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Thaddeus Duke · (03-25-2022)

Around Midnight – Brooklyn, New York

Some time after the little argument with Lauren, I’m steering my dads now refurbished Chevy truck down a dark and damp alleyway in Brooklyn. Somewhere near the middle, I pull off behind a dumpster and kill the engine. Reaching into my bag, I pull out my gun and my mask. Also inside, and I hadn’t realized it previously, is my fathers old Assassin’s Creed style hidden blade. Lifting it from my bag and having a few minutes to spare, I play with the blade.

”You still work,” I say aloud to myself. For the hell of it, I secure it to my forearm. This should be quick and easy, but in the alleyways in these boroughs… you just never really know.

Pulling my mask over my head, I pull the handle and slam my shoulder into the door, popping it open with a loud creaking sound. Stepping out and onto the wet pavement, I make my way to the corner of building just as Keith Rickle emerges from the backdoor of his most heavily frequented dive bar. With his hands in the pockets of his jacket and his head down, he walks down the center of the alley right toward me.

Stepping from the corner, I stop in the center.

50 feet.

He doesn’t notice.

40 feet.

Still has his head down.

30 feet.

This guy is oblivious.

At 25 feet away he finally looks up and stops. He looks over his shoulder behind him, then back at me.

”Y-you need somethin’?” he asks of me.

Reaching toward my face, I turn on the light up mask and raise my gun.

He stands there staring at me. I’m aware that he knows exactly who I am.

”I was wondering when you’d show up,” he says as he takes a few steps forward. I pull the hammer back on the pistol, causing him to stop. ”The failed attempts on me, that was you right?”

I say nothing, but I step forward.

”The riot this morning, that was you too I take it?”

”Stop talking,” I say to him through the voice modifier.

”If this is it for me, then… just pull that trigger. Let’s get this over with.”

I take a few more steps forward.

”Frankie know I’m out?” he asks. My knee jerk reaction is to pull the trigger, but I hesitate to do it.

”Don’t talk about Frankie,” I order him. ”Also I said stop talking.”

”Yeah but either you’re gonna pull that trigger or you’re not,” he chimes in. ”So far you haven’t.”

”God dammit Keith, shut the fuck up!” I yell through the voice thingy. It sounds silly enough that I almost start laughing inside the mask, but alas, I stop myself.

”I know you’re worried about him,” he begins. ”I am too.”

”SHUT! THE FUCK! UP!” I shout, stepping several steps toward him to where I’m almost holding the barrel of the silencer to his forehead.

”I’m leavin’ New York, Thad,” he informs me causing me to hesitate even more.

”When?” I ask him. ”Where are you going?”

”Few days,” he answers my first question. ”I been washin’ dishes at the bar. Gonna save a few bucks and take a bus to California.

“Start over.

“Somewhere where no one’s ever heard of Keith Rickle.

“Or Thaddeus Duke, for that matter.”

”I mean,” I chime in. ”Everbody’s heard of Thaddeus Duke.”

”Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to see him ya know? I’ve done things bro, that I can’t take back. I have wrecked that little boys life...” he starts to cry.

”Stop that,” I order him.

”Stop what?” he asks with a sniffle.

”Making my heart hurt, I don’t like it,” I inform him.

”Lower the gun man,” he requests. ”And take the mask off. We can talk man to man.”

For a moment, a long moment in fact, I hesitate before looking around the alley for anyone who might be watching. With no sign of anyone, I lower the gun, and slide my mask up on my head.

”So like… can I help you?” I ask of him.

”What do you mean?”

”Like… money...” I answer him as a pair of headlights start down the alley toward us. ”I’m willing to help you get started.”

He and I take a few steps toward the building to let the car pass by.

”You came here to kill me,” he says incredulously. ”And now you’re just tryin’ to help me.”

”I didn’t want to kill you,” I admit to him. ”I never wanted to do that. Just Frankie, ya know? I love that kid more than anything and I don’t want him to fall backwards...” I plead my case to the man. ”He’s just come so far.”

