Los Angeles, California - Sunday, July 02, 2006
“R.I.P
That’s what it said on the tombstone. “R.I.P Token ‘Blackman’ Fisher.” No special message or anything. I couldn’t think of one that I deemed fitting. “Great friend” was too generic, “Kind soul” was too cheesy, and for some reason I wasn’t allowed to get “Most awesomest fucking dude to ever live” on that thing. I guess that label is reserved for Jesus or something. Maybe they’ll put that on Johnny Knoxville’s tombstone, that dude’s hilarious.”
”Keep on topic please Lee,” says Dr. Connolly, the same middle-aged, roughly shaven psychiatrist that Lee was meeting with last time.
”Right, my bad. Serious things just aren’t my strong point,” Lee solemnly admits.
”I’ve noticed.” A slight nod comes with Dr. Connolly’s reply.
”Well where was I?” Lee asks, more out of a subconscious desire to avoid talking about anything of importance than because he legitimately forgot.
”The tombstone.”
”Oh… right…” A brief moment passes as he gathers his thoughts before speaking again. ”It’s like… I wanted the message to matter. I wanted everybody and anybody to walk past the grave and have the message catch their attention out of the corner of their eye. That peripheral vision shit. I wanted people to walk past that grave and think to themselves “Token Fisher, hmm… I wonder what he did with his life. It must’ve been quite important to get such a fancy tombstone and ooh… look at that wonderful message written on it. He must’ve been loved.” I only half-succeeded though, and that results in even more of a failure. I got a great big tombstone with the intention of giving Token the send-off that he rightfully deserved. But now that tombstone looks even emptier because all that’s on there is “R.I.P Token ‘Blackman’ Fisher”. I’m half expecting to go back there and see the clean gray stone covered in graffiti.”
”Do you really think somebody would do that?” The doctor peers over the rim of his glasses.
”It doesn’t matter if I think that or not. All that matters is that there’s a slab of rock jutting up out of the ground, marking the point where Token is buried and all that is written on that rock is “R.I.P Token ‘Blackman’ Fisher”. I mean, it wasn’t even my idea to include the “Blackman” part on there. That was actually written into his will.”
”Well what do you think Token would’ve wanted you to put on it?” Lee sighs heavily as he leans forward and digs his elbows into his legs to keep the rest of his body from toppling over. His head succumbs to gravity as it hangs low staring at the ground.
”He’d probably be perfectly content with what is on there right now,” Lee says, looking up at Dr. Connolly.
”So where’s the problem then?”
”I don’t know… I think… Token was modest. The only ego he ever had was used solely to keep mine in check. He was never the type to waltz into a room and yell at the top of his lungs “I’m the greatest motherfucker up in this bitch!” Meanwhile I’d have some douchebags carry in a banner and play the damn trumpets to announce my arrival. I don’t do subtle, and here was a chance to use all the glitz and glamour I can afford for a worthy cause. But everything about that tombstone seems wrong. Even the standard “R.I.P”. Is that like a command or something? Who am I to demand that Token must rest in peace? What if he doesn’t want to? What if he wants to come and haunt my crazy ass? I’d sure welcome the company, but is somebody actually going to do something to Token if that’s what he decides? Is there some ghost police with ghost batons and ghost guns who enforce the “Rest in Peace” written on everybody’s tombstones? Just how peaceful is death anyway? Does anybody even know if it’s possible to be at peace once you’re dead? What if the terrorists are right, and Allah is the real God? All of us infidels will spend the rest of eternity getting fucked up by some demon sonofabitches. It’d take a twisted mind to find the torture of hell peaceful.”
”Isn’t that the point of faith though?” the good doctor inquires, ”If one believes enough to think that there is a heaven and hell, then surely one thinks that they’re believing in the right religion.”
”Faith is for the weak or the incredibly strong,” Lee bluntly states.
”That’s a bold statement.”
”Yeah, it is.” Lee nods, further showing his agreement. ”But it’s true. Just think about it, the weak people of this world have faith because they need something to follow to make their lives worthwhile. The incredibly strong have faith to keep them humble, because after all the good that they’ve done, the supposed knowledge that it can all be taken away from them in an instant keeps them from going power-hungry.”
”Okay… but what are you? Are you strong or are you weak?” This earns a chuckle from Lee who feels that he should’ve been expecting that question.
”I’m strong. Perhaps one of the strongest. In our day and age though, the incredibly strong are all gone. They die for what they believe in. I died for what I believed in, which is what makes me strong. I just would never use the word “incredible” to describe myself. Perhaps “amazing” or even “incomparable”, but not “incredible”.”
