Post by Jay O'Brien on Mar 11, 2007 12:40:36 GMT -5
[Start.]
“Jay Jay and Stoney? Is that meant to be cute?”
[Jay O’Brien. And you better believe he’s got things to say. Matters to address. I guess we’re starting with Lyndsey Valentine.]
JOB: Is that meant to be (mock surprise) girly? Because Lyndsey, dear, if you’re going to give me an earful about me acknowledging your sex, then god damn, girl --- oh, whoa, whoa, whoa!!! --- I’m sorry, god damn, generically gendered opponent...
[Wink.]
JOB: You ain’t doing a very good job of deflecting attention away from it yourself. That little rant you gave? I could smell the estrogen a mile away. But hey, ditsy (BLEEP)ing daisy here, the self-titled “Lovely” Lyndsey Valentine, she’s not HERE to draw attention to the female cause, OH HELL NO. In fact, boys and girls, she’d very much prefer it if you DIDN’T make a big deal out of it. Jay O’Brien, he made a mistake – he DARED to tell Krenshov that he got eliminated by a woman.
JOB: Well tell me, Lyndsey... did that happen, or didn’t it? You dumped me out of the battle royal – me, Jay O’Brien, the only undefeated superstar in New Alberta --- oh wait, wrong again! --- North American Pro Wrestling – and you think for some reason that suddenly it shouldn’t be a big deal to me? Because you’re a woman? Let me tell you something, Lyndsey – I don’t like losing full stop. I don’t like getting pinned, I hate getting submitted, and you gotta know, I can’t STAND being embarrassed. You, Lyndsey, embarrassed me.
[Jay shrugs.]
JOB: But you see, unlike you so readily assume, unlike you so readily take up the cross of the dear old martyr, it wasn’t the fact that you had a great rack and a nice figure that embarrassed me, oh no. You see, I took my eye off the ball, and the next thing I know, I’m flat on my ass outside the ring, any chance of me helping the Untouchables and my partner Krenshov to a tag title shot gone clean out the window. Do you know how I felt after that, Lyndsey? I’ll tell you: I felt (BLEEP)ing. Stupid. That’s right, Lynds – you don’t mind me calling you that, right? After all, Jay Jay’s just such a god damn charming little moniker, ain’t it? – I felt (BLEEP)ING. STUPID. And you know the worst thing?
[Pause.]
JOB: No, it’s got absolutely nothing to do with you Lyndsey... it wasn’t that you were a woman... the worst thing was, I’d let my stablemates down. Now here’s a question for you: do you know what stable I’m in? The answer? I’m in the UN-FREAKIN’-TOUCHABLES. And do you know why we’re called the Untouchables, huh? It’s because we are untouchable! We are the greatest wrestlers in this promotion – we are the cream of the crop. We rose to the surface, and god damn it, we separated ourselves from the rest of the schmoes around here by, quite simply, being one HELL of a lot better than them.
JOB: And now you see the problem.
[Jay’s eyes narrow.]
JOB: The Untouchables are the best. And how did they become the best? By being bastards. By looking upon failure as the god damn, mother (BLEEP)ing worst thing in the entire world, and swearing never – NEVER – to succumb to it. By any. Means. Necessary.
JOB: You think I went “running to Krenshov” because I was eliminated by a girl? Ha. You don’t know shit, Lynds. I couldn’t give a good god damn if I was eliminated by a girl, or a guy, or a giant, or hell, I couldn’t even care less if I got dumped out by a midget, a female midget, or even a bed-ridden paralytic. It doesn’t make a difference to me. Failure is failure, and that is something that is not tolerated. Not by Krenshov, not by Chris Casino, and most importantly of all, not by me[/b].
JOB: Lyndsey Valentine – get the HELL over yourself. I apologized to Krenshov because, under the circumstances, it was the only thing I could do. And I am grateful to him, and I am grateful to Eli Potts, that they accepted my apology. And you know what else? I’m grateful that I’m getting this second shot. This chance at redemption. Sadly for you, Lynds, this is where you come in.
[Smirk. Oh, you better believe it.]
JOB: Now take your “I don’t wanna be no girl power icon” bullshit, and shove it up that pretty little ass of yours, because I, Jay O’Brien, am on the god… damn… warpath.
[Jay lets out a cocky little chuckle.]