”I get it,” he says with a sniffle. The car passing by a moment ago stops in the alley. It’s squealing brakes let us both know. ”He hates me and he should… I took his mommy away from him.”

No sooner does he end his comments, and several masked men step out of the car in the alley.

”Keith, we gotta...” I begin, but my thoughts are cut off by a volley of shots being fired in our direction. ”GET DOWN!” I shout as I tackle Keith to the pavement. Laying on top of him on the ground, I start firing shots back at them.

One of my shots in the dark definitely strikes one of them because he yelps, but they bull rush toward me and I’m forced to dive underneath the old truck and crawl out the other side. Quickly, I hop to my feet and jump over the side and into the bed of the truck. Firing off a couple more shots, my mag is emptied.

I didn’t bring anymore.

It was just supposed to be Keith Rickle.

”Shit!” I say, pulling the trigger a couple more times because, what else am I gonna do? With nowhere to go, I just lay down in the bed of the truck, hoping they won’t find me.

The shooting ceases and I can hear footsteps coming nearer.

”Who’s that?” one guy asks another, I assume referring to Keith Rickle.

”Not him,” he replies and I know I know his voice but in the heat of the moment, I can’t find it in my memory bank. ”Let’s look around,” one goon says to another.

”You didn’t see nothin’, you got that?” he asks of Keith. Frankie’s father doesn’t reply. ”Good man.”

Still laying quietly in the bed of the pickup, I can hear the assailants working their way around. One of them slams open the dumpster lid beside the truck.

”All clear,” the man says and immediately my eyes grow wide and my memory bank finally lands on just who the man is and why I remember his voice. Lauren’s tormentor. Lauren’s attacker. Lauren’s groper from this afternoon at the restaurant.

Quiet as a mouse, with my blood boiling and figuratively seeing red, I work myself back to my feet. Three shooters that I can make out. Lauren’s attacker slowly makes his way away from me.

”Hey,” I call out before quickly sliding the mask over my face. The man turns, startled at the sound of my voice. Yet in the darkness, he’s unable to see me.

”Hey Thaddeus,” he calls out with cockiness in his voice. ”Ya here bro?” he calls out as he hesitantly steps toward the truck that I’m standing in.

I.

Am.

Going.

To savor.

Every.

Last.

Second.

He slowly reaches his hand over the bed side, peering into the truck ever so slightly. Leaning down toward his face, I click on the light on my mask.

”Boo,” I say to him and he about jumps out of his skin.

Grabbing him by the hair, I drive him face first into the ‘B’ pillar of the truck cab. He falls to the pavement as his two buddies rush over to help him and threaten me. With their guns drawn and pointed at me, I’m just standing in the bed of the truck with an empty pistol.

Powerless.

Hopeless.

Or so they think.

”How bout you come down from there?” who I assume is the ringleader suggests.

”No, I don’t think I will,” I reply defiantly.

”You got nowhere to go,” he says to me. ”Cute mask.”

Just as I get set to open my mouth to reply, I’m cut off by a volley of shots being sent in the assailants direction from behind. Something strikes my arm, causing me to drop my empty pistol. The gun falls to the bed while my arm burns like all hell.

”Gaaahh! God fuckin….. SHIT! That hurts!”

The assailants try to turn and find their attacker, but it’s too late. A person emerges from the shadows, dressed all in white. They wear a white full face… motorcycle helmet? I don’t know, it’s hard to make out. And also my arm is burning. The white knight…. my white knight, drops the two remaining gunmen.

”Um… thanks… I think...” I say, clutching my arm. ”Fuck! This hurts.”

”Get down from there,” they say to me. Their voice, like mine when my mask is on, is augmented. Theirs sounds like James Earl Jones.

”I uhh… no I don’t want to,” I reply. ”Anyway you’re not even the boss of me.”

God, my arm burns so bad.

”But I want to kiss you,” they say to me, throwing my head into a whaaaaaaaa? Kind of frenzy.

What a sight this must be, huh? Two people with altered voices and wearing masks arguing back and forth.

”Ummm, what?” I ask while rubbing my arm.

