✞ L A S T  P A L E  L I G H T ✞

In his personal dressing room, he was miles away.

But he could still feel them like they were sitting right next to him.

He could feel the excitement of the fans in the form of vibrations at his feet. Even though his monitor was switched off and there was no way that he could know Jimmy Havoc had made his entrance into the WrestleBrawl match at number ten, Jeff Jarrett knew that the fans were being entertained. As the rumbling intensified, Jarrett wondered if it would be the worst thing in the world if these vibrations caused the floor of the Rogers Centre to open up and swallow him whole. He wondered... but his mind wandered.

His mind wandered toward the ping pong ball in his hand with the number fifteen on it. Tim Storm had given it to Jarrett, trusted him with it, even... Tim Storm wanted it to go to someone who needed it more than him, the crushing defeat to Bryan Danielson earlier in the night having created more doubt in the mind of Storm than he could handle. Jarrett had taken the number and promised to find a proper home for it... but that's not what he did. He had kept the number and taken it to his personal dressing room where his bag waited for him. Jeff Jarrett never went anywhere without his bag.

That's the first rule in professional wrestling... always be ready.

Jeff Jarrett had already changed into his gear. He sat in a steel folding chair in silver shorts with gold "JJ" emblems on the sides. His sleeveless entrance robe hung on a closet door behind him... resting against it, a golden hued guitar with the "SGW" logo across the back of it. Jarrett's face was red and shiny with a sheen of sweat. A single droplet fell from his nose. The hand clutching the coveted number shook with anxiety. Double J did everything he could to fight off the voice in his head... the really convincing one that asked him if this was the right thing to do.

It sounded like his father.

The truth was, Jeff Jarrett knew that he couldn't win the match. He had not stepped into a wrestling ring since WrestleBrawl 2... July 30th, 2006. For him to even come close would be a miracle. For him to actually win? An act of God, himself. Speaking of God, this opportunity had presented itself for a reason... and that reason wasn't so Nunzio or Little Guido or whatever he was calling himself could have a thirty second long "moment" before getting unceremoniously tossed by Jon Moxley... no, that wasn't the reason at all. WrestleBrawl was the Showcase of the Immortals... the Grandest Stage of Them All... or whatever other overused cliché the marketing team decided to use that day.

Edge and Christian were getting their battle royal... thing.

Val Venis was receiving a world title shot in the main event, of all people.

Jeff Jarrett gripped the ball tightly in his fist until it trembled, not with anxiety but with exertion. The WrestleBrawl match would be his moment... no, he wouldn't win but the victory wasn't in winning, the victory would be in showing up, getting in the mix, and showing all these young guys and gals how it used to be done... back when professional wrestling was the Wild West. Jeff Jarrett opened his hand and looked down at the ball that rested in the center of his palm. He looked down at the number fifteen and he knew it wouldn't be much longer.

✞ W R E S T L E B R A W L 3 ✞
✞ M A R C H  2 1 s t ,  2 0 2 0 ✞

He took a deep breath.

They would call his name soon.

The door to his dressing room opened and Edge and Christian walked inside, still in their gear from earlier in the night, topped off with black t-shirts, emblazoned with the "SGW" logo. Jarrett closed his fist around the ball again, as though he were ashamed to have them catch him with it. With only a few steps taken into the room, Edge stopped upon seeing Jarrett's robe hanging in plain sight. Edge's eyes widened with surprise.

[ Edge ] So, it's true, eh?

Jarrett stood up from his chair and slowly turned to face the former five-time tag team champions... the greatest who ever lived. Christian placed his hands on his hips and looked Jarrett up and down. A smirk crossed his face, not uncommon for him.

[ Christian ] Would ya' get a look at that? It's true, alright.

Edge, who had allowed the tips of his fingers to caress the entrance robe ever so slightly, turned to see what Christian was talking about. Jeff Jarrett remained upright, clenching the ball in his fist so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Edge pulled his hand away from the robe and lowered it to his side. Edge smiled... a more wholesome and lighthearted smile than the shit eating smirk on his brother's face.

[ Edge ] It's been a while, man. You sure tonight's the night?

Jarrett tossed the ball to Edge. Edge fumbled but managed to catch it, looking down at the ball in his hand once it settled into his palm and he was certain that it wasn't going anywhere. Jarrett placed his hands on his hips and despite his composure, despite the anxiety that tore through his body like lightning, he sounded confident... if Edge and Christian couldn't see him standing before them, they would think they were talking to the old Jeff Jarrett, without a doubt.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Tonight's as good a night as any.

[ Christian ] It's WrestleBrawl, brother.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] You're damn right.

Edge looked down at the number and gently tossed the ball in the air before catching it and closing his hand around it. Edge looked up at Jarrett and the wholesome smile was gone. There was something else there... something that resembled sorrow.

[ Edge ] What he's saying is... it's WrestleBrawl, brother.

Edge's eyes were wide and they pierced Jarrett's own... but Jarrett did everything in his power not to let it show how deep that gaze truly cut him. Edge and Jarrett stared one another down for what felt like forever before Edge continued.

[ Edge ] This is the big one... are you sure it's a good idea for you to put yourself out there? It's been over a decade since Flair... it's not gonna be the same.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] It ain't gonna be the same... what the hell are you tryin' t' say, Adam?

Edge took a deep breath and looked down at the number, holding it between his thumb and index finger. He looked back up at Jarrett. He almost looked disappointed... and truth be told, he felt ashamed himself that this conversation had to take place.

[ Edge ] Dude, you're old.

[ Christian ] Older than God, am I right?

Edge glared at Christian.

[ Edge ] Shut up.

Christian rolled his eyes and Edge turned his gaze back to Jarrett.

[ Edge ] Sure, you're a big time legend and all... you're the guy SGW was built around for years and... and, hell, you practically own it now but no one's paying money to see us out there anymore. It's a new era and... quite frankly, I don't think any of these new guys care about the legends anymore. It's all about Tucor and Orange Cassidy--

Edge turned to Christian, muttering to him.

[ Edge ] Write that down for future match ideas.

[ Christian ] We will literally never run that match but okay.

Edge turned his attention back to Jarrett.

[ Edge ] What I'm saying is... there's a lot of young, hungry guys that aren't in the WrestleBrawl match tonight. Exciting new talent that actually has a chance to win and maybe do something really good with that Golden Ticket.

[ Christian ] Let's be real, though. There's a lot of guys that I'm sure will do something really, really horrible if they win the Golden Ticket. Have you looked into Killer Kross' eyes? I shudder to think what that guy can come up with--

[ Edge ] Baby brother...

[ Christian ] I'm just putting it in perspective, okay?

[ Jeff Jarrett ] How the hell are ya'll two gonna tell me that I can't compete in the match that my ass made famous? Ya'll got a lot o' nerve, comin in here when ya'll two were just takin' part in your own little outlaw vanity project earlier tonight!

Christian looked at Edge and the shit eating smirk was gone. He looked back at Jarrett, visibly annoyed by Jarrett's remarks.

[ Christian ] Dude, that battle royal was a joke. We just wanted to get our win back from Demolition and did you even see the match? The Best Friends won. That should tell you how serious that match was.

Edge completely ignored Christian's convoluted explanation and maintained eye contact with Jarrett. Edge held the ball out in the palm of his hand with the number fifteen facing up.

[ Edge ] What's it gonna be, Jeff? Is this really what you wanna do, brother?

Without even thinking... without even looking... Jeff Jarrett snatched the ball out of Edge's palm and closed it up in his own fist. Edge sighed, visibly disappointed by Jarrett's choice. Jarrett glared at Edge. A single droplet of sweat rolled down a crease in his forehead. Jarrett spoke and sounded angry... indignant, even.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Since when does your ass care about the little guy, huh?

Edge stared back at Jarrett, surprised by the statement. Jarrett wasn't done.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Hell, you act like I'm the damn bad guy here... you were just as bad as anybody else in this company. Ain't nobody sheddin' any tears over Edge and Christian not bein' able t' terrorize the roster anymore.

Edge looked down at the floor and spoke... his voice was just above a whisper.

[ Edge ] We were all little guys once, Jeff.

Christian sneered, clearly offended by Jarrett's remarks.

[ Christian ] At least some of us were.

Christian took Edge by the arm.

[ Christian ] Let's get outta here, bro. Let him have his moment.

Edge took one last look at Jarrett and followed Christian out of the room without another word. They shut the door behind them, leaving Jarrett to his thoughts once again. Jarrett looked down at the ball in his hand once again. He would never say it out loud but he knew they were right... even if he hated to admit it. Someone else deserved that number... that opportunity. However, that did not change his mind. That wasn't in his nature... Jeff Jarrett had never been a generous man.

Why start tonight?

The door had only been closed for a moment when it cracked back open. The former SGW World Heavyweight Champion Lance Storm poked his head into the room, clad in a black SGW polo-shirt and jeans. Jarrett gestured for him to step inside and he did. Storm stood a few feet away from Jeff and clasped his hands in front of him. His voice was calm, monotone... as it always had been.

[ Lance Storm ] Number fifteen is up, Jeff.

Jarrett nodded solemnly and gently tossed the number to Storm. Storm caught it, looked it over, and placed it in his pocket. Jarrett walked over to the closet door and removed his entrance robe from the hanger. Seconds later, he was fully dressed for his entrance. He picked up his guitar and twirled it in his hands, looking it over. The golden hue glistened in the light. The corner of Jarrett's mouth twitched and threatened to form a smile. Lance Storm watched him silently before checking his watch. The urgency of the situation washed over him and his calm demeanor was almost disturbed... almost.

[ Lance Storm ] They're about to begin counting down. We should go.

Jarrett looked at Storm and for a split second, Storm saw Jeff Jarrett in his prime... the same man he went to war with in 2006 with the SGW World Heavyweight Championship on the line. Jarrett rested the golden guitar over his shoulder.

[ Lance Storm ] Ready, champ?

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Lead the way.

Storm smiled as the moment began to set in.

[ Lance Storm ] If I can be serious for a moment...

Jarrett cracked a smile of his own as Storm laid down his catchphrase.

[ Lance Storm ] ...are you sure about this?

They could hear the fans chanting in the distance...

"TEN! NINE! EIGHT! SEVEN..."

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Of course I'm ready.

There was a twinkle in his eye... and there was no sign of the uncertain man from moments ago. It was show time... and there was no time left to be anything but the man who brought Solid Gold Wrestling to its knees once upon a time.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] What's the worst that could possibly happen?

He had no idea.

Or maybe he did... and he was just too arrogant to care.

Lance Storm led Jeff Jarrett out of the room, toward the tunnel. The fans continued to count down until the buzzer cut them off with all the grace of a chainsaw. "My World" hit and the fans cheered.

Their hero had returned.

All was right in the world.

For two whole minutes.

Everything is dark and gritty.

The walls are concrete and a single, solitary window sits behind him, its panes streaked with black paint, struggling to keep away what light that it can. Even still, the moon fights and claws... still managing to stream ribbons of pale light into the room which closely resembles a prison cell. Though the man sitting in the chair is bathed in darkness, dressed in the darkness of black clothes, the pale light falls on him ever so slightly, falling on his shoulders and giving the slightest hint of his grizzled features. His hair is thin and blond... the wrinkles etched across his face appear chiseled from stone... his eyes are glassy blue, the only hint of color in all the surroundings. His voice echoes throughout the room like the voice of God and it reverberates in your ears as much as it pierces your soul.

Jeff Jarrett speaks.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I know what you're thinkin'...

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] You're thinkin'... this is it. This is the money promo. This is where Jeff Jarrett sits in the dark and tells all ya'll a story that... that's somehow relevant to what I got goin' on right now with Randy Orton... somethin' that ties it all together and really puts a neat little bow on what's gonna happen at Supremacy.

He huffs.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] And there was a time when I woulda' sat here and I woulda' cut that promo... and I woulda' told that story and... hell, son... I woulda' believed it as much as all ya'll did. But it's been a real long time... and I've had a real long time to think... and the more I think about it... the more I think about everything that's led me to this point, that's led US to this point... the more I realize--

His cold blue eyes flicker in the pale moonlight.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] This ain't that kinda' story.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] There ain't moral to what's goin' on here. There ain't no lesson to be learned... and there ain't no good guys to step up and save the day in the end. You were right about all that shit you said, Randy Orton... and I'll sit here right now and say it 'cause I'm man enough to admit it.

Jarrett leans forward, giving the camera a real good look at his eyes.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] You're a monster... as a matter of fact, you're a real sadistic son of a bitch. You've done some horrible shit in your day... but you ain't the bad guy in this story.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Naw, you ain't the bad guy, at all.

His voice is a dagger.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I am.

✞ T U R N  L O O S E  T H E  H O R S E S ✞

In his dreams, there was fire.

He awoke, alone in his bed with a tightness in his chest.

He knew he was dreaming but the panic... the anxiety was real, all the same. Everything was fuzzy and distorted in the corners of his eyes. He could smell it already. With arms full of lead, he threw back the covers aggressively, knocking over an empty bottle of whiskey that rested on his nightstand. He turned and swung his legs off the bed and planted his feet on the hard wood floor, so heavily that he feared for a moment he might fall through to the floor below.

He could see the light flickering through his upstairs window... the fire. He trudged through invisible mud toward the window, already knowing what he was going to see. He silent cursed the dream for trying to hold him back. It felt like the invisible mud was up to his waist by the time he reached the window and saw the stables on fire. The stables were always on fire in this dream... every single time. He could hear the horses squealing and screaming but there was nothing he could do about it.

The panic washed over him all the same. Jeff Jarrett turned, shirtless in white boxers, and fought against the tremendous weight that struggled to hold him back. He knew that he had to get downstairs... even though it was a dream and he knew it was a dream, he was compelled to do what it took to save the horses, to stop the screaming. He could feel sweat pouring off his body as he pressed forward toward the door to his bedroom but the harder he fought, the more resistance he met... until he began to sink into the hardwood floor.

And the further he sank...

...the more he panicked...

...until he inexplicably found pushing open the screen door on his porch. He felt the cool night air on his skin for only a few seconds before he felt the heat on his face. The stable was coming down. There was no hope of saving it... but the horses had escaped... some of them, at least.

They were on fire.

Jeff Jarrett stood on the porch, unable to move. He was never able to move once he reached the porch. He was a prisoner to the dream weaver by that point, forced to watch the rest of the act play out. The burning horses screamed and whinnied as they ran through the cornfield, lighting it ablaze. Within seconds, the entire field was on fire... and Jeff Jarrett was left wit the sinking feeling that the flames would eventually reach the house... and he would be unable to move.

His breathing became heavier, more labored. He gasped for breath but he only received the breath that his dream allowed him... and it wasn't much. The air, despite being outside, was thin... hardly enough to give him relief. Suddenly, with no warning, the horses exited the cornfield amidst a burst of flames and sprinted toward the house, just as he feared they would... but they crashed and burned only feet away from the perimeter, breathing aggressively as they died in smoldering heaps, their flesh sloughing away beneath the flames.

Unable to look away from the carnage, Jeff Jarrett saw something move stealthily between the rows of burning corn. Try as he might, he could not make out what it was... a figure... a man, perhaps? Glimmers of flesh, streaks of red... and even if it were some living creature, it was too far away for Jeff Jarrett to have seen what he thought he did... the eyes, steely and cold. Jeff Jarrett felt them on him and he knew they were what held him in place. Whatever it was, Jeff Jarrett lost sight of it as it disappeared between the rows, obscured by the flames... but that wasn't all... that was never all... Jarrett knew there was still one final part to the dream. There always was... the voice.

