September 13, 2018
Bronx, New York
The scene opens with an outside view of TC's Pub, a local dive bar in the Bronx. As the scene shifts inside Duce is seen sitting at the bar, consuming a glass of Hennessy. With his left elbow placed on the bar counter, his head rests in his palm, fiddling with his dreads as he takes a sip.
Fresh off a successful title defense of his CWF Tag Team titles, you would think Duce would be in a cheerful mood. However he continues to drown his sorrows within the Amber liquid substance. Removing the glass from his lips, he twirls the glass in a circle with his fingertips. With a sigh, Duce with one last swallow, finishes the glass and sets it back on the bar.
Duce Jones: Fuck my head hurt..
Signalling towards the bartender to refill his glass, Duce glances up at the television screen, which so happens to be showing CWF WrestleFest IV! The main event is currently underway as MJ Flair battles Colton Mace! The bartender - she had previously identified herself as ‘Cally’ - walks up, refilling Duce's glass, staring at the screen herself.
Cally: RK! Small Fry is about to do it to it!
This seemed to catch Duce's attention as he looks up at the bartender.
Duce Jones: Y'kno’ MJ?
Turning her attention to Duce, she arches an eyebrow.
Cally: You are new around here, aren’t you?
Duce Jones: Um, yeah, I said I was.
Cally: The small fry’s been coming in here ever since she was a potato, my happy camper.
Duce begins to look around curiously.
Duce Jones: Umm.. I kno’ dis might seem crazy… but where exactly am I at?
Cally: Where are you?
She fakes a heart attack a la Red Fox.
Cally: You’re in the mecca of uptown heavy metal dive-bar-ness; you’re in Cally’s Zen Room; you are in the bossa nova capital of the world.
And she finishes with a flourish.
Cally: This is TC’s Pub and Grill, grill not guaranteed!
Duce Jones: That’s the one MJ’s dad owns… right?
Cally: Always imitated, never duplicated. Waaaaait a tic, I know you. Weren’t you there back then?
She points towards the television, Colton currently in control of the contest.
Duce Jones: I think I was.. I feel like I've been in a car wreck!
Cally: Holy hamburgers, of course you do. That ladder match looked like it hurt.
Duce Jones: Ladda’ match? The last thang I rememba’ is being clocked upside tha head wit chairs.. Eitha’ way, I'm Duce..
He extends his hand and she shakes her head, holding out her fist. It takes him a second in his fuzzy-brained state, but he fist bumps her and she blows it up.
Duce Jones: Speakin'a bein’ familiar wit folks, I feel like I've seen y'befo’.
Cally: I’m Cally. Or Rose. Or Rosie. Or Calico Rose. But most people call me Cally.
Duce Jones: Cally? Cally? Callllllly?
Duce's eyes go wide, a sudden wave of realization succumbing him.
Duce Jones: Oh shit, you managed Impulse right?
The voice catches Duce's attention, none other than Impulse himself from the far end of the bar.
Duce Jones: Y'got t'be fuckin’ wit me! You're Impulse!
The three-time former World Champion, The Marathon Man, nods and shakes Duce’s hand.
Impulse: Last time I checked.
Duce Jones: Y'might not believe dis, but y'were one'a my influences comin’ up!
Impulse: Thanks, man. Appreciated. I like your work, too.
Duce looks somewhat shocked.
Duce Jones: Fuck, man. I didn't thank y'would kno’ who I was.
Impulse: Hah. I don’t really check out the sport much anymore, but…
He gestures to the television.
Impulse: We’ve known Miss Mariella since she was born, so Rosie and I never miss her matches - and by that token, we end up watching the entire show.
Duce Jones: Fair enough..
Impulse: Anyways, sir - Why so early? Rosie was assuming we’d be swamped after the final bell, not before things shut down.
Duce Jones: Honestly I forgot I was even at a show. Got clocked upside tha head and somehow ended up here.
Impulse: Sounds like a concussion to me.
Duce Jones: Is that why my vision blurry and I don't rememba’ too much of shit?
Duce Jones: Damn… Since I'm here, then… I heard about a lil somethin’ something’ - maybe dat’ll calm dis migraine I got.
Cally looks at Impulse, then looks back at Duce.
Cally: What’s a thing that’s a thing?
Now, Duce looks confused - be it because of the odd question or because of the throbbing in his head, he can’t tell.
Duce Jones: I’m sorry, MJ told me you did a lil… ‘special’ baking?
A look of realization washes over Cally’s face, but her eyes suddenly narrow. She leans over on the bar and looks deep into Duce’s eyes.
Cally: Just answer me one thing, sweetie.
He waits, now a bit nervous.
Cally: Are you evil?
Duce can barely contain a chuckle, but the look on Cally’s face appears deadly serious. He looks at Impulse, who gestures to him to answer.
Duce Jones: Uh… no?
Cally’s eyes narrow a bit more, before they open wide and she stands up straight.
Cally: Good enough for me.