”I can’t kiss you if you’re up there and I’m down here,” they tell me. ”So come down here with me, or I’m coming up there with you.”

”But like… you haven’t even bought me dinner yet,” I joke to them. ”Also you sound like James Earl Jones.”

”Cool right?” they say. ”I sound like Darth fucking Vader!”

”It’s a bit of a turn off, if I’m being honest.”

”Thad… I ammm your faaatherrr,” they continue to joke. This person… seems oddly familiar. And they know my name so now I’m alottabit confused. So I jump out of the truck to the pavement. My white knight removes their helmet.

”What the fuck are you doing here!?” I ask after pushing the mask up on my head.

”We’re a team now,” Lauren says to me. ”I told you that at home.”

”Well...”

”And the way I see it, you needed all the help you could get.”

”Keith, you can come out now,” I say, unable to remove my eyes from my wife. ”I had it under control,” I joke.

”I guess all those practice sessions at the range finally came in handy.”

”Still got a ways to go,” I tell her. ”You shot me.”

”Bullshit, no I didn’t,” she says and I roll my hoodie sleeve up, showing her the burn mark on my arm where her stray bullet grazed me.

”You totally did,” I say to her with a smile. She leans down and kisses my superficial injury. ”Keith, where you at?”

”Weren’t you comin’ here to kill him?” she inquires.

”Yeah, but I changed my mind...” turning around to find Keith, he lays face up where I tackled him. Peeling away from Lauren I approach where he lays. His hand is pressed against his neck and covered in blood.

”SHIT!” I yell out as I hit my knees beside him. He’s still conscious, but barely.

”It’s… bad...” he says to me through labored breathing.

”Shhh, don’t talk,” I say to him as I move his arm that lays across his chest in preparation to lift him up. That’s when I notice they put two in his chest. He’s a dead man.

”We could get him to the hospital,” Lauren suggests.

I shake my head.

”No… get outta here...” he says.

”Keith, I’m sorry man,” I say as my emotion starts to get to me. ”I really wanted to help you.”

”Frankie...”

”Yeah...”

”Tell him Thad……………. I…... love him...”

”Okay Keith,” I reply quietly. ”You got it man.”

Keith reaches his blood covered hand to my face. Grabbing his hand with mine, I hold it in place as he draws his final breath and his life expires. Laying his hand down, I reach up and close his eyes.

”FUCK!” I yell out as the tears start to fall.

”Thad,” Lauren says to me and I turn toward her. She’s knelt beside her former tormentor who is waking up from his ‘nap.’

”I already know,” I tell her as I kick his pistol underneath the truck. Opening the door, I reach behind the seat.

”What are you doing?” she asks as I pull out my Louisville Slugger. ”Ohhhhh.”

The man gets to his knees when I swing the bat, hitting him in the ribs. He rolls away, screeching in agony. ”Stand up,” I instruct him.

Slowly, he starts to work his way up. Grabbing him by his collar, I shove him against the truck.

”Ya both dead before long,” he says to us.

”Maybe,” I tell him before giving Lauren a kiss and driving the barrel into his ribs. He doubles over, coughing and trying to regain his wind. Swinging the bat again, I bring it down over his back.

”Gaaah FUCK!” he cries out as he hits the pavement.

Over and over, I hit him with the bat. His chest, his back. His legs, his knees. Anything I could hit in the dark, I hit it and I enjoyed every last second of it.

Rolling him over, I kneel with my knee in his chest. ”What’s your name?” I ask him as I reach back, handing the bat to Lauren.

”Fuck you,” he struggles to say before spitting a wad of blood in my face. Instantly, she swings and hits him square in the nuts with the bat. He grunts, groans and just about cries but can’t really move with me pinning him to the pavement.

”Answer him!” Lauren yells out as off in the distance, sirens are coming closer.

”Sammy,” he says as Lauren points her pistol at his head.

”Sammy, you fucked with the wrong people,” I tell the man. ”I’m a pretty good guy but… I can be a really… bad… man.” Looking over my shoulder at Lauren, I nod. She builds up her nerve to pull the trigger but her arms start to shake.

