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The Ewings Ruined My Life
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<blockquote data-quote="stevew" data-source="post: 246211" data-attributes="member: 130"><p>I picked my favorite "victim" of the Ewing's, Jeremey Wendell:</p><p></p><p>The Dallas Skyline . . . An all glass high rise, rooming up to the near top floors . . . inside a boardroom various people gather around a board table with the man standing at one head, well dressed, in a suite, a screen behind him. “Welcome to H. R. Smithfield and Associates. I’m Jacob Davids. Mr. Wendell’s estate has been turned over to me to manage. He asked that you all be here. He also asked that I begin with a video.” The man steps aside.</p><p></p><p>A ninety-some year-old Jeremy Wendell appears on the screen, frail, sitting next to a fireplace, at a desk. “This must seem strange, watching me, as it means I am no longer here. I’ve spent a great many years brooding over what became of me and I have not yet let go of the fact that the Ewing’s ruined my life. When my father sold his oil company to West Star, I thought I was on top of the world. I know had the resources and the allies to build a giant corporation to revival the pieces of Standard Oil. I won more often than I lost, but it’s the last lost you all know about, the one I never stood up from, the one where J. R. Ewing continued to kick at me, where his henchmen dug up and made up everything they could to keep me locked up and keep me battling in court to hold onto anything. Then one day he left me alone. I wasn’t worth his time anymore.</p><p></p><p>He spent decades controlling West Star from behind the scenes, playing everyone like puppets. His brother and x-wife finally sold Ewing Oil to West Star and then he really got clever.”</p><p></p><p>A young man speaks up from the gathering. “Do we really have to sit here and listen to my grandfather go on and on about the Ewing's?</p><p></p><p>The video is stopped. The lawyer says, “Actually yes. If every step of Mr. Wendell’s will is not carried out I am to liquidate and donate everything to charity.”</p><p></p><p>The older woman puts her hand younger man and says, “He’s just trying to have his let. Just let him continue so we can all get on with life.”</p><p></p><p>The video resumes. “In the shadows he lobbied against the estate tax and removed it, at least for one year. The year as it happens he died. Supposedly Cliff Barnes, admittedly a total nut job, killed him in Mexico. With J. R.’s contacts in Mexico he was able to deal with Barnes. Barnes’ lawyer would have kept any case locked up court for ever. But I don’t believe the whole thing, as I never believe in happenstance. Just like supposedly Cliff found some information that showed J. R. swindled the finance of his son. Yes, I’ve watched them closely. Cliff was always a poor follower of J. R.’s.</p><p></p><p>J. R. set about a plan to create Ewing Industries, the giant, family owned enterprise that put him on top, even after his death. Forty-two percent is owned by each son, Sue Ellen’s boy John Ross and Calley’s son Bo, and sixteen percent by the estate of Carlos DelSol. And what did he acquire. West Star’s refineries and gas stations. Ryland Logistics. That one he put Harris Ryland in prison and saw to getting Judith Brown into the Senate. Mark my words, if you tangle with the Ewing’s they destroy you. If you cooperate, well you get rewarded. His son also built a mercenary company, Branch Water, from some CIA contacts he made. This is deep state stuff. Nothing on the surface of the dotter old man who state alone in a nursing home was true. He managed to get the business’s Cliff and his sisters controlled, Wentworth Tool and Die and Barnes Global media being the two most important pieces he was after. He even got ahold of his nephews Ewing Alternative business as well as South Fork’s oil and the South Fork Cattle Company. And he put back together Ewing Oil as the country’s largest pure play oil company. There’s a chemical company. A paper company. A bank. Dive deep into Ewing Industries and you’ll find an empire built on the carcasses of people like me and my family. He destroyed the nation of Hatta to get at their oil, sending their homosexual prince back from America, exposing him and his family to a civil war. He got at oil leases in artic days before the last president went sneaking out of Washington with his tale between his legs. Don’t believe that John Ross just happened to caught up in his father’s plans either. He’s possibly worse than his father.</p><p></p><p>Now I’ve always said you can be good at business or you can be good at family, but not both. Obviously to everyone here, I was a failure at family. But I was not a failure in business despite J. R. Ewing. I learned to stay clear of him. I also learned from him to work within the shadows, but I never, NEVER forgot who my enemy was. Neither should you.”</p><p></p><p>Jacob Davids stepped back in front of the white screen. He holds up fanned out envelops, the first name on the one in front, 'Sue Ellen Lockwood, Lady Maitland.' “These twelve are being sent from the Estate of Jeremey Wendell to twelve women, mostly, obviously not all, lovers of his.”</p><p></p><p>“My God,” the one woman spoke up again. “What are they checks?”</p><p></p><p>“Some,” the lawyer continued. “Debts. Notes to pick up personal belongings. That sort of thing.”</p><p></p><p>“Disgusting.”</p><p></p><p>“The remainder resides in trust for Mr. Wendell’s twenty-six descendants.”</p><p></p><p>The young man who spoke up earlier said, “And what is that remainder?”</p><p></p><p>“One asset and a whole lot of debt. Sixteen percent of Ewing Industries.”</p><p></p><p>“What?” the entire room exclaims.</p><p></p><p>“Paul, you’re named as sole Trustee and this letter of instructions are for your eyes only.” Davids hands him a thick letter.