Wednesday, July 17, 2013 – 1:14PM EST



Sebastian Duke sits in his private office. That's where I'm headed. What he said yesterday about bringing the Brotherhood to the Xtreme Wrestling Federation has been very disturbing and unsettling. As his Messenger, I feel we need to discuss this matter further.


I knock gently as I reach the door. As I enter, I see him watching footage of the XWF. I take a seat and I watch with him.



MESSENGER: “We need to talk.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “I figured that much. That's the only reason anyone ever comes to my office.”

MESSENGER: “Yeah, well...”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “What is it? What's on your mind?”

MESSENGER: “Something you said yesterday.”



He just looks at me as if to say 'go on.'



MESSENGER: “You said something about bringing the Brotherhood into the XWF. My Leader, I beg your pardon, sir, but we are not trained professional grapplers. We'd be slaughtered.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Then so be it.”

MESSENGER: “My Leader! You can not be serious!”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Relax. I'm not. What I meant when I said I was bringing the Brotherhood, is that I'm going to collect members of the XWF into one well-oiled cohesive unit. There are many, many others that feel that John Madison and his collection of misfit toys, need to perish from this Earth.

“Which is why I'm scouting.

“Do me a favor and make a list of everyone we go through here.”



I boot up the laptop sitting near me and open up a file. As I do this, he begins playing footage of various XWF wrestlers.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “What do you think of Neonero.”

MESSENGER: “A very sound competitor, no doubt. More of a loner, though. I'm not sure he'd be a great fit.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Mark him down as a contact.”

MESSENGER: “But, I just said...”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “I know what you said. I'm not deaf. I'm also not willing to fill this thing with those that are not talented enough.”



Solid point. Who am I to question him, anyway?



MESSENGER: “Peter Gilmour? Really?”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “What? You don't like him?”

MESSENGER: “I didn't say that. It's just, he's already paired up with Poppa Feder and Unknown Soldier.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “So? He's a fighter. A scrapper. A man willing to put himself through hell to get the job done. He also may be one of the few that actually might hate the Black Circle as much as I do.

“I respect him. Mark him as a contact.”

MESSENGER: “Agent Orange? Aren't you enemies?”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Not really. Just we're on different planets when it comes to the way we operate.”

MESSENGER: “So, a no then?”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Not necessarily. He's a tough competitor. Entertaining to watch, at least to a certain degree.”

MESSENGER: “He's a bit fresh though.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Fresh, like Franklin Fresh? 'Cause, I don't see that kid around here anywhere.”

MESSENGER: “No, I mean inexperienced. Especially against the likes of guys like Arzegotti and Madison.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “True. Put him on the watch list.”

MESSENGER: “What about Mr. Satellite?”



He sighed. Ooops.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Why him?”

MESSENGER: “Well............ He did beat you. So he's obviously tough enough.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “He got the W. It took him, John Madison and a fucking shovel to get the job done!”

MESSENGER: “Yes, I know. But, the fact is, he's been through wars. And that's exactly what this is going to be, sir. A war.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Fair enough. Put him down as a contact.”

MESSENGER: “Sir, you're forgetting someone.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “I haven't even scratched the surface of this roster yet. Who?”

MESSENGER: “Sid Feder.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Sid Feder?”

MESSENGER: “Look, he's the one guy that probably hates the Black Circle even more then you do! Plus, he's definitely tough as hell!”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “That he is, but, I don't know if I could trust a guy like Sid Feder. Besides, he's a Madness guy.”

MESSENGER: “So is Arzegotti.”



He's thinking. Probably debating the best course of action to take.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Sid Feder, huh?”

MESSENGER: “He probably wouldn't accept an invitation, anyway. But, you'd be a fool to not extend it.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Mark him.”

MESSENGER: “Sir, what about Soldier?”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “What about him? I don't think he'd...”

MESSENGER: “He beats you. Like, seriously all the time.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Hey! I beat him once!”

MESSENGER: “Yes, and through all of your wins, where to you hold that victory?”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “What do you mean?”

MESSENGER: “Think back. The night you pinned Unknown Soldier to the mat. The night you righted that wrong from your debut. The night you became the first man ever to pin that nutcase to the mat. Where do you rank that win?”



I can tell he's debating that one.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “At the top.”

MESSENGER: “Even over Mark Flynn for the title?”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “I said at the top.”



That's the surest sign that he respects Unknown Soldier. To hold a win over him is nothing short of spectacular and to hold it higher then winning a title, is something else all together.



