Jack Skinner is sitting at the bar of a metal club, working on a whiskey sour, as Asking Alexandria takes the stage. He slowly turns around, and watches, showing little emotion. Once his drink is gone, he steps away from the bar, and heads outside, where he lights up a cigarette, and breathes in the toxicity. Much to his surprise, Leon pulls up alongside the curb.
Jack Skinner: Leon? You feelin' alright? This ain't your neck of the woods.
Leon Kensworth: May not be my neck of the woods, but I do stroll through here once in a while. Besides, Trevor brought me here once.
Trevor...?
Trevor Steele. Stuck around WZCW for a few months. You may remember him from the rWo era.
Vaguely. So, what's up?
I was just heading to the arena, to do some last-minute prep for some interviews tomorrow, and saw you standing here. You don't look so good.
Me? Eh...I'm alright. Kicked back a few Jacks. I'm fine.
Upon saying that, Jack lets out a loud belch that nearly knocks him off his feet.
You're in no condition to drive. You need a ride somewhere.
Sure. Why not? I'll just ride along with you, and then you can bring me back to my car later.
Jack stumbles into the car, and lights up another cigarette.
No smoking in my car, Jack. When did you pick up that habit anyway? Isn't that against your training regimen?
It's whatever. I ain't winning no matches anyway.
Don't get down now, man. Everyone has a tough luck streak. You've put on some impressive matches, and heck, got Celeste freaking Crimson to shake your hand.
A loss is a loss is a loss is a loss is a loss...
Oh god, you're in a loop. Don't go all S.H.I.T. on me...
Sorry. You get the point. I can't win, so why try. It's depressing.
You gave Celeste a hell of a match in her return, and the crowd loved it. She obviously respected you enough to shake your hand after the match. Your match should be a cakewalk by comparison.
Who am I facing? Paradyse?
In fact, you are. Be confident you can win, but don't take it too easy. He is a former champion.
Yeah, you're right. I guess maybe there's a chance. Should at least put up a fight, right? Don't want to go out there and lose to that guy. No disrespect, but he's no Titus or Burna.
Get your head in the game, hit the gym, and get your mojo back. You'll need it. These losses will be a distant memory, if you can beat Armando and get that spot in the Lethal Lottery.
Jack perks up suddenly, hearing it will be a qualifier match against Armando Paradyse.
It's a qualifier, is it...Nice. This may be the break I was looking for. Sure, a win over this guy won't be a gold star on the record books, but it is a win. And who knows. I may luck out, and be in the final few guys to enter.
First things first, Jack. Quit the smoking, hit the gym, beat Paradyse. Then, and only then, can you look forward to the Lottery.
The ride to the arena finishes in complete silence, with Jack staring out the window, contemplating what lies ahead.
