Post by Zevon on May 22, 2007 23:27:51 GMT -6
*Scene opens to the door of a three star hotel room in New Hampshire, a definite upgrade from the common motel lodgings of JR Zevon. The door pops open to the sight of the Eastern Heavyweight Championship perched around the waist of the champion. Zevon is caught off-guard by the presence of the camera. Zevon begins to speak in a sullen voice.*
Zevon: Where’s Cash?
*Zevon looks about the hall and sees no sign of Cash. He begins to back into his room but is pulled back out when he catches a glimpse of Stephie Campbell to his left. Zevon’s face lights up with a smile. The pounding of feet can be heard from Zevon’s right. Zevon quickly turns his head to find Lee Cash rushing down the hall. Zevon’s smile turns upside down.*
Stephie: Lee! What are you doing here?
Cash: Interviewing the champ. What are you doing here?
Stephie: Interviewing the champ.
Cash: I called the champ at the meeting.
Stephie: No Lee, I did.
*Zevon starts to back into his room. The door creaks and gains the attention of both interviewers. A dejected Zevon aborts his exit.*
Zevon: What do you want?
Cash and Stephie in unison: A word with the Eastern Heavyweight Champion.
*Cash and Stephie pause and look each other in the eye. Cash blinks first.*
Cash: Jinx!
Stephie: What?
Cash: You can’t speak until I say your name.
*Stephie looks at Zevon for help, but is met by a playful nod of truth.*
Cash: Score!
*Stephie gets red in the face and begins to walk away. Zevon grabs her by the arm and pulls her back.*
Zevon: Wait, he’ll slip up.
Cash: Will not.
Zevon: Will so.
Cash: Will not!
Zevon: Will so.
Cash: I damn well will not!
Zevon: Start asking questions or get to steppin’.
*Cash cools off and regains his false bravado.*
Cash: Last week on the Road to Over in Dover, you stated that you will not be defending the Eastern Heavyweight Championship anytime soon because no POW competitor meets your standards…
Zevon: I was quite aware.
Cash: Dammit, let me finish!
Zevon: Do you need a timeout Mr. Cash?
*Zevon playfully pokes Cash in the chest, Stephie giggles. Cash swallows his pride for the moment and continues his question.*
Cash: Your standards are extremely lofty, are you trying to avoid defending the Eastern Heavyweight Championship?
Zevon: Most certainly not.
Cash: Drug screening. Written exam. Aren’t your standards a little ludicrous?
Zevon: Most certainly not.
Cash: And then you add a series of matches on top of that, isn’t it all too much?
Zevon: Most certainly not.
Cash: Are these requirements of yours simply a mean by which to avoid defending against worthy adversaries such as your opponents Sunday night, Combat Soldier and John Anthony?
Zevon: Most certainly not.
*Stephie has begun to break into intermittent, broken laughter.*
Cash: Are you going to answer with anything other than “most certainly not?”
Zevon (keeping a straight face): Most certainly not.
*Zevon gives Stephie a wink while Cash turns red the face.*
Cash: Dammit, are you going to cooperate or not?
Zevon: Most certainly not.
*Stephie emits a sharp giggle as Zevon pokes Cash in the chest. Cash’s face is fully red as he turns to Stephie.*
Cash: WHAT THE HELL IS SO FUNNY, STEPHIE!
Zevon: Will so.
Cash: DAMMIT! DAMMIT!
*Cash storms off after pausing to give Stephie a dirty look. Zevon pulls Stephie to his side.*
Zevon: That wasn’t very hard now was it?
Stephie: Most certainly not.
*Zevon warmly smiles.*
Zevon: Miss Campbell, you wanted to ask a few questions?
Stephie: Most certainly so! About your victory speech, what are the motives behind your rigorous standards for challengers?
Zevon: Simply put Miss Campbell, a wrestling champion ought to be an upstanding moral being with a deep respect for this business and I am simply insuring that any potential new champion is as good a person as I. The wrestling world deserves that.
