Saturday, March 8, 2014 – 8:10 AM EST – The Compound – Old Saybrook, Connecticut



I find myself at odds with myself. For more reasons than you'll soon know. I'm within my home away from home. The Black Circle. Yet, I'm now a small piece of Theo Pryce's 'Company.' I threw my name into the hat for World War X and Theo Pryce snatched it up fast. Could you blame him? He has a team filled with losers and underachievers like Michael Radio, Michael McBride, Swaggy Swagmire and John Austin.

On the flip side, for every underachiever on the team there is a heavy hitter. A major player. Guys like The Senator, Neonero, Mr. Supernova, Scorpio, Ashen and myself.

On this team though, one name stands out above the rest. The Senator John Samuels. Not because of his obvious gifts, like talking shit on Sid Feder, but because during his time in the XWF, he has proven himself untrustworthy time and time again.

While I would never condemn any man for achieving greatness by cheating and stealing what you want, this is bigger than any one man. I mean, how would you feel, being a singles champion in the XWF with Sebastian Duke carrying around a 24/7 briefcase? I'm not saying I'm the most feared man in the entire industry, but what if... What if Wyatt Reynolds goes into a title match on Madness and Sebastian Duke shows up to cash in the briefcase when Wyatt and his opponent have already been going at it for thirty minutes? I'd say my chances of success are pretty great.

Back on track here.

The only way to get to the Senator, is through his handler. The man that pulls the strings. The former mastermind of all things Madness.

Paul Heyman himself.

I sit in my office, Jake across from me.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Have you been able to get a hold of Heyman?”

JACOB, THE MESSENGER: “No. He's been unreachable.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “This is unacceptable!”



The phone on my desk begins to ring. Without even thinking, I hit the speaker button.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Go ahead.”

????: “Who is this?”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “This is the King of fucking Darkness. Who the hell are you?”

????: “Sebastian Duke!? This is Paul Heyman!”



Just the man I wanted to talk to.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Paul Heyman, my boys have been trying to get a hold of you for a few days now. What's the problem?”

PAUL HEYMAN: “I have to apologize, Mr. Duke. I've been avoiding the feds.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “For what reason?”

PAUL HEYMAN: “They keep wanting to question me over that Fukushima thing.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “I'm not sure I'm following you.”



A moment of silence before the fat Jew responds.



PAUL HEYMAN: “Well, apparently, its frowned upon to radiate 100,000 Japanese people.”



Jake and I meet eyes. Each of us have a slight grin on our faces.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Paul, we need to talk.”

PAUL HEYMAN: “Okay, shoot.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Not on the phone.

“In person.”

PAUL HEYMAN: “I'm not sure that's a good idea, Mr. Duke. I have to meet with the Senator and I also have to meet with Theo Pryce. Time is not on your side, Mr. Duke. I have to respectfully decline.”



You might guess, my grin disappears.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “You listen to me you fat fuck! You get your fat ass to Connecticut by noon or I promise you, the feds will be on your front doorstep quicker than Ally Callaway jumps from one dick to another!

“You got that!?”



Silence from the other end.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Mr. Heyman, I'm not leaving you with a choice. You get your ass here by noon, or there is going to be trouble.”

PAUL HEYMAN: “I suppose I can push back my meetings.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Noon, Heyman! Not a minute later!”



I hang up the phone and go about my business. Jake and I have some work to do with Enigma this morning. Paul Heyman better not be late, or with Asmodeus as my witness, he'll never see the end of what I'm capable of.

---

Saturday, March 8, 2014 – 11:54 AM EST – The Compound - Old Saybrook, Connecticut



Jake and I are awaiting the arrival of Paul Heyman. After just a few minutes, a police cars with their flashing reds and blues show up at the front gates. Behind them, a long black Cadillac limousine with New York plates “HEYMAN” rolls up. The limo is heavily armored as if it was the President of the United States or some other important dignitary. On the left front fender, a small American flag flies. On the right, the flag of the Lone Star State of Texas.

The gates are opened and the police escorts and the limousine pull up the drive and come to a stop near the front doors. Within moments, Paul Heyman himself steps out of the limousine. I walk up and shake the hand of the sniveling, slimy little snake in the grass and invite him into my The Compound. Moments later, we're entering the library. Numerous Brothers are their to take his jacket and offer him coffee.