JOB: Lyndsey, I hope that’s plain enough for you. You? Your gender? Doesn’t mean a damn thing. It ain’t about what you wear, it ain’t about what you say. It’s not even about what you do, because frankly, you’ve already done it. Your foot? It’s ankle deep in the shit. Wrong place, wrong time? Well that was me, last week. That won’t happen again. In fact, it’s roles reversed now, because this week, it’s gonna be you…
JOB: … and your three little partners. You got it – wrong place. Wrong damn time.
[See that? SEGUE!! SEGUE!!]
JOB: Matthew Kurtis, Prince Darko, and Thomas Young. Three of NAPW’s most mediocre, and they don’t even KNOW what they’re getting into. Oh, but they’ve got a lot to say about it, oh yeah. I mean, here’s four guys – no offence, Lynds – who HONESTLY think they’ve got a shot at winning this thing. I mean, let’s just lay things out nice and clearly here…
JOB: Krenshov. The dominant, destructive Colossus. Jay O’Brien, still undefeated. Still to be pinned or submitted, or hell, even DQ’ed or counted out. Then we’ve got the NAPW Tag Team Champions, Stone and Clint Zellor, the Midnight Cowboys. Their claim to fame? Oh, they only ended the tag career of a team largely considered the best of all time – the New and Improved D-X, that’s all. You know, no big deal.
JOB: Matty Kurtis, you like to point all this out yourself, of course. You like to wax idiotic about how we’re not that big a deal, how nothing we have done has impressed you. Least of I’ll what I’ve accomplished. Hey, like you say, I’m not that big a deal – after all, I am, to the Untouchables, the ugly kid in the classroom, right? You know, the guy that makes them look so much better? Riiiiiiight... Yeah, you could talk all day if you wanted to about how my winning streak means nothing, and how I… ugh… lost. But kid, it doesn't wash. It doesn't wash, because, well, hell, son, OPEN YOUR BLOODY EYES. I mean, seriously, Kurtis, have you ever seen me get pinned? No? Oh wait, right, right, you’re talking about the triple threat, huh? You know, where Jeff James – I think Darko and Tommy boy know of him – get pinned by the very sapling I beat at our most recent PPV, Johnny Rotten. Well, you see, that’s the problem with one fall to a finish matches with multiple participants, and this ain't an excuse because there's nothing TO excuse, it's just plain and simple FACT – in these matches, somebody always wins, somebody always loses, and somebody ALWAYS walks away unaffected. Well this time, that was me, chump.
JOB: I haven’t lost, unlike you, the guy who seems to have one hell of a knack for picking up undeserved title shots and pissing them against the wall. Let’s see, first you couldn’t wrest the TV title from Jeff James... then you failed to take the Pure Honor Title from my main man Chris Casino... and god knows you couldn’t get anywhere NEAR to the Heavyweight Title... so with your great "singles career" spiralling down the drain, you’re suddenly interested in the tag division... and you’ve got your little harlot along to help you out. Well, hey, NEWSFLASH, Matty --- you ain’t gonna win these belts EITHER. Sooner or later, and when we get the shot we so deserve, they're OURS. Sorry Cowboys, but deal with it.
JOB: Matty, unlike you, I don’t suck. I don’t lose. And when I get my first title shot – which, by the way, WILL be for the Tag Team Titles... I intend to succeed at the first attempt. Just like I did in my first match. Just like I did in my first PPV. And just like I will do in my first 8 man tag. But hey, feel free to belittle everything that I’ve done in NAPW – because you've got SOOO much room to talk... Mr. Perennial Midcarder... Mr. I Couldn’t Win a Belt if My Life Depended On It... Matty --- kiss my ass.
[Smirk.]
JOB: But hey, we've not spoken about his OTHER partners, have we? Thomas Young, Prince Darko... you can kiss my ass too. I mean, shit, I wouldn’t be surprised if ol’ Lynds over there wanted to kick YOUR asses instead of ours. Yeah, Darko, I got “kicked around by a girl”, as you put. When I wasn’t watching, and my back was turned, yeah. I got eliminated, I got embarrassed. But seriously, how the HELL does that help you? Because now I come into this match more focused than ever? Because now, I can’t possibly let my team lose? Because now, I HAVE to kick your asses? Oh yeah, Darko, keep rubbing it in, you dumb son of a bitch, because it’s all fuel to the fire. And keep rubbing in Lyndsey’s face, too, for that matter. A girl. See, I don’t know whether you caught her promo or not, and I don’t know whether you were paying attention earlier when I addressed the situation, but... she doesn’t like being thought of as just a girl. In fact, SHE’S ANGRY!! RAAAAAAAH!!! She’s no freedom fighter. She’s a wrestler. Who can beat up columnists.
[Jay rolls his eyes.]
