Jacks Jams Volume 1: Hell in a Bucket

Estadio Chevron; Tijuana, Mexico

2/13/26

“Get that bumbling fool on the phone, Jimmy!”

Jimmy Lawson, the son of the great JD Lawson, only has a great name and nothing of substance himself. He was indeed a delusional teenager with dreams of grandeur he can only accomplish when he is in a fantasy world while playing a video game. He is most definitely not lit as the youth would say.

On this day though, the angry words of his father had him putting a little pepper (not John) in his step as he speed walked towards the weed demon himself, Jack Marley.

Jack looked like a complete mess. His new Afro was uneven, and his head was wrapped from his recent ‘gun to the side of the head,’ injury so haphazardly that it just looked like an uneven scarf around his insane hair.

His eyes were sunken and he muttered to himself as he prepared to walk out to the ring and announce to the world that The Miracle Man was gone.

“Um, Jack my dad…”

“JACK YOU MORON, I KNOW YOU AREN’T IN MEXICO, RIGHT?”

The words, angry and loud, reverberated off the brains of Jack and Jimmy. Jimmy, looking frightened, just stared at Jack who oddly grabbed the phone calmy.

“I’m doing this, JD. Steve would want me to do this, and I am not letting you hold me back again!”

‘HOLD YOU BACK? I AM SURE STEVE WOULD RATHER BE FOUND THEN HAVE YOU WRESTLING A FUCKING LASAGNA BOY!”

Jack nods at the statement but he now looks more resolved than ever, “I GOT THIS, MON!”

The ThunderCannabis looks at the phone and sneers at it as he pushes the end button. He throws the phone back at Jimmy harder than Jimmy expected as he fumbles it to the floor.

“Make sure you have my music ready, Jimmy. We are going to make history here!”

Jimmy looks at the phone making sure it isn’t broken and gives him the thumbs up. “Off to the production trailer I go!”

--

February 8th, 2026

Selfish? Part 1

It sure had been a day…well actually days. Jack Marley was back at Octopus Headquarters with a pounding headache and tired eyes. Sleep had been difficult with nightmares being a constant for our weed warrior.

He grimaced.

He was supposed to be the Coral Protector, right?

But he got high…but he got high…but he got hiiiiiigh.

He didn’t want to say that aloud though.

He didn’t want The Octopus to find out he was late to where Steve and Ellis met because he got lost when his bloodshot eyes misread a sign.

No…he felt bad enough.

It wasn’t just the thought of his failures that kept him awake with nightmares. It was what he saw. It was what came after. It was the blood.

All the blood.

HIS blood too.

He had decided while dealing with his head pain what he was going to do. He sat up in his bed staring at his original boss, JD Lawson. He suddenly felt a rush of determination he had not felt since they were in high school.

“I…

CUT

--

December 10th, 1997

The snow had finally let up as JD Lawson and Jack Irwin (The future Marley) launched snowballs from behind a line of trees to the cars driving by. Occasionally, you would hear the splat of a snowball hitting its mark and the pair would then move elsewhere to hide just in case an angry motorist stopped and came hunting for them.

“What time is it, dude?”

Jack dropped a snowball he had in his hand when JD asked him the time. He looked at his watch, “shit.”

“What?”

“Practice is in five minutes!”

“Chillax. It’s our senior year, who cares if we are late to wrestling practice.”

Jack shakes his head, “are you serious?” Jack does not wait for a response, “I want to win state and to do that I have to beat that scrub that gave me my only loss this year.”

Lawson groans, “fine, let’s go, I will take blame from coach. I forgot you cared about this.”

Jack stomped away annoyed at what JD said. Even though he was shorter he moved much quicker than the nonchalant attitude his best friend had. “I forgot you don’t care about anything,” Jack says without looking behind him.

Lawson shrugs to Jacks back but doesn’t respond, leaving Jack to become even more annoyed at his friend.

“Have you even thought about what you are going to do after high school?”

Jack slows down as he hears Lawson stop his feet from trudging in the snow. “It was all planned out until things changed a few years ago, so I decided to just roll with whatever happens.”

Jack turns with hope in his face, “let’s follow your brother!”

Lawson begins laughing and shakes his head, “pro wrestling?”

--

February 8th, 2026

Selfish? Part 2

“…Am going to take Steve’s place and beat the marinara out of Toddrick.”