The whisper.

It was so familiar yet so alien...

It was always different and the closer he listened to it, the more contributors to the voice he could make out. No matter who spoke to him, the message was always the same... it tore him apart, frustrated him. He knew what they wanted but he didn't know why.

His father.

Vince Russo.

Trish Stratus.

Edge.

Christian.

Arn Anderson.

Ric Flair.

Their voices laid over one another and drifted into his ear like a gust of cool air. He would have shuddered but he couldn't. He felt his heart begin to pound, even harder than it already had been. His breathing became heavier. The voice came to him as it always did.

"Finish what you started."

And then he woke up.

✞ F A L L  o f  2 0 1 7 ✞

There was a draft in the old house.

Bathed in darkness, Jeff Jarrett trembled.

He sat bolt upright in bed, dripping with sweat. He ran his hand down his face and took a deep breath. His blanket had been thrown off of him at some point during the dream. Clad in the same boxers he wore in the dream, Jarrett swung his legs off the bed and reached for the bottle of whiskey on his nightstand. Unlike the cruel dream, there was still some left in the real world. He poured some into a glass and stood up, carrying it to the window but not taking a drink. He looked out the dirty window, past a cobweb trapped between the glass and the screen.

The stable wasn't on fire.

It was empty, as it had been for years.

The cornfield was dead and brown... a ruin.

Neither of those facts made Jeff Jarrett feel any less anxious. He took sip of his drink and hoped it would calm his nerves but didn't... it never did. He took a deep breath and finished the drink. He turned and walked barefoot across his hardwood floor, stopping in front of a small antique desk in the corner of the room. He pulled the tiny chain on a small lamp, capped off with a green, stained glass lampshade. That corner of the room and Jeff Jarrett himself were bathed in a pale green light.

He looked down at a piece of paper that laid on the desk.

He didn't dare pick it up... he didn't dare touch it.

Instead, he reached for another half-empty bottle of whiskey that rested on the desk and poured another glass. He took a drink from the glass and allowed his eyes to scan the words on the letter... correspondence from the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, a letter offering the cash investment needed to re-open Solid Gold Wrestling and keep it running for the foreseeable future... a blank check to do as he wished in exchange for the occasional event held in their country. Jarrett finished the glass and immediately poured another.

His eyes narrowed and an overwhelming sense of anger washed over him.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Kiss my ass.

He looked at the glass and sighed... before picking up the bottle and drinking deep.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] The first time I laid eyes on you, Randy... I knew right then and there, you were exactly the kinda' guy I was lookin' for to keep the sheep in line. You were young, hungry... willin' t' do whatever it took to get t' the top o' the company and I admired that... I'd been in those shoes before and I knew exactly what it was like.

His voice, though hardened, carries a sense of whimsy.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] In all my years, no matter how much success I had or how many times I called myself The Chosen One... I never really felt that way. Arn Anderson did everything he could t' cut my knees out from under me. He never wanted me t' represent Solid Gold Wrestlin'... Shane McMahon didn't even want me on the damn roster when he took over. Pushed me down and buried me as deep as he could, hopin' I'd never resurface... but I did.

A hint of a chuckle follows his next words.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I always got back up, somehow or another.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I tried t' do better by you. I picked you out as my chosen one on day one and I damn sure treated you that way. I orchestrated the SGW Television title tournament to make sure your ass ended up with it in the end... and you did. I directed you toward my enemies, those sons o' bitches that tried t' undermine my position of power, and I made sure you had the tools to get the job done... and you did.

He takes a breath.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] You weren't some wild animal, not the way you are now... naw... and you were more than a weapon... you were a walkin' war and I used you to keep my enemies in line. Michael Shane, done. Lance Storm, done. Taz... do we really even need to talk about Taz? Everybody already knows that song 'n dance. You did everything I asked you t' do. You were a good soldier... hell, you were the best soldier I coulda' asked for in them days.

He lets that sit for a moment.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Lookin' back, I know now what a mistake that was... t' put that burden on you. I'm bettin' there's plenty o' people who'd say you woulda' ended up where you did with or without my influence... but the fact o' the matter is this, kid... I was the one who saw what you had inside you and decided to harness it, control it... and use it for my own personal gain. Whether it was already there or not... I'm the one who opened the cage and let it out.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I'm the one who made you what you are today.

We can hear nothing but the sound of his breathing.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] That's why it's my job to put you down.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] No one else's.

The air was dense.

Jeff Jarrett felt cold.

He estimated that there had to be exactly zero blood located in his extremities at that moment in his life. He held the ink pen between his fingers and struggled to find the strength the scribble his name on the document in front of him. Edge and Christian... or Adam Copeland and Jay Reso, as they were known in their official capacity, stood behind Jarrett... doing their best to support their friend in this trying time.

All three men were dressed in three piece suits, even though they were in what looked like a warehouse. They were surrounded by cardboard boxes and crates. Heavy machinery hauled freight to and from one side of the warehouse to the other. The noise was less than ideal for the task at hand. The document in front of Jeff Jarrett was not another in a long line of lucrative contracts. No, those typically signaled new beginning.

The document sitting in front of Jeff Jarrett signaled something else.

The end of Solid Gold Wrestling.

✞ S E P T E M B E R  2 0 0 6 ✞

It was difficult.

More difficult than he thought it would be.

Jarrett wiped at his mouth with his free hand before taking a deep breath and diving right in, scribbling his name on the bottom of the document and dropping the pen on top of it, allowing it to clatter dramatically before lying still. A faceless man in a suit sealed the document away in a black binder and shook Jarrett's hand before walking away. As the man disappeared in the distance, Edge patted him on the shoulder. Jarrett flinched, clearly not expecting the human contact, much less the kind gesture.

[ Edge ] You okay, champ?

Jarrett nodded solemnly, not turning to face Edge and Christian.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] 'Course I'm alright... it was time.

Edge and Christian look at each other, concerned.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Seven years, boys.

Jarrett took a deep breath and exhaled slowly... dramatically.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Seven years is a long time.

[ Christian ] It was a helluva' run.

[ Edge ] The best.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Arn Anderson... Shane McMahon... all them other slapnuts that ran the place... I understand what pushed 'em over the edge. Why Arn Anderson went off his damn rocker with that Apokolips nonsense... Shane McMahon and his damn New Era... Hell, even Ted Turner and his Network... it makes a whole lot more sense after runnin' the damn place for a while.

Edge cracked a smile.

[ Edge ] I guess ol' Solid Gold always did lend itself to nefarious stables.

Christian counted them off on his fingers.

[ Christian ] The Golden Rule, The InHumane Society, the Nashville World Order--

Edge elbowed Christian in the ribs, almost knocking him down.

[ Christian ] Ow, dude! What the eff!?

[ Edge ] We don't talk about the Nashville World Order.

Jarrett lowered his head and cracked a smile of his own. The smile was hardly a gleeful one but it was there and it was better than the alternative. Still, Edge and Christian could both sense a hint of sorrow in that smile.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] The Nashville World Order...

Jarrett shook his head, still smiling.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] What a dumb ass idea that was.

[ Christian ] Totally dumb ass.

Jarrett's smile suddenly vanished as he glared at Christian. Edge elbowed Christian in the ribs again. That time, Christian didn't talk back. He just took the shot and let it go. To save the moment, Edge revealed something wrapped in a shroud that he had stored behind him.

[ Edge ] Jeff, me and Christian come bearing gifts.

[ Christian ] Well, it's a gift, sure.

[ Edge ] Come on, man. Don't spoil the moment.

[ Christian ] My bad, bro. You're the one slapping plurals on words like gift when there's clearly only one gift. Don't get the guy's hopes up, is all I'm saying. He just shut down SGW for like the eleventh time, so he might be a tad sensitive. Jeez.

Edge stared at Christian blankly.

[ Edge ] You really don't think about the things you say before they come out of your mouth, do you?

[ Christian ] We've been partners for how long, and you're just now figuring this out?

Edge hugged and turned to present Jarrett with the gift. Jarrett took it from him and began to unwrap the shroud from around it... before revealing the SGW World Heavyweight Championship belt. Even as his eyes fell upon it, Jarrett completely no-sold the gift. Realizing that Jarrett wasn't going to say anything, Edge attempted to salvage the moment.

[ Edge ] We found it in one of the crates when we came in... you're the five-time SGW World Heavyweight Champion, Jeff. Whether anybody wants to admit it or not, you're the greatest SGW champ of all time... that belt belongs with you... it doesn't belong in one of these unmarked boxes, stored in here with all this... stuff.

Jarrett continued to look down at the title. He turned his back to Edge and Christian and used his free hand to wipe at one of his eyes... and then used that same hand to open one of the crates sitting a few inches away. The same one he used to sign the document. He tossed the championship inside... like garbage. Christian visibly winced. Edge simply watched with his lips pursed, a look of surprise on his face. Jarrett turned and look at them, red around his eyes.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I don't deserve it.

Jarrett sighed and placed the lid back on the crate. He patted it gently once it was back in place. He rested both hands on top of it, propping himself up. Edge and Christian watched as Jarrett remained there, silent for a moment before speaking again.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Not now... not anymore.

Edge nodded solemnly. Christian placed his hand on Edge's shoulder.

[ Edge ] You wanna get outta' here, Double J?

Jarrett took a deep breath and slowly turned his head to look at them.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Yeah.

He paused.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I need a damn drink.

As they walked away together, a forklift drove into the shot and picked up the crate containing the SGW World Heavyweight Championship belt. It beeped as it backed up and then turned to carry the crate somewhere into the depths of the warehouse.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I knew the day would come that I'd have t' pay for the things I did. No matter how bad shit got after SGW went under in 2006... I always knew it'd get worse. All the things I done, all the havoc 'n destruction I was responsible for... I knew that there was always room for things to get worse. That's why I fought it... the Saudis... the money... people beggin' me for one more shot.

He bows his head.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I knew bringin' it back would be a mistake... that I'd only be openin' the door for somethin' like this t' happen. That's why I was the only one that wasn't surprised when it did.

He cuts his eyes back up in the direction of the camera.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Hell, the only thing that surprised me was how long it took you t' get around to it. You 'n me's got history, Randy. There ain't no denyin' that. I took you under my wing, a young up and comer, and I strapped a damn rocket to your back. Too much, too young, too fast? Maybe... but that was never the point. The point was, I needed you to get in the ring and do the things I couldn't anymore.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Is it my fault that things got outta' control? Maybe it is. Probably. Because I wasn't thinkin' about nothin' but myself and my company... the money in my pockets... keepin' the investors happy. So I pushed and I pushed... I used up everything you had to offer, kid... 'til ya' didn't have a drop left to give me.

He smirks... but he isn't proud of the feeling it gives him.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] That was a hell of a thing, huh? World Warrior? Us workin' together in the shadows to screw over Val Venis and take that world title away from him? Those were the damn days... and that shoulda' been your big moment that turned you into an icon for the ages... but it wasn't about you, was it?

Jarrett stares hard into the camera... an icy gaze.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Naw... it was about me.

Jarrett looks down at the floor.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] And it broke you.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] It broke you.

He looks back up at the camera.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] And then I threw you away like you was trash.

Beep.

Beep..

Beep...

There was a smell of sterilization in the air. It was unsettling. There was only a slight hint of illumination emanating from the monitor in the corner, which droned on and on with its beeping, letting everyone know that the man lying in the bed, tucked in beneath a clean white sheet was alive. There was a grating scrccccch sound as the curtains were pulled back and sunlight streamed in-- no. Sunlight bombarded the room, revealing the man lying in bed, his eyes shut... there was a bandage on his head with a drop of blood, the size of a dime right in the center, seeping upward from beneath that thick layer of gauze.

There was a click of heels and a deep sigh. The woman who pulled back the curtain smiled, clad in a dull pink pants suit. Her long blonde hair framed her face. With her hands clasped in front of her, she looked down at the wounded, unconscious man with a warm smile, though her eyes told another story about lurked behind.

Jillian Hall... a predator posing as a house pet.

Jeff Jarrett was only days removed from having his head caved in at the successful Solid Gold Wrestling REVENGE event. At that point in time, no one knew who was responsible for the attack. No one knew that it was Adam Cole who committed the act or that it was Arn Anderson, the former owner of Solid Gold Wrestling, who orchestrated it. He'd been unconscious for days, unable to move, unable to speak... and no one was sure if would ever be able to do either of those things again. Jillian Hall stood at his bedside, the sunlight pouring around her and filling the room. She reached out and placed her hand on his, taking it in her own, giving it a squeeze.

A tear rolled down her cheek.

[ Jillian Hall ] Jeff... I'm here, sweetie.

He didn't move. The only reply was the beeping machine next to the bed.

[ Jillian Hall ] I'll... I'll never leave your side again.

✞ N O V E M B E R  2 0 1 9 ✞

When Jeff Jarrett bought Solid Gold Wrestling from Shane McMahon in the winter of 2006, Jillian Hall was nothing but an assistant to the Director of Authority, Melina Perez. It wasn't until Jeff Jarrett was injured at Six-String Supremacy and Melina resigned from her position that Jillian Hall was given the opportunity to prove herself in a position of authority. With Jeff Jarrett out of commission, even thought dead for a time by the general public, Jillian Hall had worked in secret with him... formulating a plan that would see the formation of The Golden Rule, a dominant stable centered around Randy Orton, surrounded by Chris Masters, Ken Kennedy, and The Big Show.

With the plan executed to perfection, Randy Orton had defeated Val Venis, ending his first SGW World Heavyweight Championship reign. Jeff Jarrett "rose from the dead" on Easter Sunday, one of the most iconic and offensive moments in SGW's long and storied history... and from there, he worked side by side with Jillian Hall... she became his partner, standing atop the company he now owned and ruled with an iron fist and later on, she became his lover.

[ Jillian Hall ] Baby, you did it. You brought it back.

She reached up and placed her hand across her generous chest. She sighed.

[ Jillian Hall ] I always knew you would.

A tear fell from her cheek and stained the pristine white blanket across his chest.

[ Jillian Hall ] I always believed in you... even when everyone else gave up on you.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

[ Jillian Hall ] Even when you gave up on everyone else...

She reached up and wiped a tear from her eye, leaving a faint hint of eyeliner streaked outward from the corner of her eye. She struggled to maintain her smile... but she made it work, somehow.

[ Jillian Hall ] ...including me.

Beep.

[ Jillian Hall ] ...and what we had.

Still holding onto his hand, she placed her other hand on his chest which lay so still that it was like he wasn't breathing at all. Even with Jeff Jarrett in the room right in front of her, she was well and truly alone... talking to whatever ghosts in the room were willing to listen.

[ Jillian Hall ] What we had was so good, Jeff.

On the nightstand next to the bed, flowers rested in a dull green vase with a card attached... wilted and blue, the life leaving them slowly but surely.

[ Jillian Hall ] I want it back... I want it back so bad... just think... imagine!

Her smile stretched ear to ear, her lip injections were ghastly.

[ Jillian Hall ] You and me at the top again... just like old times! All you have to do is wake up, baby... wake up and say my name. Open your eyes... look into mine... and say--

She breathed it, rather than speak it.

