The Jatticus S. Starrington Gambit

The Jatticus S. Starrington Gambit

Posted on December 11, 2022 at 7:06 pm by Jatt Starr

::::How long has he been waiting?  Forty minutes?  An hour?  Jatt Starr, sporting a white suit and vest from what one would assume is from the Colonel Sanders collection, sits against the wall on a cheap pleather couch between an elderly woman coughing into her arm and a large, muscular gentleman knitting what appears to be a scarf or a handkerchief.  The HOW Hall of Famer looks over at the busty blonde personal assistant behind the desk typing away on her laptop, psychically willing her to call him next.  Alas, it does not work.   


The Mayor of ManJattan nervously taps his fingers on the briefcase resting on his lap.  The sound of Jatt Starr’s tap-tap-tapping combined with the click-click-clicking of the personal assistant’s fingers on her keyboard accompanied with the occasional hacking cough of the old bag next to him forms one of the most annoying series of notes since a musical recital of twelve second graders who are performing after one lesson.   


The door to the right of the desk and a well dressed man exits, one of the one-percenters.  Italian shoes, tailored suit, and an unmistakable Stefano Ricci tie.   The whole wardrobe costs more than than the average monthly income of a middle class household on Long Island.   The clearly wealthy businessman waddles out with a thin, sly smile on his face.  


The personal assistant looks over towards the three people on the couch and her most professional sounding voice informs them who is next.:::::


PERSONAL ASSISTANT:  Mister Starrington, the Lieutenant Governor will see you now.


JATT STARR:  Capital!


::::The Baron of Bocaa Jatton rises from the sofa which emits a farting sound.   He brushes away any specks of dust with his free hand before starting towards the portal into the Lieutenant Governor’s office, briefcase in hand.  He turns his head towards the elderly woman and the muscular knitter.:::


JATT STARR:  Suck it, losers.


::::The Ruler of Jattlantis proceeds to enter the office.  It is tastefully decorated with a bookshelf on the wall to the right.  The Lieutenant Governor’s desk is in front of a window, the view being obscured by the red and gold curtains.   Lieutenant Governor Robert Wessel sits behind the desk, writing something down on a post-it note with a black fountain pen.  As with any fountain pen he sees, the Champion of Jattanooga wonders if it had ever been plunged into the eye of an insubordinate staff member.   


Robert Wessel is a clean cut man in his late-fourties to early-fifties, his black hair receding but slicked back nonetheless.  Lieutenant Governor Wessel is sporting a white pinstriped dress shirt and red silk tie.  He looks up from his note and stands up, extending his hand.   Robert Wessel beams a bright smile that looks genuine but is most likely phonier than a three dollar bill with Lee Best’s face on it.::::


ROBERT WESSEL:  Good afternoon!   Mister Starrington, is it?


::::The Marquis of MadagaStarr extends his free hand and gives the Lieutenant Governor a phony smile of his own as he shakes the politician’s hand with a firm grip, and proceeds to speak in a faux Southern accent.::::


JATT STARR:  Jatticus S. Starrington at your service!   An absolute pleasure to finally meet you, Mister Lieutenant Governor Weasel!


ROBERT WESSEL:  It’s pronounced “Wessel”.


JATT STARR:  My deepest apologies, good sir!  


ROBERT WESSEL:  I’ve heard much worse.   Please have a seat.


JATT STARR:  Much obliged.


::::The Jattlantic City Idol takes a seat in the Victorian style chair across from Lieutenant Governor Wessel’s desk.::::


ROBERT WESSEL:  What brings you to my office today?


JATT STARR:  The Governor refused to see me.


ROBERT WESSEL:  He is very busy during the holidays.  What can I do for you?


JATT STARR:   It is my understanding that the Governor pardons one lucky convict for the Holidays each year.  


ROBERT WESSEL:  Yes, that is correct, however if you have application to pardon a—-


JATT STARR:  No, no, no!  You misunderstand me, good sir!  I would never apply to have a hardened criminal be released back into society.   No!   Instead, I would very much like you to consider a reverse pardon.




JATT STARR:  I would implore that you and the Governor consider arresting a imprisoning a rather vile scoundrel without the benefit of a trial thereby wasting the taxpayer’s hard earned money.


