One Day
Need I remind you all of one
thing. I am the Dark Lord. And the mortal named Robert
Edward James Lancaster II is my servant, my minion, one who shall do my
will when I command it, whatever it may be. I own his soul and
have given him greatness in return. The fool knows nothing of
what is to come. Oh the ignorance and the bliss of the moment of
innocence. I shall shatter it all. For now however: the
money flows freely. His power is endless. His existing
greatness shall be multiplied. Until I deem otherwise.
I: Tuesday, October 11, 2005: Wessex, England: Lancastrian Ancestral Estate
It's been several months since Simkins and I made our little arrangement while sitting in the little pub just outside the estate here in Wessex. The arrangement is one of treason against my master: a betrayal of trust, of privacy, of duty. It could cost me my livelihood, and destroy my years of meticulous service in other esteemed households, service which garnered me the position I hold today, that of chief steward of the Lancastrian household.
It could also land me in prison. Since that time I have been on the look out, on behalf of Simkins of any evidence of betrayal, criminally or emotionally, to the Duke, perpetuated by Her Grace, the new Duchess of Wessex. I trust her not.
I have not known Simkins terribly long, but I trust him more than I have trusted any man I have ever met. And he has a deep rooted conviction buried in his soul that this woman, my master, will be the downfall of the House of Lancaster and will shatter the Dukedom to utter oblivion.
I sometimes think to myself though: what has she done to me? What ill has she committed to my person? She has always been fairly cordial. She demands things done her way, right away, and I fulfill that duty whenever she is here in England. She is grateful for my services and has even complimented me on a few occasions.
I see the way she talks to her husband however. I see the love in his eyes for her. He is utterly devoted to her, and would give all he has for her.
Does she reciprocate?
I hear the buzz of the call button at the front gates. A few moments later and I release the gates, for the subject of my watch has arrived. He is the new financial advisor to Lancaster International's holdings, a Mr. Paulus: associate and close personal friend of Her Grace. He now has documented and full access to all of His Grace's financial holdings, both personal, and those tied up in his title of Duke of Wessex and the lands therefore entitled to him.
I open the door for this tall German and he greets me with a friendly handshake. I take his jacket and escort him to the study, where he immediately sets to work with his notebook computer. For now I wait. After he's gone, the work begins. Let's see what happens.
II: Tuesday, October 11, 2005: Trump International Hotel and Tower, New York City, NY
I hate this. I can't read and it's pissing rain outside. I hate something else even more though.
Paulus is away in England and has been for a day only. But I miss him so much. I miss his touch, I miss his presence, and I sure as fuck miss the sex.
I suppose I shouldn't complain too much though. I convinced Robert that Paulus, being the financial wizard that he is, would be perfect to help diversify and update my sweetie's portfolio and holdings for Lancaster International. My failing to mention that Paulus was fired from Goldman Sachs? Just a minor oversight on my part. He's going to make us a lot richer. Our little scheme earlier may have been foiled when I pussied out and refused to take part in it all those months ago, but now we have a new plan. And when I say "make us richer" I of course mean me and Paulus. Whether my sweetie will benefit...that we're not sure of.
Robert's out right now doing God knows what, he was up and out of here before I awoke. He might be out training I suppose, seeing that OLW is up and running again after Coronation. A tag match, whose point is lost on me. He should be wearing the OLW Title by now. They're so unfair to him, it makes me sick.
I wouldn't be surprised if the She Bitch Stephanie and her fat dog Seamus show up at the next show. I'm so sick of even thinking of the two of them, that husband of mine really has to sweep those bastards off the face of the earth, once and for all.
I'm resolved. The second he steps in that door I am going to lay it down to him: eliminate them with all speed or else face my wrath. Let's see what happens.
III: Tuesday, October 11, 2005: O'Leary's Pub, Belfast, Northern Ireland
Even with a crowded Tuesday night crowd and Heretical Madonna playin' grand tunes on stage, I feel quite alone. I know what's layin' in front of me. Time's tellin' me loud and clear. 'Tis plain as the feckin' Guinness glass that sits in fro'of me eyes. And I nay like the look of it either.
This match I know is comin' up. I don't know what'll become of me, or him for that matter. I hate the very idea that I've gotta take me former best friend and destroy him...cause I feckin' know he'll try to do the same to me. But no matter who wins, I don't know what the consequences'll be. We'll both come out of that match for the worst.