[ Jillian Hall ] ...Jillian.

There was a thunk and a splash as the Styrofoam coffee cup hit the clean white floor and splattered. Jillian turned with a look of surprise on her face, and her eyes told the story as they fell upon Edge, Christian, and Trish Stratus standing in the doorway. Edge and Trish glared at Jillian... and if looks could kill.

[ Trish Stratus ] What... the... hell.

There was heat. A lot of it.

Still holding their own cups of coffee, Edge and Trish could only look at Christian as he did his level best to dampen the heated mood in the room. He looked down at the pool of coffee at his feat and huffed before placing his hands on his hips, a disappointed look on his face.

[ Christian ] Ya' know... I really thought dropping my coffee would be an appropriate dramatic gesture but... now I don't have coffee, so it's actually a little bittersweet. Which, oddly enough, is how I like my coffee.

[ Edge ] Shut up, Christian.

[ Christian ] Yeah, I'll do that.

Jillian removed her hand from Jarrett's chest and raised it timidly, waving.

[ Jillian Hall ] Hi, guys... fancy seeing you three here.

Trish stomped forward into the room and tossed her coffee cup to the side where it splattered on the pristine white wall. The cup clattered to a stop on the floor, drifting to a stop in a pool of the brown drink.

[ Christian ] What a mess.

Without warning, Christian snatched the cup from Edge's hand and tossed it over his shoulder, into the hallway. Edge slowly turned his head and looked at Christian, glaring with narrowed eyes.

[ Edge ] Seriously, bro?

Christian shrugged.

[ Christian ] Given the circumstances, it felt right... and I stand by my decision.

Edge shook his head.

[ Edge ] Idiot.

Trish ignored their banter, staring a hole through Jillian Hall, threatening to burn a hole clean through her. Jillian let go of Jarrett's hand and stood upright, straightening her jacket. Her smile wavered and eventually vanished, leaving her standing there in a true form... stoic but cold and cruel.

[ Trish Stratus ] Seriously, bitch. What... the hell... are you doing here?

[ Jillian Hall ] I should be asking you the same thing, you miserable harlot. What right do you even have to ask me that question when you're the one who started him on this path?

[ Trish Stratus ] Excuse me?

[ Jillian Hall ] You're the one who twisted up his guts... and ruined the greatest world champion that ever lived. He should've been so much more... SGW should have been so much more... and it would've been if it wasn't for you, slutting around with those two clowns when you could've been arm in arm with a real champion!

Trish shook her head, almost as though those comments sobered her up.

[ Trish Stratus ] Wait, what? You can't possibly remember it that way.

Christian whistled, looking away with a smirk. Edge shook his head, calling him off.

[ Trish Stratus ] You ignorant bimbo. You are quite possibly the dumbest person I have ever met. I thought you were stupid back then... but now? Wow. You need to go.

[ Jillian Hall ] I need to go? Go where? I'm right where I belong... next to my man... and I intend to be here when he wakes up.

[ Edge ] Yeah, that's not gonna happen.

[ Christian ] That's also gonna be a "no" from me, dawg.

[ Trish Stratus ] Jillian... I'm only going to ask you once--

[ Jillian Hall ] Bitch, you can ask 'til you turn blue in the--

Before Jillian could even finish her sentence, Trish cleared the distance between them and grabbed two handfuls of hair, dragging Jillian Hall kicking and screaming across the floor before discarding her outside the room in the hospital hallway. Trish stood over Jillian, her chest heaving dramatically. Jillian looked up at Trish with genuine fear for a split second... before it converted to a look of disdain. Edge and Christian stood behind Trish, looking down at Jillian with disappointed faces. Jillian used the wall to brace herself and return to her feet, keeping her eyes on the three Canadian acquaintances of The Chosen One. She spat at Trish's feet.

[ Jillian Hall ] Fuck you.

And then she raised two middle fingers to Edge and Christian.

[ Jillian Hall ] Fuck all three of you.

She turned and stormed down the hallway, crying out one last time.

[ Jillian Hall ] I hope you DIE!

She rounded the corner and disappeared, leaving the three of them in momentary silence. Trish shook her head and folded her arms across her chest, standing defiantly.

[ Trish Stratus ] Slut.

[ Edge ] Idiot.

[ Christian ] Bloodsucking vampire from beyond the grave.

Trish and Edge both looked at Christian, impressed.

[ Edge ] Right on.

[ Trish Stratus ] I like it.

They both turned and walked into the room. Christian almost slipped in a puddle of coffee, barely preventing himself from falling as he gripped the foot of Jarrett's bed. Edge walked to bedside and looked down at Jarrett. Trish did the same, standing next to the Rated R Superstar. Christian's lighthearted demeanor melted away as he, too, looked down at Jarrett.

[ Christian ] We're gonna get Orton for this, champ.

Trish cut her eyes toward Christian.

[ Trish Stratus ] We don't know for sure that it was him, Christian.

[ Edge ] Come on, Trish... who the hell else could it be?

[ Christian ] There's legit nobody else with that kinda' beef against Jeff.

Trish looked away from them and back at Jarrett.

[ Trish Stratus ] I'm not saying it's not Randy Orton... I'm just saying, we don't have any evidence yet. It could be Aleister Black for all we know.

[ Christian ] God, how stupid would that be?

[ Edge ] What would even be the point?

They shared a brief chuckle before Christian's attention was pulled toward the flowers on the nightstand. He raised an eyebrow and plucked the card away from the vase.

[ Christian ] How did I not notice these before?

He opened the card and looked down at it... an annoyed look crossed his face.

[ Christian ] Seriously? What's up with this guy?

He handed the card to Edge, who looked down at it, puzzled. Trish leaned over, looking down at the contents of the card herself. She shook her head, curling her upper lip in disgust.

[ Christian ] Am I right?

Trish snatched the card from Edge's hand and got a closer look.

"Well, well, well, if baby wimp Jarrett hasn't
gone and gotten himself injured again. Couldn't
have happened to a nicer guy... or should I say, punk!
Head toward the light, you putz!"
- Larry Z

[ Trish Stratus ] I don't even understand. Like, why?

[ Christian ] I've never understood Larry's need to dump on Jeff.

[ Edge ] He was never even in SGW.

[ Christian ] Yeah. Like, ever.

Trish wadded up the card and tossed it in the trash.

[ Christian ] Right where it belongs.

[ Trish Stratus ] We've gotta figure out who did this, guys.

[ Christian ] You're tellin' me.

[ Edge ] I know who I got my eyes on.

Christian placed his hand on Edge's shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

[ Edge ] No one else is capable of something like this.

Edge's gaze lingered on the unconscious Jarrett for a long moment as Trish cut her eyes in his direction, an uncertain look on her face. None of them knew the truth of what happened that night... and it would be months before they ever would.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Now, I know I said I wasn't gonna tell no story and I been talkin' a long time... and I intend to talk a long time more... 'cause this ain't a story t' me. This is the truth. The facts... this... well...

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] It's my confession of sorts.

He looks into the camera, his blue eyes pale and glassy

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I'm not a good man... and I ain't never pretended t' be... 'cept for that time in League o' Champions when I roped in ol' Ric Flair so I could take the world title off him... but that's a whole 'nother story.

He sound amused by that bit of reminiscence.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Naw, I ain't a good guy... I ain't the hero of this story... and there ain't no amount of fans chantin' "thank you, Jeff" for bringin' back SGW that's gonna change that. There ain't no changin' the things I've done... whether it be as a wrestler or an owner. I've done some shit I ain't proud of. I've done the things, they say. Put wrestlers out o' the business... put rival companies in the ground... and then didn't just let it stop there. It wasn't enough to bury 'em but I had t' stand over 'em and piss on their graves.

He sighs.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] It's a hell of a thing to have that mindset... where it ain't enough t' win... but you want everybody else t' lose... when it ain't about betterin' yourself but lowerin' your opposition in the process. That's me. That's always been me.

He averts his eyes.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Hell.

He looks back up.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] It still is.

The live crowd was still roaring.

The vibrations could be felt, even from that deep in the heart of the arena. Droplets of blood littered the floor on the way to the chair where Christina Von Eerie sat, allowing medical experts to apply gauze and stitch up her wounds following her devastating loss to Jinny in the first-ever women's death match in Solid Gold Wrestling history. She didn't wince, she barely even blinked as the medical expert applied the stitches with a needle and thread.

Beaten and bloodied, she struggled not to show pain... the pain stemming from the damage she took in the match... the pain stemming from the unexpected betrayal of a woman she thought she could count on as an ally, Rhea Ripley... the pain of failing to become the Solid Gold Wrestling Women's World Champion for the second time. She struggled not to show that pain... but it was there and it demanded to be seen.

M A R C H  2 3 r d ,  2 0 2 0
✞ W R E S T L E B R A W L  3 ✞

Jeff Jarrett walked into the room with pain of his own. Still dressed in the gear he wore in the WrestleBrawl match an hour before, along with a black SGW t-shirt, Jeff Jarrett picked up a steel folding chair and carried it across the room, placing it next to Von Eerie. She did not look at Jarrett, though he leaned forward with his elbows resting just above his knees. He looked at her and the disappointment was obvious on his face.

No, he wasn't disappointed in her... he was disappointed for her.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I know it's eatin' ya' up inside, kid.

She blinked. The medic clipped the thread, finishing her stitches.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] But I want ya' to know... your contributions... what you've done for Solid Gold Wrestlin'... that ain't bein' forgotten. This is the biggest pay-per-view in SGW history and there's four women's matches on this show... and a woman in the WrestleBrawl match.

He smiled as though he couldn't even believe it.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Hell, we just saw a woman beat the hell outta' Sami Zayn and take a damn belt off of him. That's the kinda' history ya' can't buy... ya' can't plan for it... all o' that starts with you.

She stared straight ahead as the medic dabbed away at the blood on her forehead, cleaning the area around the wound, surveying her for more damage that may need to be repaired.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] When me 'n Trish met you in that bar in Reno... Trish said she thought you'd be a big deal for us. I guess I didn't see it, then. I mean, how the hell do ya' really know when you're lookin' at the future of your whole damn women's division? But there you were... and now, there you sit.

Silence.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Don't let tonight get you down. This shit... it comes 'n goes. You'll bounce back... you'll end up back on top sooner or later. You're too tough not to believe that, I'd imagine. And hell, even if ya' don't... it don't matter who ends up with the belt goin' forward. You were the first... you're the pioneer 'round these parts. This is your division. Ain't nobody can ever take that away from you.

Jarrett stood up and looked down at her.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Keep your chin up, kid. Good talk.

Jarrett began to walk away and he approached the door to exit. As he placed his hand on the door handle, he heard Von Eerie speak.

[ Christina Von Eerie ] Jeff.

Jarrett turned around in time to see her stand and give the medic a gentle shove out of the way. She looked beat to hell and back. She had left everything in the ring... barely able to stand.

[ Christina Von Eerie ] Thanks.

Jarrett gave her a polite nod.

[ Christina Von Eerie ] For everything.

Jarrett turned and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

He had no idea that events later to come that night would change his life forever. The attack from Randy Orton during the WrestleBrawl match had been unexpected but it wasn't the end of the chaos... The Legend Killer would strike one more time with deadly intent and when he did, the state of the women's division would be the last thing on Jeff Jarrett's mind. A historic evening stripped down to what most casual fans considered the "beginning" of a heated rivalry between Jarrett and Randy Orton... but it wasn't the beginning at all.

It was the end.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Everybody begged me not t' come back for this, Randy.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Hell, I didn't wanna come back neither.

He takes a deep breath.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Not because I didn't wanna fight you... but because I wasn't ready t' open that door again. I spent the last thirteen years tryin' to hold down the man I used t' be. I tied him up, forced him down, hid away in the dark recesses of my mind... and I kept him down there, screamin' and yellin', as long as I could. The fact o' the matter is this, Randy... when you turned back up and you set this whole thing in motion... I wanted it... I wanted it more than you could ever believe... and that feelin'... that feelin' I ain't felt in over a damn decade?

Jarrett shakes his head.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] It felt good.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] It felt too good... so I pushed it down. I fought it and I kept it in the damn shadows as best I could. I wasn't alone in that effort either... Edge, Christian, Trish... even Chavo damn Guerrero did his best t' keep my mind away from that... that place... that you were sendin' me to. They knew what would happen... they knew that I wouldn't be able to resist... one more match.

He holds up one finger.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] One more match.

Jarrett huffs.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] You son of a bitch.

He stares hard into the camera.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] And I wouldn't have given you the satisfaction if I didn't have to, Randy... but the chaos you inflicted on my company... on my roster... innocent men and women, even? That, I can't abide.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I coulda' let it slide... I coulda' let it keep goin' 'til Edge or Christian or somebody else stepped in to put a stop to it... but I'm old and beat up, Randy. I ain't stupid. I know you woulda' never stopped 'til you got what ya' wanted. Do ya' know how I knew that?

Jarrett's cold blue eyes narrow.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Because I'm you, Randy.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] We're the same damn person.

There's more than a hint of anger, bitterness in his voice.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] And if I were in your shoes and I didn't get what I wanted... I'd raise hell 'til I got it... or I'd burn the son of a bitch to the ground.

Heavy breathing.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] It damn sure wouldn't be the first time.

It died live on pay-per-view.

It died and it died hard... and Jeff Jarrett watched it die from a monitor backstage. There was nothing he could do about it. It was like a flaming car crash waging death and destruction on everything in its path. He wished there was something he could do about it... he really did... but there was just... nothing.

He didn't have that kind of stroke.

When Jeff Jarrett purchased Solid Gold Wrestling at the end of 2005, one of his primary goals was to install the first-ever women's division in SGW's long and storied history. No one knew why... only Jeff Jarrett did... and he intended to make it happen one way or another. The recruiting process had been... difficult, to say the least. And the result of a difficult hiring process had yielded one single women's match for SGW's return pay-per-view event...

Chyna versus "Super Model" Amy Love.

The match was ugly. The match was ugly and heatless and no one cared. The boys in the back had revolted, making it clear that SGW was a boy's club and always would be. Jeff Jarrett had argued and pleaded that expansion was the answer but the results weren't there... the boys had been right. The critics were vindicated. He watched on a black and white monitor as Chyna wrestled Amy Love in the longest death march of a match anyone had ever witnessed.

The boos offended his ears... every botched move stabbed him right in the heart. What many assumed was his plan to get himself even further ingrained in the history books had failed... miserably. He certainly would be remembered for this attempt at kicking up a women's division in Solid Gold Wrestling... but not for any of the right reasons. His heart sank and he felt his blood pressure rising in real time with the jeers of the fans. He waited for the first person to tell him "I told you so."

He knew it was only a matter of time.

✞ S I X - S T R I N G  S U P R E M A C Y  2 0 0 6 ✞

He clutched the SGW World Heavyweight Championship tightly against his shoulder. It was the only thing that gave him comfort... the only thing that was stable at that point in his career. Whether the critics liked it or not, Jeff Jarrett could always count on his ability to remain the center of the promotion... the world champion... the owner. That was all that mattered. That's what he told himself.

He was jolted back to reality when he felt the feminine touch of Jillian Hall on his shoulder. She gave him a squeeze. He looked down at her and shook his head. The disappointment was apparent on his weathered features. She could tell that he was disappointed and offered a hopeful smile... but it didn't crack him. He was too far gone in his head. He sighed.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Pull the plug on it.