”Can’t do it...” she says, the sirens getting closer still.

I nod my understanding and turn my head to Sammy. Pulling him by his hair, I lift his head from the pavement and squeeze my right fist, ejecting the hidden blade into his throat. Lauren flinches while the sirens are getting closer and closer still. They’ll be here in under a minute.

”We need to go,” she says to me as I pull out my cell. ”This is not time for Twitter, Thad!”

I snap a picture of the now dead former attacker of my wife before placing the phone back in my pocket. ”Let’s go.” Grabbing her by the hand, we run to the driver side of the old Chevy and jump inside. Turning the key, she turns but doesn’t start.

”Figures, you’d bring this fucking thing,” she says before I grab her by the nape of her neck and bring her lips to mine.

”I told you I’d protect you,” I remind her as I pump pump pump the gas and turn the key again. The old beast roars to life.

Throwing her in drive, I smash the accelerator and tear out of the alleyway leaving the dirty deeds behind us. As we cross a street into the next alley, the police lights are clearly visible on both ends of the block to either side of us as they reflect off the buildings. Tearing through that alley at more than 80 miles per hour and into the next… and the next… and the next… I finally hang a right turn and switch on the headlights before heading home.

Later – Woolworth Tower – Tribeca, New York City

Later on, after Lauren and I wash the dirt from our bodies, after becoming one with one another all over again, there’s one last thing that needs to be done. Making my way from our bedroom to the third floor, I take a deep breath before entering Frankie’s room.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, I switch on his lamp on his end table. He sleeps on his side, leaning toward his stomach. Gently I rub his back, not wanting to tell him what I need to tell him, not wanting to wake this beautiful little soul.

”Frankie,” I say quietly but he just stirs a little, before settling back to sleep. ”Frankie, you need to wake up buddy,” I say to him while rubbing his back. ”I have to tell you something.”

”Ugggggh… can’t it wait ‘til morning?” he asks through his sleepiness.

”It can’t,” I tell him. ”I’m sorry.”

”Then just tell me,” he argues.

”I need you to sit up Frankie,” I tell the boy. ”I need you to look at me.”

This is gonna be bad. It’s taking everything I got not to cry already and I haven’t even told him yet. He lays still a moment, then rolls to his back and looks at me before sitting up, fear evident in his eyes.

”It’s about your dad, Frankie,” I begin. ”I went to see him tonight,” I continue before pausing, debating just how much of the truth I should tell him.

”Did you hurt him?” he asks, sort of cutting off my decision at the knees.

”No, I didn’t hurt him,” I answer him honestly. ”We were talking. I was offering him some help.”

”Help for what?” he inquires.

”He wanted to move to California… he wanted to start a new life for himself and I wanted to help him do that.”

”Wanted...” he starts to clue in on where this is going.

”Frankie,” I start, but pause as the dam breaks and I can’t contain myself. Tears flow from my eyes. ”We were attacked outside a bar… and uhhh… Bub… your daddy was killed.”

Not saying anything, he gets to his knees and crawls into my lap. Quietly, he sobs into my chest as I hold him tight. Raising my head toward the door, Lauren is standing there. I don’t know how long she had been or what she’s heard, but I do know it’s long enough for tears to well up in her own eyes.

There is no love lost for Keith Rickle. He was a troubled man that, had he lived, eventually would have caused problems for Frankie. Even still, he’s just eleven years old and has lost both parents in under two years. His heart is shredded. My heart is broken for him. Lauren’s? A lot of people assume she has no heart, but she does. A big one, too. I’ve said it for almost two years and she now knows it’s true… Francis Robert Duke, is a very easy child to love.

She wipes a tear from her eye as she leaves the doorway. Climbing onto Frankie’s bed beside me, she pulls my head to her chest and holds me while I hold Frankie. Holding him tight, he throws his left arm out and around Lauren’s waist. For a long while we sit there on his bed. Long enough for him to cry himself back to sleep. Rather than lay him down, I lift him up. With my wife by my side and our oldest son in my arms, we head back to our bedroom for what’s left of the night.

