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Thaddeus Duke · (11-19-2016)

Friday, December 25, 2015 | 9:52 AM Local Time | The Vatican

Thaddeus Duke and his father Sebastian stroll around Saint Peter’s Square taking in the sights and greeting well wishers. They’ve even answered questions from skeptics. It has no doubt been a long night and an equally long year. Both men barely slept during the night hours as there is just too much to be done.

They’ve taken on the responsibility of restoring everything they’ve destroyed. The plan gets high marks from some world leaders, but to others, it’s an empty gesture made by an extremist group to save face in light of terrible acts.

”Open the doors,” Thaddeus says into his radio, referring to the doors to Saint Peter’s Basilica.

”What? No! What the hell are you doing?” asks his father, slightly angered.

”Look around you. This isn’t the Compound in Connecticut, dad. This is the capital of Catholicism. No matter who sits in that damn uncomfortable chair.

“These people are lost. They’re looking for some normalcy in their shattered world and I’m going to give it to them,” Thaddeus explains. ”They want to go and pray to their God at the feet of their past leaders. If we truly want peace with the Catholics, we can not deny them that. It will be seen by supporters and detractors, as a gracious and necessary step at healing the wounds of a war that has lasted centuries.”

”Mr. Duke is it true?” asks a young Italian man as he runs toward the pair. His line to the duo is quickly cut off by the Illuminatus Guard.

Thaddeus works his way through the guard, passing by elbows and shoulders toward the young Italian father. ”Relax gentlemen, the man has a question. I’ll answer him,” Thaddeus states as he reaches the front.

”Go ahead, sir. What’s your question?”

”The doors to the Basilica. They are open, no?” the man asks in his broken English.

”Yes. I have ordered my Guard to open them.”

”And we can pray in the face our Lord?”

”What is your name?” he asks.

”Giuseppe.”

”Giuseppe, I have opened the doors as an olive branch. Vatican City may belong to us now, but I’d not deny you your right to worship your God. If I want us to live in peace and harmony side by side as we are, that means I want you all to carry on with your lives. I want you all to embrace us and give us a chance to achieve that peace and harmony.

“Take your family in, sir. And may your God be with you.”

Giuseppe grabs Thaddeus’ hand and shakes it vigorously. ”And yours with you.”

Giuseppe runs off to his family. Thaddeus watches as the man hugs his family and they head toward the Basilica.

”That was well done, kid,” says Sebastian.

”I can not expect them to want peace and to accept our existence here if I do not show them kindness and mercy.”

”You definitely didn’t learn that from me. You’re tough. You’re not afraid to join your troops in combat or in the air. But you’re also kind. Forgiving. Merciful.

“I do believe that this world will be a better place because you’re in it.”

Thaddeus continues to shake hands with Catholics as they pass by on their way to the Basilica. ”To be fair, Dad,” Thaddeus begins his response. ”You haven’t really taught me anything, have you?”

Thaddeus looks back at his father. He notices as a shameful expression crosses Sebastian’s face. ”I didn’t intend that to be hurtful. I’m just speaking the truth.”

Sebastian nods before turning and walking away. The new Captain of the Illuminatus Guard, coincidentally, Thaddeus Duke’s only real friend, James Edwards enters the scene. He stands by his friend watching as Sebastian Duke walks off.

”You just crushed his soul, man.”

”He’s a big boy, Jim. He’ll get over it,” he states. ”In everything he’s ever done he’s either barely triumphed or failed miserably. The war, the wrestling… love.”

”He was a great wrestler though, wasn’t he?” Jim asks of his superior.

”I suppose so. Mostly he just gets mocked. If you’re so damn great, you don’t get mocked. You get idolized.”

”Speaking of love… You said you’d tell me about the girl.”

Thaddeus looks at the ground, then up at James. ”What girl?”

”The girl in what you called your Dream. That dream where you died.”

Before Thaddeus can respond, the bells high atop the Basilica begin tolling.

”Those damn bells toll for everything and anything. ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’” James begins to mock while adopting a news mans exaggerated voice. ”’The Pope has had a very successful bowel movement and the bells toll in his honor!’”

Thaddeus cracks a smile and chuckles out loud, ”I suppose we should go see what’s going on. The King should be about ready to meet the people again.” Just then, his phone vibrates in his pocket. ”Hold up a sec. Dad just text me.” He opens the text:

To the Papal Apartment immediately.