“No.”

Well, that was a quick response from JD Lawson, which felt like a dagger twisting inside him to Jack. Everything had always come to easier for his longest friend. Nobody ever thinks of them in the same sentence. It had devasted Jacks confidence the past thirty years but in the last year he had begun to find himself again. He had been working out. He had been building his muscles. He was learning to fight again.

“I don’t need your permission, friend,” a surprisingly serious sentence left Jacks mouth and flung itself at Lawson.

Lawson’s face now red in anger, “SHUT THE FUCK UP, JACK!”

Marley shakes his head but that slow amount of movement makes him dizzy and he closes his eyes and puts his head in his hands. He whispers a response, “this is my chance, JD, my last chance. I will keep Steve’s name alive by doing this.”

The Former KING of the FWF takes a deep breath to calm himself and then continues to stare daggers into Jack. “Let me get this straight, you think Steve would prefer YOU to wrestler in PRIME for him instead of finding out what happened to him?”

“Look at me JD, do you think I don’t want to find Steve?” His eyes gloss over as he remembers what he saw days ago, “I will do everything I can to help find him, but I freeze up when I try to remember everything more about that day. I am a coward remember? I am a weakling remember? I cannot go a day without T-H-C running through my veins remember?” Each comment out of Jacks mouth became a tad more bitter.

“Oh,” JD nods his head, “it looks like Jack Irwin has wiggled himself back from under the cloud of smoke,” he stands up and stares down at Jack. “I am not sure what you are thinking right now but your time has passed. You could have worked harder before but instead you became a joke and don’t take that the wrong way because your decision most definitely made my life easier. But don’t try to guilt me into approving this just because YOU thought I had it easy and YOU had it soooo tough.”

Jack tilts his head and struggles out a smile, “I have no idea what you are talking about, KING, I just need a hose, an apple, and a faucet washer and I will be as right as rain and as high as the rain cloud, mon.”

Lawson shakes his head and scoffs at Jack, “keep my son out of your nonsense too, Jack.”

JD Lawson slams the door on his way out and Jacks smile fades as stares at the slow-moving ceiling fan above him.

“I could really go for a box brownie with…weed.”

He closed his eyes.

He trembled.

His eyes flew open.

“Anything to forget. Anything to sleep.”

Fade.

--

Mexico City

March 10th, 2026

“He’s here!”

Jimmy Lawson, the future (ugh) of wrestling for the Lawson’s, turns his head from the front door to his sensei (ugh) Jack Marley.

The two are in what most people would remark to be a cheap hotel.

Or as Jack so eloquently put it when they checked in a ‘roach motel hehehehe,’ yea that is a weed reference for anyone who hasn’t caught on to Jack Marley's fetishes yet.

Jack decked out in his best tie-dye and corduroy pants makes sure the ‘Steal Your Face Grateful Dead,’ shirts skull colors were popping out.

He sits down in a wooden chair, best described as future firewood with a cushion that has more cuts than a bodybuilder before a show.

“Let him in, Jimmy, we must get advice from this man.”

Jimmy shrugs and opens the door. In steps a Mexican Priest. He is dressed casual but still wears his roman collar around his black polo. In his right hand he holds a bible. He looks around and then locks his eyes on Jack, and his serious face contorts in utter confusion at what he is looking at.

“PADRE, WE ARE IN DIRE NEED OF YOUR HELP.”

He takes a few steps towards Jack but doesn’t seem to know English very well and Jack…well…does anyone think he understands Spanish?

“Que?”

Jack stands up and quickly walks over to the Padre and grabs his hands, “It is the worse news I have ever heard, mon” Jack looks around weary of people spying on him. He leans forwards and whispers, “Satan has returned.”

“Que?”

Jack nods and let’s go of The Padres hand. “And he is a wrestler, what am I…I mean WE going to do?”

The Padre looks at Jimmy with a look that just screamed please help me, “De qué está hablando este tipo?” (What is this guy talking about?).

Jimmy nods back at him and then looks at Jack, “he asked what you need from him to fight him.”

The Clownfish grabs a bucket from behind his chair and pours the contents on the floor, “I have garlic powder, salt, a crucifix, and a wooden stake. I call it my personal Hell in a Bucket, and we will stop Satan from even getting in the ring with these!”

