Post by Jay O'Brien on Jan 31, 2007 13:06:33 GMT -5
[Start.]
[Jay rises from his slumber, grabs his gown, ties it round himself. It’s not so cold in the apartment that Jay would sleep in anything more than boxers, and he hasn’t, but the outside? That’s a different story. 5 AM on a Canadian January morning is all cold and frost. And that’s without snowfall. Whoever is outside is pretty committed, to be there, at the O’Brien residence, at this time of morning, in this kind of climate.]
[Jay staggers into the lounge, goes to Andy’s door. He knocks.]
JOB: Andy, you in there?
[An uninterpretible gargle comes from the other side of the door. I guess that means Andy’s in... so who’s this then...? Even Jay seems surprised to hear Andy respond.]
[They knock again, on the front door.]
JOB: Coming...
[Jay opens it. There’s no latch, no spyhole. He just flings it open. It could’ve been anyone, but hey, who’s going to ambush two professional wrestlers in their apartments...? Well... I guess you could come up with some answers, probably even some good ones at that, but that’s probably what Jay figured nonetheless.]
[There, a man, shivering from the cold, wrapped up in a heavy tan-brown boot-length coat. He beams a smile so bright it defies his tired baggy eyes. He continues to smile, holding it, holding it, hooooldiiiing it...]
JOB: Who are you?
[Five in the morning isn’t the best time to expect a warm welcome from a stranger at the door of their own place.]
STRANGER: You don’t remember me?!
[The stranger sounds aghast.]
JOB: I don’t not remember you. I don’t know you.
STRANGER: Jay! It’s me! Jack Brown?!
[Jay stares at “Jack Brown”, perplexed.]
JOB: I’m sorry, I...
BROWN: You mean... you mean to tell me that after all these years... Andy never introduced us?!
JOB: Well, I...
BROWN: Typical Andy!
[Jack continues to flash that blinding grill of his.]
[For a moment, Jay is dumbstruck. For a moment.]
JOB: Look, I’m sorry, okay, so you know Andy and you know me, that’s great. But it’s five in the morning, and I’m exhausted, as I’m sure you are... yes?
[Jack Brown’s mouth closes in on itself, and he nods, seriously.]
BROWN: Yes, yes, where are my manners? Jay, I have a proposal for you.
JOB: Can’t it wait?
BROWN: Jay, in my line of work, waiting can be fatal. Well, not fatal-fatal, but you know what I mean.
[Jay is literally just staring at Jack now, all shock and awe. He’s getting impatient.]
JOB: What the (BLEEP) do you want, Jack?
BROWN: I want... I want to manage you.
JOB: Huh?
BROWN: I’m an agent, Jay. I’ll sort out all your financial worries, all your contractual troubles, everything. Just like I did for Andy.
JOB: I don’t have---
BROWN: You will. Believe me, Jay, you will. This is professional wrestling, there’s money to be made. I hear you’re on the upcoming Pay-Per-View? How much are they paying you for it?
JOB: That’s none of your---
BROWN: I can double it. God’s truth [Jack crosses himself], I’ll double it.
[NOW Jay is interested. Still tired, but interested.]
JOB: [Sceptically] You’ll double it?
BROWN: Swear down, Jay, wouldn’t lie to you. Worked for your family for years, did wonders for your brother. Made him a marquee name. You want to see your face on the posters for the next big event? I’ll sort it. I’ll do that for you. Hell, I’m Jack Brown. Genuine miracle worker, the real deal, your agent, kid, best in the business.
[Fast talk. Tired Jay.]
JOB: All right, look. I’ll tell you what, I’ll meet you later for coffee, okay. We’ll talk things over. But once again, it’s five in the morning, and... (BLEEP), I’m tired, guy.
BROWN: Call me Jack.
[Jack beams, extending his hand.]
JOB: Jack.
BROWN: Oh, err, one more thing... can I... would it be too much trouble to sleep here?
[Slam.]
[Cut.]