He dials his fathers number.

”What’s up?” James asks with growing concern.

”I don’t know yet,” Thaddeus answers as he pulls the phone away from his face to make sure it connected, then places it back against his cheek. ”I’m calling Dad now.” The two men start to walk faster toward the building.

”Dad what’s up?” he asks, then listens to his fathers voice. Thaddeus then pulls the phone away and comes to a stop.

”What is it?” James asks, when suddenly his phone goes off, which he ignores. Then all around Saint Peter’s Square, Illuminatus officials phones all begin ringing. James notices with even more growing concern, not realizing Thaddeus has continued on without him. James races to catch up. When he does, he grabs Thaddeus by the wrist, stopping him from proceeding.

”Did you look at your phone?” Thaddeus asks. To which, he notes the shaking of James’ head confirming negative. ”We’ll talk about the Dream later. Right now we have a potentially frightening situation on our hands,” he says before nudging James along.

”What the fuck is going on, Thaddeus!?” James demands.

”It’s the King,” Thaddeus replies as he begins climbing the steps toward the Papal Apartment building.

Once they enter the doors, protected by the silent Illuminatus Guard, James tosses Thaddeus against the interior wall. ”I looked at my phone, Thaddeus. It’s not telling me anything other than we have to go to the King’s quarters,” he pauses as he notices a tear escape Thaddeus Duke’s eye and his lower jaw begin to tremble. ”Tell me!”

Thaddeus Duke collapses to the floor with his legs sprawled out and his back against the wall as more tears begin to flow. ”My grandfather is dead.”

James looks down at Thaddeus. Stone faced and emotionless as the scene fades.

The Jim Ross Podcast

“Welcome folks, to the Jim Ross Podcast. I am Good Ole J.R. and joining me today is a relative newcomer to the business, he’s employed by the Xtreme Wrestling Federation like his daddy, my guest is Thaddeus Duke.

“Thaddeus, I’m honored that you’ve agreed to do this.”

”The honor is mine, J.R. I’ve watched a lot of wrestling archives over the last few months and no one embodied what it is to be a play by play man quite like yourself. In a business where disbelief is almost certain, you made everyone believe what they were seeing was 100% authentic.

“I have a great admiration for what you’ve done, Jim.”

“Well I thank you kindly for that young man. You mention a business of disbelief, but you’re part of the XWF, in contrast to every other company, the XWF is reality television turned up to 100. Is that accurate to say?”

”Without a doubt. Places like WWE or TNA or any other place out there, everything is made up. Everything is predetermined. Championships are nothing more than props.

“In the XWF, everything you see is 100% authentic and true and very, very real.”

“You’re a talented second generation athlete. Your father is the legendary Sebastian Duke. What’s it like living in the shadow of greatness?”

”Honestly I don’t think my dad was all the great. He’s a legend in his own mind. Successful, sure. But he definitely wasn’t all he was cracked up to be. He lost far more than he should have. He was better than his win loss record would suggest, but he didn’t care if he lost. That to me, is what makes him not so great.

“To me, Jim, if you’re going to lose a match, and it happens to everyone, you should be pissed at yourself. You should watch your loss over and over until you pinpoint exactly where your outing went south.”

“Your career is quite young. Not unlike yourself. How old are you?”

”That’s a difficult question. I mean it really shouldn’t be. But I was born on December 25, 2013.”

***Dead Silence.***

”See?”

“You’re not yet 3 years old? How is that possible?”

”Science is universally the most wonderful and equally the most scary thing. When I was just a baby, my father made a deal with… to use a cliché… the devil. Some space freak or something like that. It allowed him to relive the past and see different outcomes depending on how he chose to move forward with his decisions.

“To make a long story short, he was warned that changing the past could very well create a wormhole. Or a rift in space and time. I was unlucky enough to be placed in my crib at the exact moment the rift appeared. It dropped me into an alternative reality.”

“You’re being serious?”

”Completely.”

“I’m following you here, but what is your real world, right now age?”

”Officially I’m 17 until Christmas.

“Anyway, in an alternative reality, I could have become anything at any age. I was still me but I advanced my age several years when my father found me and brought me home.”

“That’s the most bizarre thing I’ve ever heard.

