I've been sittin' here since six in the mornin' (minus the frequent trips to drain my bladder.) I've been drinkin' straight Bourbon for hours and it's quite possible, if not completely probable, that I'm drunk as fuck. Digger should be here with the information I've been seekin' in like.... whatever time I told him to be here. How could I do it? How could I allow myself to bet half my fathers business on a stupid fuckin' poker game?
He challenged me.
He challenged my manhood.
When a guy is questionin' everythin' he knows, it's easy to be manipulated to do things you wouldn't typically do. Like for instance, gamble away the business your grandfather started, and your father turned into an international powerhouse. It's hard for me to swallow. On one hand, this business was never meant for someone without Ross blood runnin' through their veins. But on the other hand, if he can help keep the business from collapsin' upon itself, maybe its for the best.
Am I saying this shit out loud?
”Indeed you are, Mr. Ross.
“And it is for the best.
“Maybe its time you put away the Bourbon. After all, I know you have some documents I need to sign.”
I spin around in my chair and stare at the man that stands across from me. Dallas Zade. The man that outsmarted me early this mornin'. What Dallas doesn't know, is that I'm about to outsmart him in ways he never thought possible. Digger, my private investigator, called me a couple hours ago. He gave me some preliminary information he thought I could use. I have to say, it's damn solid information.
”You're right, Mr. Zade. I do indeed, have some documents you need to sign. I am a man of my word.
“However, such legalities of how you acquired half of my company would never stand up in a court of law. None in Texas at least. Especially not in Dallas.”
I toss a large packet of papers which is equivalent to a small novel. Instead of Ross Oil though, the top page reads Club Dynasty.
”What is this? Some kind of joke?”
”Does it look like I'm jokin' Mr. Zade?
“See, I've done some diggin' in the last few hours and it seems you're the owner and operator of the most elite night club in town. Club Dynasty. Since you don't have a leg to stand on what it comes to acquirin' half of Ross Oil, I'm proposin' a new deal.”
”And that is?”
”Mr. Zade, you will be givin' me half, less one share, of Club Dynasty and in return, I will give you half, less one share, of Ross Oil.”
”This deal ain't worth toilet paper, Mr. Ross.
“Why would I give you half of a very, very lucrative company, just to claim half of one that hasn't had a penny in profit in at least the last three months?”
”Because you and I both know, the oil business always rebounds when its down. And when it does, those oil profits will soar way passed anything comin' in from Club Dynasty.
“That and because you want half of my company.
“With the club business though, I'd expect to see half the profits of your underground venture as well.”
”Now I know you're jokin'. I don't have an...”
”You can't bullshit me. I know you ran that card game last night. I know you run underground gamin' all over Texas.”
”And you want half of everything?”
”Less one share. See, you want in my oil company and I need your money to keep it runnin' while things are stopped. It's a small sacrifice now on both our parts, in exchange for a much, much larger return later.”
”You are certainly a worthy opponent, Mr. Ross. I had you pegged as a man in way over your head. I guess I was wrong.”
”Oh, you definitely were wrong. Never underestimate a Ross, Mr. Zade.”
”Deal.”
He leans in, then signs his name to at least fifty pages. Some for Ross Oil, some for Club Dynasty and “other” business interests. I'd signed my name earlier. I knew he'd take the deal because he really had no choice.
”J.R.?”
I'm snapped out of my trance, I look up at the familiar voice to see Digger walkin' across my office.
He places his large briefcase down on my desk and eyes up Dallas Zade.
”What you find out?”
”You sure you want me to say it now, boss?”
He says it without takin' his eyes off Zade.
”Considerin' that he's my new business partner and all, Digger, this is Dallas Zade, of course I'm sure you probably already knew that. Dallas, this is the best private investigator money can buy. His real name is Clint Emerson, but my father always called him Digger. Because he can dig up any bone from any skeleton, buried in any part of the globe.
“There ain't nothin' you can hide from this man. If there's somethin' to find, Digger will find it. Ain't that right Digger?”
”Absolutely, boss.”
”Sit on down here, Digger. Tell us what you found out about uh...”
I snap my fingers, pretendin' that I can't remember who the mark was.
”Who were you diggin' on?”
[blue]”One Mister Dallas Zade of Dallas, Texas.”
”Oh, that's right.”
”What? You investigated me?”