Bones may break, and blood will be spilled...aye, I have nay doubt about that. And lives will change forever more, aye, that is the most dire of all consequences.
"Lad."
I look up and take a sip from me Guinness. O'Leary stands over lookin' me, lookin' serious as get all.
"Aye O'Leary."
"The lads and I, all of us here at the pub, we all know what ye've got coming up...even if it's nay been announced...ye made it perfectly clear last time around in June. And now that OLW's up 'n' runnin' again, 'tis only a matter of time. And ye gotta do what ye gotta do lad...and nobody here will blame ye for it."
"Aye, I know O'Leary. I just nay like thinkin' about't."
Out of the corner I see Stephanie walk in, her wee boy in hand, and Simkins, dressed smartly, always the dignified gentleman. Auch God bless wee Eddie...he runs up to me and I pick him up.
"Auch how's it goin' wee man, ye bein' a good lad for yer mother?"
Stephanie smiles happily. "He's been good Seamus. How are you."
I shrug slightly. "Can't complain love. Simkins grand to see ye as always lad."
"Likewise as always sir." We exchange firm handshakes.
O'Leary comes on over to greet the new comers.
"Simkins wonderful to have ye back, and Yer Ladyship, even more so as always." O'Leary usin' the ol' Irish charm kisses Stephanie's hand. She turns a wee bit red. Robert's the daftest bugger on Earth giving up a woman like her. O'Leary smiles even greater at Edward.
"And how's me big lad doin', ye want a Guinness there laddy?"
"Yes!!" We all share a good laugh. God bless the wee ones.
"No you don't young man, not for a few years anyway." Stephanie picks him back up into her arms.
"I hope we're not too early to get you Seamus."
I shake me head. "Nay at all. I'm ready." I finish the last of me Guinness and look at O'Leary. We need not exchange any words as I slip a twenty pound note across to him.
Stephanie, wee Eddie and Simkins exit as I catch a few chords of Heretic Madonna's rendition of "Whiskey, You're the Devil."
# Whiskey you're the devil, yer leadin' me astray #
# Over hills and mountains and to Amerikay #
I consider their words and exit O'Leary's and step into the waiting limousine to take us to Belfast International. Destination? Aye...back to the States. To finish this. This time though, 'tis nay whiskey that's leading me to America...but 'tis the work of some devil. Let's see what happens.
I: Tuesday, October 11, 2005: Wessex, England: Lancastrian Ancestral Estate
It's been several months since Simkins and I made our little arrangement while sitting in the little pub just outside the estate here in Wessex. The arrangement is one of treason against my master: a betrayal of trust, of privacy, of duty. It could cost me my livelihood, and destroy my years of meticulous service in other esteemed households, service which garnered me the position I hold today, that of chief steward of the Lancastrian household.
It could also land me in prison. Since that time I have been on the look out, on behalf of Simkins of any evidence of betrayal, criminally or emotionally, to the Duke, perpetuated by Her Grace, the new Duchess of Wessex. I trust her not.
I have not known Simkins terribly long, but I trust him more than I have trusted any man I have ever met. And he has a deep rooted conviction buried in his soul that this woman, my master, will be the downfall of the House of Lancaster and will shatter the Dukedom to utter oblivion.
I sometimes think to myself though: what has she done to me? What ill has she committed to my person? She has always been fairly cordial. She demands things done her way, right away, and I fulfill that duty whenever she is here in England. She is grateful for my services and has even complimented me on a few occasions.
I see the way she talks to her husband however. I see the love in his eyes for her. He is utterly devoted to her, and would give all he has for her.
Does she reciprocate?
I hear the buzz of the call button at the front gates. A few moments later and I release the gates, for the subject of my watch has arrived. He is the new financial advisor to Lancaster International's holdings, a Mr. Paulus: associate and close personal friend of Her Grace. He now has documented and full access to all of His Grace's financial holdings, both personal, and those tied up in his title of Duke of Wessex and the lands therefore entitled to him.
I open the door for this tall German and he greets me with a friendly handshake. I take his jacket and escort him to the study, where he immediately sets to work with his notebook computer. For now I wait. After he's gone, the work begins. Let's see what happens.
II: Tuesday, October 11, 2005: Trump International Hotel and Tower, New York City, NY
I hate this. I can't read and it's pissing rain outside. I hate something else even more though.