ROBERT WESSEL:  That’s unconstitutional.


JATT STARR:  A villain, good sir!   A villain most nefarious!   


::::The Hero of Jattlanta opens his briefcase and pulls out a binder and drops it on the Lieutenant Governor’s desk sending an echoing thud throughout the room.


JATT STARR:  That!  That, good sir, is a detailed list of the crimes committed by Joe Bergman and I request justice!  Arrest him before his scheduled appearance at “ICONIC”!   


::::Robert Wessel opens the binder and begins flipping through it.   Skimming as he goes as Jatt Starr looks on.   There is feeling of nervousness as the proverbial butterflies flutter inside his stomach.   They sit in silence for about five or six minutes before the Lieutenant Governor speaks.::::


ROBERT WESSEL:  Whoever came up with this needs to be committed.


JATT STARR:  Committed to truth and justice!


ROBERT WESSEL:  Some of these claims seem quite…..outlandish.


JATT STARR:  And nary a fib among them.  


ROBERT WESSEL:  And others?  They aren’t even crimes.  Plagiarizing book reports.  Cheating on high school exams.  Founding the KK….N?


JATT STARR:  The Ku Klux Nazis.  They wear swastikas on their sheets when they commit their criminally racist atrocities.  It is all detailed there on page ninety-two, between clubbing seals and his proposal to turn the Amazon rainforest into a Brazilian ski lodge.


ROBERT WESSEL:  Right.  Failing to rewind VHS tapes before returning them to Blockbuster.  Urinating in holy water.


JATT STARR:  They are reflections on the man’s character!   They are proof that he is a man of ill repute and a blasphemer.  A blasphemer, I say!


ROBERT WESSEL:   Then there are the claims that he sold crack to nuns, he sold videos to grade schools of leather masked men performing “pornographic” acts with farm animals claiming that they were National Geographic documentaries, he sold aborted fetuses on the black market, he is the true BTK killer…and it goes on and on.   These are accusations and, if true, they are abhorrent.  But these are just accusations and that is it.  There is no substantive evidence included in this rather hefty dossier that he committed any of those acts.


JATT STARR:  If it is evidence you want, your eminence, then it is evidence you shall have!


:::The King of Grapple from the Big Apple reaches into his briefcase and pulls out a manila folder and hands it to the Lieutenant Governor.   Robert Wessel opens the folder and pulls out several photographs.   His expression changes from that of a politician working a crowd to shock, horror, and maybe a twinge of shame.   He looks up from the photographs to a smugly smiling Jatt Starr and his face becomes red with anger.::::


ROBERT WESSEL:  What the hell is this?


JATT STARR:  All the evidence you need to arrest Joe Bergman, lock him up in the dingiest dungeon y’all got, and lose the key.


::::Robert Wessel’s lips become pursed, his narrow.   There is no doubt that he is pondering ways to make this dandy fake Southern gentleman disappear.::::


JATT STARR:  Are you okay, sir?  Are those not photographs of Joe Bergman perpetrating abominable acts?


ROBERT WESSEL:  You know damn well what these are.


::::Robert Wessel flings a couple of the photos towards Jatt Starr who picks one of them up and feigns shock.::::


JATT STARR:  My Peaches!   The lewdness!  My virgin eyes!   Why these look like images of you licking the sphincter of the Governor himself whilst getting ramrodded by a lady dwarf with a strap-on.I have no idea how these photographs got here!   I can most certainly see why you are burning your britches.  After all, think of the scandal, not just for you but his majesty, the Governor, himself.  


ROBERT WESSEL:  You motherfucker!


JATT STARR:  I can understand your anger but there is no need for such vulgarity.  I know you would dill your pickle if’n these images find their way to the media, where your highly religious and conservative constituents would see what type of debauchery you and the Governor have been up to.   They are a God-fearing bunch, right?   Did I not read that your wife is a pastor at a local church?   They will most assuredly forgive this transgression, won’t they?  Unless, you would prefer no one sees these?


ROBERT WESSEL:  Blackmail?


JATT STARR:  I assure you sir!  There is not one African-American in any of these photos!   But then, you would know more than I, good sir!


ROBERT WESSEL:  That’s not what I meant and you know it!