“As I said, your career is young. You won your first match against Ghost Taint and Jakob Davis. Were you nervous having your first match in a brutal, slobber knocker type environment like a boiler room brawl?”

”Not particularly, Jim. It seems odd but I don’t get nervous. They say if you’re not nervous before you go out there then you shouldn’t be out there, but I don’t know. I’m always excited rather than nervous.”

“Are you a babyface or a heel?”

”I guess I’m whatever the fans see me as. I don’t consider myself a bad guy or a good guy. I’m just me. You take the good with the bad and the bad with the good. If they like me I guess I’m a babyface. If they don’t like me I guess I’m a heel.”

“Last Warfare, you faced a legend in his own right, Luca Arzegotti. You called him, and I quote, ‘nothing more than a bag carrier for my father and John Madison.’ Do you still think that after going one on one with him?”

”If anything, Jim, I’m more convinced of that now than I was when I said it.

“Jim, I’m Thaddeus Duke. I don’t have a gimmick. I’m just me. I say things because that’s the way I see them. I call a spade a spade.”

“What regard do you hold your victory over him?”

”None.”

“None?”

”None.

“Look. I’m well versed in wrestling history. Once upon a time, Luca Arzegotti was damn good. Not as good as some, but still. He was good. They key word, Jim, is WAS. He’s not anymore. At this point in his career, even Michael Graves could defeat him. So no, I do not hold my win over Luca Arzegotti in any regard whatsoever.”

“Speaking of Michael Graves, along with Thomas Nixon, the three of you will compete in a triple threat this week On Warfare. What are your thoughts on that match?”

”Michael Graves is a complete fucking moron. If you measured his IQ, it’d be more relative to a cucumber than a human.”

“You’re saying Graves is like a vegetable.”

”I’m saying he may as well be one. The man is a major snooze for one. On top of it, he does his face paint up a little different and claims he’s some other Michael Graves. A Dark Warrior.

“Scary, right?

“No, the only thing I can see, is that Michael Graves is in way over his head. He’s so far over his head that he’s created this other version of himself that is even more of a snooze fest than the previous version of himself, if you can believe that, Jim.”

“So you don’t believe that he’s suffered some sort of split personality? Or that these two Michael Graves personae are two completely different people?”

”No.

“It’s a ploy. It’s a terrible gimmick to get people talking about him because the facts tell me, no one gives a damn about him. In fact, Jim, Vincent Lane went on the website and tried to get the two Graves to face each other...”

“Could be some grave consequences.”

”Ha! Yeah. Anyhow, he turned down the offer. It’s obvious to anyone with a brain that these two Michael Graves are one and the same. It’s a cheap stunt used a million times before. It didn’t work then and it won’t work now.”

“What about Thomas Nixon? He’s certainly an interesting fella.”

”I don’t have a lot to say about Nixon. It’s quite apparent to me that he’s rightfully more focused on Savage and his opportunity for another opportunity should he win that one. That’s fair, I suppose. But he’s neglected to release even one promo for his match with myself and Graves and it’s disrespectful.

“When I win Wednesday night, I fully expect for Vincent Lane to do the right thing and place me in the Television championship match at Wild Card Weekend. Or at the very least, he should add me to that match.

“I realize we’re in a business where respect is earned, not awarded. But do not disrespect me by completely ignoring me. It’s completely contrary to what we do as professional wrestlers.”

“Is wrestling on a weekly basis on Savage as opposed to your lighter Warfare schedule something you’re truly interested in?”

”If it means restoring prestige and honor to the title picture in the Xtreme Wrestling Federation, then absolutely.”

“You think you’d be a good champion?”

”I think I’d be a fantastic champion, Jim. I’m a fighter. I love to fight. There’s no challenge I would refuse. Now or ever.”

“Hypothetically speaking, if your father or your uncle would lace up the boots again and they wanted to face you, would you do it?”

”No question.

“Because then they too would see that I meant what I said. The next generation of Duke’s is better than the last.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, it has been an honor to speak with Thaddeus Duke. He’s got the heart of a warrior and the talent to match. You can catch him this Wednesday night on Warfare live from the sold out Accor Hotels Arena in Paris, France.

“My friend, thank you for your time tonight.”

”It’s been a real pleasure, J.R. Thanks for having me.”

***Click.

End.***

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