”So what is it that you believe in?”
”I believe that I can do abso-fucking-lutely anything,” Lee firmly says, “And that’s the entire reason this tombstone business is getting to me.”
”Maybe you just need to go back to the grave and look at the tombstone again,” Dr. Connolly suggests. ”That way you can see if it really is as bad as you think it is.”
”While that’s a nice thought Doc, I’ve got too much on my plate to head back to Springfield right now. Last Breath is this Sunday…”
”And you’re not going to be much good to anybody there if your head isn’t in the right place,” he says, interrupting Lee.
”I’ve got to see Mandy though, I’ve been away for two weeks now, that’s far too long.
”Do you have every intention of going back to seeing her as soon as possible?” Dr. Connolly asks.
”You know I do.”
”And she knows this?”
”Well I hope a simple look at the rock on her finger will let her know.”
”She’ll understand then.”
”Yeah, I know.” His voice weakens as he speaks. ”I just don’t know if I do.”
”What was that?”
”Nothing man. I’ll do what you’re saying and I’ll try my best to keep an open mind, but I ain’t promising anything.”
”Neither am I.”
”Super,” he says, the strength in his voice taking back its rightful place. ”Are we done?”
”Yes. I think that’ll do for today. I’ll see you next week?”
”If I make it ‘til then.” Lee’s dark joke puts a smile only on his own face.
”Bye Lee,” Dr. Connolly stands up and just a quick step behind, Lee does the same.
”Later Doc,” and they clasp hands.
Springfield, Ohio – Later That Day
Lee’s private jet has left the beautiful summer of California and returned for the umpteenth time to the state of Ohio. Just as Dr. Connolly had predicted, the ever-understanding Mandy Freeman has given both permission and encouragement to our cynical hero and now he finds himself wandering through the graveyard where his longtime friend Token Fisher (formerly Token Blackman) was buried. It’s not the bare tombstone described previously that he comes to however. Instead, he seems to have veered from his original path and is carefully making his way between tombstones to reach an entirely different path. At the end of this path, a female figure is sitting on the cobblestones. Her short black shorts reveal more leg than is probably appropriate in a graveyard, but her modest gray shirt somewhat cancels it out. As Lee approaches her, the features of her face in profile become clearer. This is Shelly Moore, former love of Lee’s life and the only person who can claim to missing Token even more than Lee. Light catches a tear on her cheek and glimmers as Lee walks past her. For a brief moment as Lee is behind her, the light outlines her entire head. Coupled with her blonde hair, it’s almost as if she has a halo. Lee sits on the cobblestones on the other side of her, his white board shorts no doubt getting dirty but I don’t think he seems to care. Maybe when he stands his shorts will be color-coordinated with the gray singlet that hides his customized necklace from catching the light in the same way as this Shelly’s tears did.
Instead of saying anything, Lee stares in the same direction as Shelly. In the grass in front of them, two small stones stick out of the ground, identical in size, shape and the layout of what has been carved into them. The names read Joseph Anthony Moore and Conner Leroy Stone, with no date given and “You live inside us” underneath the names. These mark the burial point of the children of Lee Stone and Shelly Moore, their stillborn twins. Two tombstones for one coffin. They were created together and now they are destroyed together. ”I thought you left?” Shelly asks, eventually breaking the claming quiet.
”I did,” Lee replies simply and quietly, both of their heads not turning to face each other.
”But you came back?” She asks, still keeping her vacant eyes fixed firmly on the two stones.
”Yeah, I came back.” Shelly doesn’t continue her line of questioning. Lee gives her plenty of time to if she wants to, but her choice is obviously to end it there. It’s a relief really. He doesn’t want to explain this. ”Get up.”
”What?” Now her attention has been gained, and her head turns to face Lee. Even without makeup, she still has the beauty to stop traffic. Lee knows this, but he’s happy now. He still loves Shelly, but not in the way that he loves Mandy.
”Get up.” He scrambles to his own feet and dusts off the back of his shorts before offering her his hand. ”Come on, we don’t have all day… well, actually we probably do, but that’s not the point. Get up.”
