"Blood Bounty"
Aug 15, 2021 3:34:48 GMT -5
Roy "The Sorrow" Harlowe (NJC), robriot, and 4 more like this
Post by Jesse Jamester on Aug 15, 2021 3:34:48 GMT -5
“Five thousand? You insult me Carner. It’s going to take a lot more than that to find someone to do your dirty work. Anyone who steps up, remember, it's your funeral.”
Rubbing his chin as he turns in his chair. Jesse Jamester was in his Calgary, Alberta farm home at the dining room table. In his every day clothes, no mask, and his hair hanging freely on his shoulders - the staples still visible in his cranium.
“Neo… the one. Okay, that is catchy. I bet you use that to pick up rats at the clubs right? Well, I hope that line still works after I thump on your face like I’m tenderizing my steak. Carner, you were not my target on Honor. That was only a message I was sending to Keith Williams. Unfortunately I was slow to jump in sooner or Billy Fowler would have taken home the victory… aye, there is always next time.”
Picking up his fork, we see Jesse Jamester stab a slab of medium-rare steak on a plate in front of him. Dressed with sautéed onions and mushrooms, and some home fried potatoes to the side. He takes a bite, chewing the food for a few moments, and swallows. Licking his lips, which are barely visible through the unkempt and shaggy beard he sports.
“The Revenants made this personal when they tried to take me out. I don’t know where you boys are from, but around these parts - a man takes care of business when you threaten his livelihood! I called you all wanted, dead or alive before... and I mean it. One by one, I'm going to pick a branch of your group, and break it off. When I'm done with the first, I'll move on to the next. I'm going to take my time with each of you... because I feel I need to drive my point across. NJC, Garcia... Williams, you're on borrowed time.”
Sliding the plate forward, Jesse stands from his seat and walks over to the fridge. Opening the door, he looks inside - a minute goes by and he shuts the door. Standing upright, he rubs his hairline, and then opens the fridge door again. Suddenly, as though an ‘Ah ha’ moment strikes, he reaches for the bottom shelf and retrieves a beer bottle of Molson. Shutting the door he walks back to the dining room table, and removes the non-twist off top of his beer with his index and thumb finger like he was flipping quarters.
“Bounty or not, you are all dead men to me now. Before that attack I had respect for your group of bandits. I didn’t agree with your antics, but I respected the men and the abilities they brought to the table. Each one of you, undeniably, have carved a path in this business in your own unique way. I can relate to that… but unfortunately, your path is now crossing mine, and the respect has been buried.”
Pausing to swig the beer, Jesse sets the bottle down near his plate. A bit of foam rests on the mustache hairs of his beard.
“I’m not the man you want hunting you down. I swear on my son, this does not end with a handshake and a pat on the back boys.”
Walking to the front door, Jesse opens it, and looks outside. Nothing there. He shuts it and walks back to the table, but pauses at his chair. Turning back to face the camera.
“Keith Williams, this scar is a daily reminder for me... You wanted me fired up, well you got your wish granted. Honor was just a taste. The next time I get my hands on one of you — Oh — it’s going to be a divine experience for the Revenants. THAT, I guarantee.”
Sitting down, Jesse goes back to eating his steak and potatoes. The warning was loud and clear. Nobody was getting off the hook that easily.
Walking up to a glass sliding door, the Canadian Nightmare looks through and sees his son Julius sitting upright in a hospital bed. The door slides open and he enters.
Julius: Hey old man!
Jesse: Who you calling old boy?
Julius leans over and goes to stand up, and Jesse motions to remain sitting with his hand.
Julius: Only mug I’ve seen today, that’s who.
Jesse: How you feeling?
Julius: Better than yesterday. Surgeries are all done. Rehab and speech therapy now.
Jesse: Sounds like you’re ready to bust outta here and get home, huh?
Julius: Soon…
Leaning over off the hospital bed, Julius grabs a water bottle and takes a sip.
Jesse: Good. It’s been boring as hell at home without you. Don’t know how I lived in that big house all those years alone.
Julius: Oh, you missed me huh?
Jesse: Yeah, okay, I miss ya — don’t be yelling it to the world alright?
Julius: not that anyone would care anyway.
Shrugging, Jesse sits in a chair facing his son on the bed.
Julius: Fuck happen to you?
Pointing at the staples in his head.
Jesse: Just some prick trying to make a name.
Julius: Looks like he came close.
Jesse: Aye, don’t worry about me, worry about yourself. We need to get you healthy and out of here.
Julius: Why, you tired of cooking for yourself?
A stern stare from his dad, and Julius’ laughs gently, poking fun at his father’s established habits from being on the road for years.
Julius: It won’t be long now. Doctors have said I’m making great progress. Couple of weeks, maybe a month - tops.
Nodding, Jesse stands up and places his hand on his son’s shoulder.
Jesse: I promise that nothing like this will ever happen to you again, I mean that.
Julius: Dad, you can’t make promises like that. I know what I signed up for.
Jesse: What I did to Spike Kane - the next person who tries to attack my family will wish that was all I do to them. I swear on your mother, it won't happen again... (Pause) I'll see you soon.