JOB: But you know, it doesn’t matter to me how much cohesion there is in your ranks. You can snipe at each other all you want, but that’ll just make it all the more easy for us. Divide and conquer. A strategy that was worked for many a millennia, and still does. Seriously, though, keep talking. Keep boring the masses, keep babbling on inanely. Keep belittling each other, and keep calling me O’Bitch - because juvenile insults are just sooooooo hurtful. Keep doing as Matty boy does, Tommy, and talk about how I’ve done nothing of worth. It doesn’t make a difference, and you know why?
JOB: And I want you all to listen up here, because this affects every single last mother (BLEEP)ing one of you... And the rest of NAPW, while I’m at... because I am SICK and TIRED of being told I haven’t achieved a thing... the bottom line? When we, and when I, kick your sorry carcasses all around the arena? The next person in line will say “oh, wow, you won an 8 man against four chumps, big deal”, because the fact is, you, just like my past opponents, are WORTHLESS. It’s not a slur on my name for you to say I haven’t done anything to impress you – it’s a slur against my OPPONENTS. But that’s something you morons, with your limited intellectual capacities, can’t seem to drill into your thick heads, isn’t it? The fact that saying “beating Johnny Rotten means nothing”, is really slandering Johnny Rotten’s name. Not mine. And the fact that saying “beating KKP, Chamberlain and Saffire means nothing”, is really just knocking the three of those guys. Not me. And at the same time, you’re simply not realizing that when we win this match, and when I add another notch to my streak, the next guy in line will say the same damn thing about you: he’ll see that you four, every last one of you, suck. He’ll say that beating you guys means nothing, nadda, zilch, zip, (BLEEP) all. And you know what? He’d be right.
[Smirk.]
JOB: You don’t mean anything. You’re just four more nobodies I have to beat. Four more nobodies they’ve lined up for me to steamroll right over. And that’s fine. And it’ll still be fine when it’s pointed out next week by the next idiot in line about him, and then the next guy, and the next, and the next...
JOB: The point is... you guys... just like everybody else I’ve faced... don’t matter. You are nothing, you are nobodies. You are failures. And the best thing about this “revelation”? You all, the four of you, just died by your sword. And all I had to do was turn it round against you. It couldn’t have been easier.
JOB: Folks. End game has been reached.
[Smirk.]
[Fade.]
“Jay Jay and Stoney? Is that meant to be cute?”
[Jay O’Brien. And you better believe he’s got things to say. Matters to address. I guess we’re starting with Lyndsey Valentine.]
JOB: Is that meant to be (mock surprise) girly? Because Lyndsey, dear, if you’re going to give me an earful about me acknowledging your sex, then god damn, girl --- oh, whoa, whoa, whoa!!! --- I’m sorry, god damn, generically gendered opponent...
[Wink.]
JOB: You ain’t doing a very good job of deflecting attention away from it yourself. That little rant you gave? I could smell the estrogen a mile away. But hey, ditsy (BLEEP)ing daisy here, the self-titled “Lovely” Lyndsey Valentine, she’s not HERE to draw attention to the female cause, OH HELL NO. In fact, boys and girls, she’d very much prefer it if you DIDN’T make a big deal out of it. Jay O’Brien, he made a mistake – he DARED to tell Krenshov that he got eliminated by a woman.
JOB: Well tell me, Lyndsey... did that happen, or didn’t it? You dumped me out of the battle royal – me, Jay O’Brien, the only undefeated superstar in New Alberta --- oh wait, wrong again! --- North American Pro Wrestling – and you think for some reason that suddenly it shouldn’t be a big deal to me? Because you’re a woman? Let me tell you something, Lyndsey – I don’t like losing full stop. I don’t like getting pinned, I hate getting submitted, and you gotta know, I can’t STAND being embarrassed. You, Lyndsey, embarrassed me.
[Jay shrugs.]
JOB: But you see, unlike you so readily assume, unlike you so readily take up the cross of the dear old martyr, it wasn’t the fact that you had a great rack and a nice figure that embarrassed me, oh no. You see, I took my eye off the ball, and the next thing I know, I’m flat on my ass outside the ring, any chance of me helping the Untouchables and my partner Krenshov to a tag title shot gone clean out the window. Do you know how I felt after that, Lyndsey? I’ll tell you: I felt (BLEEP)ing. Stupid. That’s right, Lynds – you don’t mind me calling you that, right? After all, Jay Jay’s just such a god damn charming little moniker, ain’t it? – I felt (BLEEP)ING. STUPID. And you know the worst thing?
