Stone Zellor vs Jay O'Brien

[Ryan Ro [NAPW]]

"Dynamite" Stone Zellor vs Jay O'Brien

Stone Zellor had the Provincial Title won at the NAPW/REBEL Supershow on 5/15, if not for the unexpected return of Jay O'Brien. Over the spring Jay O'Brien and Stone Zellor have had their battles in the tag team arena, but on May 22nd they will meet for the first time in singles competition! You can bet the big Z will be itching for revenge against the snotty Englishman.

[Stone Zellor]

[The scene opens in Boise, Idaho where Stone Zellor has recently taken part in an independent show for some rinky-dink promotion. But they pay, so y'know. Sure, he lost to make one of their home-grown stars, Dirk Gregory look good. But the exact details of the trip aren't important. The point is, somehow, Stone Zellor and Bubbles are in the middle of nowhere. Staying in the Comfort Inn, just because they heard good things. They were lies - but they sounded good]

[As it is, the two of them are stuck in this mint cream coloured twin bed room, actually talking about Jay O'Brien. Nobody has done that for months - but, alas, a miracle has occurred. Well, they're talking about Jay and wrestling in general. Stone, with his unshaven goatee, black Adidas zip top and a pair of jeans. Bubbles in an orange sleeveless top and some flares]

Stone:
This ain't been my week - I'm lost for words. An' not just big words, all words!

Bubbles:
Does that mean I can finally say more than one sentence before you inter--

Stone:
I mean, damn. First, I had Lloyd Rees down on the mat. Half a second away from the Provincial title and that limey bastard, Jay O'Brien shows up! Then I have to come to Idaho for that match?

[Take a moment]

Stone:
I love America an' all, but I'm lookin' forward to going back to Canada.

Bubbles:
You do realise you've been talking about this for three hours, right? For someone who's lost for words - you're rambling, man.

Stone:
Yeah, but it ain't exactly poetic. Callin' Jay O'Brien a limey bastard won't get me nowhere, B. Remindin' him that nobody, an' I mean nobody missed him when he was injured ... That NAPW boomed in his absence ... That won't get me nowhere, either. My words don't hit home - or they get misunderstood. I hate it when that happens, y'know.

[Pause]

Bubbles:
What?

Stone:
I hate it when I say somethin', and people twist it to make it look like I said somethin' else.

Bubbles:
Oh ... You know, there's something you can do.

Stone:
I ain't no voice classes.

Bubbles:
No, no, no. A manager!

Stone:
I ain't callin' Pops. The back stabbin' old man can stay with Clint wherever the hell they are.

[Bubbles gets up from her bed to grab a can of pop from Stone's duffel bag. Hint; it's underneath the MD 20/20. No, not that bottle. Nor that one. Yeah, that's the one. Dr. Pepper? Seriously?]

Bubbles:
Pop?

Stone:
Ooh, yeah, B.

[So she hands the Dr. Pepper to Stone whilst grabbing the Diet Coke for herself]

Bubbles:
I'm serious though, Stone, man. You get a manager and you won't have to talk as much anymore. Heck, you get a manager who can actually say more then three words without panting - you've got it made.

Stone:
I ain't sure.

Bubbles:
We could hold auditions.

Stone:
Maybe, make 'em sing and dance?

[Bubbles almost chokes on her soda pop, spitting some of it out over Stone]

Bubbles:
Sorry!

[Stone wipes his face]

Bubbles:
Omigod, I'm sorry, Stone.

Stone:
No probs, B.

Bubbles:
Are you sure?

Stone:
Yeah...

Bubbles:
Good. No! We're not making them sing and dance. They're only there to be your 'mouth piece' or whatever you want to call it. If you can come up with an interesting insult for someone like Jay O'Brien - who bless him, he tries, but he's had his ass handed to him so many times this year that The Foundation pity him!

[Pause]

Stone:
You know, they're REBEL Pro Tag Champs.

Bubbles:
Whatever, Stone. The point is - you need help! I'll get the word out, set up an audition for Saturday and we can pick the best one.

Stone:
We?

Bubbles:
So you don't end up with an airhead who's sole attribute is an inability to fully dress herself in the morning.

Stone:
What if I want that?

Bubbles:
Then find one who can form a coherent sentence.

[Pause, again]

Stone:
Damn!

Bubbles:
Exactly.

Stone:
Then we ain't havin' no overly handsome men. I'm the pretty one here, that ain't changin'!

Bubbles:
Fine...

Stone:
Cool. Now, can I please get some of that Mad Dog - this place is drivin' me crazy!?

[And with that, this scene comes to an end with the traditional fade to black]

[Stone Zellor]

rush 1 (rŭsh)
v. rushed, rush·ing, rush·es

v. intr.

1. To move or act swiftly; hurry.
2. To make a sudden or swift attack or charge.
3. To flow or surge rapidly, often with noise: Tons of water rushed over the falls.


