Post by Jake Keeton on Jun 16, 2013 0:00:43 GMT
Jake Keeton stepped through the doors of the Lexington Police Department and approached the first desk he came to where a rather attractive female officer sat typing at a computer.
Jake: Excuse me Ma’am, I just received a call that my son had been brought in.
Officer: What’s his name?
Jake: Jonathan Keeton.
She looks back at the computer for a second.
Officer: Ok, it appears his arresting officer would like to speak with you personally before we can discuss his bail and release. If you want to have a seat on that bench over there he’ll be right with you.
Jake: Thanks.
Jake takes a seat and reaches over and picks up the latest copy of Pro Wrestling Unlimited that was lying next to him. The cover of the magazine features a picture of Jake pinning Stephen Kingsley last week just as Spike Kane was trying to break it up. The headline below the picture reads, “IWF: Career Resurgence For Jake Keeton? We think so.” He flips the magazine open and begins reading the article before a chubby doughnut-glaze covered finger pulls the magazine from in front of his face.
“Well if it isn’t a piece of trash reading about other pieces of trash.”
Jake immediately recognizes the voice as Officer Brian Downey, who somehow has been involved EVERY single time Jake has been involved in any way with Lexington law enforcement.
Jake: It’s a pleasure to see you again Officer Downey, I see you’re as fat as ever.
Downey: It’s Chief Downey now Keeton, and I’ll have you know that I’ve lost three pounds since the last time I was unfortunate enough to be in your presence. This isn’t about us though, it’s about the hooligan you’ve raised.
Jake: He’s a good kid, what the hell is this about?
Downey reaches into the pocket of his dark blue uniform shirt and pulls out a small zip lock bag with a dried green substance inside that one would assume is Marijuana.
Downey: Do good kids smoke pot?
Rather than the shocked look you would expect from a father who’d just found out his son was caught with drugs Jake just looks irritated.
Jake: I’m sure there’s a lot of good kids that do, but I can guarantee you my kids not doing that.
Downey: So what are you trying to say?
Jake stands up and gets about an inch away from the face of the pudgy police man.
Jake: I’m saying that my son doesn’t do drugs, he’s a two sport athlete and a straight A student who works nearly 50 hours a week shoveling horse shit because he finds it more of a challenge than flipping burgers. The kid ain’t got time to do drugs. I don’t know why he had it or where it came from but I’ll find out. I wouldn’t put it past you to have planted it on him because you know he’s my boy.
Downey takes a step towards Jake, his brow furrowed in contempt.
Downey: Are you accusing me of being corrupt Keeton?
Jake: You’re damn straight I am, where’s my boy so I can get this straightened out?
At this point another officer who notices how tense the situation has become comes over and steps between the wrestler and the police chief.
Officer: Chief maybe you should cool down before this situation gets any more out of hand I don’t want you getting suspended again.
Downey takes a step back and points down the hallway.
Downey: Yeah you’re right this scum and his hoodlum kid ain’t worth it. He’s down the hall in room 212 we couldn’t house him with the rest of the prisoners cause of his age.
Jake marches down the hallway with the officer that broke up his confrontation with Downey close behind.
Officer: I have to let you in, sorry about my boss, he gets a little bent out of shape sometimes.
Jake: I know him far too well, he tried to accuse me of murder once and arson another time. Thanks for having a level head.
Officer: No problem.
The officer unlocks the door and Jake steps in the room where a handcuffed J.C. sits at a table. It’s apparent that the normally too tough for his own good teenager has been crying his eyes out.
J.C.: Dad I can explain.
Jake sits down across from him.
Jake: You better hope it’s a damn good explanation.
J.C.: I was riding around with my friend Max, just talking to girls and that kinda stuff. We stopped at Triangle Park to talk to this car load of chicks, and these older guys pulled up and Max walked over and started talking to them. When he came back he said we had to go right then. Next thing I know we’re getting pulled over and Max is pleading with me to hold that bag of weed for him.
Jake takes off his hat and runs his fingers through his hair in frustration.
Jake: So you mean to tell me you, an All State Wrestler and future NBA draft pick who hasn’t got below a 98% on a test since 4th grade was dumb enough to let some thug talk you into taking the rap for him? You want to flush your future down the toilet or something?
J.C. tries to hold back the tears but a few make their way out and roll down his cheek and he quickly wipes them away.