[Pause.]
JOB: No, it’s got absolutely nothing to do with you Lyndsey... it wasn’t that you were a woman... the worst thing was, I’d let my stablemates down. Now here’s a question for you: do you know what stable I’m in? The answer? I’m in the UN-FREAKIN’-TOUCHABLES. And do you know why we’re called the Untouchables, huh? It’s because we are untouchable! We are the greatest wrestlers in this promotion – we are the cream of the crop. We rose to the surface, and god damn it, we separated ourselves from the rest of the schmoes around here by, quite simply, being one HELL of a lot better than them.
JOB: And now you see the problem.
[Jay’s eyes narrow.]
JOB: The Untouchables are the best. And how did they become the best? By being bastards. By looking upon failure as the god damn, mother (BLEEP)ing worst thing in the entire world, and swearing never – NEVER – to succumb to it. By any. Means. Necessary.
JOB: You think I went “running to Krenshov” because I was eliminated by a girl? Ha. You don’t know shit, Lynds. I couldn’t give a good god damn if I was eliminated by a girl, or a guy, or a giant, or hell, I couldn’t even care less if I got dumped out by a midget, a female midget, or even a bed-ridden paralytic. It doesn’t make a difference to me. Failure is failure, and that is something that is not tolerated. Not by Krenshov, not by Chris Casino, and most importantly of all, not by me[/b].
JOB: Lyndsey Valentine – get the HELL over yourself. I apologized to Krenshov because, under the circumstances, it was the only thing I could do. And I am grateful to him, and I am grateful to Eli Potts, that they accepted my apology. And you know what else? I’m grateful that I’m getting this second shot. This chance at redemption. Sadly for you, Lynds, this is where you come in.
[Smirk. Oh, you better believe it.]
JOB: Now take your “I don’t wanna be no girl power icon” bullshit, and shove it up that pretty little ass of yours, because I, Jay O’Brien, am on the god… damn… warpath.
[Jay lets out a cocky little chuckle.]
JOB: Lyndsey, I hope that’s plain enough for you. You? Your gender? Doesn’t mean a damn thing. It ain’t about what you wear, it ain’t about what you say. It’s not even about what you do, because frankly, you’ve already done it. Your foot? It’s ankle deep in the shit. Wrong place, wrong time? Well that was me, last week. That won’t happen again. In fact, it’s roles reversed now, because this week, it’s gonna be you…
JOB: … and your three little partners. You got it – wrong place. Wrong damn time.
[See that? SEGUE!! SEGUE!!]
JOB: Matthew Kurtis, Prince Darko, and Thomas Young. Three of NAPW’s most mediocre, and they don’t even KNOW what they’re getting into. Oh, but they’ve got a lot to say about it, oh yeah. I mean, here’s four guys – no offence, Lynds – who HONESTLY think they’ve got a shot at winning this thing. I mean, let’s just lay things out nice and clearly here…
JOB: Krenshov. The dominant, destructive Colossus. Jay O’Brien, still undefeated. Still to be pinned or submitted, or hell, even DQ’ed or counted out. Then we’ve got the NAPW Tag Team Champions, Stone and Clint Zellor, the Midnight Cowboys. Their claim to fame? Oh, they only ended the tag career of a team largely considered the best of all time – the New and Improved D-X, that’s all. You know, no big deal.
JOB: Matty Kurtis, you like to point all this out yourself, of course. You like to wax idiotic about how we’re not that big a deal, how nothing we have done has impressed you. Least of I’ll what I’ve accomplished. Hey, like you say, I’m not that big a deal – after all, I am, to the Untouchables, the ugly kid in the classroom, right? You know, the guy that makes them look so much better? Riiiiiiight... Yeah, you could talk all day if you wanted to about how my winning streak means nothing, and how I… ugh… lost. But kid, it doesn't wash. It doesn't wash, because, well, hell, son, OPEN YOUR BLOODY EYES. I mean, seriously, Kurtis, have you ever seen me get pinned? No? Oh wait, right, right, you’re talking about the triple threat, huh? You know, where Jeff James – I think Darko and Tommy boy know of him – get pinned by the very sapling I beat at our most recent PPV, Johnny Rotten. Well, you see, that’s the problem with one fall to a finish matches with multiple participants, and this ain't an excuse because there's nothing TO excuse, it's just plain and simple FACT – in these matches, somebody always wins, somebody always loses, and somebody ALWAYS walks away unaffected. Well this time, that was me, chump.