[Back.]
[Just Jay. Lights, camera, action.]
JOB: Hey Johnny. Sorry about that cheap shot at Action!, you know, but hey, money’s money, right? Mr. Winchell, he wanted me to give you a crack, get the fans into the match we’re gonna have at Cold Snap. You know how it works, it’s business, this is wrestling, it’s a contact sport after all, right?
[Jay sneers, contorted top lip and all that.]
JOB: Yeah. You get it. It’s not personal, but it will be. That’s right, Johnny, I’ll tell you right now that by the end of this week, I’m gonna hate you. I’m gonna be seeing your ugly face every where I go, on every single person that I meet, every single person that pisses me off. That’s how it works with me, buddy. You give me an opponent, anybody, and by the end of the week I’ve only got one thing in mind: beating them, crippling them, torturing them. All of them. You see, everybody’s a threat to me, Johnny. I don’t get complacent. Hell, I’ve had some real pieces of crap thrown at me so far in NAPW, and I took each and every one of them seriously. Saffire, Chamberlain, Krusty Kid Paul. All very different men, all very different in their talents. But what do they all have in common?
JOB: Oh yeah. I beat them.
JOB: Johnny, you see this?
[It’s Jay’s list. All three of those men have been scratched off it. Jay points his pen at Johnny Rotten’s name. He threatens to cross it off, then stops.]
Jack "Grey Knight" Saffire
Marcus Chamberlain
Krusty Kid Paul
Johnny Rotten[/color][/b][/center]
JOB: You know what this means? It means, you’re next. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not my desire to sit here and remind you about those “great” victories and pretend that means I’m going to win. What’s that worth? Nothing. No, Johnny, I just want to make one point, pure and simple. When this week is over, when Cold Snap is upon us, and when we’ve both laced up our boots – I’m going to cross you off.
JOB: Why you?
JOB: Well like I said, Mr. Winchell gave me the idea. He told me, said that out of all the guys that had joined NAPW in the last few months, we were the best. You and I. We were the most promising. Hell, it’s not just me that’s undefeated here, it’s you as well. That’s why I’m not going to bore you with a bunch of bull(BLEEP) stats, and that’s why you’re not going to bore me with them either. Right, Johnny?
JOB: Johnny, if I’m going to get to the next level – I’m talking Tuesday Night Fights, in case you didn’t know, and title shots, and all that jazz – then I’m going to have to be the best of the bunch, the cream of the crop, the number one rookie. I’m going to have to take this undefeated streak and run with it all the way to the top. But not only that, I’m going to prove to everybody, once and for all, that it is I who am the future of this business. Winchell said we’re the best? Me and you? Honours even, points shared?
JOB: I don’t (BLEEP)ing think so.
[Jay is slipping, slowly, into the same state we’ve seen him work himself into time and again already.]
JOB: Johnny, I don’t share (BLEEP). I take for myself and only myself. I do whatever has to be done, whatever it takes. I don’t want a slice of the god damn pie, I want the whole (BLEEP)ing thing. And I’ll have it. Believe me, Johnny, I’ll have it. I’ll gorge myself on it, and you, your friends, your enemies, the whole NAPW locker room will sit and watch me do it. I am the most potent threat to the upper most echelons of this business that anybody has ever known.
JOB: The. Hottest. Newcomer.
JOB: When your name’s crossed off my list, that won’t just be conjecture, that will be FACT. That’s all I deal with, Johnny – facts. Here’s another: I need to win. Every single (BLEEP)ing match. I need to win them. I’m an ambitious man, Johnny. I don’t like second place. I don’t like to sit in somebody else’s shadow. I don’t like to watch somebody do what I know full well I could do better. That’s why I don’t respect any of the current NAPW title holders. “Champions”. That’s why I need to get past you, get to them. That’s why, when I’m done with you, I’ll continue to tear through wrestler after wrestler. Every last, worthless one of them. Everybody on this list.
JOB: Johnny... be aware...