J.C.: No Dad, but he’s my friend and I didn’t want him to go to jail. He said he would have went to prison and all they’d do to me is give me a slap on the wrist. You have to look at things from my point of view.
Jake: No I don’t. Who is this kid and why would he be going to prison?
J.C.: His name is Max Estill, I’ve known him since 7th grade when I started playing varsity on the basketball team. He was a freshman but he wasn’t that great so we guarded each other in practice and have been cool with each other ever since. He works at Steeple View Farm with me.
Jake: So if he was a freshman when you were a 7th grader then how old is this dude like 18? 19?
J.C.: 18.
Jake: You’re barely 16 J.C., you shouldn’t be hanging out with people that much older than you. You never answered my second question either, why would he go to prison?
J.C. swallows hard, not wanting to answer the question but he can see that his Dad notices him stalling.
J.C.: He has a gun charge against him, but it’s not what you think…
Jake: What I think is you’re gonna stay as far away from that low life as possible even if that means quitting your job.
J.C.: Please Dad, it’s not like that, he’s not a thug.
Jake: Weed and guns? Sure sounds like a thug to me.
J.C.: The weed was his, but you don’t know what his life is like at home. I feel lucky to have an awesome Dad like you but if I had this guys parents I’d probably want to smoke weed too just to escape it all.
Jake: Nice try but I promise you’re not gonna think I’m that awesome when we get home.
J.C.: Come on Dad don’t be like that, you always said loyalty was a good trait and you wished you were more loyal. I was just being loyal to my friend.
Jake: You were being a bonehead don’t turn this around on me. Let’s get out of here, we’ll talk about your punishment on the way home.
J.C.: Don’t you want to know what Max’s life is like at home?
Jake: I don’t care he’s not my kid, you are. I’m sure you can tell me eventually when you’re trying to talk me into letting you hang out with him again but for right now I’m worried about getting you home and teaching you a lesson.
J.C. looks afraid, very afraid as Jake turns and walks towards the door.
J.C.: I’ve never heard you talk like this, are you gonna hit me?
Jake turns back to his son with a look of disappointment.
Jake: I’ve never hit you and I’m not gonna start now, but you’re gonna wish I was instead of what I got planned.
J.C. stands up and follows his Dad out the door as the scene fades.
On June 16th, 2013 I become IWF Cruiserweight Champion. The first ever IWF Cruiserweight Champion. I’m not stranger to being a champion, I’ve done so multiple times in my career but some mean more than others and this one is going to mean a lot to me just because of the talent that IWF has on it’s roster. It’s a chance to get my named stamped in the IWF record books for the first of many more times. I haven’t felt this good and this confident going into a match in a very long time.
It’s like I’ve been reborn.
In fact I’ve used the term ever evolving to describe myself recently and it couldn’t be more true than these last few weeks. If you go and look back on old matches of mine I’m barely recognizable from just a few years ago both in appearance and in ring style. Look up some of my old promos on Youtube, did you ever hear me give my opponents as much credit as I have this week alone? I built Freakke the Clown up to be a legit threat to win the IWF Cruiserweight Championship for Christ sake, people who’ve known me for a while think I’m ill somehow. I can assure you it’s the same guy, I just understand that anybody can beat anybody on any given week, even Mike Machado, I just gotta stop that from happening.
How am I gonna go about that though?
I’m going to out wrestle my opponents. It’s a pretty simple concept really. As good as they may be, I’m just better and deep down they know that. Even as overly confident as Bushido sounds in his mixture of broken English and Japanese he has to be feeling a little pressure because he’s gonna look like a complete fool after almost guaranteeing his victory and then failing at my hands. Much better men have tried to beat me and failed so it’s not anything to be ashamed of but I know how proud you Japanese are, Seppuku wouldn’t surprise me.
I’m really disappointed in the rest of my competition. Any bit of confidence Mike Machado had before I completely erased and now he’s accepted defeat like he should have to begin with. I think working with Gib will do you a world of good Mike. I know it’s gotta be frustrating being stuck in that lovable loser role but one day your luck will change, it just ain’t gonna be Sunday I’m afraid.
It would appear from the silence that I wasted a lot of praise on Caleb Atwood and Freakke though and they have accepted their defeat. I expected more out of you all to be honest, Machado and Bushy included, but keep your chins up fellas, once I win the Cruiserweight title I’ll have to have contenders for it. You’re all just fighting to be second best at this point anyway.