Paulus is away in England and has been for a day only. But I miss him so much. I miss his touch, I miss his presence, and I sure as fuck miss the sex.
I suppose I shouldn't complain too much though. I convinced Robert that Paulus, being the financial wizard that he is, would be perfect to help diversify and update my sweetie's portfolio and holdings for Lancaster International. My failing to mention that Paulus was fired from Goldman Sachs? Just a minor oversight on my part. He's going to make us a lot richer. Our little scheme earlier may have been foiled when I pussied out and refused to take part in it all those months ago, but now we have a new plan. And when I say "make us richer" I of course mean me and Paulus. Whether my sweetie will benefit...that we're not sure of.
Robert's out right now doing God knows what, he was up and out of here before I awoke. He might be out training I suppose, seeing that OLW is up and running again after Coronation. A tag match, whose point is lost on me. He should be wearing the OLW Title by now. They're so unfair to him, it makes me sick.
I wouldn't be surprised if the She Bitch Stephanie and her fat dog Seamus show up at the next show. I'm so sick of even thinking of the two of them, that husband of mine really has to sweep those bastards off the face of the earth, once and for all.
I'm resolved. The second he steps in that door I am going to lay it down to him: eliminate them with all speed or else face my wrath. Let's see what happens.
III: Tuesday, October 11, 2005: O'Leary's Pub, Belfast, Northern Ireland
Even with a crowded Tuesday night crowd and Heretical Madonna playin' grand tunes on stage, I feel quite alone. I know what's layin' in front of me. Time's tellin' me loud and clear. 'Tis plain as the feckin' Guinness glass that sits in fro'of me eyes. And I nay like the look of it either.
This match I know is comin' up. I don't know what'll become of me, or him for that matter. I hate the very idea that I've gotta take me former best friend and destroy him...cause I feckin' know he'll try to do the same to me. But no matter who wins, I don't know what the consequences'll be. We'll both come out of that match for the worst.
Bones may break, and blood will be spilled...aye, I have nay doubt about that. And lives will change forever more, aye, that is the most dire of all consequences.
"Lad."
I look up and take a sip from me Guinness. O'Leary stands over lookin' me, lookin' serious as get all.
"Aye O'Leary."
"The lads and I, all of us here at the pub, we all know what ye've got coming up...even if it's nay been announced...ye made it perfectly clear last time around in June. And now that OLW's up 'n' runnin' again, 'tis only a matter of time. And ye gotta do what ye gotta do lad...and nobody here will blame ye for it."
"Aye, I know O'Leary. I just nay like thinkin' about't."
Out of the corner I see Stephanie walk in, her wee boy in hand, and Simkins, dressed smartly, always the dignified gentleman. Auch God bless wee Eddie...he runs up to me and I pick him up.
"Auch how's it goin' wee man, ye bein' a good lad for yer mother?"
Stephanie smiles happily. "He's been good Seamus. How are you."
I shrug slightly. "Can't complain love. Simkins grand to see ye as always lad."
"Likewise as always sir." We exchange firm handshakes.
O'Leary comes on over to greet the new comers.
"Simkins wonderful to have ye back, and Yer Ladyship, even more so as always." O'Leary usin' the ol' Irish charm kisses Stephanie's hand. She turns a wee bit red. Robert's the daftest bugger on Earth giving up a woman like her. O'Leary smiles even greater at Edward.
"And how's me big lad doin', ye want a Guinness there laddy?"
"Yes!!" We all share a good laugh. God bless the wee ones.
"No you don't young man, not for a few years anyway." Stephanie picks him back up into her arms.
"I hope we're not too early to get you Seamus."
I shake me head. "Nay at all. I'm ready." I finish the last of me Guinness and look at O'Leary. We need not exchange any words as I slip a twenty pound note across to him.
Stephanie, wee Eddie and Simkins exit as I catch a few chords of Heretic Madonna's rendition of "Whiskey, You're the Devil."
# Whiskey you're the devil, yer leadin' me astray #
# Over hills and mountains and to Amerikay #
I consider their words and exit O'Leary's and step into the waiting limousine to take us to Belfast International. Destination? Aye...back to the States. To finish this. This time though, 'tis nay whiskey that's leading me to America...but 'tis the work of some devil. Let's see what happens.