She looked at the monitor where Amy Love was celebrating her upset win over Chyna to dead silence from the live crowd. She looked back up at Jeff and asked him a question, even though she already knew the answer.

[ Jillian Hall ] Are you sure?

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I didn't stutter, did I? Kill the damn thing. Tell Melina I said to cancel all the girls' contracts effective immediately. The world ain't ready for this shit.

He turned away from her and put his attention back on the monitor. The girls were out of the ring and the entrances for the next match had begun. Jarrett licked his lips anxiously, clearly bothered by how events had transpired.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] SGW ain't ready for it.

Jillian removed her hand from his shoulder and clasped her hands in front of her, watching the monitor alongside him. They stood in silence for a long moment before he slowly turned his head toward her, the annoyance readily available on his face.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Well, get on with it.

She nodded timidly.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I said, effective immediately.

[ Jillian Hall ] Yes, sir.

Without another word, Jillian Hall shuffled away. Jeff Jarrett looked down at the championship on his shoulder and hoisted it up just a little bit higher. He reached over and turned off the monitor. That night was supposed to be the biggest night of his career. As the SGW World Heavyweight Champion and the owner of the company, Six-String Supremacy wasn't as much about the return of Solid Gold Wrestling as it was a celebration of Jeff Jarrett's entire career... along with the debut trailer of the movie based on his life...

Chosen One: The Legend of Jeff Jarrett - Directed by Quentin Tarantino

The truth is that it would be a historic night in Solid Gold Wrestling history. It would be a historic night in the legacy of Jeff Jarrett's career. There would be no doubting that for years... but it wouldn't be for a movie trailer or the humble beginning of a new women's division. It would be for something unexpected... something terrible.

And if Jeff Jarrett really thought it couldn't get worse...

He would be wrong.

And he was.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] The problem with wild animals in this business... is eventually, they gotta get put down... and there just ain't no humane way t' do it. I think that's the tragedy in all o' this.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Nobody ever come along that could get the job done against The Six-String Samurai... and what the hell does a wild animal do when he gets old? Does he settle down? Does he exile 'imself, never t' be heard from again? Hell, I don't know... but those options just ain't in my damn DNA...

He bows his head, shaking it gently.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Lord knows I tried.

His voice is quiet but no less stern.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] It damn near killed me.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] But I tried.

He huffs.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] We see how that turned out, don't we? Now, Solid Gold Wrestlin' is back and I'm sittin' here, two weeks out from main eventin' one more pay-per-view... one more match... one more big shot... and I already know what some o' ya'll are thinkin'... what business does my old ass got main eventin' a pay-per-view in 2020?

The moonlight offers a hint of the smirk on his face.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Well, I told you I was the bad guy.

His eyes glimmer in the light.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Kiss my ass, if ya' don't like it.

[ Trish Stratus ] I think that was the first crack in your armor.

The light in the bar was dim.

It was late and the bar was quiet... only Jeff Jarrett and Trish Stratus occupied a single booth in the corner. Everything in the bar was dark red and wooden, red and white stained glass... an antique aesthetic... and it smelled old, too. The bar had definitely seen better days.

✞ S U M M E R  2 0 1 9 ✞

Jeff Jarrett sat across the table from Trish in a gray suit. His tie was undone and his dress shirt was unbuttoned... but he looked good. He looked healthy for the first time in a long time that anyone had seen him. A glass of ice water sat a few inches from his right hand. Sitting across from him, Trish Stratus wore a black pants suit and white blouse. Trish smiled as she continued speaking.

[ Trish Stratus ] The first one we ever saw, at least.

Jeff didn't respond to her. He just watched as she spoke.

[ Trish Stratus ] Losing the women's division, I mean.

She looked down at the glass of water in front of her.

[ Trish Stratus ] That was the first time a lot of us realized that you didn't always get what you wanted... that you couldn't just... do anything you wanted... that you weren't this indestructible, invincible... something.

She smiled timidly, trying to meet his gaze.

[ Trish Stratus ] You went up against the world... and the world pushed back... hard. Really, really hard. You have to know that no one lost respect for you over that. You tried something that no one else was doing at the time... so what if it didn't work out? You were a hero for even giving it a shot.

As she continued speaking, Jarrett let his mind run wild. That was the first crack in his armor, huh? He thought back to all the other cracks that had formed over the years. He thought back to being stripped of his first SGW World Championship because Shane McMahon took over the company and wanted to shake things up. It had made him feel worthless. He wasn't even put in the mix for the championship even though he never lost the title in the ring. It took him ages to get over the level of self-doubt that put in his head.

He thought about Arn Anderson putting together The Apokolips, a ragtag band of misfits and monsters designed to screw Jeff Jarrett out of his second SGW World Heavyweight Championship. They had stolen his championship and even kidnapped Trish Stratus in the process... and while Jeff Jarrett's roaring rampage of revenge had ultimately earned Trish Stratus' freedom... it also caused the company to fold for a time.

And he thought about his best friend, Vince Russo, turning his back on him at WrestleBrawl 2. After defeating Ric Flair in the biggest match of his career, Vince Russo orchestrated a coup that would see Jeff Jarrett overthrown and ousted from power. He was going to retire after the match anyway... but that wasn't the point, dammit. It was the principle of the matter. His friend betrayed him, put a knife clean through his back.

But all of those paled in comparison to what happened in the closing moments of Six-String Supremacy... when Trish Stratus betrayed Jeff Jarrett after years of a successful business partnership... and personal relationship. She turned her back on him, leaving him vulnerable for Christian Cage to brutalize him, cash in his Golden Ticket, and strip him of the one thing that had kept his life together up to that point... the SGW World Heavyweight Championship. In one fell swoop, Jeff Jarrett lost his championship, his woman, and his position in charge of the company. The woman he trusted more than any other person in the entire world had betrayed him and cost him everything he had.

He stared across the table at her and smirked.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] That wasn't the first crack.

[ Trish Stratus ] I don't imagine it was... but it was the first one any of us ever saw... that you ever let us see, at least. That women's division meant a lot to you, I know. It meant a lot to Jillian, too.

He scoffed and looked away.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I didn't put it together for her.

Trish doesn't respond.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I built it for you.

She already knew that.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] It's gonna work this time, ya' know.

[ Trish Stratus ] It's a little late for that now.

Jarrett took a drink of his water.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Story o' my life.

Jarrett looked down at his watch and then turned his head to take a look at the bar, seeing no one else in sight. He took a deep breath and then clasped his hands in front of him on the table.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] So, when are we meetin' this girl?

[ Trish Stratus ] She was supposed to be here an hour ago, I think.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Jesus, woman. I thought you said this girl was the future of the division? And she can't even get to a damn negotiation on time? This is some big money on the table.

Trish smiled.

[ Trish Stratus ] Relax, Jeff. It's Reno.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] The hell is that supposed to mean?

[ Trish Stratus ] It's different here. People run on their own time.

Jarrett shook his head but couldn't help but smile.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] It's always been about me.

He lets that sit.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] All of it... it ain't never been about the boys or doin' what's right for the business. I took Solid Gold Wrestlin' because I wanted it... because Arn Anderson was a stupid, stubborn son of a bitch that didn't deserve it. I wanted it because I could control it... I could use it as a damn weapon to do as I please... and there wasn't nobody that could stop me.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Pro Wrestling Online, All Pro Wrestling, Revolution Wrestling... ain't none of 'em could compare t' me and what I could do at the helm o' this company. I proved it over and over 'til it got boring. It was sooner rather than later that puttin' those other companies outta' business, takin' their world titles for my own, just felt like clubbin' baby seals.

He looks down at the floor.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Eventually, I guess... that's what all of it felt like.

And then back up into the camera.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Everything just got to be too easy. We were a damn runaway success. I had no problem keepin' the world title where I needed it... the whole damn world was at my fingertips. Pretty soon, ya' get so damn bored of fightin' enemies from the outside, ya' start lookin' for the ones at your back... the ones you've kept close 'cause you know that knife to the back is comin'... I knew they were comin'...

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] And they damn sure did.

 Blood was everywhere.

The roar of the fans was still reverberating throughout the building, following the heated match which main evented the second hour of the then-biggest Solid Gold Wrestling pay-per-view event in history. "The Nature Boy" Ric Flair was being tended to by medical experts, blood staining his features. His bleached blonde hair was red at its most saturated points and a dull pink everywhere else. Still clad in his wrestling gear, black tights and red boots, Flair allowed the medics to do their work. It wasn't the first time he'd been busted open.

It wouldn't be the last.

There was a shuffle and crash that alerted everyone in the room. They looked up at saw Jeff Jarrett being helped into the room by two referees, Charles Robinson and Jimmy Korderas. Jarrett was busted open as well, following the same match. Still clad in his own wrestling gear, silver tights with gold trim. Jarrett was ushered into a seat, only a few feet away from Ric Flair. Rather than accept help, Jarrett pushed the medic assigned to him away.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Get the hell away from me.

[ Medic ] Jeff, you should really--

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I said GIT, god dammit!

Without another word, the medic offered a nod of assurance and walked out of the room. Jeff Jarrett sat only a few feet away from his most hated rival... the man he won his first Solid Gold Wrestling World Heavyweight Championship from... the man he took his first League of Champions World Heavyweight Championship from... and the man who followed him back to Solid Gold Wrestling for revenge. They had just left it all in the ring in front of the then-biggest SGW crowd in history. Jeff Jarrett had won... and it was finally over, once and for all. That's what Jeff Jarrett thought until he saw Ric Flair gesture toward his own medic and point at the door.

[ Ric Flair ] Get outta' here, kid.

✞ J U L Y  3 0  t h , 2 0 0 6 ✞
✞ W R E S T L E B R A W L  2  ✞

The medic tending to Ric Flair turned around without a word and left the room. Flair picked up a towel and dabbed at the blood on his forehead and face before wiping down his chest, permanently ruining the white towel, turning it into almost tie-dye design made of crimson and pink. Jeff Jarrett and Ric Flair sat there in silence for a full minute but it felt more like forever. They had given it their all... bled buckets... ended everything on their terms.

However, things had not ended there.

While Flair was done for the night, Jeff Jarrett wasn't... and he was betrayed by those he trusted. Vince Russo, the Harris Brothers, Alex Shelley, Rob Conway. Jillian Hall was on the way to a local medical facility because of what they had done... and Jeff Jarrett was still there, within arms reach of a man, only a few minutes ago, that he hated enough to beat him within an inch of his life. Ric Flair huffed.

[ Ric Flair ] I bet ya' feel real stupid now, huh.

Jarrett didn't even look at Flair, unfazed by the comment.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I don't feel too smart, that's for damn sure.

[ Ric Flair ] Heh.

Ric Flair reached down and picked up a bottle of water from the floor next to his chair. He twisted off the cap and took a drink. He stared at the wall in front of him... there was chatter from several feet away, Don Callis and Joey Styles calling the next match on a monitor nearby. Neither man paid it any mind.

[ Ric Flair ] That Vince Russo... he's a snake.

He took another drink and then poured the water over his face.

[ Ric Flair ] Shoulda' never trusted that son of a bitch.

Jeff Jarrett let those words wash over him... and then he said something that he knew was true, even if it couldn't possibly be true anymore. Words that he felt like he had thought but maybe he had never vocalized... and maybe that's why what happened, happened.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] He's my best friend.

Flair's reply was dull and lifeless... acceptance.

[ Ric Flair ] Yeah.

Flair turned his head to look at Jarrett.

[ Ric Flair ] Appreciate the match, kid.

He extended his hand across the distance between them.

[ Ric Flair ] Always hoped I'd go out on a classic.

Jarrett turned his head and looked down at Flair's hand. There was a moment of hesitation where he debated whether or not she should accept the gesture... but then he did. They shook hands, firm... respectful.

[ Ric Flair ] Hopefully somebody will do the same for you one day.

They let go of one another and Jarrett brought his hand back down and rested it on his thigh. He took a deep breath and looked down at the floor, looking for the words.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I think this is it for me, too.

Flair smirked and stood up. He began gathering his things.

[ Ric Flair ] No, it's not.

Jarrett shook his head.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Maybe not... but all the damn jackals and hyenas runnin' around this place, willin' to do whatever it takes... undercuttin' anybody they can to get ahead. They can have the damn place for all I care. See how long it runs without me steerin' the ship.

Flair picked up his bag and set it on his chair.

[ Ric Flair ] Whatever you say, chief... but this ain't the end for you.

Flair stared down at Jarrett, stern... serious.

[ Ric Flair ] Not by a damn long shot. Know how I know?

Jarrett looked up at Flair, not answering him verbally.

[ Ric Flair ] 'Cause you 'n me... we're the same, pal.

He let that linger in the air for a moment.

[ Ric Flair ] Cut from the same cloth.

He pointed down at Jarrett, telling him with confidence.

[ Ric Flair ] Goin' quietly ain't our specialty.

Flair picked up his bag and walked toward the door. He turned around as he placed his hand on the door handle. He took one last look at Jarrett, the last look he would have at him for over a decade.

[ Ric Flair ] Good luck, kid. Gimme a call the next time you're in Charlotte.

And then he was gone. Jeff Jarrett sat in the room, silent, letting the chatter between Don Callis and Joey Styles fill the void. Soon, Jeff Jarrett couldn't even hear them. He was alone with his thoughts and they began to consume him.

Some where deep in his soul...

A decision was made.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I was done with it all... and I tried t' leave it behind. I locked myself in my house, drowned myself in whiskey, and I waited for the day that the ghosts of my past might come a knockin'...

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I knew they would eventually... but I had no idea what form they'd take. The cash infusion from the damn Saudis? I never saw that shit comin'... and I never intended t' take it... but when a big ol' heap o' money gets laid on the table, that's when folks you ain't heard from in years start comin' out the woodwork.

Jarrett huffs.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] The fans wanted it... the boys wanted it... and I ain't gonna lie to ya'... I kinda' wanted it, too. No matter how hard I tried t' fight it and tell myself that it'd never work, that I couldn't do it and be the selfless kinda' fella' that I'd need t' be in this day 'n age... I wanted it so bad that I could damn near taste it.

Jarrett's eyes narrow, illuminated by the moon.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Now, you're probably wonderin why I offered your ass a contract, Randy... knowin' that you 'n me had the kinda' heat we got... maybe I knew you'd come for me. Maybe you'd been comin' for me all along, even if you didn't know it.

He leans forward in the chair and points at the camera.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] We all got our demons... and no matter what that demon is, what it represents... sooner or later, we gotta put that demon behind us once 'n for all. Is that why I brought SGW back? To settle you 'n me for all time?

Jarrett shakes his head.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Don't be an idiot.

A cynical smile crosses his face.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I ain't that damn stupid... but I'd be lyin' if I said it didn't cross my mind. I knew you'd accept the contract and... and I had an idea that you 'n me might cross paths eventually and this match would happen. If I'm bein' totally honest with ya', I imagined it would happen a damn sight sooner 'n this... but...

Jarrett taps his temple with his index finger.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Arn Anderson and Adam Cole had other ideas, I guess. We tried t' prevent somethin' like this from happenin', anyway... put clauses in the Championship Committee contracts, sayin' we couldn't put our hands on nobody without forfeitin' our spots... 'n sooner or later, those clauses got relaxed here 'n there 'til you only lost your spot if you were challengin' for a title belt.