Jake: Excuse me Ma’am, I just received a call that my son had been brought in.
Officer: What’s his name?
Jake: Jonathan Keeton.
She looks back at the computer for a second.
Officer: Ok, it appears his arresting officer would like to speak with you personally before we can discuss his bail and release. If you want to have a seat on that bench over there he’ll be right with you.
Jake: Thanks.
Jake takes a seat and reaches over and picks up the latest copy of Pro Wrestling Unlimited that was lying next to him. The cover of the magazine features a picture of Jake pinning Stephen Kingsley last week just as Spike Kane was trying to break it up. The headline below the picture reads, “IWF: Career Resurgence For Jake Keeton? We think so.” He flips the magazine open and begins reading the article before a chubby doughnut-glaze covered finger pulls the magazine from in front of his face.
“Well if it isn’t a piece of trash reading about other pieces of trash.”
Jake immediately recognizes the voice as Officer Brian Downey, who somehow has been involved EVERY single time Jake has been involved in any way with Lexington law enforcement.
Jake: It’s a pleasure to see you again Officer Downey, I see you’re as fat as ever.
Downey: It’s Chief Downey now Keeton, and I’ll have you know that I’ve lost three pounds since the last time I was unfortunate enough to be in your presence. This isn’t about us though, it’s about the hooligan you’ve raised.
Jake: He’s a good kid, what the hell is this about?
Downey reaches into the pocket of his dark blue uniform shirt and pulls out a small zip lock bag with a dried green substance inside that one would assume is Marijuana.
Downey: Do good kids smoke pot?
Rather than the shocked look you would expect from a father who’d just found out his son was caught with drugs Jake just looks irritated.
Jake: I’m sure there’s a lot of good kids that do, but I can guarantee you my kids not doing that.
Downey: So what are you trying to say?
Jake stands up and gets about an inch away from the face of the pudgy police man.
Jake: I’m saying that my son doesn’t do drugs, he’s a two sport athlete and a straight A student who works nearly 50 hours a week shoveling horse shit because he finds it more of a challenge than flipping burgers. The kid ain’t got time to do drugs. I don’t know why he had it or where it came from but I’ll find out. I wouldn’t put it past you to have planted it on him because you know he’s my boy.
Downey takes a step towards Jake, his brow furrowed in contempt.
Downey: Are you accusing me of being corrupt Keeton?
Jake: You’re damn straight I am, where’s my boy so I can get this straightened out?
At this point another officer who notices how tense the situation has become comes over and steps between the wrestler and the police chief.
Officer: Chief maybe you should cool down before this situation gets any more out of hand I don’t want you getting suspended again.
Downey takes a step back and points down the hallway.
Downey: Yeah you’re right this scum and his hoodlum kid ain’t worth it. He’s down the hall in room 212 we couldn’t house him with the rest of the prisoners cause of his age.
Jake marches down the hallway with the officer that broke up his confrontation with Downey close behind.
Officer: I have to let you in, sorry about my boss, he gets a little bent out of shape sometimes.
Jake: I know him far too well, he tried to accuse me of murder once and arson another time. Thanks for having a level head.
Officer: No problem.
The officer unlocks the door and Jake steps in the room where a handcuffed J.C. sits at a table. It’s apparent that the normally too tough for his own good teenager has been crying his eyes out.
J.C.: Dad I can explain.
Jake sits down across from him.
Jake: You better hope it’s a damn good explanation.
J.C.: I was riding around with my friend Max, just talking to girls and that kinda stuff. We stopped at Triangle Park to talk to this car load of chicks, and these older guys pulled up and Max walked over and started talking to them. When he came back he said we had to go right then. Next thing I know we’re getting pulled over and Max is pleading with me to hold that bag of weed for him.
Jake takes off his hat and runs his fingers through his hair in frustration.
Jake: So you mean to tell me you, an All State Wrestler and future NBA draft pick who hasn’t got below a 98% on a test since 4th grade was dumb enough to let some thug talk you into taking the rap for him? You want to flush your future down the toilet or something?
J.C. tries to hold back the tears but a few make their way out and roll down his cheek and he quickly wipes them away.
J.C.: No Dad, but he’s my friend and I didn’t want him to go to jail. He said he would have went to prison and all they’d do to me is give me a slap on the wrist. You have to look at things from my point of view.
