Post by Zevon on Jun 22, 2007 22:43:39 GMT -6
(Backstage at the Metropol in Pittsburgh on a steel folding chair sits the POW Eastern Heavyweight Champion on a Saturday evening, sipping a cool refreshing Cherry Pepsi. JR Zevon is clad in full white ring gear with the Eastern Heavyweight Championship around his waist, even though he hasn't competed in days and isn't scheduled to on the Road to Red, White, and Bruised. Stephie Campbell approaches and is met with a polite grin from the resting champ. He motions for Stephie to sit in an empty chair on his left.)
Zevon: Stephie, I assume you are here to perform some journalism. Please do sit and commence, the niceties are implied.
(Stephie rolls her eyes as she gracefully seats herself for maximum interviewage.)
Stephie: You are serving as special guest referee for tomorrow's number one contenders match between Macros and John Anthony, will you call the match down the middle.
Zevon: You too have heard the words of the undead.
(Stephie gives a confused look to the champ. Zevon continues without giving Stephie the opportunity to properly respond.)
Zevon: I was quite glad when I was named the referee for the upcoming brouhaha between Macros and Anthony, seeing as previous matches involving a certain Mr. Cutter Man and a certain Eastern Heavyweight Champion have proved POW's hired hands incompetent. Unfortunately, I will be unable to faithfully uphold the rules.
Stephie: As I suspected, you are not going to call the match down the line.
Zevon: That is correct, Stephie.
Stephie: With two potential contenders for your Eastern Heavyweight Championship in the ring with you, isn't that a little dangerous?
Zevon: Whoa there Miss Campbell, you are making a fatal mistake.
(Stephie gives another look of bemusement, more so to play along than anything else.)
Zevon: I see you are in a state befuddlement. I shall explain, for your benefit, as you are such a visually appealing person. I was planning all week to call a strict, fair kerfuffle; however, it has come to my attention that the match is off.
(Stephie falls into the realm of actual slight confusion, as she would have heard of such a big news item and probably broken it.)
Stephie: Where did you get that from?
Zevon: I hate to be the bearer of bad news Miss Campbell, but Macros is dead.
Stephie: Macros dead?
Zevon: Would a kind man such as the Eastern Heavyweight Champion shit you?
Stephie: Well...yes.
Zevon: BLASPHEMY!
Stephie: Oh come on, last week you were out here telling me John Anthony was dead.
Zevon: And that was true.
Stephie: Then how do you explain his appearance on last week's show? And his recent interview?
Zevon: Open your eyes Miss Campbell! John Anthony now exists on this earth among the ranks of the undead!
(Stephie was prepared for Zevon's eccentric point of view, but not quite this.)
Stephie: The undead?
Zevon: Vampires. Zombies. John Anthonys.
Stephie: There are no such things...except John Anthony, he is quite real and quite alive.
Zevon: Have you forgotten my dear friend Nightkiller?
Stephie: He's just a lunatic immersed in the Gothic fad.
Zevon: What about that Pliskin chap? Tell me he doesn't look like a sodding vampire.
Stephie: He is a little creepy, but definitely not a vampire.
Zevon: You better watch yourself. They walk among us and do very much enjoy fresh young English girls.
(Stephie is slightly defended by Zevon's remark; however, she has long dealt with Enrique and Buddy Love and the like and is not taken off her game.)
Stephie: So, Macros is dead and John Anthony is a vampire.
Zevon: Welcome to the land of reason Miss Campbell.
Stephie: So, John Anthony is a lock to be your opponent for your first ever title defense. In the past you have avoided competition against John Anthony...
Zevon: BLASPHEMY!
Stephie: The footage shows otherwise.
Zevon: Indeed it does.
Stephie: What?
Zevon: Wha?
Stephie: Did you finally just admit to avoiding John Anthony?
Zevon: No.
Stephie: I bet the tape shows otherwise.
(Zevon and Stephie exchange cool looks of awkwardness.)
Stephie: You are afraid of John Anthony.
Zevon: Not anymore.
Stephie: Aha! "Anymore."
Zevon: Anymore what?
Stephie: Are we playing this game again?
Zevon: Indeed we are.
(Stephie takes a moment to cool her jets. Zevon takes a long sip of cold refreshing Cherry Pepsi.)
Stephie: Are you already preparing for the big title defense?
Zevon: I have been prepared for such a siltation for many moons.
Stephie: So you have been anticipating this match for some time?
Zevon: There you go again.
Stephie: What?
Zevon: Putting words in my mouth.
Stephie: So you haven't been anticipating a title defense versus John Anthony but are already well prepared for the match. Are you THAT confident in your wrestling abilities?
Zevon: There you go again...
(Stephie gives a somewhat angry glare.)
Zevon: I am THAT confident in my SLAYING abilities.
Stephie: Slaying?
Zevon: Of course, we have been studying the masters for many years.
Stephie: The masters?
Zevon: Buffy, Angel, Giles...
(Zevon is overcome by controlled lust as the word comes to his mouth.)
Zevon: Fred.
(Stephie sits and looks. She says nothing, as there is nothing right to say to this mumbling idiot.)
Zevon: I have stated many times that you are quite a visually appealing being Miss Campbell... but Fred...
(The camera pans a few inches to the right to reveal a poster of Ron Simmons.)
Zevon: Damn! Even Mr. Kitters has a crush on Fred.
(Stephie interrupts Zevon's bliss. He is not pleased.)
Stephie: Give me a break! Macros is dead. John Anthony is UNdead! And you've been training by watching sci-fi television shows with your cat?
Zevon: Ahem!
Stephie: Alright, your noble companion.
Zevon: Better.