The Padre shrugs and looks back at Jimmy, “No tengo tiempo para esto.” (I don’t have time for this)

Jimmy laughs, “I know, bro, that shit is only good against Vampires!”

“Dammit,” Jack replies as he curses to the ceiling. “You should have told me this Jimmy, instead of making me look bad in front of The Padre. I know Rico is going to have something to say about this after he gave me permission to talk to him.”

“I told you like eight times, man. Every time you said something about Satan having the strongest feet you had ever seen,” the stupid teenager responds. Of course, at this point he did not look like the dumbest person in the room. “Then you licked your rolling papers, rolled a joint and lit it. I swear you have smoked more joints just on the car ride then an Octopus has tentacles.”

Jack, with a worried look jumped out of his chair and got within inches of Jimmy’s face, “what do you know about The Octopus, boy…I mean mon?”

The youngster takes a step back surprised by the seriousness in Jacks face, “um…it looks slimy and I cannot believe people would eat it. Is that what this is about, Jack…do you have the munchies?”

Between all this nonsense The Padre slowly began inching himself away from the two and towards the door. Jack sees it from the corner of his eye and walks swiftly in front of The Padre and stares crazily into his eyes. “Don’t worry Padre, Satan is unaware of our meeting. Or do you also have hunger pains?”

Alas our poor Priest just cannot escape the clutches of the eye-bloodshot bandit. He groans to himself and responds with a lot more emphasis this time, “Es obvio que no es el verdadero Satanás. Es solo un luchador con un nombre ridículo.” (It is obvious he isn’t the real Satan. He is just a wrestler with a stupid name.)

It was a long comment this time but Jimmy in his pretending to understand looks back at Jack, “he was also wondering why his last name is Jones and that he is wrestling.”

Marley rubs his chin as he is in deep thought. “Hmm. Hmm. Hmm. Hmm,” he put his finger up, “I reckon he wishes to make himself look unthreatening but at the same time lift his fighting prowess by competing in PRIME.”

“Of course,” Jimmy says in total agreement.

Of course?

What the hell.

Oops, let’s not mention that place right now.

“This is why it is so important we stop him in his infancy, mon.”

“He isn’t a baby.,” Jimmy says with a confused look on his punchily young face.

“No, I mean…wait a second, maybe he is aging quicker so he can take over not only wrestling but THE WORLD, is that something Satan can do, Padre?”

The Padre again begins his escape again and moves another ten feet towards the door but suddenly the hand of Jack grabs him by the shoulder and squeezes harder than the Priest thought this foolish marijuana maniac could. He stops, Jack releases him, and The Padre rolls his shoulder to try to ease the pain.

“Ustedes están locos y se lo voy a decir a Rico.” (You guys are insane and I am going to tell Rico.)

“I get it, Padre. All you have to do is turn on the TV and watch the news to think that Hell might have already won. That is why this is so important, I WILL DO EVERYTHING IT TAKES TO STOP HIS ADVANCE!” Jack finishes with a yell. He leans over trying to catch his breath back.

Jimmy begins clapping his hands in support of detective dankness. “Hell yea, they are going to make a movie based on your defense of the world against Satan.”

Jack huffs and he puffs in his chair, but a smile had now come to his face. He hadn’t noticed of course that during this time The Padre had skedaddled quicker than a bear to honey out the hotel door. He was probably already around the street corner drinking some horchata and calling Rico about the nonsense he just endured.

Marley finally looks up and his smile was now replaced with concern, “DID SATAN GET TO THE PADRE ALREADY?’

Jimmy shakes his head, “he gone.”

A horrified looks comes to Jacks face, “he went to a better place.”

“Nah, he walked out the door muttering in Spanish while you were catching your breath.”

“Ooooooooh,” Jack says with his eyes large in surprise. “Well, uh…that is beside the point right, Jimmy?”

“Sure?”

Jack sits back down on his rickety hotel chair and nods back at Jimmy. “I ain’t scared Satan.”

“Jones.”

“I have been beaten, bruised, and bloodied for almost thirty years without a damn thing to show for it, Satan.”

“Jones!”

Jack stares daggers at Jimmy who notices the change in Jacks demeanor finally and mouths sorry towards his trainer. “With that said,” he stares at Jimmy, “Mr. Jones,” pauses to make sure Jimmy doesn’t say anything and then continues, “I never said I liked it.”