Jake: No I don’t. Who is this kid and why would he be going to prison?
J.C.: His name is Max Estill, I’ve known him since 7th grade when I started playing varsity on the basketball team. He was a freshman but he wasn’t that great so we guarded each other in practice and have been cool with each other ever since. He works at Steeple View Farm with me.
Jake: So if he was a freshman when you were a 7th grader then how old is this dude like 18? 19?
J.C.: 18.
Jake: You’re barely 16 J.C., you shouldn’t be hanging out with people that much older than you. You never answered my second question either, why would he go to prison?
J.C. swallows hard, not wanting to answer the question but he can see that his Dad notices him stalling.
J.C.: He has a gun charge against him, but it’s not what you think…
Jake: What I think is you’re gonna stay as far away from that low life as possible even if that means quitting your job.
J.C.: Please Dad, it’s not like that, he’s not a thug.
Jake: Weed and guns? Sure sounds like a thug to me.
J.C.: The weed was his, but you don’t know what his life is like at home. I feel lucky to have an awesome Dad like you but if I had this guys parents I’d probably want to smoke weed too just to escape it all.
Jake: Nice try but I promise you’re not gonna think I’m that awesome when we get home.
J.C.: Come on Dad don’t be like that, you always said loyalty was a good trait and you wished you were more loyal. I was just being loyal to my friend.
Jake: You were being a bonehead don’t turn this around on me. Let’s get out of here, we’ll talk about your punishment on the way home.
J.C.: Don’t you want to know what Max’s life is like at home?
Jake: I don’t care he’s not my kid, you are. I’m sure you can tell me eventually when you’re trying to talk me into letting you hang out with him again but for right now I’m worried about getting you home and teaching you a lesson.
J.C. looks afraid, very afraid as Jake turns and walks towards the door.
J.C.: I’ve never heard you talk like this, are you gonna hit me?
Jake turns back to his son with a look of disappointment.
Jake: I’ve never hit you and I’m not gonna start now, but you’re gonna wish I was instead of what I got planned.
J.C. stands up and follows his Dad out the door as the scene fades.
On June 16th, 2013 I become IWF Cruiserweight Champion. The first ever IWF Cruiserweight Champion. I’m not stranger to being a champion, I’ve done so multiple times in my career but some mean more than others and this one is going to mean a lot to me just because of the talent that IWF has on it’s roster. It’s a chance to get my named stamped in the IWF record books for the first of many more times. I haven’t felt this good and this confident going into a match in a very long time.
It’s like I’ve been reborn.
In fact I’ve used the term ever evolving to describe myself recently and it couldn’t be more true than these last few weeks. If you go and look back on old matches of mine I’m barely recognizable from just a few years ago both in appearance and in ring style. Look up some of my old promos on Youtube, did you ever hear me give my opponents as much credit as I have this week alone? I built Freakke the Clown up to be a legit threat to win the IWF Cruiserweight Championship for Christ sake, people who’ve known me for a while think I’m ill somehow. I can assure you it’s the same guy, I just understand that anybody can beat anybody on any given week, even Mike Machado, I just gotta stop that from happening.
How am I gonna go about that though?
I’m going to out wrestle my opponents. It’s a pretty simple concept really. As good as they may be, I’m just better and deep down they know that. Even as overly confident as Bushido sounds in his mixture of broken English and Japanese he has to be feeling a little pressure because he’s gonna look like a complete fool after almost guaranteeing his victory and then failing at my hands. Much better men have tried to beat me and failed so it’s not anything to be ashamed of but I know how proud you Japanese are, Seppuku wouldn’t surprise me.
I’m really disappointed in the rest of my competition. Any bit of confidence Mike Machado had before I completely erased and now he’s accepted defeat like he should have to begin with. I think working with Gib will do you a world of good Mike. I know it’s gotta be frustrating being stuck in that lovable loser role but one day your luck will change, it just ain’t gonna be Sunday I’m afraid.
It would appear from the silence that I wasted a lot of praise on Caleb Atwood and Freakke though and they have accepted their defeat. I expected more out of you all to be honest, Machado and Bushy included, but keep your chins up fellas, once I win the Cruiserweight title I’ll have to have contenders for it. You’re all just fighting to be second best at this point anyway.
Well howdy there pardner.