That cynical smile returns.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Funny how the rules in wrestlin' work, huh, Randy? How we put 'em in place and then manipulate 'em to fit what we need t' happen... twist 'em up and mutilate 'em 'til they barely resemble what we put 'em in place t' begin with. If this whole thing blew up before WrestleBrawl 3, I couldn't have had this match without givin' up my spot... and now... ain't nobody gives a shit, I reckon.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Ain't nobody could tell me otherwise, anyway.

The smile falters and Jarrett is suddenly cold again.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Not after you threatened t' lay hands on her.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] All them other jokers you left layin' in your path t' gettin' your way at Supremacy... I coulda' let you lay waste to a dozen more... but Trish... she's a dear friend o' mine. Always has been, despite her many deceptions along the way. What you threatened t' do t' her... well... that, I can't abide.

Glass shattered on the wall next to him.

Jillian Hall had become a raving bitch in the days since WrestleBrawl 2.

Jeff Jarrett looked down at the shattered remnants of a vase that laid in the floor next to him. His face turned red as the realization of what just happened began to sink in. At eye level, he could see the indention in the wall along with the chipped paint. Jarrett snapped his head in the direction of the doorway and saw Jillian Hall standing there in a short blue dress, trembling with anger. Her eyes were opened so wide that they threatened to roll from her sockets and rest on her cheeks. Her bottom lip jutted outward like a spoiled toddler. Her shoulders and more than generous chest heaved up and down with each heavy breath. Jarrett sneered, furious... though his voice was filled with disbelief.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Woman, are you outta' your god damn mind?!

She stamped her foot on the hardwood floor.

[ Jillian Hall ] You canceled my credit cards!? How dare you!?

Jarrett glared at her, becoming impossibly angrier.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I don't think so! I canceled my credit cards! What the hell do ya' think you're doin', huh?! We ain't in the business no more, Jillian! The money ain't rollin' in like it used to! You're goin' around buyin' up ever' damn thing you can find and I've about had enough of it! You can't go on spendin' like this!

She grabbed a lamp off a nearby table, yanked the cord out of the wall and drew back with it. Jarrett turned sideways, putting his hand out in a defensive stance. He cocked his head to the side, eyeing her with intensity.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Don't even think about it! Put that down!

Tears streamed down her face.

[ Jillian Hall ] You ruined everything! We had the whole world in our hands and you threw it away for no reason, you selfish prick!

She slammed the lamp down on the floor, shattering it. She clenched both of her fists tightly at her sides, crying with mascara running down her cheeks. She stamped her feet once again, screaming at the top of her lungs.

[ Jillian Hall ] I hate you, Jeff! I FUCKING HATE YOU!

Jarrett took a step forward, stomping hard on the floor as he pointed in his finger in her direction, shouting, red in the face. Spittle flew from his mouth as he raised his voice.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Well, I hate you, too!

She huffed and stormed off, leaving Jarrett standing in what had been their bedroom... and then he grabbed a lamp off the nightstand and flung it at the doorway where she had been standing. It shattered on the floor and glass skidded down the hallway, coming to a stop somewhere at the top of the staircase.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Ya' gold diggin' whore!

There was an obnoxious buzzing sound as Jarrett's cell phone went off on the nightstand. He remained standing there for a moment, staring at the doorway before he turned and acknowledged the vibrating phone. He picked it up and looked at the person's name. Jarrett shook his head... he didn't know why he bothered to answer the phone... but he did.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] What do ya' want, Val?

✞ S E P T E M B E R  2 0 0 6 ✞

Jarrett stood there with the phone to his ear, waiting for an answer. After several long seconds, he finally received one. The voice of Val Venis was low and gravelly but not in the way Jarrett was used to... this wasn't Val's "gimmick" voice. He wasn't cutting a promo. There was something else there... anger... frustration... years of hatred boiling over.

[ Val Venis ] You son of a bitch.

Jarrett didn't respond. He stood there in silence and let Venis continue.

[ Val Venis ] You no good... selfish... piece of shit.

Jarrett closed his eyes.

[ Val Venis ] You just couldn't leave it alone... I... I don't even know what to say to you right now... I thought it might-- I thought it might come to me when I heard your voice but I'll be honest with you... I didn't think you would have the balls to answer the phone.

Jarrett finally spoke.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Well, say what you gotta say and leave me the hell alone.

Jarrett opened his eyes and narrowed them. His voice was commanding... stern.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] 'Cause this is the last time you 'n me are ever gonna speak.

Venis fired back, angry.

[ Val Venis ] Don't you dare, Jeff. Don't you fucking dare give me permission to speak. You're not the man anymore. You're not the owner of your own personal wrestling antfarm anymore... you're nothing... you're nothing but the guy who shut down his company at the peak of its success... putting hundreds of people out of work... and why? Why the hell did you do it?

Jarrett didn't answer, allowing Venis' question to hang in the air.

[ Val Venis ] I'll tell you why... because you're a coward.

Jarrett let those words wash over him.

[ Val Venis ] You're a god damn coward.

Jarrett shut his eyes once again and lowered his head.

[ Val Venis ] Those people counted on you... guys like Matt Hardy, Rob Conway, Alex Shelley... those guys counted on you and what do they have to show for it? Nothing. You left them... with nothing. I gave years... YEARS of my life to that company even though you and your two sniveling lackeys shit on my legacy every time you got a chance... and why? Because I was Arn Anderson's boy? Arn Anderson and his Apokolips fucked me over, too, Jeff. I wasn't the fucking bad guy.

Jarrett nodded and opened his eyes. He took a deep breath.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] You're right, Val... you ain't the bad guy.

His voice was low, monotone.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I am.

He exhaled... and he sounded how he felt... dead inside.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Always have been.

Venis' voice became lower... almost a whisper.

[ Val Venis ] Fuck you, Jeff.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Yeah.

Jarrett hung up the phone and pitched his phone onto the bed. He walked out of the room and looked around the house. He saw no sign of Jillian Hall. He walked from room to room before finding one of her closets open, completely ransacked. A suitcase was missing from her luggage. She was gone and there was nothing he could do about it... but he didn't care. He wandered into his study where a bottle of whiskey waited for him on his desk. He poured a glass and sat down in his leather desk chair.

He didn't think about Jillian Hall.

He didn't think about the empty house around him.

He didn't even think about the words Val Venis said to him.

But he thought about Solid Gold Wrestling.

And he drank.

She was angry.

She had tears in her eyes, she was so angry.

When Lance Storm and D-Von Dudley hauled Jeff Jarrett through the curtain, he was still in bad shape, having been given an RKO right in the center of the ring, out of nowhere. They helped him to a nearby chair and Justin Credible was there in a hurry with a bottle of water, holding it up to Jarrett's mouth. Jarrett used what little energy he had left to push Credible's hand away and then lowered his face into his hands, doing everything in his power to shake off the effects of the devastating maneuver.

The fans were still losing their minds in the arena. They could feel their excitement in their feet, the vibrations. Taking a deep breath, Jeff Jarrett leaned his head back against the wall behind him and took a deep breath. Lance Storm stood up and gestured for everyone else to back away.

[ Lance Storm ] Give him room, guys.

Out of the corner of his eye, a flash of pink and black darted past him and he did his best to stop her... he really did... but he'd gotten slow in his old age.

[ Lance Storm ] Trish, no--

She didn't even look at the former SGW World Heavyweight Champion as she approached the seated Jeff Jarrett... and slapped him hard across the face, startling him and waking him up from his stupor at the same time. Jarrett touched his cheek and looked up at her with wide eyes. Storm, Credible, D-Von... arena security... they all looked on in surprise. Trish's chest heaved up and down with each heavy, angry breath.

[ Trish Stratus ] You son of a bitch.

They looked at each other in silence for a long time. She spoke through gritted teeth, once again.

[ Trish Stratus ] You stupid, stupid son of a bitch.

She shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes.

[ Trish Stratus ] How dare you?

[ Lance Storm ] Trish, give him time--

She turned and jammed her finger in his face, shouting.

[ Trish Stratus ] Shut up, Lance! No one cares!

She pointed off in no particular direction... just away.

[ Trish Stratus ] Don't you have someone else to go BORE right now?

Lance Storm shook his head and walked away without a word. Credible and the others followed without incident. Trish placed her hands on her hips and turned to face Jarrett, glaring down at him as she trembled with anger.

[ Trish Stratus ] I can't believe you, Jeff... I can't BELIEVE you. You just couldn't resist, could you? You had to take the match, didn't you? You just had to have one more big moment of glory. Well, I hope you're proud of yourself because--

[ Jeff Jarrett ] He woulda' caved your damn head in.

[ Trish Stratus ] Then let him cave my head in, Jeff.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Are you outta your damn mind?

[ Trish Stratus ] You haven't wrestled in over a decade. Your PATHETIC performance in the WrestleBrawl match doesn't count. Randy Orton is in the prime of his life and he's pissed off... he's going to eat you alive. You have to know that, right?

She shook her head, disgusted.

[ Trish Stratus ] Or is that the whole point?

She wiped her eye with her finger.

[ Trish Stratus ] Is this some kind of... career suicide thing?

Jarrett looked down at the floor.

[ Trish Stratus ] Is that what this is? You accepted the match because you hope he finishes you off? That's BULLSHIT, Jeff. You don't owe these people anything. You don't owe Randy Orton ANYTHING. Look at what you've built in just six months.

She gestured toward their surroundings.

[ Trish Stratus ] SIX MONTHS!

Jarrett looked up at her, a stern look on his face.

[ Trish Stratus ] You've given them enough.

Jarrett gently shook his head.

[ Trish Stratus ] You've given them everything.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Not yet.

Jarrett braced himself against the wall and used what little strength he had left to stand up. He shook his head to escape the cobwebs and then started to walk away. Trish watched him, raging.

[ Trish Stratus ] I won't be there.

Jarrett stopped in his tracks but didn't look back.

[ Trish Stratus ] If you go through with this match, I won't be there.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Well... stay your ass at home, then.

Jarrett walked away, using the wall to brace himself. Trish Stratus watched him leave, quaking with anger. She had been by Jeff Jarrett's side since the beginning of his Solid Gold Wrestling career, standing by him and Vince Russo when Jeff Jarrett had won his first three SGW World Heavyweight Championships... their relationship had become unfortunately fractured when she threw in with Edge and Christian at Six-String Supremacy over thirteen years ago and she had not heard from him again since SGW's closure until the day he invited her take part as the director of authority over the SGW Women's Division.

The truth was that she had always admired Jeff Jarrett and what he had given her, as well as the power he exhibited when he was in charge of Solid Gold Wrestling. Helping Edge and Christian tear him down in 2006 was not a decision that she took lightly... and while she did not regret the action itself, she regretted that it had been necessary.

As she watched Jeff Jarrett walk away, toward an uncertain destiny, she felt her heart sink. She had no doubt that the Jeff Jarrett from 2006 and back could do what needed to be done but this wasn't that Jeff Jarrett. This was a Jeff Jarrett who had transcended his humanity and ascended to godhood, if only for a brief moment... and then fell back to Earth, broken... changed forever.

He wasn't the Jesus Christ Superstar anymore.

He wasn't the Six-String Samurai.

He wasn't even the Chosen One.

She wouldn't be there for him at Supremacy.

But she hoped for the best for him.

Even if she hated him for doing it.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I ain't sayin' this is happenin' because of a woman. I ain't gonna reduce what we got t' that... though you threatenin' her did light a fire under my ass, I'll admit.

He sighs.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Naw, Randy... I reckon this match is happenin' 'cause you 'n me's been doin' this dance since 2006 and it's time the music comes to a stop... and you were right when you said it should end where it began.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Supremacy.

The word hangs in the air dramatically.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] At Six-String Supremacy in 2006, I set you up... under the guise of settin' you up for success, I set your ass up for a level of success that you wasn't ready for. I sent your career on a trajectory that'd see you become the SGW World Heavyweight Champion long 'fore you was ever ready for it... and I did it because that's what I wanted. That's what I needed outta' you t' get SGW where I needed it t' be.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I needed you t' stamp out the old guard... t' kill the legends like your nickname promised... and I did a damn fine job of settin' you up t' do just that. So... naw, it ain't about a girl. It was never about a girl. It's about me 'n you... settlin' damn near fifteen years of bad blood in one night... in one match... on the biggest card in Solid Gold Wrestlin' history.

Heavy breathing.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] This ain't gonna be some long, drawn out rivalry like me 'n Ric Flair... that shit went on way too long and it ended the only way it could. There wasn't no way anybody but me was comin' out on top that night at WrestleBrawl 2... I knew that... and dammit, Ric Flair knew it, too. It had t' end there... because if it didn't, it never would. He made me work for it, every step o' the way... but I did it.

He points at the camera.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I did... what I had t' do.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] We ain't doin' that same shit I did with Ric Flair. This one is one 'n done... one time for all time, Randy Orton... and as far as how this one goes down? Hell, I don't even know. Logic says the old dog goes down and the up and comer goes over... lives t' fight another day.

Humor in his voice.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] But let's not fool ourselves here, Randy. Ain't neither one of us a young up and comer... ain't neither one of us is in position to live 'n fight another day. This is it. This is the end... ain't neither one of us walkin' away from this as the same man that walked in. I'm gonna give you everything I got... and I know you're gonna give me all the same.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] We're a couple o' dead men walkin', Randy.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Ain't neither one of us deserves t' walk away from what we done in this business with our head held high. There's men and women I crossed in my career that deserves t' have their revenge on me a helluva' lot more 'n you do... and there's men 'n women you crossed that deserve t' put your ass down a helluva' lot more 'n I do.

He sighs.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] But that ain't the card we got dealt, is it?

He leans back in the chair. His face is bathed in shadow.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Naw... I don't reckon it is... 'n now here we are, on a collision course of self-destruction... two men with nothin' left t' gain... nothin' left t' lose... and ain't nothin' nobody can do but sit back 'n watch... and hope that the lesser of two evils walks away, livin' t' tell the story for all time.

Silence for a moment... dead air in the darkness.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] As for which one of us that is? The lesser of two evils? I'm afraid I ain't the one qualified t' answer that question... 'n I doubt I ever will be. It'll be history that makes that judgment, I suppose.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I don't think it's me.

He leans forward, revealing his eyes to the moon again.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] But I know it ain't you.

He swore it would never happen.

And for a long time... it didn't.

For over a decade, Jeff Jarrett kept his word and never laid eyes on Vince Russo another day in his life. For over a decade, that was one of the few truths that Jeff Jarrett could tell himself without an ounce of shame. Lying awake at night, thinking about every regrettable decision he'd ever made that led him to that point in his life, Jeff Jarrett never second guessed his decision to cut Vince Russo out completely and pretend that he never existed. It didn't matter if they had been best friends for years and it didn't matter if Vince Russo had managed him to four of his five world championships. It was a decision that needed to be made... and he made it.

For good reason.

WrestleBrawl 2 had been a historic night for a multitude of reasons:

Edge became the SGW World Champion for the first time.

SGW finally conquered APW once and for all.

Raven entered the WrestleBrawl match at number one and won.

Val Venis admitted his respect for Tom Cruise.

