Wednesday, January 1, 2014 – 1:54 PM EST – Private Airfield – Rhode Island



I've never been this nervous when it comes to the Xtreme Wrestling Federation and what goes on inside of it. My attack on Griffin MacAlister along with my good friend Steve Davids, has rendered my tag team partner unable to partake in the tag team title defense on Warfare. That's a good thing. I wanted him unable to compete. Why would I allow him to selfishly sabotage my title reign? I have no doubt in my mind that the little snake would try to screw me over.

Taking him out of the equation though, leaves me in a bit of a conundrum. Who the hell am I going to choose as my partner? I've made a lot of enemies during my time in the XWF and to be completely honest, I really wouldn't want it any other way. I mean, the one guy I did consider to be my best-friend, at least as far as the XWF is concerned, is Griffin MacAlister. That friendship is dead and buried. I got Steve, but he dips in and out of sanity more often than John Madison changes sexes. More often than Shane mentions the word 'potato.' More often than ol' Peter Gilmour telling everyone to suck his dick. I digress, you get the picture.

I set out on a search for the right man to carry the other strap. The right man to walk into Warfare and beat down Theo Pryce. To beat down NAZI (again.) To retain my tag team titles. I searched long and hard. I searched high and low and I think that I've finally reached a consensus on who that man should be.

To make things clear, I intended to take MacAlister out of this match from the moment I knew who was gunning for the tag team titles. So, the search has been going on in secret for quite some time. Today is the day that I lay it all out on the line. Of course, the possibility does exist that he'd say no and fly his ass back to... wherever the hell he lives.

I had Air Darkness One fueled up and at the ready for this very moment. I sent my Messenger and Matthew on the flight to pick up my would-be partner and bring him here for this meeting. So here I sit. Waiting in a limousine with Asmodeus. Everybody knows, I don't wait well.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Where the hell are they?”

ASMODEUS: “They'll be here soon. Relax, son.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “What if he says no?”

ASMODEUS: “He's not going to say no.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “He might.”

ASMODEUS: “He won't.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “What makes you so sure?”

ASMODEUS: “Because you're the god damned King of Darkness, Sebastian. No one tells you no.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “You know, that's not even sort of true.”

ASMODEUS: “Look.”



He points out the window and up above my airfield is my private jet, Air Darkness One. It's descending toward the runway for the landing. The landing gear is down and the wheels hit the runway with a screech. Seconds later, the plane comes to a full stop and the stairs are moved into position. The door opens and the first one out is Matthew carrying some bags. Next is Jacob carrying even more bags. Then, the guest of honor. He's the new United States Champion.

Mystica.

He descends the stairs and Jacob leads him toward the limo.



ASMODEUS: “Greet him before he gets to the car, Sebastian.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Fuck. I feel like I'm on some kind of shitty blind date or something.”



I take my fathers advice and climb my large frame out of the car. Jacob rushes by me and helps Matthew load the bags into the trunk of the long Cadillac. As Mystica closes in, he stops, just a couple of feet in front of me. Just then, I hear the whine of the window on the car.



ASMODEUS: “Shake his hand, stupid.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Would you shut up?”



Asmodeus puts the window back up. I extend my hand toward my would-be partner.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Mystica, it's... I don't know. Nice to meet you, or something like that.”



He shakes my hand, but says nothing. I sweep my hand toward the awaiting limousine with my ever increasingly annoying father inside. Mystica climbs into the car. Then, it's time for me to shove my big ass through the door. Once inside, it's time for a chat.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Look, I'm not real good with beating around the bush, so I'm just going to lay it out on the proverbial table here. You remember when you were the tag team champion?”

MYSTICA: “I do.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Remember when I challenged you and goaded you into accepting?”

MYSTICA: “Actually, I was thinking about that during the flight here.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Remember how I won and you barely even had a chance to let it sink in that you were a champion?”

MYSTICA: “...quite well.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Well, I'm about to ask you something. And I absolutely need a yes or no answer right now before we ever move any further.”

MYSTICA: “By all means, Sebastian. I'm listening.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “How would you like to have your tag team title back? Before you say anything, what I'm telling you, is I'm willing to give you Griffin's half of the tag team titles. He's a worthless, pathetic little piece of shit anyhow.

“You want it, it's yours.”



He pauses, hand reaching up to cradle his temples between thumb and forefinger. Though internally, I can tell he's thinking about a number of things, his face is blank as a sheet of snow. He blinks once, heavily. The bags under his eyes look like they could go on for miles -- black holes. Finally, he gives a slight sigh and raises his head to speak.



MYSTICA: "Well, Sebastian...let it never be said I am not a grateful man. You invite me here, a man of grace, and welcome me into your private world. This is your kingdom, mate; your comfort zone. It takes a man of two types to do that -- either a man who is incredibly comfortable, even in the face of danger...or a man who has been led to desperation. I shan't warrant to guess which. But I am far from a fool or a bastard. I know opportunity when I see it. "



He slowly, ever-so-carefully, extends his hand.



MYSTICA: "I accept your offer, big man."



Mystica and I shake hands once more and I take the opportunity to hand him what used to be Griffin's tag team title belt. After, I hit the button to wind down the partition between the rear cabin and driver.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: "Jeeves, back to the Compound."

JEEVES: "Right away, sir."



I'm not sure its wise to take Mystica to the Compound. I mean, I hardly know the man at all aside from a couple of matches we've been in. I won one. He won one. But, the two of us together could prove to be one hell of a force.

They say when one door closes, another opens. The door on Griffin and I is undoubtedly closed. The final chapter in that saga has yet to be written and it may not be for quite some time. This door with Mystica though, is wide open.

Yes, Mystica is a wise choice in a tag team partner. Theo Pryce and NAZI thought they had it in the bag when the shit hit the fan between Griffin and I. Little did they realize, and they really should have, is that I'm the King of fucking Darkness, and I always have a plan.