JOB: It’s your turn.
[Zoom on the name, on the list, and fade.]
[Jay rises from his slumber, grabs his gown, ties it round himself. It’s not so cold in the apartment that Jay would sleep in anything more than boxers, and he hasn’t, but the outside? That’s a different story. 5 AM on a Canadian January morning is all cold and frost. And that’s without snowfall. Whoever is outside is pretty committed, to be there, at the O’Brien residence, at this time of morning, in this kind of climate.]
[Jay staggers into the lounge, goes to Andy’s door. He knocks.]
JOB: Andy, you in there?
[An uninterpretible gargle comes from the other side of the door. I guess that means Andy’s in... so who’s this then...? Even Jay seems surprised to hear Andy respond.]
[They knock again, on the front door.]
JOB: Coming...
[Jay opens it. There’s no latch, no spyhole. He just flings it open. It could’ve been anyone, but hey, who’s going to ambush two professional wrestlers in their apartments...? Well... I guess you could come up with some answers, probably even some good ones at that, but that’s probably what Jay figured nonetheless.]
[There, a man, shivering from the cold, wrapped up in a heavy tan-brown boot-length coat. He beams a smile so bright it defies his tired baggy eyes. He continues to smile, holding it, holding it, hooooldiiiing it...]
JOB: Who are you?
[Five in the morning isn’t the best time to expect a warm welcome from a stranger at the door of their own place.]
STRANGER: You don’t remember me?!
[The stranger sounds aghast.]
JOB: I don’t not remember you. I don’t know you.
STRANGER: Jay! It’s me! Jack Brown?!
[Jay stares at “Jack Brown”, perplexed.]
JOB: I’m sorry, I...
BROWN: You mean... you mean to tell me that after all these years... Andy never introduced us?!
JOB: Well, I...
BROWN: Typical Andy!
[Jack continues to flash that blinding grill of his.]
[For a moment, Jay is dumbstruck. For a moment.]
JOB: Look, I’m sorry, okay, so you know Andy and you know me, that’s great. But it’s five in the morning, and I’m exhausted, as I’m sure you are... yes?
[Jack Brown’s mouth closes in on itself, and he nods, seriously.]
BROWN: Yes, yes, where are my manners? Jay, I have a proposal for you.
JOB: Can’t it wait?
BROWN: Jay, in my line of work, waiting can be fatal. Well, not fatal-fatal, but you know what I mean.
[Jay is literally just staring at Jack now, all shock and awe. He’s getting impatient.]
JOB: What the (BLEEP) do you want, Jack?
BROWN: I want... I want to manage you.
JOB: Huh?
BROWN: I’m an agent, Jay. I’ll sort out all your financial worries, all your contractual troubles, everything. Just like I did for Andy.
JOB: I don’t have---
BROWN: You will. Believe me, Jay, you will. This is professional wrestling, there’s money to be made. I hear you’re on the upcoming Pay-Per-View? How much are they paying you for it?
JOB: That’s none of your---
BROWN: I can double it. God’s truth [Jack crosses himself], I’ll double it.
[NOW Jay is interested. Still tired, but interested.]
JOB: [Sceptically] You’ll double it?
BROWN: Swear down, Jay, wouldn’t lie to you. Worked for your family for years, did wonders for your brother. Made him a marquee name. You want to see your face on the posters for the next big event? I’ll sort it. I’ll do that for you. Hell, I’m Jack Brown. Genuine miracle worker, the real deal, your agent, kid, best in the business.
[Fast talk. Tired Jay.]
JOB: All right, look. I’ll tell you what, I’ll meet you later for coffee, okay. We’ll talk things over. But once again, it’s five in the morning, and... (BLEEP), I’m tired, guy.
BROWN: Call me Jack.
[Jack beams, extending his hand.]
JOB: Jack.
BROWN: Oh, err, one more thing... can I... would it be too much trouble to sleep here?
[Slam.]
[Cut.]
[Back.]