And Vince Russo shit on years of friendship by turning on Jeff Jarrett after the biggest victory of his entire career, leaving him and Jillian Hall brutally beaten at the hands of Rob Conway, Alex Shelley, and the Harris Brothers. Vince Russo had forsaken the Six-String Samurai in order to forge his own legacy in Solid Gold Wrestling at the helm of Sports Entertainment Xtreme.

Jeff Jarrett should have been able to say he saw it coming all along... Vince Russo had always been a snake... but for how much of a snake he was, Jeff Jarrett trusted him. Jeff Jarrett didn't see it coming. He'd made the same mistake he warned so many others about during his career... and turned his back at the opportune moment. Trish Stratus turning on Jeff Jarrett to side with Edge and Christian hurt him... and it took him a long time to get over it, if he ever did. Vince Russo turning on him at WrestleBrawl 2, throwing him away like trash... did something worse.

It broke his heart.

✞ B U R G E R  K I N G ✞
✞ J U N E  2 0 2 0 ✞

Vince Russo sat across from Jeff Jarrett in an empty Burger King, looking worse for wear. His hair and beard were disheveled and gray, and his New York Yankees t-shirt was dirty, appearing unwashed, probably having been worn for days by that point. In front of him, sat a Triple Whopper with cheese and fries. He slurped on a large drink, filled to the brim with a concoction made from Mountain Dew, Coca Cola, Dr. Pepper, and Orange Fanta. He showed no regard for the stern Six-String Samurai sitting across from him with no food in front of him.

He wasn't hungry.

His anger wouldn't let him eat.

Vince Russo dipped a bundle of fries into a pool of ketchup and then transported them to an equally large pool of mayonnaise. He held them up in front of him for Jeff to see, dripping with red and white.

[ Vince Russo ] Bro, ya' gotta get equal parts ketchup 'n mayo.

He shoves them in his mouth, leaving traces of mayonnaise in his beard. He chews with his mouth open but Jarrett doesn't look away. He doesn't even flinch. Finally, he speaks with a low but forceful tone.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] So... why'd ya' do it, Russo?

Russo put down a second handful of fries and sighed.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] And don't bullshit me.

Jarrett pointed at the nearby exit.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I'll walk right the hell outta here if you bullshit me.

Vince Russo looked at him with pleading eyes.

[ Vince Russo ] Jeff... it was da' only way, bro.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Is that so?

Jarrett's eyes narrowed.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] On the biggest pay-per-view of all time?

[ Vince Russo ] Bro, I mean... if ya' gonna do it... do it big, am I right?

Jarrett allowed that to sit in the air for a moment before he leaned back in his seat and glared at Russo, not amused.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] But why the hell did ya' have to dress like Alf?

Oh.

They were talking about THAT WrestleBrawl incident.

Vince Russo leaned back in his own seat and ran his hands through his hair. He exhaled deeply and looked ashamed.

[ Vince Russo ] Bro, it was da' only way they'd let me in the buildin'. I jus' showed up in the fuckin' costume and they LET me in. Bro, how fucked is that? They thought I was some clown that Maria booked for da' show.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] That don't even make sense, Russo. How'd you get in the damn match? You had t' take somebody's spot. We didn't just have some random open spot in the middle o' the biggest match on the card!

Russo shrugged.

[ Vince Russo ] Harpa'.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] The hell you mean, Harper?

[ Vince Russo ] Luke Harpa'. He was sittin' outside the arena, I offered 'im a pack o' smokes t' fuck off somewhere and the son of a bitch was more than happy t' do it. Bro, dude is insane. I hear he's got a hot tub and a sauna but bro looks like SHIT.

Jarrett scratched his chin and huffed.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] So, that's where that sumbitch disappeared to.

[ Vince Russo ] Insane, bro.

Jeff Jarrett tapped his finger on the table, looking down and away from Russo.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Well, with that answered... that leads me t' my next question, Russo. Why the hell'd you come back at all? You had t' know there's still heat.

[ Vince Russo ] Yeah, I know, bro.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] The kinda' heat, can't be ignored.

[ Vince Russo ] Yeah.

He swallowed hard.

[ Vince Russo ] Fuck.

Russo reached down and picked up his Whopper but then looked disgusted by it before setting it back down and covering it with the wrapper. His shoulders slumped as he looked up at Jarrett, having shrunken into his seat.

[ Vince Russo ] I want back in, Jeff.

Russo began clamoring for the words before Jarrett could cut him off.

[ Vince Russo ] Doin' what I did at WrestleBrawl 2 was da' biggest fuckin' mistake o' my life, Jeff. I knew you was checkin' out after takin' out that piece o' shit Flair... 'n I saw a fuckin' moment to strike 'n make my fuckin' mark. I swear, it wasn't fuckin' personal... it wasn't about shittin' on you or ya' legacy, it was about keepin what we had alive... and if ya' just left... ya' put a target on all our backs... mine, Snitsky, Conway, Shelley, da' Harris Brothers... fuckin' all of us. We were dead without you.

Russo balled up a fist and lightly dropped it on the table.

[ Vince Russo ] We had t' make a fuckin' statement... that even without Jeff Jarrett, we were a fuckin' force t' be reckoned with, ya' know? God damn, you had that company on its fuckin' KNEES! How the fuck were were supposed t' follow that shit, bro?! We did... what we had t' do.

He shooks his head sadly.

[ Vince Russo ] How da' fuck was we supposed t' know that you already had contingencies in place? Fuckin' Dusty Rhodes. Jim Cornette! God damn! You thought that shit hurt you when we turned on your ass? How do ya' think it made me feel when I found out you chose Jim fuckin' Cornette to replace you instead o' me?

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Vince, I--

[ Vince Russo ] You were my best god damn friend.

Jeff Jarrett looked right into Russo's eyes.

[ Vince Russo ] That shit... THAT fuckin' hurt, bro.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I did what I felt was right for the company.

Russo huffed.

[ Vince Russo ] Well, look how that shit turned out, huh.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Point taken.

They both chuckled.

[ Vince Russo ] You got a good thing goin', Jeff. You're killin' this shit. Every two fuckin' weeks, some o' da' best talent in the whole god damn world, makin' history every single fuckin' time... it's absolutely INSANE, bro. I need t' be a part o' this. I need to get what we had back on track. This is fuckin' history, bro.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Not a chance.

[ Vince Russo ] Fuck.

They sat in silence for what felt like a full minute.

[ Vince Russo ] For real, bro?

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Yeah.

Jarrett let that hang for a moment.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] That's as real as it gets.

Russo looked down at the tray in front of him and then picked up the sandwich, taking a large and sloppy bite. He chewed obnoxiously and then swallowed before putting it down. He used a napkin to wipe the ketchup and mayonnaise away from his beard. He placed both hands flat on the table and leaned across, looking Jarrett dead in the eyes, a genuinely concerned look on his face.

[ Vince Russo ] Bro.

Dramatic pause.

[ Vince Russo ] What the fuck are ya' gonna do?

Jarrett raised an eyebrow.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] About what?

[ Vince Russo ] Ya' know what I'm talkin' about, Jeff.

Jarrett solemnly nodded.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I reckon I do.

[ Vince Russo ] Orton.

Russo's eyes narrowed and his voice got lower.

[ Vince Russo ] What the fuck are ya' gonna do?

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I'm gonna do what I always do, Russo.

They stared one another down.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Win.

Russo shook his head, genuinely worried.

[ Vince Russo ] I don't think so, Jeff. You... Ya' can't beat him. Look at him... he's younga' 'n you... he's jacked... bro is in betta' shape now than you ever was at any point in ya' entire career. And he's pissed, Jeff. He's fuckin' PISSED... 'n you KNOW why he's pissed. Da' shit we put that kid through... god damn, Jeff, he killed fuckin' Taz for you!

[ Jeff Jarrett ] He did.

Jarrett nodded quietly.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] He did everything I ever asked him t' do.

[ Vince Russo ] Dude is a fuckin' monster, Jeff.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I know.

[ Vince Russo ] And we made him that way.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] ...I know.

[ Vince Russo ] Let me help you.

Russo pulled an old flip phone out of his pocket and opened it.

[ Vince Russo ] I got Snitsky and the Harris boys on speed dial. We'll hit da' fuckin' ring at Supremacy and run a fuckin' TRAIN on Randy Orton. I'm tellin' you, bro, he ain't ready for this shit!

[ Jeff Jarrett ] No.

Jarrett shook his head. Russo looked defeated.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Not this time.

Jarrett sits in silence for a moment, thinking it over.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] This one's on me.

[ Vince Russo ] God damn, Jeff.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Look, I know why ya' came here and it ain't 'cause you want back in. You never gave a damn about wrestlin' and ya' still don't. It's just that cruel irony that it's the one thing you were good at. I get it... but you're here for the same reason I laid awake at night for over a decade, thinkin' 'bout all the bad shit I did... all the people I screwed over along the way... and how I could never make it all right, even if I spent the whole rest o' my life tryin' t' do just that.

Russo swallowed hard.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I ain't never gonna forget what you did t' me at WrestleBrawl 2 and the hardship it brought upon me and mine. It just ain't the kinda' thing that ever goes away... but I understand why you did it... and...

Russo's eyes begin to well up with tears.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I forgive you.

Russo used one of the abrasive, brown Burger King napkins to wipe his eye before a single tear fell and sullied his manhood in front of the man he once called his best friend.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] By that same token... I can't accept your help. Maybe Randy Orton is better 'n me. Maybe he is bigger 'n stronger 'n me... and maybe he'll beat my ass like it ain't never been beat... but... that's 'tween me 'n him. I'm the one that recruited him into SGW and I'm the one who turned him into what he is today. I know why I did the shit I done and I've stood by it far longer than any man should have to endure.

Russo nodded, understanding.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] One o' two things is gonna happen at Supremacy, Russo. Either Randy Orton is gonna have his revenge and end the legend of the Six-String Samurai once 'n for all... or he ain't.

Jarrett looks down at his hand on the table.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] But either way it falls, it's my responsibility t' handle it on my own.

Russo wiped his eyes again, his bottom lip jutting outward.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Nobody else's.

They sat there in silence for a long moment before Jarrett plopped his hand down, open palm on the table, jarring Russo back to reality.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Let's get the hell outta' here.

And they did.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] This is my world.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] This is my company... this... is my legacy. I love it and I hate it at the same time, Randy Orton. I admire what I've built... and I look upon it in disgust, all the same. I've known for a long time that the day would come that I'd have t' pay for the things I've done... I've known that, one day... I'd have to answer for the path I set you down in 2006... how I directed you t' do the things you've done and then cut you loose...

Jarrett looks down momentarily.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] You're my responsibility... the things you've done in my name, it's my job to right those wrongs in the eyes of the people that look t' me t' maintain order 'round here. One thing I've come t' realize over the years is how all o' this... it's bigger 'n me. See, I truly believe that this is my world... all o' this... revolves around me... I guess that's my curse, t' see things in that light but t' have the wisdom t' know that it ain't true.

He sighs.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I ain't the man I used t' be... but I wish I was. Ain't that a son of a bitch? T' sit here and know when you're in the wrong but want it all the same? T' want the glory that came with bein' the mean ol' son of a bitch that ya' used t' be? It's a damn shame t' have those feelin's, Randy... t' have your mind tell you what you're capable of... but t' have your body tell you over 'n over that you ain't no more. T' have your friends and colleagues reel you back in when ya' start t' drift too close t' the fire...

He shakes his head.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] There's companies I've wanted t' put in the ground since SGW come back... two I can think of right off the top o' my head. Just the thought of puttin' 'em out o' business makes me feel all warm 'n tingly inside... but I can't.

He stares hard into the camera... melting you into your seat with his eyes.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] That's a helluva' thing to accept, that kind o' power, I mean. It ain't what I'm used to... the knowledge that you can destroy somethin' or somebody but the restraint t' keep yourself from doin' it? It's a bitch, Randy... it's a real bitch. But I reckon it's what separates us from the animals. It's damn sure what separates me from you.

The moon illuminates his eyes once again.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] 'Cause if you coulda' kept your ass in check... I coulda' lived with Randy Orton as the SGW World Heavyweight Champion. Who knows how long you coulda' reigned if you just kept your focus and did what you had t' do?

He leans forward.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I coulda' let that happen... I coulda' let you be the man who broke all the records and went on t' become the greatest SGW World Heavyweight Champion of all time. I tell myself that... that we coulda' coexisted... even if I know it's a lie. One of us woulda' snapped eventually... thrown a punch, had some harsh words... hell, we were already on the way there when I got my noggin knocked in... and we were on our way there again before Adam Cole 'n Arn Anderson executed their little plan and put your ass on the shelf, too.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I guess this was destined t' happen sometime or another. No matter how much I tell myself or anybody else that it didn't have t' happen... it did. It had to happen... it was gonna happen... no matter who tried t' prevent it... no matter how long either one of us got laid up... it was only delayin' the inevitable.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] If the two of us had the same level of talent we do... but we were completely different people on the inside, maybe this whole thing coulda' worked out... maybe we coulda' worked together and changed this business for the better... if we were both a little less off our nut and a little bit smarter... we coulda' done those things... but unfortunately, I'm an egomaniac like nobody else has ever seen and you?

Jarrett smirks.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] You're a world class, crazy son of a bitch.

He takes a deep breath.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] You deserve your revenge, Randy.

He looks down at the floor.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] And maybe I deserve t' die.

He looks back up into the camera, blue eyes.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] But that ain't gonna happen.

He shakes his head.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Not at Supremacy.

Snow drifted aimlessly to the ground.

But it didn't stick. It never stuck until it was least expected... when it was least welcome. The winter season had fluctuated... up and down, hot and cold. It had been frustrating. No one ever really knew how to dress or how to prepare. Warm one day, cold the next... there'd be days with no precipitation at all and then the snow would fall out of nowhere, like God spitting in the face of those who wished the season would come and go without incident.

Jeff Jarrett sat on the front porch of his house, staring off into the distance, down that old dirt road that lead outward from his gravel driveway, and he didn't mind the snow all that much. A bottle of whiskey, three quarters gone, rested on the table next to his rocking chair and that's why he didn't mind the snow. His mind was clouded and he was warm on the inside. His hand, resting on the arm of the chair, twitched involuntarily... his face was red and his eyes were dried out and bloodshot.

The former Chosen One had seen better days.

Much better days.

✞ W I N T E R  2 0 1 8 ✞
✞ T H E  J A R R E T T  H O M E S T E A D ✞

He could hear the engine roar in the distance, though he could not see the machine from which it emanated. He didn't try hard to look and see. He didn't care. In his mind, Jeff Jarrett knew that the engine didn't rumble for him. Cars and trucks tore down that dirt road all day, every day... and they never stopped at the Jarrett Homestead. That's how Jeff Jarrett liked it. He had come to enjoy his solitude and had long ago accepted that he would die in it.

Jarrett could see the cloud of dirt and gravel kicked up by the oncoming vehicle and then it appeared. A black pick-up truck barreled into sight and drew closer and closer until it reached the point where it would either bank left or pull into his gravel driveway. Jarrett never expected it to pull in... but it did... and he didn't flinch. The pick-up truck pulled right up to the porch and came to an abrupt stop, only inches away from colliding with the structure. Jarrett saw the man in the front seat and remembered him... it wasn't hard. His gaze fell upon the face of a man who had once been his best friend in the business and his former tag team partner. The driver's side door opened up and out stepped "Big Poppa Pump" Scott Steiner in a pair of black jeans and a matching black wifebeater. As always, Steiner wore black sunglasses with a red flame design running up the sides. Steiner slammed the door shut and looked up onto the porch, right at Jarrett.