Stephie: Alright then, any thoughts going in to your tag team match on Sunday?
Zevon: I understand what Lovejoy is trying to do here. He wants to see which of three men he wants to throw at me for my first title defense, with Mick Cormac having fallen off the wagon and all.
Stephie: Do you have any preference as to who you would like to face?
Zevon: All three men have shown potential, but none of them meet my standards. Combat Soldier is quite simply insane. John Anthony is a scourge to society and more importantly professional wrestling. Neither man is worthy of stepping into the ring against the Eastern Heavyweight Champion, even in a tag team contest.
Stephie: But the match has been set.
Zevon: It has, but that doesn’t mean that I’ll ever make it into the ring.
Stephie: You aren’t going to compete?
Zevon: It is highly doubtful. As I see it, Victor Bloodmoon, spurred on by the side effects of performance enhancing drugs, will demand that he start the match. Fine by me. Then, after about two minutes in the ring, he will fall in defeat. Also fine by me.
Stephie: I think you are selling Victor Bloodmoon short.
Zevon: He is overrated as the history of the lethal lottery tournament proves. Victor was the favorite. I was an alternate. Everyone and their cousin’s hamster chose Victor in their office pool. Nobody chose me. Victor Bloodmoon was defeated by Mick Cormac, a man I single handedly destroyed and exposed as a complete fraud. Therefore, it only follows that Victor Bloodmoon is a complete fraud, and I fully expect to have a short night standing on the ring apron showing off the Eastern Heavyweight Championship.
Now Stephie, before we end this oh so delightful encounter, I have a question for you: why was I ambushed by two interviewers at once? Besides the obvious fact that Lee Cash is a complete idiot.
Stephie: Slow week.
Zevon: Everyone focusing their attention on Supermania and leaving New England be?
Stephie: And we can’t find anyone else.
*Zevon smirks and pats Stephie on the shoulder as he begins to back into his room.*
Zevon: Less than a month as champion and everyone else has already given up. They know they aren’t worthy. They know they do not have the intellect and moral fiber to compete with the greatest Eastern Heavyweight Champion of all time.
*Zevon flashes a Nixon victory salute as he closes his hotel room door.*
Zevon: Where’s Cash?
*Zevon looks about the hall and sees no sign of Cash. He begins to back into his room but is pulled back out when he catches a glimpse of Stephie Campbell to his left. Zevon’s face lights up with a smile. The pounding of feet can be heard from Zevon’s right. Zevon quickly turns his head to find Lee Cash rushing down the hall. Zevon’s smile turns upside down.*
Stephie: Lee! What are you doing here?
Cash: Interviewing the champ. What are you doing here?
Stephie: Interviewing the champ.
Cash: I called the champ at the meeting.
Stephie: No Lee, I did.
*Zevon starts to back into his room. The door creaks and gains the attention of both interviewers. A dejected Zevon aborts his exit.*
Zevon: What do you want?
Cash and Stephie in unison: A word with the Eastern Heavyweight Champion.
*Cash and Stephie pause and look each other in the eye. Cash blinks first.*
Cash: Jinx!
Stephie: What?
Cash: You can’t speak until I say your name.
*Stephie looks at Zevon for help, but is met by a playful nod of truth.*
Cash: Score!
*Stephie gets red in the face and begins to walk away. Zevon grabs her by the arm and pulls her back.*
Zevon: Wait, he’ll slip up.
Cash: Will not.
Zevon: Will so.
Cash: Will not!
Zevon: Will so.
Cash: I damn well will not!
Zevon: Start asking questions or get to steppin’.
*Cash cools off and regains his false bravado.*
Cash: Last week on the Road to Over in Dover, you stated that you will not be defending the Eastern Heavyweight Championship anytime soon because no POW competitor meets your standards…
Zevon: I was quite aware.
Cash: Dammit, let me finish!
Zevon: Do you need a timeout Mr. Cash?
