, detecting the hostility in the room. She took a step forward.
“Just wanted to check in.”
“Yeah?” he took another drag, “Well you checked, now you can go.” She took another step forward and Jack let out a raspy laugh, “If you’re staying, you’re drinking.”
He held the bottle out to her with his left hand, still not turning to face her. She took the bottle and inspected it. She knew the bottle was a problem, but decided to ignore it. She took a small sip from the bottle and shuddered as the liquid ran the length of her tongue before she swallowed. He slid over, giving her room to sit and she did. She handed the bottle back to him and he searched for his reflection in the glass and the silver aluminum label.
“You were pretty sloppy tonight,” she admitted, but he didn’t reply. “Are you always going to bring that,” she pointed at the bottle, “to the ring with you?”
He drained the bottle and winced as he eyeballed her, “Yes.”
She looked at her knees and shook her head, “If you focused and actually gave a shit, I’m scared of what you could accomplish. You didn’t give a flying fuck in that ring tonight and you came in second.”
“First loser,” he laughed.
She shook her head, “You earned a shot at the second best championship in this league.”
He cracked another bottle of rum, on course for liquor poisoning, liver damage, or both.
“You said “second” again,” he took another drink.
She was rapidly losing interest in the situation, but asked, “Do you still have the card?”
“Oh, this?” he whipped out the Ace of Pentacles, captured between the index and middle fingers of his right hand, he flashed it at her.
“Now I’ll tell you what it means,” she smiled.
“Save it,” he stood up, promptly tearing the card in half. He tossed it at her feet.
Anger welled up inside of Lizzy, a kind she hadn’t felt in a very long time. For a moment she felt silly for letting someone like Jack Dempsey raise such emotions inside of her, but she quickly packaged that thought in favor of fucking him up. She rose, intent on putting him on his ass, but her advance was quickly halted as Lyle Vitalis broke through the door.
“WOW! What a NIGHT! Jack my MAN, you killed it out there! Second place! Could have been first, but we’ll take it!” he noticed Lizzy, but didn’t recognize her anger, “Lizzy! Babe! Excited about the next Valor Pro UnYielding Champion?”
Lizzy pushed past Lyle on her way out the door, she left with, “You can have him!”
“WOW! What got up her butt?”
Lyle turned right around into Jack’s awaiting grasp. Jack shoved Lyle up against the wall behind him. Jack gave him another good shove, this time cracking the dry wall.
“I saw what you did. The next time you run your mouth about what I will or will not do in this fucking league, I will fucking kill you. Got it?”
“Whoa! Hold on there soldier, It was just to get your ratings up! To get you noticed! Cool your jets!”
Jack reached back and doubled over Lyle with a heavy punch to the gut. Jack then proceeded to redirect Lyle out the door as he fell.
“You’re going to retract your bullshit about gambling with my title shot. Do it now or we’re done and you’ll turn up in a shallow grave in the desert. Got me?”
“Totally!” Lyle coughed, “Loud and clear!”
Jack slammed the door.
Undoubtedly, It would be an awkward flight home, as all three were on the same flight, sitting in the same row.
"Second Place"
The show was still going. The music was thumping as another wrestler headed towards the ring and the fans were cheering. All of this was muffled as Jack sat in his dressing room, for his night was over.
Jack had managed to finish second in his second match as a “professional” against a very respected and well known wrestler in Chris Callum. Placing second against a man like that was no small feat, yet Jack felt like he had been eliminated first.
Jack turned back to the bottle. It was rum and it was smooth. He pulled his t-shirt off and slung it to the side and took a long drag off of the rum. Cubana white rum. The kind of rum that gets you intoxicated before you even know it - by the time you feel it, you might not be able to walk.
Jack didn’t care - he just looked forward to the drunk.
He set the bottle down and started pulling the tape off of his right fist, then switched to the left fist. The tape didn’t make it to a trash can, it just fell haphazardly at his boots, before he pulled the bottle back up and put it to his lips.
Lizzy entered the room quietly behind him and stopped, gazing at Jack’s back. Over his left shoulder, running the length of his shoulder blade was a tattoo of an upturned dagger inside an arrowhead, with three lightning bolts running up the blade.
Without moving, Jack asked, “What do you want?”
She held her hands together at her waist, as if she were holding her own hand for comfort, detecting the hostility in the room. She took a step forward.
“Just wanted to check in.”
“Yeah?” he took another drag, “Well you checked, now you can go.” She took another step forward and Jack let out a raspy laugh, “If you’re staying, you’re drinking.”
He held the bottle out to her with his left hand, still not turning to face her. She took the bottle and inspected it. She knew the bottle was a problem, but decided to ignore it. She took a small sip from the bottle and shuddered as the liquid ran the length of her tongue before she swallowed. He slid over, giving her room to sit and she did. She handed the bottle back to him and he searched for his reflection in the glass and the silver aluminum label.
“You were pretty sloppy tonight,” she admitted, but he didn’t reply. “Are you always going to bring that,” she pointed at the bottle, “to the ring with you?”
He drained the bottle and winced as he eyeballed her, “Yes.”
She looked at her knees and shook her head, “If you focused and actually gave a shit, I’m scared of what you could accomplish. You didn’t give a flying fuck in that ring tonight and you came in second.”
“First loser,” he laughed.
She shook her head, “You earned a shot at the second best championship in this league.”
He cracked another bottle of rum, on course for liquor poisoning, liver damage, or both.
“You said “second” again,” he took another drink.
She was rapidly losing interest in the situation, but asked, “Do you still have the card?”
“Oh, this?” he whipped out the Ace of Pentacles, captured between the index and middle fingers of his right hand, he flashed it at her.
“Now I’ll tell you what it means,” she smiled.
“Save it,” he stood up, promptly tearing the card in half. He tossed it at her feet.
Anger welled up inside of Lizzy, a kind she hadn’t felt in a very long time. For a moment she felt silly for letting someone like Jack Dempsey raise such emotions inside of her, but she quickly packaged that thought in favor of fucking him up. She rose, intent on putting him on his ass, but her advance was quickly halted as Lyle Vitalis broke through the door.
“WOW! What a NIGHT! Jack my MAN, you killed it out there! Second place! Could have been first, but we’ll take it!” he noticed Lizzy, but didn’t recognize her anger, “Lizzy! Babe! Excited about the next Valor Pro UnYielding Champion?”
Lizzy pushed past Lyle on her way out the door, she left with, “You can have him!”
“WOW! What got up her butt?”
Lyle turned right around into Jack’s awaiting grasp. Jack shoved Lyle up against the wall behind him. Jack gave him another good shove, this time cracking the dry wall.
“I saw what you did. The next time you run your mouth about what I will or will not do in this fucking league, I will fucking kill you. Got it?”
“Whoa! Hold on there soldier, It was just to get your ratings up! To get you noticed! Cool your jets!”
Jack reached back and doubled over Lyle with a heavy punch to the gut. Jack then proceeded to redirect Lyle out the door as he fell.
“You’re going to retract your bullshit about gambling with my title shot. Do it now or we’re done and you’ll turn up in a shallow grave in the desert. Got me?”
“Totally!” Lyle coughed, “Loud and clear!”
Jack slammed the door.
Undoubtedly, It would be an awkward flight home, as all three were on the same flight, sitting in the same row.