[ Scott Steiner ] Jeff.

Jarrett looked down at the wooden floor beneath his feet, his voice was low.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Scotty.

Steiner stood their in silence, as if he was waiting on Jarrett to say something else but he never did. Jarrett simply continued to look down at the floor between his feet.

[ Scott Steiner ] You know why I'm here?

Jarrett didn't answer. Steiner's face turned red.

[ Scott Steiner ] I asked you a question, Jeff. Do you know why the fuck I'm here?

Jarrett swallowed, still not looking at the four-time SGW World Champion.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Can't say that I do, Scott. Can't say I care either.

Jarrett gestured toward the dirt road with the flick of his hand.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] You're more 'n welcome to see yourself out the way you come, though.

A sly grin crept across the face of the Big Bad Booty Daddy.

[ Scott Steiner ] Don't give me that line o' bullshit, Dubba' J.

Steiner's muscles rippled without effort. The years had certainly not chipped away at the vascularity of one of the greatest SGW World Champions of all time.

[ Scott Steiner ] You know damn well why I'm here... I heard the fuckin' rumors.

Jarrett gave him nothing. Steiner removed his glasses, looking at Jarrett with his own eyes... though Jarrett made no effort to meet his gaze.

[ Scott Steiner ] When's it comin' back, brother?

Jarrett finally spoke, sounding hollow... dead inside.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] It ain't comin' back, Scott.

Jarrett picked up the bottle and removed the cap. He looked down at it as though he were looking down into the void. Even while refraining from taking a drink from it, there was no doubt that it drank from him all the same.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] It ain't never comin' back.

[ Scott Steiner ] Did they offer you the money or what, god dammit?

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Oh yeah.

Jarrett smiled but there was no humor in it.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] They offered a ton o' money for it.

Steiner tilted his head to the side, confused.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] God damn Saudis.

[ Scott Steiner ] And you said no?

Steiner approached the porch, placing his foot on the bottom step.

[ Scott Steiner ] You said fuckin' NO?

[ Jeff Jarrett ] You're damn right I did.

[ Scott Steiner ] You had a chance to bring it back and you said fuckin' NO? Are you outta' your god damn mind?! That's our fuckin' legacy, Jeff! We built that shit and you had the opportunity to put it back on the map and you said fuckin' NO!?

Jarrett took a drink from the bottle and smacked his lips before setting it down.

[ Scott Steiner ] You fuckin' piece o' shit.

He pointed up at Jarrett angrily while hanging his sunglasses in the neck of his wifebeater.

[ Scott Steiner ] Ya' know somethin'... I was wonderin' the whole way up here if I was gonna be givin' you a hug or beatin' your fuckin' ass! I knew it'd be one or the other... and by costin' me a big ass payday, it looks like you made the decision for me!

[ Jeff Jarrett ] What good has SGW ever done anybody, huh?

Steiner looked confused, though he trembled with anger.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] It's been over a damn decade and all it ever did was 'cause a shit storm of problems for everybody involved. Look at all the people we hurt, all the companies we shut down in our path... hell, I know it seemed fun at the time, bringin' the wrestlin' world to its knees... but what the hell did we accomplish in the end?

[ Scott Steiner ] You sound like a god damn pussy, Jeff.

Jarrett smirked and looked at the bottle again, thinking about it.

[ Scott Steiner ] You sound like one of the bitches we put outta' business... and that ain't you. We used t' be god damn world beaters... ain't nobody could stop us! And you took this company from that soft, weak ass bitch Arn Anderson... and you made it up in our image... in your image... you did to the competition, what you'd been doin' to the competition yourself all along... you put'em all where the fuck they belonged! APW, XWF, CWO, all of'em in the god damn ground!

Steiner spit on the earth in front of him.

[ Scott Steiner ] Those piece o'f shit companies didn't deserve to have their worthless world titles unified with that big gold masterpiece that we kept around our waists... but you did it anyway just because you could! That's the shit a real man is made out of! Ain't nobody could tell you shit... and that's why I respected the hell outta' you!

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I get the notion that your feelin's have changed toward me.

Steiner gestured toward Jarrett with his hand.

[ Scott Steiner ] Look at you, god dammit.

Steiner points at the bottle on the table.

[ Scott Steiner ] I thought that shit was supposed to give you courage.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] You sayin' I'm scared o' somethin'? You callin' me a coward?

Jarrett stood up, staring down off his porch at Steiner. Something struck a chord.

[ Scott Steiner ] I don't know what I'm callin' you, Jeff.

He paused, dramatically.

[ Scott Steiner ] 'cause I don't know what the fuck you are anymore.

Steiner walked up the steps and got right in Jarrett's face. They stood nose to nose like that for what felt like hours, both of them quaking with intensity. Sweat rolled off Jarrett's nose despite the temperature but it wasn't the weather that made him sweat anyway. Steiner stood with his hands on his hips and his chest stuck out, keeping Jarrett at a distance with the sheer size difference. For a long moment, neither of them could hear anything but the sound of their own breathing.

[ Scott Steiner ] You drunk piece o' shit.

There was no response.

[ Scott Steiner ] You're broke... your old lady left your ass when ya' lost everything. Your own friends and family won't even talk to your bitch ass... you used to be the god damn man, Jeff... but now you're just an old, broke down, alcoholic piece of white trash.

There was still nothing. Just a hollow gaze right into Steiner's eyes.

[ Scott Steiner ] Scared shitless.

Steiner pointed right in Jarrett's face.

[ Scott Steiner ] ...'cause for everything the so-called Six-String Samurai did right, for all the titles he won and punks he put in the ground... the only thing you ever failed at was keepin' that fuckin' company afloat. With the talent we had in that mother fucker, shoulda' been the easiest job in the god damn world... and you fucked it up!

Without warning, Jarrett took a swing and Steiner sidestepped it... deceptively swift for his size and age. Jarrett swung so hard that he almost fell but Steiner caught him by his shirt... and punched him right in the mouth. Steiner could feel Jarrett's lips smash and split against his teeth, beneath his knuckles... and it felt good. Jarrett went down sideways, landing hard with a thud on the wooden porch... and then Steiner was on him, mounting him. Jarrett raised his hands, palming Steiner's face in an attempt to push him away... but Steiner simply grabbed Jarrett by his hair and bounced the back of his head off the porch until his hands fell away from his face.

[ Scott Steiner ] Big mistake, bitch!

Unable to fight back, Jarrett was helpless as Steiner landed punch after punch, blowing Jarrett's face up until he was almost unrecognizable. With no more fight left in him, Steiner picked Jarrett up by the front of his shirt, cocking his fist back. Steiner's fist was stained red with Jarrett's blood... and it trembled, hungry for one more good punch... but Steiner did not indulge it. He let go and Jarrett slumped backward onto the porch... he began to snore through the blood in his nose. Steiner looked down at Jarrett, disgusted as he stood up.

[ Scott Steiner ] What the fuck happened to you?

Steiner picked up the bottle of whiskey from the table and took a drink before turning the bottle upside down, pouring the contents on the fallen former five-time SGW World Champion. He shook it to make sure every drop fell out.

[ Scott Steiner ] Have another drink, you piece o' shit.

Steiner tossed the bottle into the front yard and then turned to walk down the steps, leaving Jarrett lying flat on his back, a bloody mess. Steiner opened the door to his truck and placed one foot inside before turning to look back at what he left behind. Jarrett was stirring... Steiner saw him reach up and touch his bloodied face. Steiner shook his head and climbed inside.

He started the engine.

He had no idea what he helped awaken.

But soon, he would.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I imagine both of us are due t' get what we deserve... and Supremacy's gonna be the place where it all goes down.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] A great man once said... "deserve's got nothin' t' do with it."

He smirks.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] And that man was absolutely right. I shoulda' got what was comin' t' me a hundred thousand times over... but over the course o' my career with Solid Gold Wrestlin', New Era Wrestlin', the damn League o' Champions... I can count how many times I got what was comin' t' me on one hand... it takes a certain kinda' man to cut off that many roarin' rampages of revenge... and it breeds a whole 'nother man underneath t' survive all those that sit back, sharpenin' their knives, waitin' on their moment to strike.

He leans forward, staring hard into the camera.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I imagine your knives are pretty sharp, Randy Orton. I imagine they're about as sharp as one's knives could get... but you don't get t' be in the position I'm in without sharpenin' a whole set o' knives, all my own.

His eyes narrow.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] And I grant you this, Randy Orton...

He points into the camera.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] My knives are as long 'n sharp as any of yours.

✞ T H E  M A N  I N  T H E  D A R K ✞

The house was a mess.

The trash cans were overflowing with empty bottles.

Jeff Jarrett sat in a leather chair in the corner of the room with a half-empty bottle of whiskey nestled between his legs. Without a single light source on in the old country home, it was left up to the moon to shine through the window and illuminate the man in the dark. He raised the bottle with one hand and took a drink before placing it on the end table next to the chair. The bottle made a dull thud as it made contact with the table. Jarrett slowly turned his head and looked in the direction of the window, allowing the pale light of the moon to illuminate his features.

Only one year removed from his most triumphant glory, Jeff Jarrett looked older and far more haggard. It was clear that he was no longer in good physical condition. The alcohol and the depression had already taken hold. His breathing was heavy, labored... likely brought on by his poor health.

There was another light.

And a grating buzz... his cell phone.

It sat on the table, shaking violently, taunting him... demanding his attention. Jarrett lackadaisically reached over and picked up the noisy monstrosity, allowing the light to bathe his face as his eyes observed the name of the caller. He pushed, the button... answering the call.

But he did not speak.

After a moment, the caller broke the silence.

[ Edge ] Jeff?

He still did not speak.

[ Edge ] Jeff... brother... it's Edge.

Silence.

[ Edge ] We need to talk about SGW.

✞ J U L Y  2 0 0 7 ✞

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I don't know you. Don't call this damn number again--

[ Edge ] Jeff, don't hang up! Seriously! We're bringing it back!

By the light of the moon, the surprise on Jarrett's face was visible. Surprise and confusion and... a touch of anger. Jarrett sat up in the chair, fully alert. Edge continued speaking, sounding frantic, trying to get it all out before Jarrett hung up on him.

[ Edge ] We're bringing it back, Jeff... but it has to start somewhere. That's where SGW One Night Stand comes in... it'll be a one night event... Christian has rounded up some investors. We think we can use it to springboard SGW back into a weekly timeslot on a major network.

Jarrett was silent, though he listened intently.

[ Edge ] The kicker is... you have to be involved.

Silence, again.

[ Edge ] We've already got the card laid out. Randy Orton has specifically requested to work with you.

Jarrett took a deep breath and lowered his head.

[ Edge ] That's obviously the main event--

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I ain't workin' with that son of a bitch.

Jarrett shook his head.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Not after all the shit he done.

[ Edge ] We've got Raven, too, man. Jeff Jarrett versus Raven... that's just as good and it kinda' kills two birds with one stone. We get a big main event match and you get a chance to beat the one guy that beat you, that you never did get your win back over.

Jarrett breathed heavily into the phone... he sounded angry.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Screw Raven.

[ Edge ] Jeff... brother... come on, man.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I'm not interested.

[ Edge ] If you don't do it... we won't get the funding... there won't be a show.

Jarrett stood there in silence... in darkness. Even the moon shied away from that conversation, hiding behind the tree line surrounding Jarrett's house, allowing it to be bathed in pitch black darkness. Jarrett allowed Edge's comment to sit... hanging in the air uncomfortably for what felt like minutes.

His response was a knife to the heart.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Well, I guess there won't be a show, then.

Jarrett hung up the phone before Edge could reply. He returned to his dark corner of the room and picked up the bottle of whiskey, turning it up and taking a drink before falling backward into his chair. The phone buzzed again, this time it was Christian's name on the phone. Jarrett sent it straight to voicemail and turned the phone off before leaning his head back against the cool leather.

He dreamt of burning horses.

He didn't know why, then.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I used t' lay awake at night... haunted by all the shit I'd done... wonderin' when the time would come that I'd have t' pay the piper.

He leans back in the chair, obscured by darkness again.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] You were in a lot o' those dreams, Randy. I thought about how I used you t' get what I wanted and how that tore your career apart for years t' come... and I drowned those damn dreams in a flood o' whiskey that mighta' killed a lesser man 'n me... imagine what's it's like bein' the man I am... havin' done the things I've done over the years... establishin' a reign of dominance the likes nobody'd ever seen in our circle... and then imagine havin' t' reconcile all that with the guilt of tearin' it all down when ya' left.

He sighs.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] My family has been in this business for decades... my father loved this business... my mother, too. This business has given the Jarrett family everything it ever needed. It provided for us when nothin' else would... it kept food on our table and a roof over our head... and when I took over Solid Gold Wrestlin', that was just the latest in a long legacy of Jarretts runnin' the damn show.

He looks longingly into the camera. His forehead is wet with sweat.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I shoulda' showed more respect toward the responsibility I took on... and I didn't recognize that responsibility 'til it was too late. I built the scene up to a point that it'd never even seen... carried Solid Gold Wrestlin' to heights it'd never experienced... we were undisputedly the biggest company in the whole damn world... and I pissed it away.

He looks down at the floor.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] That burden has been on my shoulders for years... what coulda' been, what shoulda' been... and what actually was.

He cuts his eyes back up in the direction of the camera.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] The more I think about it and ask myself why I brought Solid Gold Wrestlin' back from the grave... the more I realize that it wasn't about the Saudi money and it damn sure wasn't about some revenge fantasy with Randy Orton, though both of those things were the harsh reality of the situation... naw, I brought Solid Gold Wrestlin' back because the whole damn world needed it... and now it's here... and it ain't goin' anywhere anytime soon.

He nods gently.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I've set it up in such a way that even if I leave tomorrow, it keeps on truckin' along... because it deserves to truck along. It don't need me... and it never did, no matter how much I like t' pretend it did.

He sighs.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] It's a helluva' thing... takin' yourself outta' the equation like that... makin' yourself obsolete. But it was somethin' that had t' be done... and if I didn't do it now, I don't know if I'd have ever done it.

He takes a breath and sits in silence for a moment.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] It was the only way I could do what needed t' be done.

The night air was cool on his face.

The stone slab at his back was even cooler.

Barefoot, he could feel the grass beneath his feet. He only came out there to think once in a while... when things were serious. The small patch of earth was enclosed by a wrought iron fence and there were... other stone slabs sticking up from the earth. It wasn't the most enticing or enjoyable part of the Jarrett property but it brought him peace... to sit in silence.

It was one of the only places left in the world where he could truly think. It was there that he thought about the challenge that Randy Orton had made and how he was certain that he would never accept it.. he had no reason to accept it... why was it his responsibility to soothe Orton's mind, to put him at ease by accepting some ridiculous challenge?

Still, it ate at him... it ate him constantly.

Randy Orton had hurt people to get at him... to get his attention. Jeff Jarrett had long ago accepted the fact that wrestling was no longer his world. Competition no longer beckoned to him. His brief appearance in the WrestleBrawl match was supposed to be it. A final tribute to a storied career... and it had ended in humiliation... disgrace... a two minute sprint that ended when Randy Orton discarded him to the floor like trash.