Jack takes his lighter out of his pocket and starts moving it through his fingers, “I didn’t have a choice, Satan. My whole life has been doing what is best for my adopted family. Before it was The Octopus it was always JD and me. I did whatever it took for him to succeed and afterwards I did the same for Steve and if that meant I got in the way of some cowboy buffoon with no loyalty and get tossed across the hallway then so be it.”

He grimaces as he remembers when Clay Byrd face palmed him and tossed him through a table. “Be that as it may, Satan, I have tossed you aside my entire life and inside the ring you may be bigger, badder, redder, stronger, and have mythical powers but I have these,” Marley flexes his biceps.

Jimmy comes over with measuring tape and measures the HUGE biceps and then whispers to Jack. Jack frowns and puts his arm down, “never mind that, Satan but what I do have is a heck of a lot of gumption!” The Ganja God looks back at Jimmy, “but…really?

Jimmy holds in a laugh and nods back to Jack. Jack pouts for five seconds and then puts his lighter back in his pocket. “This is my last chance, Satan. This isn’t even a chance I was given. I had to take it and trust me, I know it isn’t popular among The Octopus. That is why it doesn’t matter to me if you have horns that poke my eyes out. I have already been to hell and survived when I was addicted to that pill over a year ago. The Marine Biologist constantly tells me that I am lucky to still be alive so if I go down defending PRIME from the wrath of Satan then so be it!”

‘HERE-HERE!” Jimmy exclaims.

KNOCK-KNOCK

Jack and Jimmy both jump in surprise. Jack points ag the door and Jimmy walks oven d looks through the eye hole and then walks as quietly as he can back to Jack. “It’s Rico.”

“Jack mouths ‘shit,’ and then he points at the lights, “turn off all the lights and pretend to go to bed.”

The lights go out and both Jack and Jimmy hide under the sheets of their bed bug infested beds.

“I know you are there, you coward. I am reporting this to JD, and I will not forget you insulted The Padre either,” the normal stoic Rico yells through the door angrily.

Jack lets out a deep breath and whispers, “I’m coming for you, Satan, no amount of feetsies will protect you from the amazing Jack Marley.”

--

December 2nd, 1998

It had been six months of intense training and today was the day JD Lawson and Jack Irwin would be told about their future in wrestling. Jack had taken to as if it had run in his family. His mat skills and his stamina were the best in the class, but he was also the shortest competitor. JD on the other hand seemed to sleepwalk through much of the training but when it came to looking like a future champion, he was the one everyone was compared to.  He was the one who had the best look and his arrogant mic skills stood out in a group of nervous kids.

The untapped potential was immense when the trainer looked at JD Lawson though. He was quick to learn the skills and believed he just needed that push to finally buy in and pursue this career as a wrestler.

“You both came here together on Ellis Jackson’s recommendation,” The UWFs top trainer and former World Champion Manson Combs says. “I will speak to both of you together since you are a package deal.”

Jack begins to shake with nervous excitement while JD leaned back on his arms as both sat on the wrestling mat in front of Combs. This is what the last six months boils down to.

“JD, we have a spot in the UWF for you, and it will all depend on the work you put in to see how you progress,” Mason pauses afterwards and sighs. “Jack, I have no doubt you are best technician here, but we cannot take you on a wrestler because you are just too small. I believe if you really want to be a wrestler doing the rounds in the independents is what can prove to other people that your height won’t hold you back. You must learn how to fight those bigger and stronger than you.”

The original deflategate had just occurred.

Jacks face lost all its color, and his body froze on the dirty mat. This had never occurred to him because he was the BEST here, talent should always override physical attributes he had believed.

Was this nepotism?

Was Ellis the real decision maker here?

Lawson looked at Jack and pat him on the shoulder, “don’t worry about it man, we can…”

Jack puts on a fake smile, “no, we are not walking away from this. I am sure there is something I can do help you and by doing so get my foot in the door.”

“Are you sure?”

Jack gulped his anger down and nodded, “what can I do, Manson?”

“I suppose you can work as JDs helper, but…”

Jack stands up, “I’ll do it.”

“…But I don’t suggest it, was what I was going to tell you, but so be it,” Mason walks away.

Lawson stands up, “I don’t get it, Jack.”

Jack ignores him, “I need something that will let me stand out.”

Cut