Wednesday, October 1, 2003 - Brandon, MB
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We had it...we were so close.  Jeff proved himself though.  There is no doubt whatsoever that he is a worthy champion. Seamus however, is worthier, or was.

But it belongs to the Jacobins.  And it shall be a prize we will capture sooner than later.

Seamus was the epitome of a warrior, and I hoped that he didn't construe my walking away after the match as disgust or disappointment.

My only displeasure was with that belt being around the waist of someone Authority.  I had no qualm with Jeff.  My qualm is with his loyalty, as I decided a few days ago in my New York City condo.

I had a bottle of scotch in my hand.  I knew Seamus was outside talking with Jeff, and I expected either Seamus to come in, and maybe give me hell for knocking Jeff out flat on his ass, or else Jeff, wanting to destroy me.

---

Wednesday, October 1, 2003 - Brandon, MB

So close...

Seamus knew it. He could smell it. He could taste it. He could feel it...

But on this night, it was not enough. On this night, like many other nights before, Kushner was once again, the better man; the champion that he deserved to be, the champion that he earned the right to be.

Seamus knew this in his heart, respected Kushner all the more.

But what of Lancaster? What of the gold brass knuckles, the shot to Jeff, the way he so abruptly left the ringside area at the conclusion of the match?

What of Lancaster indeed?

Seamus would have an answer, and he would have an answer now.

After a lengthy chat with the champion on the return trip to the dressing room area, he focused his sights on the Jacobins locker room, and the man that sat alone within as their teammates began to make their way towards the ring, ready for battle...

---

The door opened, and in walked Seamus.  He had a blank look on his face, and his body was dripping sweat and blood, and he look exhausted, obviously.   Who wouldn't be. The Duke didn't know what quite to say.  He didn't know how he'd react.  But there was one thing that was continuous and unifying.

"Scotch?"  Lancaster held the bottle up to him as he stood there, looking down.

"'Scotch'? Is that all ye've got to say fer yerself...after the shyte ye just pulled out there...yer offerin' me scotch???"

Shit.  Robert was still unsure of his next move.

"What more can I say...better luck next time?  I'm sorry?  I should have have told you ahead of time about my plan, so as next time guarantee victory?  What else can I say?"

"'What else can I say', he asks me...what else can ye say??? WHAT THE FECK ELSE DO YE THINK YE CAN SAY, LAD??? Because the way I see it...the way I see it...ye, takin' a wee shot at Jeff wi'those brass knuckles...ye seem to have forgotten somethin'...an' do ye know what that is, lad??? DO YE???"

"...do tell."  He was oblivious by that moment, just waiting for the explosion.

Seamus held aloft his shillelagh; Lancaster blinked, awaiting the consequence.

"This..." Seamus continued, "is what ye fergot, lad...ye fergot about Mr. Shillalagh to smash over his head too...ach, besides, I may be losin' me memory from a few too many chair shots over the last seventeen years...but somehow, someway...I don't seem to ever recall Mr. Brass Knuckles' bein' a founding member o'the Jacobins, like Mr. Shillelagh, isn't that right?"

[As Mr. Shillelagh]: "Feckin' right!!! Feckin' Mr. Brass Knuckles stealin' my goddamned thunder!!! Feckin' aye!!!"

Seamus continued, "So ye see lad...we've got ourselves a wee problem here. Mr. Shillelagh's not happy, an' when Mr. Shillelagh's not happy...Seamus isn't happy...an' when Seamus isn't happy...some feckin' eejit's gonna have to pay!" Seamus winked at Lancaster.

Lancaster smirked.

"...'Mr. Gold Brass Knuckles,' thank you.  And no,"  Lancaster shrugged, "you're right...he hasn't been around nearly as long as 'Mr. Shillelagh.'   Well Christ sit down lad, you must be exhausted."

Seamus nodded and sat down opposite him.

"And as you well know I am a poor poor man.  I'm afraid all I can pay right now is in scotch.  And I must say I'm relieved...I wasn't sure how you'd react once Jeff told you what I did...frankly I'm surprised he hasn't busted in here yet looking to kick my arse.  And how rude of me, please, have a drink."

Seamus smiled, graciously accepting the scotch from Lancaster.

"Ach, well lad, it's like last week, ye know...at Last Man Standing, when I spat in Kushner's face...business is business lad, and that was most definitely business...just as I know that what ye did tonight, wi' 'Mr. Gold Brass Knuckles,' was also business...[sipping from the scotch] The question is: where do ye go from here, lad? What's yer next order o'business?"

Good question.