MESSENGER: “I'm marking him. I don't care what you say.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “I'm not even sure how to contact him.”

MESSENGER: “I'm the Messenger. I can find anything and anyone. Ask Arzegotti. Ask Madison. Ask .”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Good job, by the way. You know, while I was....”

MESSENGER: “Thank you. My mission, however, is not yet over.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Alright. Find Soldier. Ask him.”

MESSENGER: “Moving on.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Find Angelus also.”

MESSENGER: “Angelus?”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Did I stutter?”

MESSENGER: “No, but he hasn't been seen in months.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “He knocked a wall over on me. That's the last time I saw him. I still owe that fuck head for that.”

MESSENGER: “You want me to find him so you can fight him?”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “No. I want him in the Brotherhood.”

MESSENGER: “Where does he live?”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Not far from here. You could start by checking every god damned dojo in and around Boston.”

MESSENGER: “Anyone else we want to cover today?”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “That'll do it. I need to get ready to leave anyhow.”

MESSENGER: “Well, good luck.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Luck is for losers.”



I exit quickly for my trip to Boston to see if I can find Angelus.

---

Sebastian Duke steps out of his old truck and into the blazing sun near the lake. He steps near the shore and stares at his reflection on the water, rippling with the slight current.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Agent Orange, for you to suggest I'm angry, is easy. Of course I'm angry. Hell, I'm pissed the fuck off and sadly, for your own ego, none of it has anything to do with you. You're nothing more to me than just the next victim in the next chapter of the written history that is Sebastian Duke.

“More Hot Topic and guyliner jokes. Funny. Except it's already been done by others more worthy of facing me in the ring than you are. I've been in the ring with Madison, Feder, Satellite, Soldier, Arzegotti, Flynn... Sometimes the same side, sometimes the opposite. Every last damn one of them is a hell of a lot harder to beat then you are.

“Stepping into the ring with you will be a vacation compared to stepping into the ring with any of them. I know it, they know it, tonight, you'll know it. Don't take it too hard though. With a little hard work and dedication, you might one day rank up there with the all time greats like Swift Ion or the Brooklyn Brawler.

“To consider the promos I release as theater or theatrical is a big fucking mistake. What I release for the public to see is not theater. They're not paid actors. I don't have stage hands. What you see is real life. What you see is the Angel of Darkness. What you see is myself in my natural habitat. My natural state.

“The Brotherhood of the Illuminatus is not some TV show put out there to garner ratings and advertising sponsorship. It's my real life away from the ring. The men that follow me around everywhere I go would end their lives to spare my own. They'd do it willingly. Without hesitation.

“I love how you have this undying respect for Sweet Cheapshots. You want to beat a man that has accomplished absolutely nothing in this business. You want to beat a man that I've already beaten in under a fucking minute.

“Keep thinking he's the best in this tournament. Keep thinking a man that lost to Sebastian Duke in less then a minute is the best there is. You're only sealing your own fate. Not that it matters much. Your fate was already sealed the second this match was made.

“You're right about one thing, though. You are a better wrestler then I am. Most are. What you're forgetting though is I never claimed to be a wrestler. I'm a fucking fighter. I'm an ass kicker and no one does it better then me!

“Whether I win or lose any match I'm in, the one thing that stays the same is that my opponent went through a living hell. And you can count on one hand. Two fingers even, how many can claim a clean victory over me. You can ask Mr. Satellite how well he felt after High Stakes. You can ask Mark Flynn how his career never recovered after I beat him to a bloody pulp at Gauntlet City. You can ask Poppa Feder and Peter Gilmour why it took three men to defeat one of me.

“I'm that...

“Fucking...

“Tough...

“You can believe it. Dispute it. Crack more lame ass fucking jokes. It doesn't much matter to me.

“The fact remains, Agent Orange. You're about to get locked in Pandoras Box and there is...

“No...

“Fucking...

“Escape!

“Tap out or pass out. The choice is yours. All that matters is tonight, my hand is raised in victory, while you feel the sting of defeat at my hands. Just like so many others before you, and so many more after you.

“The clock is ticking, Agent Orange. You won't be the last John Madison to step to the plate, but you will be the first!

“To you, Agent Orange, and all of the other fools that think they have a snowballs chance in hell at winning this thing...

“Your Angel of Darkness is coming home!

“Your Angel of Darkness is coming to reclaim what is rightfully his!

“MY United States championship!”



Fade to Darkness.