AS35: Jack Skinner vs. Black Dragon

[Phoenix]

After an unsuccessful team up against the Forgotten Powers last week, Jack Skinner has personally requested to take on Black Dragon one on one, blaming him for the loss last week. Skinner is looking to make an impression on the company, but with his attention now on Black Dragon, will this build up his frustration or put him back on the right path? Black Dragon will no doubt be looking to defend his cause, will he succeed?

Deadline is Tuesday 2nd August 23:59 EST

 

[NSL]

Jack Skinner enters the dressing room, throwing his jacket roughly into his locker. He paces quickly, and kicks a steel chair over, and then falls to the floor, clutching his foot.

Jack Skinner: Dammit, Dragon! If I would've known he was ever tagging me, we'd have won. If he just talked to me before the match, we'd have won. No one knows this business more than me. God! What a loser!

Jack sits quietly at his locker, contemplating his next move. He slips on his shades, looks up, and gets a sinister smile, before leaving just as quickly as he came.

**************************************************​

Chuck! I want Dragon Face!

Chuck Myles: That's...good to know. How can I help you?

No, no, no. In a match. I want him in a match. If he won't work with me as a partner, I want to show him one-on-one how to succeed in this business.

And you think you're the person to show him? Whatever it is you think, you're not scheduled for my show next week anyway. You'll have to talk to Vance.

Oh...well...uh...Can you send him an e-mail, or something?

No. You can try to bully Leon, but you're not bullying me.

Jack leaves, slightly red-faced.

**************************************************​

So I got my match? And, you'll let Black Lizard know? Sweet. Thanks.

Jack closes his cell phone, pleased with the news that Vance has granted his wish for a singles match with Black Dragon. His Ferrari peels off, speeding away into the night.

**************************************************​

Hey, Leon. I'm sorry about last week. I was a little stressed. Do you have that info I asked about?

Leon: Yeah. I asked around town, and here's the list of places he's been supposedly spotted. I'm only doing this, because it's a slow news week. No more favors, no matter what.

You're the man, Leon. Thanks.

Leon leaves, and Jack is left alone, in a dimly lit parking lot. He studies the piece of paper, and stuffs it into his jacket pocket, before climbing back into his car.

**************************************************​

Jack pulls up outside a Starbucks, and double-checks the paper Leon had given him.

Here goes nothing. Worth taking a look.

Jack enters the establishment, and catches the attention of a cute, young, female barista.

Hey there, cutie. I got a question. Have you seen a mysterious man around here? Age unknown. Wears either all, or mostly, black. Writes a lot. Ring a bell?

Barista: Uh, yeah. This is Starbucks. Every young guy that wants to be a writer comes here, and they're all "dark and mysterious", so they wear black.

Well, this isn't getting me anywhere.

Jack leaves, but not without the barista's number.

**************************************************​

Jack arrives at the next location, and seems a little less hopeful.

Alcoholics Anonymous? Are you for real? This has got to be a joke.

Jack inputs the address from the slip of paper into his GPS.

GPS: YOU HAVE ARRIVED AT YOUR DESTINATION

Well, it's worth a shot, right?

Jack enters the building, and is greeted warmly with hugs, and a cup of coffee.

Um, no, sorry, guys. I'm not an alcoholic.

AA Members: The first step towards sobriety, is admitting you have a problem.

No! No! You don't get it. I'm here looking for someone. He's a wrestler. But, no one seems to know what his name is.

Random AA Member: Here, we are all anonymous.

Someone...has been drinking the Kool-Aid a bit too much. I'm outta here.

Jack leaves in a hurry, as his Ferrari leaves 15-foot long skidmarks, and a cloud of smoke.

**************************************************​

This is the last place on the list Leon gave me. Let's see what's behind door number three.

Jack gets out of his car, and stares straight up at the tallest church in town. He lets out an audible whistle, while taking in the pure majesty of the place.

Never took the guy as a church-goer, but I've seen far crazier. Besides, a priest wouldn't lie, so why not take a chance? What's the worst that could happen?

As Jack enters the giant oaken doors, the priest immediately cuts him off.

Priest: You're seeking something. Perhaps, someone? I can help you, child.

Yes! You can! See...there's this guy...He's a co-worker...sort of. I need to track him down, and talk to him about some work-related issues.

Whenever one of my sheep come to me, with whatever troubles, their words are between them, me, and Him. I cannot break that vow. I am sorry.