"I suppose...you and I will have to deal with Jeff sooner than later, and hope to convince him that our attack wasn't on him, but on the Authority.  I just don't know lad...he's never stuck by us in the past - he's always been loyal to himself, and to those bastards in the Authority - but never to us, not in the ring anyway.  And, obviously whatever comes after this card, we'll have to deal with and plan together, how to overcome any odds."

"Auch, yer not at all wrong there, lad. An' with the Authority once again returnin' in strength, wi'Mace's apparent return...it'll be all the more important that we maintain our position o'power, lad. Jeff's always been loyal to us outside the ring, yer not wrong there...but yer right about that, lad when it comes to inside the ring. He abandoned me when the Pogue Mahone Union needed him the most, an' fer what? Because he couldn't beat Dean Smith?"

Both men shook their heads in dismay.

"He's so...goddamn stubborn," Lancaster laughed.  "No wonder he wouldn't stay down after you nailed Forty Shades of Pain. But I must say lad: you did awesomely out there tonight...you should have walkd back here with another gold strap around your shoulder as far as I'm concerned."

Seamus grinned.

"Auch, thanks lad...I did everything I could...EVERYTHING...but that Jeff's a tough wee bastard, an' all Jacobins business aside...he deserves a hell of alot o'credit."

"That we can't deny, and I give him that much.  I just look forward to the day where I can hear him being announced as 'Jacobin member' rather than 'Authority bitch.'"

Both laughed as the Duke's mobile rang.  

"Pardon me, please."  Lancaster got off the couch and got his phone and answered it.

"Lancaster...ah my cherry cheesecake."

Seamus snickered..."'Cherry Cheesecake'??? What the fupp???"

Robert motioned his hands in the air to shush Seamus momentarily.  The Irishman laughed quietly as the Duke stuck a finger in his ear to hear better.

"How are you...I'm alright, I'm almost finished my..." he looked over at the snickering Seamus.  "...business meeting.  Yes I am quite busy, I'll call you back later tonight, I promise.  What do you mean you don't care...cheeky bitch...yes I miss you too. Alright speak later my dear."

He hung up and sat back down opposite Finnegan.

"Ach, don't tell me, let me guess: that was her Majesty, callin' ye up to wish ye well or somethin'?"

Lancaster's eyes grew mischevious.  "Aye that's it, calling her my 'cherry cheesecake' and a 'cheeky bitch,' aye that's right I want to end up in the Tower of London...although I doubt Philip would mind me having an affair with her.  But UGH lad give me a little credit here, you think the best that I can do is someone in their seventies?"

"Auch, don't mind me, I was just pullin' yer chain, lad! So tell me, what's the crack?"

Seamus gave him the ol' "Nudge Nudge, Wink Wink."

"My newest acquisition, a 33 year old PhD graduate from NYC named Marissah.  Met her in a little hotel bar a few weeks ago.  We hit things off with a...bang."

Say no more!

"Auch, ye mean ye showed her yer sword an' she shined it all up fer ye? Is that the crack?"

Subtle lewdness was always fun.

"Yes indeed, and I knighted her...twice.  All joking aside though.  She's hopelessly vain and shallow, at least in some ways.  But damn...she's awesome.  But enough about me...what's up with you between now and our next venture to destroy our...oh...enemies of freedom."

"Ach, well...I was thinkin' o' goin' back up to Thompson to see my brother fer a few days, but after me last trip up there...ah'm not so sure ah'd be welcomed wi'open arms, if ye know what I mean...what wi'all the business wi'our da'. So ah'll be headin' home fer a week or so, ye know, spend some time wi'the wife an' son...just takin' it easy, ye know?"

"Absolutely.  Sounds like a plan.  Mind you your period of rest may be shattered if we're scheduled for next week's show...never know when you'll be getting a nother heavyweight title shot, lad."

Lancaster winked.

"At any rate.  Next week or whenever is going to be a fairly busy one I'll anticipate.  We'll both have to deal with Jeff sooner than later.  And who the hell else knows...we're marked men with these tag team straps."

Seamus nodded.

"Aye lad, yer not wrong there, an' ye know what?"

Seamus had that same old sadistic glint in his eye, the glint of a madman ready to explode.

"Bring 'em on...bring 'em all on...we may be the ones wi'the targets on our backs because o'these [Seamus raised his tag team gold]...but as far as ah'm concerned...they're all feckin' dead men."

Robert turned his head and noticed that "Diamond" Lou had appeared on their TV screen.

"And with any luck...as will Tanke and Skene.  Here's to Wright and TSM lad...and to our Jacobin cause...may Jeff know its liberty someday...and may we wear those World Tag Team titles again with pride and dignity.  Libertas an mortis, lad."

The glint of the madman in Seamus' eyes remained firm as he grinned.

"Feckin' aye...feckin' AYE."