[Or, in the case of Stone Zellor - this! Sitting in a back room of Suzy Cue's with Bubbles by his side. Both of them are seated in cheap, plastic chairs in front of a well-worn (to say the least) maple effect table. And lets face it, in this situation one has the right to feel a wee bit annoyed. So it's of little surprise that Stone is, in fact, annoyed]

[Not only by the setting. Not only by the fact that his favourite tee shirt got ruined in the wash last night. You know, that goldenrod 'Gym Class Heroes' one they brought out to commemorate their latest album - well, now it's pink. Anyway, the main factor contributing to Stone's unpleasant demeanour? There are only eight people who have shown up! And only two of those have any experience in the wrestling industry!]

"Damn, man" he said when he saw the list.

"Don't worry about it, Stone" came the reply. "I'm sure the perfect manager's just through that door"

[The pair of them looked towards the white wash door. Nothing]

"I said ... I'm sure the perfect manager is just through that door!" said Bubbles, angrily.

[And, as if by magic, the door swung open. And you wouldn't have guessed, but standing there was one of the most handsome men to ever step foot in Edmonton. Comparisons could be made to Daniel Craig, but then he would only be 'handsome' if that like that squashed look. But he was sharply dressed, in a tuxedo no less. And he waddled towards the table, obviously uncomfortable in his attire]

"No" came the immediate response from Stone.

"Come on, Stone. Give him a chance"

"No"

"Hi, I'm Gabriel" said the man.

[He spoke with a soft voice. So soft that neither Stone nor Bubbles heard him. They only turned around because they saw his lips move, and then came the answer]

"No" said Bubbles.

[And so it continued. Next came the perky, blonde cheerleader type from Houston. And she was one of those with experience in the wrestling industry. Unfortunately she wasn't "what we're looking for" despite Stone's best protests. And her attempts to create a cheer fell flat on their face when she failed to rhyme anything with Stone. Thank God she didn't try and rhyme Zellor. But, she was gone]

[Next came Trevor. An elderly gentlemen with a bushy beard, thick rimmed glasses and bedecked in a cream coloured leisure suit. Inevitably he too was dispatched from the room in a fiery torrent of curse words and unpleasant wishes. Too close to him, I guess. Fortunately, Trevor was soon joined by a British gentleman - who was close to being thrown from the room by Stone Zellor]

"Bloody hell" said the Limey as he re-adjusted his blue silk tie and black suit. "These Yanks just don't appreciate real talent, I've got fifteen years experience in this business."

"Got any change?" asked Trevor

"No" replied the British man.

[Meanwhile, back inside the room, Stone and Bubbles were beginning to worry. They were half way through their applicants - and nothing! Nobody stood out, and quite frankly, they didn't want to associate with any of them. Except Stone and the cheerleader; but that's obvious and not likely to happen]

"Mad Dog?" asked Stone, flatly.

"What flavours have we got?"

"'Peaches & Cream' or 'Red Grape'"

[Pause]

"Grape, please" said Bubbles. "So, what do you think so far?"

"I think I'd be better off talkin' for myself, y'know. I mean, I ain't as bad as these guys"

[Pause]

"Four more to go..." said Bubbles.

[And with the two 'judges' drinking some MD 20/20 - the sign of an imminent good decision if there ever was one - the auditions continued. For some reason a goth kid, about eighteen years of age applied next. Bubbles and Stone had some fun there. Asking him to sing and dance. Asking him for a mock interview against Jay O'Brien, one which mentioned the terms "fiery pits of hell" and "putrid smell of your own viscera" ... Needless to say, he didn't make the cut. Sure, he got angry at the decision, but a swift pimp slap sent the angry goth kid on his way and returned the smile to Stone's face. Finally, this beginning to be fun]

[Two more applicants. The first was a shaggy looking gentleman with long hair and a 'Rolling Stones' tee shirt. There seemed to be a bit of chemistry, but the kid didn't know a lot about wrestling. He claimed to be a fan of "feds like ECW and CZW, oh and FMW" ... Which didn't bode that well. On the plus side he drinks MD 20/20 and only made two crude remarks towards Bubbles]

"Hit me baby one more time!"

[That was the introductory exclamation made by the next contender. Obviously he had heard someone mention auditions - but I won't waste your time with his details]

[Nor will I spend time on "The Mime"]

[And finally, came the old man in the leisure suit, again. And once again he was dispatched in a flood of swearing and threats of pimptastic physical violence]

"Change? Got any change?"

"I got your change!"

[Unfortunately, due to legal reasons and the pending court case, that's as much as you're allowed to see. I'm sure the case won't make it that far - but for now, the scene comes to an end with a traditional fade to black]

[Jay O'Brien]

[Start.]

“Hey Stone.”

[Jay is grinning at us. It’s like we’re back to where we were all those weeks ago when he got shelved. It’s like nothing at all had happened, that there never was a break. It’s just like it was.]

“You know, you surprise me… Scratch that: you disappoint me. I mean, hell, I cost you the Provincial title – as far as the little Zellorites are concerned, anyway – and rather than try and figure out why I just did something like that, you concern yourself with something as trivial as getting a manager.”

[Jay sneers.]

“Well, dude, you’ve got a bigger problem on your hands. Me. You see, we’ve got business to take care of, and that’s not just business stemming from my attack on the Supershow. It goes further back than that. Way further.”