[Just Jay. Lights, camera, action.]
JOB: Hey Johnny. Sorry about that cheap shot at Action!, you know, but hey, money’s money, right? Mr. Winchell, he wanted me to give you a crack, get the fans into the match we’re gonna have at Cold Snap. You know how it works, it’s business, this is wrestling, it’s a contact sport after all, right?
[Jay sneers, contorted top lip and all that.]
JOB: Yeah. You get it. It’s not personal, but it will be. That’s right, Johnny, I’ll tell you right now that by the end of this week, I’m gonna hate you. I’m gonna be seeing your ugly face every where I go, on every single person that I meet, every single person that pisses me off. That’s how it works with me, buddy. You give me an opponent, anybody, and by the end of the week I’ve only got one thing in mind: beating them, crippling them, torturing them. All of them. You see, everybody’s a threat to me, Johnny. I don’t get complacent. Hell, I’ve had some real pieces of crap thrown at me so far in NAPW, and I took each and every one of them seriously. Saffire, Chamberlain, Krusty Kid Paul. All very different men, all very different in their talents. But what do they all have in common?
JOB: Oh yeah. I beat them.
JOB: Johnny, you see this?
[It’s Jay’s list. All three of those men have been scratched off it. Jay points his pen at Johnny Rotten’s name. He threatens to cross it off, then stops.]
Marcus Chamberlain
Krusty Kid Paul
Johnny Rotten
JOB: You know what this means? It means, you’re next. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not my desire to sit here and remind you about those “great” victories and pretend that means I’m going to win. What’s that worth? Nothing. No, Johnny, I just want to make one point, pure and simple. When this week is over, when Cold Snap is upon us, and when we’ve both laced up our boots – I’m going to cross you off.
JOB: Why you?
JOB: Well like I said, Mr. Winchell gave me the idea. He told me, said that out of all the guys that had joined NAPW in the last few months, we were the best. You and I. We were the most promising. Hell, it’s not just me that’s undefeated here, it’s you as well. That’s why I’m not going to bore you with a bunch of bull(BLEEP) stats, and that’s why you’re not going to bore me with them either. Right, Johnny?
JOB: Johnny, if I’m going to get to the next level – I’m talking Tuesday Night Fights, in case you didn’t know, and title shots, and all that jazz – then I’m going to have to be the best of the bunch, the cream of the crop, the number one rookie. I’m going to have to take this undefeated streak and run with it all the way to the top. But not only that, I’m going to prove to everybody, once and for all, that it is I who am the future of this business. Winchell said we’re the best? Me and you? Honours even, points shared?
JOB: I don’t (BLEEP)ing think so.
[Jay is slipping, slowly, into the same state we’ve seen him work himself into time and again already.]
JOB: Johnny, I don’t share (BLEEP). I take for myself and only myself. I do whatever has to be done, whatever it takes. I don’t want a slice of the god damn pie, I want the whole (BLEEP)ing thing. And I’ll have it. Believe me, Johnny, I’ll have it. I’ll gorge myself on it, and you, your friends, your enemies, the whole NAPW locker room will sit and watch me do it. I am the most potent threat to the upper most echelons of this business that anybody has ever known.
JOB: The. Hottest. Newcomer.
JOB: When your name’s crossed off my list, that won’t just be conjecture, that will be FACT. That’s all I deal with, Johnny – facts. Here’s another: I need to win. Every single (BLEEP)ing match. I need to win them. I’m an ambitious man, Johnny. I don’t like second place. I don’t like to sit in somebody else’s shadow. I don’t like to watch somebody do what I know full well I could do better. That’s why I don’t respect any of the current NAPW title holders. “Champions”. That’s why I need to get past you, get to them. That’s why, when I’m done with you, I’ll continue to tear through wrestler after wrestler. Every last, worthless one of them. Everybody on this list.
JOB: Johnny... be aware...
JOB: It’s your turn.
[Zoom on the name, on the list, and fade.]