JOB: I haven’t lost, unlike you, the guy who seems to have one hell of a knack for picking up undeserved title shots and pissing them against the wall. Let’s see, first you couldn’t wrest the TV title from Jeff James... then you failed to take the Pure Honor Title from my main man Chris Casino... and god knows you couldn’t get anywhere NEAR to the Heavyweight Title... so with your great "singles career" spiralling down the drain, you’re suddenly interested in the tag division... and you’ve got your little harlot along to help you out. Well, hey, NEWSFLASH, Matty --- you ain’t gonna win these belts EITHER. Sooner or later, and when we get the shot we so deserve, they're OURS. Sorry Cowboys, but deal with it.
JOB: Matty, unlike you, I don’t suck. I don’t lose. And when I get my first title shot – which, by the way, WILL be for the Tag Team Titles... I intend to succeed at the first attempt. Just like I did in my first match. Just like I did in my first PPV. And just like I will do in my first 8 man tag. But hey, feel free to belittle everything that I’ve done in NAPW – because you've got SOOO much room to talk... Mr. Perennial Midcarder... Mr. I Couldn’t Win a Belt if My Life Depended On It... Matty --- kiss my ass.
[Smirk.]
JOB: But hey, we've not spoken about his OTHER partners, have we? Thomas Young, Prince Darko... you can kiss my ass too. I mean, shit, I wouldn’t be surprised if ol’ Lynds over there wanted to kick YOUR asses instead of ours. Yeah, Darko, I got “kicked around by a girl”, as you put. When I wasn’t watching, and my back was turned, yeah. I got eliminated, I got embarrassed. But seriously, how the HELL does that help you? Because now I come into this match more focused than ever? Because now, I can’t possibly let my team lose? Because now, I HAVE to kick your asses? Oh yeah, Darko, keep rubbing it in, you dumb son of a bitch, because it’s all fuel to the fire. And keep rubbing in Lyndsey’s face, too, for that matter. A girl. See, I don’t know whether you caught her promo or not, and I don’t know whether you were paying attention earlier when I addressed the situation, but... she doesn’t like being thought of as just a girl. In fact, SHE’S ANGRY!! RAAAAAAAH!!! She’s no freedom fighter. She’s a wrestler. Who can beat up columnists.
[Jay rolls his eyes.]
JOB: But you know, it doesn’t matter to me how much cohesion there is in your ranks. You can snipe at each other all you want, but that’ll just make it all the more easy for us. Divide and conquer. A strategy that was worked for many a millennia, and still does. Seriously, though, keep talking. Keep boring the masses, keep babbling on inanely. Keep belittling each other, and keep calling me O’Bitch - because juvenile insults are just sooooooo hurtful. Keep doing as Matty boy does, Tommy, and talk about how I’ve done nothing of worth. It doesn’t make a difference, and you know why?
JOB: And I want you all to listen up here, because this affects every single last mother (BLEEP)ing one of you... And the rest of NAPW, while I’m at... because I am SICK and TIRED of being told I haven’t achieved a thing... the bottom line? When we, and when I, kick your sorry carcasses all around the arena? The next person in line will say “oh, wow, you won an 8 man against four chumps, big deal”, because the fact is, you, just like my past opponents, are WORTHLESS. It’s not a slur on my name for you to say I haven’t done anything to impress you – it’s a slur against my OPPONENTS. But that’s something you morons, with your limited intellectual capacities, can’t seem to drill into your thick heads, isn’t it? The fact that saying “beating Johnny Rotten means nothing”, is really slandering Johnny Rotten’s name. Not mine. And the fact that saying “beating KKP, Chamberlain and Saffire means nothing”, is really just knocking the three of those guys. Not me. And at the same time, you’re simply not realizing that when we win this match, and when I add another notch to my streak, the next guy in line will say the same damn thing about you: he’ll see that you four, every last one of you, suck. He’ll say that beating you guys means nothing, nadda, zilch, zip, (BLEEP) all. And you know what? He’d be right.
[Smirk.]
JOB: You don’t mean anything. You’re just four more nobodies I have to beat. Four more nobodies they’ve lined up for me to steamroll right over. And that’s fine. And it’ll still be fine when it’s pointed out next week by the next idiot in line about him, and then the next guy, and the next, and the next...
JOB: The point is... you guys... just like everybody else I’ve faced... don’t matter. You are nothing, you are nobodies. You are failures. And the best thing about this “revelation”? You all, the four of you, just died by your sword. And all I had to do was turn it round against you. It couldn’t have been easier.
JOB: Folks. End game has been reached.
[Smirk.]
[Fade.]