JATT STARR:  Are you inquiring if I have the number of a virile black man who could satisfy your sexual needs?  I have the number to James Ranger.  I’m not too sure how keen he would be if—–


ROBERT WESSEL:  Stop playing games!   It’s clear you came here with the intention of blackmailing me for what?  To arrest some guy you clearly have a beef with on some trumped up and clearly made up charges.


JATT STARR:  You, sir, are slandering my name!  I assure you, I have provided you nothing but facts!


ROBERT WESSEL:   You’re lucky I don’t have you arrested for extortion.


JATT STARR:  You need some time to process this, I understand.  It is partially my fault.  I inadvertently brought the wrong envelope highlighting a rather carnal meeting with the good, rightwing Governor, so you must be feeling a might conflicted.  And I understand, you need to weigh your options, think things through, perhaps you jeopardize your career and ruin whatever relationship you have with the Governor, your religious community and constituents are not as forgiving for breaking your marital vows as they should be.  I am sure your wife will not suffer the shame and humiliation from her congregation after you broke one of the Lord’s Commandments.   And don’t forget about them boys at the country club who are known to make certain derogatory remarks and jokes about a certain type of person that might have flown twenty years ago but not so much today.   Scandalous!  


::::Robert Wessel looks at the photo, his eyes meeting the camera, as if looking right into it while he licks his boss’s rectal region.  The Lieutenant Governor leans back in his chair, pondering what his wife and the Governor would say to him should they see this.   Meanwhile, Jatt Starr looks at the politician across from him.  There is a feeling of confidence swelling inside of him, the Ruler of Jattlantis can almost believe this plan of his to neutralize his biggest threat at “ICONIC” could work.   He continues his pitch.:::::  


JATT STARR:   Whereas, you arrest Joe Bergman, lock him away, no one even need know about any of this.  Quite the moral quandary.   Save yourself and continue making a difference or risk all you built come crashing down due a little late night depravity.  


::::Robert Wessel opens his mouth to say something, possibly defending himself, possibly making excuses, it does not matter to the Baron of Boca Jatton.  Jatt Starr has a job to do and Jatticus is the one to close the deal.   Rather than let the politician muck up his flow he continues on, interrupting him.:::::


JATT STARR:  I need no explanation, boys will be boys, and all of that.  No judgment here.  Consenting adults and being in the twenty-first century, this type of behavior should be acceptable.  Sometimes for a big piece of the pie, we may do things we aren’t proud of, things that keep us up at night but we tell ourselves it’s for the greater good.    Maybe we bludgeon some ne’er-do-wells just so our sickly daughter can get the level of care she deserves.  Maybe we lick some ass because in order to make a real difference in the community, we need to eat shit.  Compromise, sir!   That’s politics right there!  




:::::The Starrabian Knight pauses and blinks.   Jatt Starr is taken aback..   He was sure the Robert Wessel would have immediately called for the arrest of Joe Bergman.  He would approve the liberal use of nightsticks!  After a moment, he rises from his chair, takes his binder from Robert Wessel’s desk and places it back inside his briefcase.:::::


JATT STARR:  And in case you are planning any shenanigans, do keep in mind that should anything, and I mean anything, untowards befall me, these photos will make it to the media, the Governor with a note that you were fully aware of the existence of said photos, and you wife and her church during Christmas services.


::::The former Professor of Sparrowdynamics rises from his chair, somewhat beaten, but not defeated.  The Lieutenant Governor would change his mind after he really thought about it.  Then, Lee Best will be impressed with his initiative in eliminating a top contender for the LSD Championship and one-half of the Highwaymen.   There would be a bonus coming the Duke of Jattmandu’s way.  It’s the Holiday Season, he will need every cent he can scrape together.  Especially since Heidi’s tastes are of the more expensive kind and his daughter’s medical bills continue to mount.  In the end, Jatt Starr will win out.::::


JATT STARR:   Oh, by the way, do keep the photos.  I am sure I can locate others.   I bid you good day sir and DO wish your family happy holidays from me, if you please.