And then punctuated it by throwing him and Arn Anderson off the stage during the main event. The two most historic owners of SGW in the company's history, thrown screaming to their doom where they would be fished out by EMTs and rushed to a nearby medical facility.

Of course, Randy Orton would have to pay for what he had done, wouldn't he? But who would Jeff Jarrett trust to handle that very particular situation? Edge? His ass was retired, too. Christian? Retired. Chavo Guerrero, Jr.? Get real. He thought about the current talent roster. Austin was too damn bogged down, dealing with The Origin night in and night out. He didn't have time for another problem as big as Randy Orton. He even considered throwing some extra money toward Jimmy Havoc to do the deed but that was a whole 'nother bomb just waiting to go off.

In the end, Jeff Jarrett's hand found the bottle of whiskey resting in the grass next to him and he picked it up. Though he didn't drink of it, he stood up with the bottle in his hand and decided that it would be best to go to bed and think it over in the morning. Jeff Jarrett walked away from his resting place and toward his home, prepared to lay down. As he walked away, he left the inscription on the stone slab visible.

JEFFREY LEONARD JARRETT
JULY 14th, 1967 -

✞ T H E  F I R E  I N S I D E ✞

The dream.

The dream was the same but...

The dream was... different.

He woke up in bed as he always did and threw back the covers... but when he swung his legs out of bed and planted his feet on the hardwood floor, there was no lead... there was no invisible mud up to his waist, holding him back. He made his way to the window and his face was illuminated by the light of the burning stables as it always was... he could hear the horses squealing and whinnying, crying out as their lives were snuffed out by the flames one by one. He reached up and touched his chest... it was the first time he realized that he wasn't panicking... there was no anxiety.

He felt whole.

He turned and walked toward his doorway and he wasn't slowed down, he did not sink... he did not mysteriously appear in front of his screen door and push through it onto the porch. No, he made his way quickly through the doorway, ran down the hallway and almost fell going down the stairs. He unlocked the deadbolts on his front door and unlatched the screen door before slinging it open with enough force to knock it off its hinges. It fell to the porch and clattered to a still rest at Jarrett's feet. He stood on the porch and watched the flaming horses run through the cornfield, vibrant and green suddenly turning to glowing red and orange.

He saw something move between the rows.

He turned and walked to the edge of the porch, fists clenched at his sides. He watched for the thing, whatever it was. He could feel it watching him but its gaze no longer froze him in place. He saw the same glimmers of flesh... the streaks of red... and the flames surrounded it, bringing the corn down around the figure. Jarrett could see the cold, dead eyes even though it should have been impossible at that distance. He felt them burn him as though he were standing in the fire himself.

The horses emerged from the cornfield, still on fire.

This time... they didn't crash and burn.

The horses charged toward the house at full speed, breathing and groaning, their flesh falling away from them until they were flaming skeletons. They ran hard into the side of the house, bringing down a wall and lighting the interior ablaze... but Jeff Jarrett paid them no mind. His eyes were locked on the man standing in the cornfield, surrounded by a circle of fire.

Shirtless, covered in blood... with cold, dead, black eyes... the eyes of a serpent.

Jarrett could hear the hiss of a snake in his ear where there was normally the collection of voices. Jeff Jarrett stared at the physical form of Randy Orton, staring right back at him... still, cold, calculating... the fire surrounded him, threatening to engulf him but also too frightened to touch him. Dripping with blood, Randy Orton stood still... taunting Jarrett with his presence.

And then it came to him... the voice.

But it was different... instead of the usual collection of influential figures in his life, it was one voice... one he had never picked up on before in all the years of having that recurring dream. The voice was deep and gruff... Jarrett could feel it reverberate in his head, not just speaking to him as a person but speaking to his soul. Jarrett focused his gaze on the serpent-like eyes of Randy Orton... the flames drew closer to Orton... and the flames drew closer to Jarrett, too, as the house went up around him... but the voice... it would not be denied.

"Finish what 'chu started."

He could feel the heat on his face as the flames drew closer.

And then he woke up.

✞ J U N E  2 0 2 0 ✞

Jeff Jarrett sat on the edge of the bed and ran his hand down the length of his face. He stood up and walked to his study in his boxers. He approached his desk and sat a glass down. He picked up a half empty bottle of whiskey and prepared to pour himself a glass but stopped. Jarrett looked at the bottle and furrowed his brow... before turning it upside down and pouring it out in a nearby trash can. Once the bottle was empty, he dropped it inside where it clinked and clanged loudly within its final resting place.

Jarrett sat down in his leather office chair, feeling the cool leather stick to his skin. He looked at the empty class sitting on the desk and used the back of his hand to casually swat it away from him, sending it sliding across the desk to a rest at the edge. Jarrett took a deep breath and sighed, not allowing himself to forget what the voice told him.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Alright, you orange bastard... let's go to work.

Jarrett stood up and walked out of the room, toward Supremacy... and his future.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Selfless acts are a bitch, ain't they?

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Yeah, I reckon so.

He nods, looking off-camera.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I'm the only one that can do what needs t' be done, Randy. I'm the only one who can put you away... and I'm the only one that should put you away. Like I said, you're my responsibility... I'm the bad guy... I'm the guy... who turned you into what you are.

He smirks.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] You're a regular Frankenstein's monster... and I'm the crooked son of a bitch that cobbled you together in the first place. I can see that now... and I can see what needs t' be done. When you first made your little challenge for this match, you said you wanted t' kill the legend of Solid Gold Wrestlin'... that it was the last legend on your list... that by takin' me out, you'd be rippin' out SGW's heart.

He shakes his head.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I'm afraid that's not how this is gonna play out. When my ass is gone, SGW's gonna continue to be propped up by Edge, Christian, Trish, Chavo... and whoever else wants t' shoulder that responsibility. You wanna kill SGW, Randy? You gotta helluva lot o' work t' do after you're done with me.

Jarrett stands up and folds the chair up behind him before tossing it to the side. The chair slides on the concrete fool and and stops at the wall with a clang. Jeff Jarrett stands in the moonlight and stares into the camera.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Solid Gold Wrestlin' is more than Jeff Jarrett... as much as that hurts to admit. Solid Gold Wrestlin' is bigger than me 'n you and it's gonna carry on longer after both of us are gone. You can beat my ass at Supremacy... you can stomp my damn head flat... you can even end my whole damn career.

Jarrett pats his chest.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Reach through my chest and rip out my cold, dead heart... it won't matter a damn bit. What me 'n you got goin' on, Randy... it's 'tween me 'n you and that's where it stops. This ain't about Randy Orton versus Solid Gold Wrestlin'... this ain't about Randy Orton knockin' off the biggest legend this business has ever seen... naw, not by a damn sight.

Jarrett points into the camera.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Randy Orton... this is just me... versus you.

His voice booms throughout the room.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] One time... for all time.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] You can tell yourself any reason you want for why you're doin' what you gotta do at Supremacy... because I've told myself all kinda' shit for the last damn near fifteen years... and I'm tired o' lyin' t' myself... I'm tired o' lyin' t' the people who propped me up and brought me t' the dance... and I'm just plain tired o' lyin'... so I'm gonna stand here right now and I'm gonna tell you the God's honest truth, Randy Orton.

Heavy breathing... intensity.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] What I do t' you at Supremacy... ain't for me.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] It's for Solid Gold Wrestlin'.

The moon struggles through the painted panes of glass.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] It's for the people who deserve a better future than the one we gave 'em... even if it seems like they don't deserve it at times.

His voice is stern.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] At Supremacy, it's time for the Six-String Samurai t' set things right.

Pause.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] And Randy, I don't give a damn what you think about it. I don't give a damn whether your ass likes it or not. I'm takin' everything you got comin' to ya', all thirteen years of it, and I'm gonna shove it down your damn stinkin' throat... and it's up to you, whether you're man enough to swallow it... or if you're gonna

Jarrett stands up and walks toward the camera. There's a rustling sound as he fumbles with the equipment and then the screen goes black.

He looked ridiculous.

He didn't think so, then.

But looking back, yeah. He looked ridiculous.

The white cowboy hat, the matching jacket and tearaway pants. And the sunglasses. Good lord, the sunglasses. Surprisingly, the fact that it all lit up didn't make the appearance any more appealing. Jeff Jarrett was moments away from his debut with a company that had the audacity, the absolute gall, even, to call itself the Xtreme Hardcore Wrestling Federation... and he was on track to make his entrance looking like a country music Christmas tree... an attire that he swore he'd never wear again.

So, why the hell did he do it?

Jeff Jarrett looked out through the curtain. There couldn't be more than five hundred fans in attendance. On one hand, he could not deny the level of humiliation he felt, dressed the way he was for a crowd so small... but at the same time, he felt a tremendous amount of pride. At that time in his career, it wasn't about the fame or the money or the championship gold... it was about the business.

Jeff Jarrett loved the business.

✞ X H W F   1 9 9 9 ✞

If it took working for a company like the Xtreme Hardcore Wrestling Federation to get his foot back in the door or a global... or hell, even national company... then that's exactly what Jeff Jarrett would do. Dignity be damned. Colone Robert Parker approached from the rear in a powder blue suit and white cowboy hat. He chomped on an unlit cigar, smiling so wide that his pearly white teeth threatened to fall from his mouth. He patted Jarrett on the shoulder like a loving father, his chest jutted out proudly as his eyes scanned the crowd.

[ Colonel Robert Parker ] Look at that, kid.

He slapped Jarrett hard on the back. His open palm on the white faux leather sounded like a gunshot in the confined "dressing room" that likely doubled as a broom closet on any other given day.

[ Colonel Robert Parker ] Every one o' them damned fool marks is here t' see you and what you can do!

Jarrett nodded solemnly, reaching up to stroke his clean shaven chin. Parker shook his head, still smiling as he surveyed the crowd.

[ Colonel Robert Parker ] You're bound for bigger thangs 'n this, I tell ya' what. This ain't nothin' but some outlaw bullshit. I ain't never seen the like o' scum bums 'n dick slings that make up a crowd like this.

He removed the cigar from his mouth and spit on the floor in front of him before placing it back between his teeth.

[ Colonel Robert Parker ] God damn disgrace t' the business.

Parker snapped his fingers, getting Jarrett's attention away from the match going on in the ring. Parker pointed at three men sitting at a poker table in the far corner of the room.

[ Colonel Robert Parker ] See them boys o'er there?

Jarrett nodded.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Yeah. I see 'em.

The three men were clad in tie-dye and gave off an undeniable aura of danger and intimidation. They were already multiple time tag team champions in a number of other promotions... but to his knowledge, had failed to break through to the big stage.

[ Colonel Robert Parker ] Those... are the god damn Dudley Boyz! Meanest sons o' bitches you'll find this side o' the Mississippi... and now they're the proud holders of brand new Solid Gold Rasslin' contracts!

He gestured toward the curtain.

[ Colonel Robert Parker ] They're done with this mudshow bullshit.

Jarrett stared across the room at them.

[ Colonel Robert Parker ] I got an in wit' that Arn Anderson fella', runs the place. I find who I can that's worth a damn and send 'im his way. He pays me a purdy fine penny for 'at service, if I may say so myself. You hearda' Solid Gold Rasslin', ain'cha?

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I heard of it.

[ Colonel Robert Parker ] It's the god damned land o' the giants down there. Goldberg, Macho Man, Sting, and Bret Hart! That's how you know ya've made it in this business, kid. You start rubbin' elbows wit' them fellers, rakin' in the big bucks.

Jarrett stood there, silent. Contemplating his future.

[ Colonel Robert Parker ] What do ya' think, kid? Want me to put in a word?

Jarrett slowly turned his head and looked at Parker.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Mind if I think on it?

Parker slapped Jarrett on the back again and tilted his head back, laughing so hard he almost lost the cowboy hat on top of his head.

[ Colonel Robert Parker ] HAW HAW! THANK ABOUT IT?!

Parker grinned ear to ear as he leaned in close to Jarrett.

[ Colonel Robert Parker ] You thank on it all you want... but don't wait too damn long. You give me a call when you're ready t' live forever, ya' hear?

Parker walked away from Jarrett, approaching the table occupied by Buh Buh Ray, D-Von, and Big Dick. Jarrett couldn't hear what they were saying but he could tell they were having a good time. His mind raced with thoughts of where his career had been up to that point and where it would inevitably go. He thought about what Parker said and it sounded good.

Forever.

✞ J U N E  2 0 2 0 ✞

It was dark... but it was hot.

The air was thick, almost unbearably so.

There was a slight hint of garbage in the air... but it might have been the scent of a nearby restaurant wafting out into the street. Jeff Jarrett walked alongside Vince Russo on the sidewalk, neither of them recognized by the public. As a red light caused traffic to back up, Russo spotted a cab out of the corner of his eye and flagged it down.

[ Vince Russo ] This is where I get off, bro.

Russo looked at Jarrett, sorrow in his eyes. He shook his head.

[ Vince Russo ] Are ya' sure 'bout all this? I swear I got ya' fuckin' back. Just like old times.

Jarrett nodded solemnly.

[ Jeff Jarrett ] I'm sure. This is my fight.

Russo looked down at the sidewalk and wiped a tear from his eye. He sniffed and looked back up at Jarrett. Jarrett's mouth curled slightly into a warm smile.

[ Vince Russo ] You change ya' mind, you got my fuckin' numba'... ol' Vinny Ru will come runnin', baseball bat in fuckin' hand, ya' hear me?

[ Jeff Jarrett ] Yeah. I hear ya'.

They shook hands and Jarrett pulled Russo in for a hug, squeezing him tight. Russo gave Jarrett a pound on the back with his fist before they let go of one another. Without even looking at Jeff, Russo turned and made his way across a lane of traffic to approach his cab. He opened the rear door and placed one foot inside. He turned and looked at Jarrett, still standing on the sidewalk, now with his hands in his pockets. They looked at one another in silence for what felt like forever... before Jarrett offered Russo a respectful nod. Russo cupped his mouth and shouted over the sound of the traffic.

[ Vince Russo ] HEY, JEFF!

Jarrett smirked and turned his head slightly to the side to listen. Russo smiled, standing just inside the cab with his arm resting on top of the open car door.

[ Vince Russo ] YOU'RE MY GOD DAMN HERO!

Russo saluted Jarrett and then climbed inside the cab, shutting the door behind him. Jarrett watched from the sidewalk, smiling as he watched Russo drive off into the distance. Jarrett wanted to respond before Russo was gone but it was far too late... and no matter how hard he tried, he didn't know how to respond to what Russo had said to him. He stared off into the distance until the tail lights of Russo's cab vanished in the distance. Jeff Jarrett thought about what Russo said for a long time afterward and he thought about calling him and telling him what it had meant to him.

But he never found the words.

In my hands, I hold the ashes
In my veins, black pitch runs
In my chest, a fire catches
In my way, the setting sun
Dark clouds gather 'round me
Due northwest, the soul is bound
And I will go, on ahead free
There's a light yet to be found

The last pale light in the west
The last pale light in the west

And I ask for no redemption
In this cold and barren place
Still I see a faint reflection
And so by it, I got my way

The last pale light in the west
The last pale light in the west

                                                                 "Last Pale Light in the West"
                                                                                             Ben Nichols