*Zevon playfully pokes Cash in the chest, Stephie giggles. Cash swallows his pride for the moment and continues his question.*
Cash: Your standards are extremely lofty, are you trying to avoid defending the Eastern Heavyweight Championship?
Zevon: Most certainly not.
Cash: Drug screening. Written exam. Aren’t your standards a little ludicrous?
Zevon: Most certainly not.
Cash: And then you add a series of matches on top of that, isn’t it all too much?
Zevon: Most certainly not.
Cash: Are these requirements of yours simply a mean by which to avoid defending against worthy adversaries such as your opponents Sunday night, Combat Soldier and John Anthony?
Zevon: Most certainly not.
*Stephie has begun to break into intermittent, broken laughter.*
Cash: Are you going to answer with anything other than “most certainly not?”
Zevon (keeping a straight face): Most certainly not.
*Zevon gives Stephie a wink while Cash turns red the face.*
Cash: Dammit, are you going to cooperate or not?
Zevon: Most certainly not.
*Stephie emits a sharp giggle as Zevon pokes Cash in the chest. Cash’s face is fully red as he turns to Stephie.*
Cash: WHAT THE HELL IS SO FUNNY, STEPHIE!
Zevon: Will so.
Cash: DAMMIT! DAMMIT!
*Cash storms off after pausing to give Stephie a dirty look. Zevon pulls Stephie to his side.*
Zevon: That wasn’t very hard now was it?
Stephie: Most certainly not.
*Zevon warmly smiles.*
Zevon: Miss Campbell, you wanted to ask a few questions?
Stephie: Most certainly so! About your victory speech, what are the motives behind your rigorous standards for challengers?
Zevon: Simply put Miss Campbell, a wrestling champion ought to be an upstanding moral being with a deep respect for this business and I am simply insuring that any potential new champion is as good a person as I. The wrestling world deserves that.
Stephie: Alright then, any thoughts going in to your tag team match on Sunday?
Zevon: I understand what Lovejoy is trying to do here. He wants to see which of three men he wants to throw at me for my first title defense, with Mick Cormac having fallen off the wagon and all.
Stephie: Do you have any preference as to who you would like to face?
Zevon: All three men have shown potential, but none of them meet my standards. Combat Soldier is quite simply insane. John Anthony is a scourge to society and more importantly professional wrestling. Neither man is worthy of stepping into the ring against the Eastern Heavyweight Champion, even in a tag team contest.
Stephie: But the match has been set.
Zevon: It has, but that doesn’t mean that I’ll ever make it into the ring.
Stephie: You aren’t going to compete?
Zevon: It is highly doubtful. As I see it, Victor Bloodmoon, spurred on by the side effects of performance enhancing drugs, will demand that he start the match. Fine by me. Then, after about two minutes in the ring, he will fall in defeat. Also fine by me.
Stephie: I think you are selling Victor Bloodmoon short.
Zevon: He is overrated as the history of the lethal lottery tournament proves. Victor was the favorite. I was an alternate. Everyone and their cousin’s hamster chose Victor in their office pool. Nobody chose me. Victor Bloodmoon was defeated by Mick Cormac, a man I single handedly destroyed and exposed as a complete fraud. Therefore, it only follows that Victor Bloodmoon is a complete fraud, and I fully expect to have a short night standing on the ring apron showing off the Eastern Heavyweight Championship.
Now Stephie, before we end this oh so delightful encounter, I have a question for you: why was I ambushed by two interviewers at once? Besides the obvious fact that Lee Cash is a complete idiot.
Stephie: Slow week.
Zevon: Everyone focusing their attention on Supermania and leaving New England be?
Stephie: And we can’t find anyone else.
*Zevon smirks and pats Stephie on the shoulder as he begins to back into his room.*
Zevon: Less than a month as champion and everyone else has already given up. They know they aren’t worthy. They know they do not have the intellect and moral fiber to compete with the greatest Eastern Heavyweight Champion of all time.
*Zevon flashes a Nixon victory salute as he closes his hotel room door.*