::::The Jattsylvanian Count closes the briefcase and proceeds to exit the office.  With each step he becomes increasingly dejected that maybe his gambit has failed.  Maybe the Lieutenant Governor will fold, but it is unlikely.  After all, he is right, this is America and there is such a thing as due process.  And yet, there is some darker voice inside of him telling him to send the photo out anyway just because he can and just to be petty for not doing what the Ruler of Jattlantis wants him to do.   Jatt Starr leaves the office and heads home.:::::




Desperate times call for desperate measures.  The Sultan of SeaJattle admits there was an almost narcotic fueled high when it was believed that Joe Bergman’s career was over.   There was a certain level of bragging rights that I took knowing it was me that scrambled Joe Bergman’s brain like an egg.  


The Thane of Starrkarth has been airing your dirty laundry for weeks now and your silence speaks volumes.   You know everything the Sheriff of Jattingham has said is one hundred percent true and that if you even try to deny these claims, your trousers will spontaneously combust and catch fire but if you admit the truth everyone who looks up to you from your family to terminally ill little Timmy wearing the Joe Bergman Highwaymen t-shirt in his hospital bed rooting for you to pull off the impossible, winning the LSD Championship and the Tag Team Championship in the same night, well, they would look at you a little differently, they will feel like you let them down.


And you did, turdwaffle.


In fact, we both know that you were only Halitosis fifty percent of the time.  We both know someone else was under the mask when Halitosis beat Sektor.  The Jatti Master has the video evidence to prove it and will show the world after El Jattador de Starrcelona becomes the LSD Championship for a third time!   


Just think, the first show of 2023, Jatt Starr Appreciation Night!   The Ruler of Jattlantis strutting his stuff to the ring, the LSD Title over his shoulder, entering the ring, and bragging about how he not only won the LSD Championship but also how he called a match fairly and right down the middle and declared Jace Parker Davidson and Scott Stevens the new tag team champions!   And how Joe Bergman finally got his comeuppance before showing the world rare footage from September thirteenth 2019.  Footage showing Halitosis removing his mask and revealing that he is……


NOT Joe Bergman.   The identity will remain secret until after the Jattlantic City Idol’s LSD Coronation.   


Why would I not expose you now?  Well, first of all, unlike you on a subway car full of nuns, the Duke of Jattmandu has great restraint when it comes to exposing the goodies.   I want to take this opportunity to break you down physically first.  I want to take you apart at the joints, I want to make sure you leave ICONIC a two time loser.  


The Rembrandt of Wrestling will expose you as the fraud you are, first in the ring, and then outside of it.   Your life is about to flushed down a New Jersey Turnpike public restroom toilet and the Starrson City Icon’s hand is on the handle.


That brings us to the LSD Champion himself, Jace Parker Davidson.  Jace, old sport, we used to be on the same page, weren’t we?  We were friends!  Pals!  Compadres!  Chums!  Good time buddies!  The Starrpathian Lord defended you and some of your questionable actions.  But something changed, didn’t it?


And we both know what it was, don’t we?   You straight up fucked me.  You didn’t even have the courtesy to buy me dinner or put on a condom.  You just fucked me.   You screwed the Marquis of MadagaStarr over the second Lee Best dangled a Hall of Fame entry over your head.   You sold me out for the Hall of Fame.


Don’t get me wrong, you deserved being entered into it, but to have it handed to you on the basis of flipping on your best pal?   That takes you out of the A-List, Top Tier Hall of Fame talents like Christopher America, Mike Best, Max Kael, Sektor, Narcotic, and the Sultan of SeaJattle.  Now, you are a D-Level, bottom tier Hall of Famer like Bobbinette Carey, David Black, and Matt Boettcher.


The Champion of Jattanooga feels like you might want to respond to this, maybe mock the tier system but the proof is, as they say, in the pudding.  You know that gloopy mess in the kiddie pool that strippers battle each other in at the “Petty Pussy Cat Lounge”, a particular gentlemen’s club that the Mayor of ManJattan hears you frequent.   The point is, when the Rembrandt of Wrestling takes the LSD Championship from you at “ICONIC”, there is nothing you can say, there is nothing you can do, I will have proven that Jatt Starr is a Top Tier Hall of Famer and you are no better than Bobbinette Carey.


Scott Stevens and Steve Solex?   Suck it.  You are both B-level Hall of Famers and not worth my time.  But hey, at least you are a couple of levels above Jace, am I right?