Looking at his dad with a look of concern but understanding, Julius lets the conversation go and stands up, hugging his dad. Jesse returns the sentiment and exits the room.
Rubbing his chin as he turns in his chair. Jesse Jamester was in his Calgary, Alberta farm home at the dining room table. In his every day clothes, no mask, and his hair hanging freely on his shoulders - the staples still visible in his cranium.
“Neo… the one. Okay, that is catchy. I bet you use that to pick up rats at the clubs right? Well, I hope that line still works after I thump on your face like I’m tenderizing my steak. Carner, you were not my target on Honor. That was only a message I was sending to Keith Williams. Unfortunately I was slow to jump in sooner or Billy Fowler would have taken home the victory… aye, there is always next time.”
Picking up his fork, we see Jesse Jamester stab a slab of medium-rare steak on a plate in front of him. Dressed with sautéed onions and mushrooms, and some home fried potatoes to the side. He takes a bite, chewing the food for a few moments, and swallows. Licking his lips, which are barely visible through the unkempt and shaggy beard he sports.
“The Revenants made this personal when they tried to take me out. I don’t know where you boys are from, but around these parts - a man takes care of business when you threaten his livelihood! I called you all wanted, dead or alive before... and I mean it. One by one, I'm going to pick a branch of your group, and break it off. When I'm done with the first, I'll move on to the next. I'm going to take my time with each of you... because I feel I need to drive my point across. NJC, Garcia... Williams, you're on borrowed time.”
Sliding the plate forward, Jesse stands from his seat and walks over to the fridge. Opening the door, he looks inside - a minute goes by and he shuts the door. Standing upright, he rubs his hairline, and then opens the fridge door again. Suddenly, as though an ‘Ah ha’ moment strikes, he reaches for the bottom shelf and retrieves a beer bottle of Molson. Shutting the door he walks back to the dining room table, and removes the non-twist off top of his beer with his index and thumb finger like he was flipping quarters.
“Bounty or not, you are all dead men to me now. Before that attack I had respect for your group of bandits. I didn’t agree with your antics, but I respected the men and the abilities they brought to the table. Each one of you, undeniably, have carved a path in this business in your own unique way. I can relate to that… but unfortunately, your path is now crossing mine, and the respect has been buried.”
Pausing to swig the beer, Jesse sets the bottle down near his plate. A bit of foam rests on the mustache hairs of his beard.
“I’m not the man you want hunting you down. I swear on my son, this does not end with a handshake and a pat on the back boys.”
Walking to the front door, Jesse opens it, and looks outside. Nothing there. He shuts it and walks back to the table, but pauses at his chair. Turning back to face the camera.
“Keith Williams, this scar is a daily reminder for me... You wanted me fired up, well you got your wish granted. Honor was just a taste. The next time I get my hands on one of you — Oh — it’s going to be a divine experience for the Revenants. THAT, I guarantee.”
Sitting down, Jesse goes back to eating his steak and potatoes. The warning was loud and clear. Nobody was getting off the hook that easily.
Walking up to a glass sliding door, the Canadian Nightmare looks through and sees his son Julius sitting upright in a hospital bed. The door slides open and he enters.
Julius: Hey old man!
Jesse: Who you calling old boy?
Julius leans over and goes to stand up, and Jesse motions to remain sitting with his hand.
Julius: Only mug I’ve seen today, that’s who.
Jesse: How you feeling?
Julius: Better than yesterday. Surgeries are all done. Rehab and speech therapy now.
Jesse: Sounds like you’re ready to bust outta here and get home, huh?
Julius: Soon…
Leaning over off the hospital bed, Julius grabs a water bottle and takes a sip.
Jesse: Good. It’s been boring as hell at home without you. Don’t know how I lived in that big house all those years alone.
Julius: Oh, you missed me huh?
Jesse: Yeah, okay, I miss ya — don’t be yelling it to the world alright?
Julius: not that anyone would care anyway.
Shrugging, Jesse sits in a chair facing his son on the bed.
Julius: Fuck happen to you?
Pointing at the staples in his head.
Jesse: Just some prick trying to make a name.
Julius: Looks like he came close.
Jesse: Aye, don’t worry about me, worry about yourself. We need to get you healthy and out of here.
Julius: Why, you tired of cooking for yourself?
A stern stare from his dad, and Julius’ laughs gently, poking fun at his father’s established habits from being on the road for years.
Julius: It won’t be long now. Doctors have said I’m making great progress. Couple of weeks, maybe a month - tops.
Nodding, Jesse stands up and places his hand on his son’s shoulder.
Jesse: I promise that nothing like this will ever happen to you again, I mean that.
Julius: Dad, you can’t make promises like that. I know what I signed up for.
Jesse: What I did to Spike Kane - the next person who tries to attack my family will wish that was all I do to them. I swear on your mother, it won't happen again... (Pause) I'll see you soon.
Looking at his dad with a look of concern but understanding, Julius lets the conversation go and stands up, hugging his dad. Jesse returns the sentiment and exits the room.