Oh, JESUS CHRIST!

The priest is obviously shocked, and clutches at his crucifix.

How dare you take the Lord's name in vain! I will not have it in my church! Get out! Heathen, get out!

Is everyone nuts in this town?!

Jack leaves in a hurry, with the priest just steps behind him, damning him. Once outside, he jumps into his car in a hurry, and speeds off, stalling his car during the rush.

**************************************************​

Hey. Leon.

Yes, Jack?

Is this all part of your joke? Is this a game to you? I'm a respected writer. As a fellow journalist, there should be some camaraderie between us.

Trust me, Jack. This was not a joke. You asked where he could be, and I got the information. Don't know what else you could possibly want.

Jack's cell phone flies across the room, smashing into the far wall.

Agh, shit! That was an expensive phone! Dragon's going to pay for this.

 

[Gelgarin]

Book of the Dragon​

~ Chapter Six – Divine Retribution ~​

It is said that when the gods wish to punish us they answer our prayers.

I don’t believe it personally. As a child I prayed often, and though the gods delighted in finding new ways to punish me, they never looked to my prayers for inspiration. As an adult I believe that the gods help those who help themselves, as such I have only prayed three times. Once for a death, once for a life and once for a love. The father, the son and the angel. But that’s a story for another day.
Whether or not the gods possess an ironic sense of humour, it is certainly true that men have a propensity to crave their own destruction and to wish for that thing which will bring them the most harm. I inhale poison to sedate my craving; the boy surrenders his soul to a mask in order to sedate his. Mankind sows the seeds of its own destruction with its wishes.

Jack Skinner should be careful what he wishes for.

Reader, forgive me if I do not dwell long upon this man. He is an agitation, a frustrating itch on the brain that not even nicotine can scratch. There is no correct arrangement of words to describe how little Skinner interests me. He was plucked off of the streets by Bateman to be my partner as a sick joke. The man is still a joke, but now he is a joke held in endless repetition… no longer funny.

He clowned around, got himself in need of rescue and then left me to fight off two men. And that point there was only one outcome, and when the inevitable eventuality eventuated his first course of action was to call me out. Jack Skinner: wish granted.
I have limited time and limited energy, Jack Skinner is a waste of both. I cannot even content myself that I am advancing another square forward in Bateman’s game. As best I can tell the grass snake had nothing to do with Skinner’s challenge. The concept of confronting me with weakness is probably too cerebral for Vance, and as such I am forced to conclude that Skinner is simply being an unwelcome distraction for its own sake.

The man is just that. Nothing more than a tiresome distraction, a fly before a wanton boy, a man cursing the sky in a thunderstorm. I have watched him. I removed the mask, let the boy out and stood in plain sight as he hunted for me, house to house. I sat and watched and waited, looking for some sign of evil to manifest itself. Skinner has forced my hand, brought retribution down upon himself, and if I am to be forced to punish the man with pain, then I would prefer the punishment to be for something worthwhile.

Alas, Jack Skinner is not an evil man. Reader, make no mistake; Skinner appears to possess not one redeeming quality, no trace of honour, etiquette or intelligence graces his mind. All who cross his path appear to feel worse for the experience. No; the only reason Jack Skinner is not an evil man because he lacks the capability. The man would be a bully but for his feeble cowardice. He would be a traitor if he had the mind to think ahead that far ahead. He would be a stooge if anybody wanted him, but no one does.

Skinner appears to be greedy, jealous, arrogant, proud, vengeful and lazy. I know not if he is lecherous, but if he is then he holds in his hands a royal flush of sin… yet Jack Skinner is not able to be an evil man. As such the fly contents himself by being a low grade stain on reality. Lightly tarnishing all who he comes into contact with, making their lives just that little bit worse for having met him. Causing trouble for its own sake. Being unpleasant for his own amusement. Making a nuisance out of himself for no other reason than because he can.

Well, in the course of making a nuisance out of himself Jack Skinner has managed to find himself stood in my way, and if there is one place a person does not want to be, it is between a dragon and its destination. A dragon will not stop it its journey, nor will it deviate from its chosen path, no matter who stands in its way. I will not step around Skinner, I will not waste time avoiding or evading him. He is is my way, and I shall walk straight through him, and quickly and as painfully as possible.

Jack Skinner, be careful what you wish for…