Ricky…

You really want for it huh? You figuratively deep throated me to the point you were inhaling my ball sweat and I don’t mean to brag, but I got alottabit to deep throat. You took every figurative inch of me and gargled my nuts then swallowed every last drop.

Dude…

Bro…

I really didn’t know you looked at me like that. I’m honestly and truly flattered. But don’t compare yourself to me. You can’t do it. This business is in my blood, success runs through my veins, machismo and confidence oozes from each and every pore in my body because I was born into it. Yes, I am a little younger than you, but I also started doin’ this shit when I was just 17 years old.

Not everyone has the benefit of being trained by a hall of famer.

Though it didn’t start out like this for me.

When I began my career, I was cocky and arrogant. Not unlike now, but back then I hadn’t yet earned the right to be it. I severed setbacks, failures, and I’ve had my confidence rocked on its foundation once upon a time when I was living inside my own head.

What changed is dealing with my demons.

I sent them packing, then came back into the ring. And I’ve been rockin’ the world ever since.

You have not had the success I’ve had and this leads me to the end of the niceties and onto the ‘I’mma learn you somethin’ so pay attention’ portion of this promotional material.

See… you have all the tools to become a major player in this sport. You have the in-ring talent. You have the personality. You have the heart…

You got it here...

He points to his head.

But you don’t got it here.

Yet.

This industry isn’t just words with friends in wrestling form. This isn’t a game of one upping each other in promos. This is a business. To be a star in this business you have to stand out from the pack. You have to be willing to go the extra mile, to find that next gear that most people just don’t have. You have to be willing to set friendships and loved ones aside when that bell rings.

You have to be willing to be a little uncomfortable.

I know… you’ve showed glimpses of what you can do. I watched you with pride when you put down Jennie on Venom like she did to you at Blood Money. But… Until you’re willing to do it all the time, you’ll stay hovering in the middle like you are right now.

A little up.

A little down.

You’re just catching fire right now and it’s a real shame I have to snuff it out. It’s a real shame that you’ve found yourself in the unenviable position of having your little hot streak cooled off because you chose to do the honorable thing and challenge me in my own house.

I love you for it.

I truly do.

But it’s not gonna stop what’s coming.

It’s not gonna change the fact that as good as you are and as good as you will one day become, today… you’re still not good enough. I’ve made a career, I’ve forged a legacy in this industry by beating the best of the best while you’ve wallowed away over in Fight, hoping that one day they’ll notice you. Hoping that one day, they’ll think enough of you to give you the scraps that Warstein and Watson don’t want.

People like you Ricky… they hope, they pray, they want…

People like me?

We just fucking take what we want and dare someone to stop us.

You know why I have this confidence? You know why I have the popularity and the fame that I have? You know why women, and for that matter guys too, throw themselves at me? You know why when I walk into a room eyeballs are lookin’ at me?

Because I woke up one day and decided to be the very best. I made it a goal to step into that ring each and every night from bell to bell to be the very fucking best to ever do it. I worked my ass off to do it.

I took boxing lessons to work on my reaction quickness and learn how to anticipate. I took ballet to improve my agility and balance. The point is, I actively pursued greatness. I took the steps necessary to achieve that dream.

So now I wake up every fuckin’ day and look in the mirror… and that dude staring back at me knows there ain’t no one better than him.

Ricky, wanting it is only part of the equation. No one ever enters this business sayin’ ‘ya know what? I’mma just suck.’ We all want it Rick. We all want to make the top of the card. We all want the posters and the dirt sheets talkin’ bout this match or that one… You need the will power. You need the intestinal fortitude to find the extra gear. You have to make your mind force your body to get back up when it just doesn’t want to anymore.

You can shit in one hand and want in the other because this is still my house. This is still my show and I’m not dead yet.

Ricky, at March Madness in the hallowed halls of the Tokyo Dome, the Thaddeus Duke Show may very well indeed be starting its final XWF chapter… but its not over yet… and neither are you.

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