In a room adorned with features of a time gone by long ago, sits a lonely radio sitting atop a wooden table. The room is decked out in World War II era furnishings. The old radio comes to life playing a little swing music of the time period. Slowly, the camera zooms into the radio as Glen Gray’s “The Boogie Woogie Man” plays.
Soon the camera settles, then lowers in order to better view the wall behind it. On the wall, a shadow of a man and woman appearing to kiss. A screech and click of a door opening, then closing is heard.
”What the hell is going on here?” a man shouts in a thick Brooklyn accent as the two shadows on the wall separate and retreat a few steps. A third shadow appears. Another man, carrying a long object.
”Jack, it’s not what you think!” shouts the woman.
”Jack just calm down friend, it really isn’t what you think,” responds the first man.
”You stop talking!” Jack shouts to the first man. ”Barbara! Explain to me what I saw in the window! Am I home a little early?”
”Jack, I just...”
”AHHHH!” Jack grunts, not allowing her to finish as he swings the long object, appearing to hit her in the head. Barbara falls out of the shadow as blood splatters the wall along with her daiquiri. The other man screams out then charges toward Jack, who easily boots him away and out of the shadow. The man gets to his feet and is quickly put down with the long object Jack is wielding. Blood splatters on the wall, the stereo, the table.
”Fucking bitch!” Jack yells as he starts swinging the object over and over switching back and forth between Barbara and the unknown man. Once he’s through, he enters the picture and smashes the radio, stopping it from playing.
The camera follows him. He takes out a pack of Lucky’s from his blood soaked suit pocket and lights up a stick before sitting down on a blood spattered sofa, just opposite of the smashed radio. He takes a deep drag, then leans back and closes his eyes.
The radio flickers to life.
CROOOOATOOONNN
Jack opens his eyes and the radio begins playing the same tune from earlier. ”What the hell?” he asks himself aloud before walking to the radio and switching the radio off. He returns to the sofa and leans back again, closing his eyes.
The radio flickers to life again.
CROOOOATOOONNN
Again, the same song from earlier plays. Jack’s eyes open wide, ”Must be a short.” Jack pulls the plug from the radio before returning to the sofa and again leans back and closes his eyes.
CROOOOATOOONNN
The radio lights up again.
”Hello, Jack.”
Jack’s eyes spring open, ”Who’s there!?” he shouts inquisitively, showing fear in his eyes.
”My name is Croaton,” is emitted from the smashed radio. ”Do not be afraid. I am here to help you.”
”I’ve lost my mind,” Jack replies as he walks toward the radio and verifies that the switch is in the off position and the plug is pulled from the wall.
”John Alfred Martin, of Brooklyn, New York. Better known as Jack,” Croaton states. To which Jack grows wide-eyed and steps away from the radio and stumbles over Barbara’s smashed head and falls back onto the sofa.
”Do not be afraid, Jack. I have already told you that I am here to help you.”
”What the hell is going on here?” he asks rhetorically.
”Again, my name is Croaton. I am here to force you to confront what you have done, Jack,” Croaton says before pausing briefly, then continuing on. ”The former Barbara Anne Whitehall of Yonkers. She has quite definitely seen better days. Would you not agree?”
Jack doesn’t answer.
”And James Thomas Lewis of Brooklyn,” he pauses, Jack looks down toward the bodies. ”He was not even aware she was married.”
”What the hell do you want?” Jack asks of Croaton.
”It really is quite simple. By the end of our time here, one of two things are going to happen. One, you will call the police and turn yourself in,” he pauses, allowing Jack an opening.
”And the other?” Jack asks.
”Much like you did to James and Barbara, you will take your own life.”
”I don’t see myself doing either of those things, Croaton.”
”Oh I beg to differ, Jack. Your choice ends this meeting. If you refuse to make a choice, you will be stuck in an infinite loop, reliving this moment over and over and over. From now, until the end of all time.”
”This is unbelievable.”
”Perhaps it seems so, my friend. But I assure you, it is as real as the crushed skulls on the floor.”
”What are you?”
”It is truly difficult to understand just what I am exactly,” Croaton begins to explain. ”What I am, is a universal infinite being. My job is to tap into the recesses of ones mind and force them to repent and cleanse themselves of what they have done.
“Most often, those that can reach me take several years. You are a rarity. You reached me nearly immediately.”
”What do you mean ‘I reached you?’” Jack asks, more confused than ever.
”I do not reach out. Those I interact with, reach out to me in their subconscious mind,” he pauses. ”And here we are.”
”I don’t know what it is that you want from me.”
”Tell me what you have done and why you decided on that course of action.”
”You already know what I did,” Jack argues.
”You have to say it,” Croaton explains.
Jack takes another Lucky and lights it up. ”Barbara and I were high school sweethearts. We hit it off as soon as we met. You know how the story goes. I was a football star, she was a cheerleader. We were voted best couple. Won prom King and Queen,” Jack pauses.