”Of course. Dallas, you don't go into business with someone, no matter the circumstances, without knowin' who they are. How do you think I knew about Club Dynasty and the gaming businesses so fast?”
”Boss, you sure you don't want me to tell you what I found in private?”
”I don't hide any secrets from my new business partner, Digger. Just lay it on out for both of us. Right here in the open.”
”Alright then.
“Dallas Zade is the adopted son of a billionaire investment banker. He's got a trust fund worth a quarter of a billion dollars.”
Digger stares down at the floor. Dallas Zade leans back, smiling at me. Somethin's up.
”That can't be it, Digger. What you got?”
”No. No, that's definitely not it, Boss. The most interesting thing I found out is somethin' I already knew. At least, from what your father told me years ago.”
”What's that?”
”Boss, your parents had another son before you.”
What?
”This was long ago. Before you were born and before your parents were married. They had a son together out of wedlock and in those days in the south, it wasn't good for your public image to have a child out of wedlock.
“It still is that way in many parts of the South.
“Your father was a prominent Dallas businessman, Boss. He was far too busy being a workaholic. Your mother, at the time she wasn't quite right. A lot of booze and drugs. They put their first son up for adoption. And it seems that Dallas Zade...
“Is your brother.”
You gotta be shittin' me.
”Digger is this some kind of joke?”
”No, boss. I'm deadly serious.”
This is undeniably the biggest shock I've had. I never knew I had a brother. Much less one as arrogant and cocky... Son of a bitch! He's just like me!
”Alright, Digger, go back to getting' me information on what those Denver oil boys are doin' in my town.”
”You got it, Boss.”
Digger takes his leave from the office.
”First order of business, Dallas, is if you ever want to see a return on this investment, you need to cut a check for the leasin' department.”
”How much?”
”236 grand.”
”How did you fall that far behind?”
”I used up all the cash to keep it goin' as long as I have. So, you either write a check to keep the doors open, or you gave up nearly half your business, for nothin'.”
”They'll have a check by morning.
“I have got to go.”
”Business?”
”Yeah, you know. A business that actually makes money.”
Oh he's definitely a cocky one. He doesn't yet understand just how lucrative oil is. He'll find out eventually. On his way out, he stops at the door and turns to look at me. A big smile on his face as he bounces his keys in his hand.
”I thought about not tellin' ya, but being brothers and business partners now, I just wanted to let you know about the card game last night.”
”What about it?”
”I stacked the deck, John.
“See ya later.”
Part of me wants to show him what its like to be a Ross. Another part of me wants him to have his little victory. If for no other reason, than to watch it bite him in the ass down the road. He and I are so much alike though, that I feel like he and I can be good friends...
(I take a gold cigarette case from the top, middle drawer of my desk and open it up. Inside, lies an invigorating white powder substance. Using a rolled up hundred dollar bill, I inhale that blissful substance.)
...Maybe...
Look what the cat dragged in. My worthy(less) opponent Ricky Somethin' or Other. And not a moment too late. How nice it is, Rick, for you to finally crawl out of the hole you've been hidin' in. How nice it is, Rick, for you to grace myself and the rest of the XWF with your presence. How nice it is, Rick, for you to finally drop a promo.
Did you only recently remember you had a match?
Did you remember that this young Texas oil man is comin' for some glory? “It's not about winnin' or losin' against John Ross.” Your words, not mine. I'm grateful you don't care if you lose, 'cuz that's exactly whats gonna happen.
The business man turned manager, turned wrestler, turned manager, turned wrestler, turned pathetic fucking loser. Rick, allow me to take a moment to congratulate you on bein' my first victory. You can't win 'em all, son. And you especially ain't winnin' this one.
How wonderful it is of you to comment on my business misfortunes, Rick. I did lose half my company, but you know what? John Ross never loses. Like any rattlesnake trapped in a corner, I strike, and I strike hard. Releasin' a poisonous venom the likes of you, can not shake off.
C'mon down to Warfare, Rick. I'll show ya how we do it in Texas.
Bring Jenna, I'm sure she'd love to see 'Big Oil' in action.
![[Image: B5si4Gv.jpg]](http://i.imgur.com/B5si4Gv.jpg)
![[Image: HBEAJ1I.jpg]](http://i.imgur.com/HBEAJ1I.jpg)
![[-]](https://xwf99.com/images/portal2/collapse.gif)