She turns around and reaches into a bag, pulling out a tupperware container. She opens it up and holds the container towards Duce, who whistles at the sight of what actually look like incredibly delicious brownies. He reaches in, and gladly takes one. With two bites, Duce scarfs down the delicious treat, licking the remnants from his fingertips. Reaching into his pocket, Duce produces a twenty dollar bill, placing it in a tip jar. Duce grabs another brownie, doing the same thing to it. Wiping his mouth he looks at the couple.
Duce Jones: Now I wanna smoke somethin’ t'boost dis high I'm bout t'have. Where y'all smokin’ area?
The front entrance is to Duce’s left, but Cally points to the right.
Cally: It’s fenced in, and technically part of the bar so you can have your drink out there. But be ninja-esque with what you smoke; I have medical reasons but New York is a weird place.
Duce nods his head, exiting through the side door, having a seat at a table setup. Retrieving a bag a marijuana from his pocket, Duce begins to break it down, soon producing a cigarillo. Doing his ritualistic routine, Duce rolls a blunt and proceeds to light it up. Taking a pull, Duce inhales the smoke, exhaling it from his lungs. Taking one more deep drag, he relaxes, suddenly passing out in the chair.
I no longer question how I got here.. Where is here you might ask, I don't know.. What I do know is that I exist.. In what realm or dimension fails to collect in my mind.
But I do know how I got here.. Ego. Fame. Greed… That's what got me here, stuck within myself with no forms of control as a wild man runs loose everyday. There was nothing I could do but sit back and watch.. Watch as he destroys my vessel day by day with his recklessness. The fans don't see it, they hate me, the skills are still there but the attitude is different.
A swagga’ all’a his own if you will.
He's done things that have put me in a light so bad, that it would be hard to wipe the blemishes clean from my name.
And poor Mia…
Drove Taxi into a state of utter and complete madness. That final match against us sent him over the edge. Nobody saw it, but I did.
That's all I can do. Sit back and watch as ‘Duce is on the Loose’. I'm afraid he might get us into something we might not be able to come back from… I tried to convince him that those days of being a thug were over.
We were better than that.
We were better than senseless violence, all for the sake of having the streets know our name.
This wasn't that.
I wanted to make our name known the right way. By earning it, not by hook or crook, do anything outside the book.
He was dangerously unsafe out there as well, taking head shots like they were going out of style.
I need to fight my way back.
--- --- ---
In my personal opinion, when it comes to being a professional wrestler. You can never stop learning. You can never stop refining and honing your craft. There are never too many tricks to the trade that you can't learn. Before I even thought to go forward with this journey, Pops told me to strive to be the best. Which is exactly what I'm going to do, by any means necessary. One thing I refuse to do, is become complacent. But in the Hostile One's eyes, that's exactly what I had become.
Really, what would my legacy grow to become, if I wasn't able to pull out the right victories, at the right moment? If I was only able to rely on one aspect of my ability, as if it were a crutch.
One thing was for certain, I wasn't in Pops’ Shadow, he made sure I was able to make my name, all my own.
Build the brand my way.
I mean because at the end of the day, we're nothing more than a name. An identity, a business opportunity. But the ‘Duce Jones’ brand was moving full force with a head full of steam.
But this was only the first chapter.
My first year with the CWF, was hastily coming to a conclusion. The second chapter soon to get started. However, that would mean that Duce has to go through some changes.
Maybe so, because I refuse to be taking lightly, I refuse to let my crew be taken lightly, and I damn sure ain't about to let no one, and I mean no one destroy it.
They got me fucked up.
November 6, 2018
Calgary, Alberta, Canada
One whole year since I made my debut with the Championship Wrestling Federation. And I wanted to celebrate it by getting stoned out my mind, and having PornHub worthy sex. Instead, I was sitting in a restaurant with Sierra, having a ‘casual’ dinner.
I chowed down on a plate of chicken tenders and fries, Sierra herself picked away at a lobster dinner plate - taking smile bites here and there.
“Y'good over there? Y'barely touchin’ ya food..
“I'm fine..” She responded, dipping a piece of lobster in butter sauce and taking a bite.
I guess.. This was her idea, not understanding why she's not having a good time. Bring her to Canada with me, buy her all those nice things at the mall. I thought she would be head over heels right now.
Women… Guess that's why I never pursued a relationship.. I dunk a tender in some BBQ sauce, taking a bite. I glance over at her.. Child support wouldn't be so bad..
But you're a professional wrestler!
We don't get paid shit.. It'll be aight..
“So where are we headed to next after the show?”
Her comment, breaking my train of thought. “Where we at now?”
Hmm. Pops knew a guy, who has a school here, maybe after the show I can go get a few pointers. But that also means a small break before Northern Crown..
“I'm sendin’ y'back t'Memphis. Afta’ t'show dat is.. Y'kinda been a distraction.
“Are you serious?” She questioned, dropping her fork on the plate.
Damn… Now she about to cause a scene. My head hurts to bad for this bullshit.
“Mane.. it's nothin’ against you… It's just dat, I feel wit everythang goin’ on. It's best if you be back in tha 'M’, if f'nothin’ else but safety alone.”