“March 13th 2007, we teamed up, you and I. We also had our tag partners there as well, that big, bad monster KRENSHOV, and your very own brother Clint. We took on two other teams and we beat them. Or to be more specific, I beat them. Just like I beat everybody back then.”

“Hell, we all know about the streak I amassed – I was the greatest singles wrestler there was – or at least nobody proved otherwise. Nobody pinned my shoulders to the mat or made me tap. Nobody had a damn thing on me. And then guess what happened?”

[Jay stamps his foot on the floor three times.]

“You got it – opportunity came a-knocking. And you know what I did? I took the invitation laid down by the greatest faction this business has ever known – The Untouchables – and I accepted it. I joined the three most elite wrestlers in the game. I was their partner, I was one of them. KRENSHOV, the most destructive force in NAPW. Chris Casino, the finest Pure Honor Champion anybody ever saw. And Kurt Castle, the DEVASTATING Provincial Champion for so long.”

“You think in retrospect they chose the wrong guy?”

[Jay shrugs.]

“Hey, my record spoke – and still speaks – for itself. Nobody EVER pinned me or made me submit…”

“… except you.”

[Jay’s eyes narrow, as he becomes that little bit more focused, that little bit more intense.]

“It’s clear to me that I was the fourth Untouchable. I deserved it. And whilst people are only too happy to remind me that I still never got that big win – the one that would put over the top – I did everything anybody ever asked of me, and I did it well.”

“But it’s not like that anymore, is it? Stone... I hold you personally responsible for my fall from grace.”

[Jay pauses.

And then Jay digresses.]

“You know, whilst I was out of action, somebody actually came up to me and said, ‘Hey Jay, I bet you can’t wait to get your hands on Dez Carter, huh?’ And I looked at him, and to be honest, I was kinda stumped. I had no idea what he meant. And then I looked down...”

[Jay raises up his wrist – with the cast – and taps it.]

“And it’s true – Dez Carter is responsible for this. Dez Carter did this to me. But this is just a broken bone, and bones heal. Hell, I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t like to exact revenge on him, but at the same time, my current mindset? Screw Dez. I want you.”

“Stone, when you pinned me, my reputation in NAPW – in Canada – in the world – took one hell of a knock. Suddenly it’s all different. No more streak, no longer unbeaten... no longer unbeatable. You know what I am now? I’m just another midcard attraction, just another guy to watch en route to the MAIN event.”

“Stone, that is something I need to set right. That is something I need to avenge. More than broken bones, more than pain and anguish… more than the death of the Untouchables and the demise of Kenny Krenshov: this is the first hurdle I need to jump before I can even think about looking myself in the mirror, in the eye, and saying once again that JAY O’BRIEN is the best (BLEEP)ING wrestler in the world today...”

[Jay takes a deep breath. Then lets it out. Slowly.]

“You know, nobody expected me to be back so soon. Nobody expected me to come out at the Supershow and make my first appearance back after under two months out of action. Nobody expected anything. And you know what that means, Stone? It means I could’ve done just about anything I wanted. Hell, I could’ve gone out there, in the main event, and I could’ve kicked Ravager’s ass, and I could’ve kicked Simply Beautiful’s ass. I could’ve made my name right there and then, at that show, because unlike all the other wrestlers, I could’ve bypassed security. I could’ve told them that I was still injured, that I couldn’t possibly be a threat. That I couldn’t seriously go out and attack the top two guys. And when I’d done it, and when I’d left the CHAMP laying, and the challenger unconscious, and I’d had my fifteen seconds of fame standing over the two best wrestlers in NAPW today, and when the whole world was talking about that, and nothing else...”

“... I still would’ve wished I’d kicked your ass instead.”

[Jay smirks, but it’s humourless; serious.]

“For now, titles don’t matter to me. Fame, glory, they don’t matter. All that matters is us: and that I beat you in the middle of that ring in Edmonton, Alberta, and the referee raises my hand... THEN, and only THEN will I have done something... THEN and only THEN will I be able to get back on track, get back to doing what I do best – tapping stupid mother(BLEEP)ers like you the hell out.”

“Stone, I’ll give it to you; you’re in my head. You’re in my mind. You’re all I’ve thought about. You’re all I’ve focused on. You’re all I am focused on, and you’re all I can focus on. I can’t look past you – not until I’ve beaten you. I’ve said it before, I’m a proud man. And I know I’m good. And I know I’m better than you. And I just need to prove it once and for all.”

“Stone, now you understand. Now you know why I attacked you. Now you know why it had to be you. And now you know why I’ve got to beat you. The question is: what the hell are you gonna do about it?”

“You gonna continue searching for your manager? You gonna keep thinking about the title you almost had? The one you came so close to holding in your hands? You gonna keep calling me a limey bastard, keep missing the point? Stone, I wasn’t ‘heeling’. Don't distract yourself. I’m not on the warpath for some petty TV revenge. I’m getting myself back on track, and sadly for you, you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time. But don’t think it’s only been that way for a week. It’s been that way for two months.”

“Two... (BLEEP)ing... months... and now it comes to a head.”

[Out.]