Stephie: What exactly is in that cup of yours?
Zevon: Cold refreshing Cherry Pepsi.
(Stephie stands up and is poised to leave.)
Stephie: Ughh, where's Lee Cash when you need him?
(Stephie storms off as Zevon continues sipping his beverage, a smug grin across his face.)
Zevon: Stephie, I assume you are here to perform some journalism. Please do sit and commence, the niceties are implied.
(Stephie rolls her eyes as she gracefully seats herself for maximum interviewage.)
Stephie: You are serving as special guest referee for tomorrow's number one contenders match between Macros and John Anthony, will you call the match down the middle.
Zevon: You too have heard the words of the undead.
(Stephie gives a confused look to the champ. Zevon continues without giving Stephie the opportunity to properly respond.)
Zevon: I was quite glad when I was named the referee for the upcoming brouhaha between Macros and Anthony, seeing as previous matches involving a certain Mr. Cutter Man and a certain Eastern Heavyweight Champion have proved POW's hired hands incompetent. Unfortunately, I will be unable to faithfully uphold the rules.
Stephie: As I suspected, you are not going to call the match down the line.
Zevon: That is correct, Stephie.
Stephie: With two potential contenders for your Eastern Heavyweight Championship in the ring with you, isn't that a little dangerous?
Zevon: Whoa there Miss Campbell, you are making a fatal mistake.
(Stephie gives another look of bemusement, more so to play along than anything else.)
Zevon: I see you are in a state befuddlement. I shall explain, for your benefit, as you are such a visually appealing person. I was planning all week to call a strict, fair kerfuffle; however, it has come to my attention that the match is off.
(Stephie falls into the realm of actual slight confusion, as she would have heard of such a big news item and probably broken it.)
Stephie: Where did you get that from?
Zevon: I hate to be the bearer of bad news Miss Campbell, but Macros is dead.
Stephie: Macros dead?
Zevon: Would a kind man such as the Eastern Heavyweight Champion shit you?
Stephie: Well...yes.
Zevon: BLASPHEMY!
Stephie: Oh come on, last week you were out here telling me John Anthony was dead.
Zevon: And that was true.
Stephie: Then how do you explain his appearance on last week's show? And his recent interview?
Zevon: Open your eyes Miss Campbell! John Anthony now exists on this earth among the ranks of the undead!
(Stephie was prepared for Zevon's eccentric point of view, but not quite this.)
Stephie: The undead?
Zevon: Vampires. Zombies. John Anthonys.
Stephie: There are no such things...except John Anthony, he is quite real and quite alive.
Zevon: Have you forgotten my dear friend Nightkiller?
Stephie: He's just a lunatic immersed in the Gothic fad.
Zevon: What about that Pliskin chap? Tell me he doesn't look like a sodding vampire.
Stephie: He is a little creepy, but definitely not a vampire.
Zevon: You better watch yourself. They walk among us and do very much enjoy fresh young English girls.
(Stephie is slightly defended by Zevon's remark; however, she has long dealt with Enrique and Buddy Love and the like and is not taken off her game.)
Stephie: So, Macros is dead and John Anthony is a vampire.
Zevon: Welcome to the land of reason Miss Campbell.
Stephie: So, John Anthony is a lock to be your opponent for your first ever title defense. In the past you have avoided competition against John Anthony...
Zevon: BLASPHEMY!
Stephie: The footage shows otherwise.
Zevon: Indeed it does.
Stephie: What?
Zevon: Wha?
Stephie: Did you finally just admit to avoiding John Anthony?
Zevon: No.
Stephie: I bet the tape shows otherwise.
(Zevon and Stephie exchange cool looks of awkwardness.)
Stephie: You are afraid of John Anthony.
Zevon: Not anymore.
Stephie: Aha! "Anymore."
Zevon: Anymore what?
Stephie: Are we playing this game again?
Zevon: Indeed we are.
(Stephie takes a moment to cool her jets. Zevon takes a long sip of cold refreshing Cherry Pepsi.)
Stephie: Are you already preparing for the big title defense?
Zevon: I have been prepared for such a siltation for many moons.
Stephie: So you have been anticipating this match for some time?
Zevon: There you go again.
Stephie: What?
Zevon: Putting words in my mouth.
Stephie: So you haven't been anticipating a title defense versus John Anthony but are already well prepared for the match. Are you THAT confident in your wrestling abilities?
Zevon: There you go again...
(Stephie gives a somewhat angry glare.)
Zevon: I am THAT confident in my SLAYING abilities.
Stephie: Slaying?
Zevon: Of course, we have been studying the masters for many years.
Stephie: The masters?
Zevon: Buffy, Angel, Giles...
(Zevon is overcome by controlled lust as the word comes to his mouth.)
Zevon: Fred.
(Stephie sits and looks. She says nothing, as there is nothing right to say to this mumbling idiot.)
Zevon: I have stated many times that you are quite a visually appealing being Miss Campbell... but Fred...
(The camera pans a few inches to the right to reveal a poster of Ron Simmons.)
Zevon: Damn! Even Mr. Kitters has a crush on Fred.
(Stephie interrupts Zevon's bliss. He is not pleased.)
Stephie: Give me a break! Macros is dead. John Anthony is UNdead! And you've been training by watching sci-fi television shows with your cat?
Zevon: Ahem!
Stephie: Alright, your noble companion.
Zevon: Better.
Stephie: What exactly is in that cup of yours?
Zevon: Cold refreshing Cherry Pepsi.
(Stephie stands up and is poised to leave.)
Stephie: Ughh, where's Lee Cash when you need him?
(Stephie storms off as Zevon continues sipping his beverage, a smug grin across his face.)
