OOC: Sorry for the rough third effort. Got hung up with work and other activities.



(He had to go back eventually.

Centurion has not seen the building that once housed the Centurion Casino and Hotel since he left the city several years ago. He didn't want to be reminded of the height that he fell from. But eventually, he needed to see it. There was no avoiding it.

We open up outside the front doors of the vacant building that was the Centurion Casino and Hotel. It's after Saturday Night Savage, so it is roughly 2 or 3 in the morning. The boardwalk is mostly dead, save for a few drunk gamblers shambling their way to the next hot spot.

The once lit up beacon of the city now sits dormant in the darkness. Instead of fading into the night, it actually sticks out more prominently, as both of it's neighbors - the newly renovated Showboat, and the once closed Trump Taj Mahal, that has received a billion dollar revitalization as the new Hard Rock Atlantic City - teem with life.

Sitting, resting gently against the doors is the XWF Hart Title, placed there hours ago by Tristan Slater. It is barely visible - the lights from the boardwalk provide enough visibility to show the title. If it were daytime, the belt likely would have been stolen by now. It is New Jersey, after all.

The sound of footprints approaching the building is heard, and we quickly see Centurion and Walter Crowe casting shadows on the wood of the boardwalk. Centurion bends down and picks up the title belt before standing back up straight next to Walter.)

Walter: Well, he said he wanted to send a message. He certainly did that.

Centurion: Yeah.

(Walter and Centurion stand, staring at the empty building, just allowing the wind and the sounds of the city to sit in the air. Centurion takes a deep breath.)

Centurion: It's a damn shame, Walter. To just have it sit here like this. I would almost feel better if someone bought it. Why didn't anyone buy it?

Walter: Lattimore is holding on to it, knowing it's prime real estate. He's looking for a huge buyer to come in and grab it. Hard Rock has already been interested - they'd likely bulldoze it. Turn it into a parking garage.

Centurion: Ugh. Because that's the last thing we need in this town - more parking.

Walter: But we did build something great here, didn't we? Two guys with no casino experience, building a place from scratch, and making money for over a decade? We changed this city for the better.

Centurion: Yeah...yeah we did. I can't believe there were two major players in Atlantic City in the early 2000's, one of them became president, and it wasn't me.

(Walter laughs.)

Walter: I don't know if we would be better off of not.

Centurion: Given how my life turned out...probably not.

Walter: Eh, I don't know. You might have a slight edge. You wouldn't be snorting cocaine in the White House bathroom.

Centurion: You assume he does it there and not just on the desk itself.

Walter: Like Clinton?

Centurion: Exactly.

(They both laugh, and Walter pats Centurion in the back.)

Walter: Look...I'm only going to say this once, because the last thing I need is for you to get a big head, but...I'm proud of you. Honestly. Most folks would never even attempt to come back from where you were. And not only have you come back, but you're better than ever.

Centurion: I'm wiser, Walter. I don't know about better. I've learned from the bruises and the scars. I had no choice. Some of these other folks - the ones who continue to try and tear me down - don't realize what that means. They are afraid of failure. I've been built by it.

Walter: It's more than that. Everyone takes failure personally. You don't. You understand that it's a part of life. You take nothing for granted...except for beating Peter Gilmour, of course.

Centurion: Ha!

(Centurion's laugh is so loud that it echoes into the night air, and some folks walking by stop for a brief second, startled.)

Centurion: I'm happy to know that, no matter what happens in my life, and no matter how far down I fall, I can always rebound against Peter Gilmour. I don't understand - they keep trying to make Peter Gilmour a thing. Stop trying to make Peter Gilmour a thing!

Walter: It's and his crew. They troll and they nag and they do whatever they can to annoy people. They're evil, but they're also the equivalent of YouTube comments. You saw what they did to poor Boris. How is he doing, by the way?

Centurion: He's beat up. The doctor is going to look after him over night, then he's going to head back to Slovakia for a while. With Anarchy taking a break, he wants to get some rest.

Walter: Good, because with the spread of the Coronavirus, I was afraid he'd be trapped here.

Centurion: Ugh, don't put that on me. Can you imagine living with Boris for a month?

(Both Centurion and Walter shutter.)

Centurion: Those guys are dicks, but I get to take out two of them in a row. I'll send Gilmour back to whatever box he came from, and I'll retire Tristan Slater. And then we'll come back here with a couple of beers, sit in front of the door, and toast to the good work we put in together.

I’m