Before she could even begin with her tirade, some guy came stumbling over. In my personal opinion, he was a tad bit intoxicated.
“H-Hey! I-I-I know you!”
This is why I'm not really a people person.
“Y-You're Douche Jones!” Burp! “You g-g-got your a-a-as-assss kicked last week! Hahaaa! And you're gonna get your ass k-kicked this week..”
When your in the light, there's a certain imagine you have to hold up. What he doesn't know is that, if I were back home, I'd choked his ass out already. At the very least, punched him in his shit.
But he's a drunk fan.. He wants to shit talk.. I guess I could humor him for a second.
“Get my ass kicked huh?”
“J-Just l-l-like Tobias and L-L-Loki kicked your ass! D-Dorian and SSssteell are gonna do the sssaaamme thing!”
“Whateva’ yo ass been drankin’.. I want fo’ of em.. Cuz you funny as hell right now!”
Small chuckles resound around the restaurant. Some people pulling out cell phones to record the encounter.
I rise from my chair, Sierra almost embarrassed, but I partially feel this is her fault. I just wanted to chill and get high.. You know focus on my match. But if this guy was egging me on, just for the sake of a promo. I'd play ball.. Besides Canada was a wrestling country. I'm pretty sure they enjoy, random wrestling promos..
“First off, y'don't have t'nuts t'step in tha ring wit'a maniac like Loki.. It's fine though, I'ma come back harda’ that next time we do face each otha’ again.. But tha fact y'think some drunk is gonna kick my ass is crazy t'me..”
I give him a once over, disgusted at his drunk state.
“I bet y'don't know no limits when it comes t'dat bottle.. It's a damn shame.. Just like big Hawk, y'all try t’hide y'all pain in tha bottom of day bottle. Day afta’ day, night afta’ night, week afta’ week, month afta’ month, year afta’ year. And f'what t'find out dat those problems ya had are still gonna be there? I try not t'judge cuz dat's not my job t'do..”
I look around at all the cameras pointed at me. The intoxicated fellow, now taking a seat as if in deep thought from my comment.
“What my job is… is puttin’ my knee through any and every muthafucka's face dat step in dat ring wit me.. Simple as dat, now I kno’ tha two men I'm facin’ shouldn't be taken lightly. And I won't.. come Evolution me and Freddie step up against Dorian Hawkhurst.. A man I've been inside dat ring with on many'a occasions. And whetha’ he off tha wagon'a not..
I'm comin’ in full throttle, cuz I kno’ what Big Hawk can do! But in sayin’ dat, he knows what I'm capable of as well.. But if I were to have any concern. It would be wit’ you Mista Sum Bitch! I grew up watchin’ ya as a youngin’. Hell you and Pops even wrestled in a few promotions togetha’. So I'm very familiar wit’ what y'brang t'tha table..”
I glance over at Sierra who seems to be enjoying all the attention we're getting. Trying her best to look sexy as I carried on.
“I hear ya say dat y'here t'burn tha CWF t'tha ground.. Not while there's breathe in my body. Dat shit not gon ride wit me Clyde! I say good riddance t'dat bagged idiot. Hell he couldn't fill y'boots anyway. A lil bit soft, if y'ask me.
Personal opinion though. But now I get tha real deal! The Real Deal Son of a Bitch Trent Steel! I here now your'a guy who likes t'cause ‘Carnage’...
I laugh a bit.
You don't know what you're getting us into..
“Mista Trent Steel.. I thank it's best if ya, gon pack y'lil leatha’ jacket, y'Oakley shades wit tha red lenses, and ya face paint. And just head on back t'Baltimo’ cuz these problems. Y’don't want! Cuz when Evolution goes LIVE… I hope you and Big Hawk ready. Cuz me and Freddie gonna be ready to introDuce ya t'tha reason why whateva’ y'all call yaselves aiming t'do is gonna fail.”
I take the opportunity to point my finger in the air in salute to my brethren.
“Thanks Glass Ceiling!”
With that I take a seat, I stare at Sierra who now has a grin from ear to ear. I got the feeling that she loved this type of attention. I didn't though.
“Now if y'all would excuse me, I'm tryna celebrate one year of kickin’ ass in tha CWF!”
Sierra began looking at me with sensual eyes, as if she was ready to take me back to the room and have a bit of fun. I just wanted to finish my tenders, they were damn good and getting cold.
I hope you know what you're doing.
I do. Don't you worry about a thing. I got it all handled.
Not wanting to finish dinner, Sierra grabs me by my arm, pulling out of the restaurant. I guess I got her in the mood, she rushed me to our rental car, where I unlocked the doors - both of us entering the vehicle. Starting it up, I speed off towards the hotel to enjoy the night with her.
Fuck! I forgot to pay the bill.. I hope one of those guys on the moose, don't come looking for me.
He had it all figured out, huh?
I'd let him keep going at this pace, eventually he would see the big picture. He just poked a bear with a stick. Those headshots have finally got to him.
What I was trying to prevent, he was diving head first into.
Bad move. I needed to get a handle on this situation before all hope was lost. I needed to be back in control, before there was nothing left to control.
You worry too much…