After the niceties are completed, Paul takes a seat and crosses his left leg over his right knee...

...in my chair.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “You're in the right church, but the wrong pew, Mr. Heyman.”



It takes him a minute to realize what I just said. He gets up and moves to another chair.



PAUL HEYMAN: “Kind of an odd way of telling me to move.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “It's something my grandmother used to say.”

PAUL HEYMAN: “So... What's this all about?”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “The Senator.”

PAUL HEYMAN: “Okay, what about him?”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “I need to know that I can trust him.”

PAUL HEYMAN: “Why wouldn't you be...”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Cut the bullshit, Heyman!”



My demeanor catches the fat man off guard.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Look, I know Samuels doesn't do anything that won't benefit him.”



Paul says nothing. He only grins that evil grin.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “The fact is, I couldn't give two shits about his motives or what he plans. All I care about, is that at World War X, he plays ball. He plays on the right team. He does what he was chosen to do.

“Help us to victory.”

PAUL HEYMAN: “Mr. Duke, please. Senator Samuels only cares about victory.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “I'm prepared to offer you something you can not refuse in order to secure the fact that John Samuels remains a team player.”

PAUL HEYMAN: “You have my attention.”



I stand up from my chair and I pace for a second before coming to a stop. Towering over the seated Paul Heyman.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “I have connections and resources throughout the world in nearly every government on the planet, at it's highest levels.”

PAUL HEYMAN: “I can say, you have officially piqued my interest, Mr. Duke.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “While we awaited your arrival, Paul, I've done the checking on what exactly you were referring to when you mentioned Fukushima.”



Heyman says nothing, just sips his coffee.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “You held that show in a bio-dome constructed and sponsored by Pryce Industries. There was a breach in the air lock causing potentially lethal levels of radiation to leak into the dome. Rather than halting the event and evacuating everyone, you continued on, before sealing more than 100,000 Japanese XWF fans inside. Killing them within ours.

“Not only is that mass murder, but that's also an International Incident of epic proportions.”



Again, Heyman says nothing. He only stares off to the right.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Those connections I said I had, I have them in the country you're sitting in...

“...as well as Japan.”



Heyman looks up at me, interested once again.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “What I'm prepared to offer you, is amnesty. I can get the agents of both the United States and Japan off your back. In exchange for that, I need a guarantee that John Samuels is going to do what needs to be done. I need a guarantee that John Samuels can be trusted.”

PAUL HEYMAN: “What if I can not guarantee it?”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “You're closely related to Senator Samuels re-election, are you not?”



He nods.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “I'd suggest that, if you can not deliver this guarantee, that your association with the Senator, may cost him greatly in his bid. Don't you think?”

PAUL HEYMAN: “I can guarantee Senator Samuels is playing for the right team. I can guarantee he will aid you in victory.”



I begin to pace again.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Your word is about worthless to me, Heyman.”

PAUL HEYMAN: “Then why did you bring me here?”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Because its impossible to get to John Samuels without going through Paul Heyman.”



He stops sipping his coffee in mid-sip.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Oh, you heard me right. You deliver John Samuels here to me, I hear the guarantee from the horses mouth, you have no worries as far as the Fukushima incident.

“And John Samuels will remain a Texas Senator for six more years. It's either that, or I aid the feds and lead them to your door step. Senator Samuels loses his re-election. Paul Heyman, finds himself without the Senator as an ally.”

PAUL HEYMAN: “What about Theo Pryce?”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “What about him?”

PAUL HEYMAN: “Well, if they're not going to come after me, they're damn sure going after him. He and I are pretty close business friends.”

SEBASTIAN DUKE: “Theo Pryce is a man of unlimited means, Heyman. He'll navigate those waters just fine.”

PAUL HEYMAN: “How much time do I have?”



I stand towering over him once again.



SEBASTIAN DUKE: “You have forty-eight hours.

“Forty-eight hours, Paul, to deliver Senator John Samuels to my The Compound. Not a minute more.”



Without saying a word, Heyman takes his jacket and makes his exit. Heyman may be a scheming, back stabbing low life son of a bitch. What he doesn't realize, is I can be just the same.

Fade to Darkness.