</p><p></p><p>The entire room of twenty-six erupts in anger aimed at both Jeremy Wendell and J. R. Ewing.</p><p></p><p>Fade away to the Dallas theme song . . . . . Dallas, starring in alphabetical order:</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="stevew, post: 246211, member: 130"] I picked my favorite "victim" of the Ewing's, Jeremey Wendell: The Dallas Skyline . . . An all glass high rise, rooming up to the near top floors . . . inside a boardroom various people gather around a board table with the man standing at one head, well dressed, in a suite, a screen behind him. “Welcome to H. R. Smithfield and Associates. I’m Jacob Davids. Mr. Wendell’s estate has been turned over to me to manage. He asked that you all be here. He also asked that I begin with a video.” The man steps aside. A ninety-some year-old Jeremy Wendell appears on the screen, frail, sitting next to a fireplace, at a desk. “This must seem strange, watching me, as it means I am no longer here. I’ve spent a great many years brooding over what became of me and I have not yet let go of the fact that the Ewing’s ruined my life. When my father sold his oil company to West Star, I thought I was on top of the world. I know had the resources and the allies to build a giant corporation to revival the pieces of Standard Oil. I won more often than I lost, but it’s the last lost you all know about, the one I never stood up from, the one where J. R. Ewing continued to kick at me, where his henchmen dug up and made up everything they could to keep me locked up and keep me battling in court to hold onto anything. Then one day he left me alone. I wasn’t worth his time anymore. He spent decades controlling West Star from behind the scenes, playing everyone like puppets. His brother and x-wife finally sold Ewing Oil to West Star and then he really got clever.” A young man speaks up from the gathering. “Do we really have to sit here and listen to my grandfather go on and on about the Ewing's? The video is stopped. The lawyer says, “Actually yes. If every step of Mr. Wendell’s will is not carried out I am to liquidate and donate everything to charity.” The older woman puts her hand younger man and says, “He’s just trying to have his let. Just let him continue so we can all get on with life.” The video resumes. “In the shadows he lobbied against the estate tax and removed it, at least for one year. The year as it happens he died. Supposedly Cliff Barnes, admittedly a total nut job, killed him in Mexico. With J. R.’s contacts in Mexico he was able to deal with Barnes. Barnes’ lawyer would have kept any case locked up court for ever. But I don’t believe the whole thing, as I never believe in happenstance. Just like supposedly Cliff found some information that showed J. R. swindled the finance of his son. Yes, I’ve watched them closely. Cliff was always a poor follower of J. R.’s. J. R. set about a plan to create Ewing Industries, the giant, family owned enterprise that put him on top, even after his death. Forty-two percent is owned by each son, Sue Ellen’s boy John Ross and Calley’s son Bo, and sixteen percent by the estate of Carlos DelSol. And what did he acquire. West Star’s refineries and gas stations. Ryland Logistics. That one he put Harris Ryland in prison and saw to getting Judith Brown into the Senate. Mark my words, if you tangle with the Ewing’s they destroy you. If you cooperate, well you get rewarded. His son also built a mercenary company, Branch Water, from some CIA contacts he made. This is deep state stuff. Nothing on the surface of the dotter old man who state alone in a nursing home was true. He managed to get the business’s Cliff and his sisters controlled, Wentworth Tool and Die and Barnes Global media being the two most important pieces he was after. He even got ahold of his nephews Ewing Alternative business as well as South Fork’s oil and the South Fork Cattle Company. And he put back together Ewing Oil as the country’s largest pure play oil company. There’s a chemical company. A paper company. A bank. Dive deep into Ewing Industries and you’ll find an empire built on the carcasses of people like me and my family. He destroyed the nation of Hatta to get at their oil, sending their homosexual prince back from America, exposing him and his family to a civil war. He got at oil leases in artic days before the last president went sneaking out of Washington with his tale between his legs. Don’t believe that John Ross just happened to caught up in his father’s plans either. He’s possibly worse than his father. Now I’ve always said you can be good at business or you can be good at family, but not both. Obviously to everyone here, I was a failure at family. But I was not a failure in business despite J. R. Ewing. I learned to stay clear of him. I also learned from him to work within the shadows, but I never, NEVER forgot who my enemy was. Neither should you.” Jacob Davids stepped back in front of the white screen. He holds up fanned out envelops, the first name on the one in front, 'Sue Ellen Lockwood, Lady Maitland.' “These twelve are being sent from the Estate of Jeremey Wendell to twelve women, mostly, obviously not all, lovers of his.” “My God,” the one woman spoke up again. “What are they checks?” “Some,” the lawyer continued. “Debts. Notes to pick up personal belongings. That sort of thing.” “Disgusting.” “The remainder resides in trust for Mr. Wendell’s twenty-six descendants.” The young man who spoke up earlier said, “And what is that remainder?” “One asset and a whole lot of debt. Sixteen percent of Ewing Industries.” “What?” the entire room exclaims. “Paul, you’re named as sole Trustee and this letter of instructions are for your eyes only.” Davids hands him a thick letter. The entire room of twenty-six erupts in anger aimed at both Jeremy Wendell and J. R. Ewing. Fade away to the Dallas theme song . . . . . Dallas, starring in alphabetical order: [/QUOTE]
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