”Go on, my son.”
”We wed in the spring of 1935. Right out of high school. I went to work at the mill with my father. She took on a job as a seamstress.
“Things were good. Too good.
“About a year ago, I started hearing gossip that she’d been running around at nights while I was working. I never confronted her about it, but it took its tool on our marriage. The fighting began about six months ago and it never really stopped.
“Divorce is such a stigma and I know neither of us would have wanted that.”
What then? What brought things to a head tonight?”
”Last week my draft number came up. I’ll be headed for camp, then off to Europe with the rest of the boys.
“I wanted some resolution before I went. I talked to some of the folks at the mill, you know the type. Too old to fight, but not too old to work. They said if I really wanted to know if the gossip was true, just leave work early one night and find out what I need.
“Tonight I did that.”
”And your reaction was to bludgeon her to death along with her lover who had no idea she was married?” Croaton asks.
Jack nods while stamping out his cigarette.
”No, Jack. You must say it.”
Jack sighs deeply. ”It wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to threaten them. Scare the bejesus out of them. Once I figured out the truth, the hurt and rage took over and I couldn’t stop myself.”
”It is not very difficult to fathom, really. Someone you love, betraying you, hearing the gossip of the locals, refusing to believe it while in the back of your mind, wondering if it is even just a little bit true.
“Then you come home to find out it is. All the pain and the anger and complete disregard for your feelings as a human by someone I know you truly loved. It must be hard to accept what you have done to her.”
”She didn’t deserve that.”
”It is a rare occurrence when someone does deserve their fate, Jack.”
Silence.
Jack stands to his feet.
”You know your options, Jack. What will you choose?”
Jack heads toward a table near the front window of the home. He opens the drawer and pulls out a pistol, then steps over the bodies and sits on the sofa, just staring at the gun.
”I still hold hope for you, Jack. You did a terrible thing. It is not too late to turn yourself in.”
POP!
”Now it is.”
Scratch.
Static.
Mr. [REDACTED], I am quite pleased that you are not a complete idiot. Do not misunderstand. You are still an idiot, just not completely. What I do is for the greater good. You can choose to believe otherwise, that is your prerogative.
You are fully entitled to disagree that I give these people a choice. But that is exactly what I give them. It is unfortunate that so many choose to end their lives. They have so much more to give than they realize. Andrew, for instance, he would have gone on to be an advocate and a voice for abused children. Had he not thrown himself off that balcony.
Elizabeth is strong. She will overcome her demons. She will go on to enter college for psychology and will start a non-profit organization helping the angry control themselves.
Jack? He’d have gone to the asylum over what they call “lover’s rage.” A bout of temporary insanity.
Most are just not strong enough to face what they’ve done and overcome it. That is beyond my power, Mr. [REDACTED]. It’s an unfortunate fact. But a fact nonetheless. I can not control their free will. I have never encouraged anyone to take their own life. They are presented with choices. They choose the path they choose without my encouragement. In fact, in the case of John, or Jack, as he was called, I tried to discourage him from doing it.
Scratch.
Static.
Alas my final opponent has showed his face. Figuratively speaking, of course. It is a matter of fact that three men… well two men and Ghost Tank… will walk into a Boiler Room Brawl on Wednesday night. It is a matter of fact, that only one of us can win.
It surely will not be Ghost Tank.
And as surely as I’m not who Ghost Tank thinks I am, the victor will be me.
You seem a little butt hurt that I hadn’t yet brought you up in these promos, but it is another fact that I have mentioned you. Perhaps you and Ghost Tank can share that tube of Preparation H. I’ll admit that I only mentioned you in passing, but tell me, [REDACTED], what would someone such as I possibly say to an unknown entity that until very recently had not uttered a single word or released a single promo?
I think even you are smart enough to consider that fact, before you bore the rest of the world with your useless, tired, speech.
I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Croaton is nothing but a pawn in my elaborate game. You’re not competing against Croaton, regardless of what your text messages and the card online says. My identity will be revealed Wednesday night, just like yours.
I don’t have to speak about my superiority over you. You and I both know that I am, so why talk about it at length? I promise [REDACTED], I’m not underestimating you. I feel that I’m estimating you accurately. I will win. And Ghost Tank will lose. You?
You’ll just be the third wheel.
You don’t have to like it, but that is what’s going to happen.
You can put money on it.
Wednesday night on Warfare, it begins...
all...
over...
again.
83-31-1
1x XWF Universal Champion || 3x XWF Xtreme Champion || 1x XWF Supercontinental Champion (First)
1x XWF Hart Champion (Last) || 2x XWF Television Champion || 1x XWF Tag Team Champion
1x OCW Savage Champion || 1x IIW Tag Team Champion || 1x AAW United States Champion
2x SOTM (9/20, 7/21) || 2021 Male Wrestler of the Year || XWF Hall of Legends
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