”Why?” More questions…
”For Christ’s sake, just take my hand please. After all we’ve been through you should never be at the point where you can’t trust me.” And now Shelly nods. With Lee’s help she rises to her feet. She stretches her legs out, showing how long she had been in the same position. Then, still with her hand clutching Lee’s, the two of them walk back between the tombstones to the path Lee was originally on. As the silently tread down these new cobblestones, the exact picture of what Lee had described to Dr. Connolly soon becomes visible. And there, in front of Token’s tombstone is where Lee guides Shelly to sit once more. The same quiet they sat in at their children’s graves takes over, but it passes much more quickly.
”It’s too bare.”
”My thoughts exactly, I just didn’t know what to put on there. What would you have put if it was up to you?”
”I…” she tries but no words come right away. After taking some time to think, she finally says something. “Everything. I would’ve put everything on there.”
”Everything…” Lee repeats, ”I like that.
From the one side pocket that his shorts have, Lee brings out a marker pen. Smiling warmly at Shelly, he then leans forward and on the stone underneath what is already carved, he writes the word “Everything” in large letters. Sitting back, he looks at the tombstone and then at Shelly, as another tear rolls down her cheek. But rather than saying anything she motions for Lee to hand the pen to her, a request which Lee fulfills. With the pen in hand, Shelly now leans forward and writes above Lee’s word. She writes more words than Lee and so takes a little longer, but once she’s done she sits back in the same manner as Lee. With a large smile on his face, Lee reads what she wrote.
”Thank you for…” He laughs now as he combines what they both wrote. ”Thank you for everything.”
”That’s much better.”
”Agreed, but it could be better still.” And now Lee motions for the pen once again. When he receives it, he leans forward and scrawls out another new message. This one reads “I’d be happy for you to haunt me” and it even manages to crack Shelly, turning her into a messy combination of sobbing and laughing. They take turns writing new messages all over the front, back and sides of the tombstone. Shelly draws a rose to make up for the lack of flowers around the grave. Lee draws a car with an arrow saying “WRX”, that’s what Token’s car was. The final thing that they write is done with both of their hands on the pen at the same time. And as awkward as that sounds, on the bottom of the front of the tombstone, in the largest letters of them all, four words can legibly be seen. “We still love you”.
”Thank you,” Shelly says as they both lean back to examine their handiwork.
”Nah, thank him.” She laughs before answering.
”I was,” she says, grinning ear-to-ear. ”But thank you as well.”
”Don’t mention it. Helped myself out here too.” He takes her by the hand and looks her directly in the eye. ”But promise me one thing.”
”Anything.”
”Promise me that if you ever need anything, you’ll come to me, because I will always be here for you.”
”You don’t even need to tell me that. Even when you were on your little ‘leave of absence’ as we will now call it, Token always wished you were around. Things happen around you Lee. A lot of it bad, but somehow you make everything work out.” And in a rare turn of events, Lee Stone is speechless. ”But there is something that I want you to promise me.”
”Anything,” he says with a glimmer of his teeth showing in a smile as he exaggerates passion to make it seem like something from a soap opera. Shelly fights back a chuckle to answer
”On the first of March, every year, can you meet me?”
”At their graves?” She nods. “They” are the children who never had a chance, Joseph and Conner. The first of March was the day of their birth/death.
”And on the tenth of June, can you meet me here?” The tenth of June was the day Token officially died.
”We’ll write all over this tombstone again if we have to,” Lee says, in his own way of promising. ”I will be there.”
”Thank you.”
”You know… I never get tired of being thanked. But as wicked cool as that is, I really need to get home,” he says, getting to his feet.
”To a hotel?” Shelly follows his lead and also gets to her feet.
”No, to Mandy.” They begin to walk back to the entrance of the graveyard. ”To life. I don’t want to mourn and mope around for the rest of my life, and I hope you don’t either. I’m getting back in the ring, and I’m getting back control… of everything.”
”You do that.”
”Oh I will, but the last thing I want to know, is what you’re going to do?”
”I think I’m going to walk home. Then I’ll take a vacation. My mom invited me to stay with her down in Orlando and I think I’ll take her up on that for a little while.”
”I think that’s a great idea,” Lee nods approval as they step out onto the sidewalk. Lee’s limo is parked just a few feet away. ”You sure you don’t want a ride?”
”No, it’s a beautiful day and I just want to enjoy it. Besides, I won’t be walking alone.
”You won’t be?” Lee’s puzzled expression is met with a smile and a wink from Shelly.
”I have the utmost faith that Token is right here with us now.” Lee is amused by this. It’s the faith that amuses him the most, but just thinking of having Token nearby puts the smile on his face.
”Well tell him if he wants to haunt me, then he better not break anything or I’ll die, whoop his ghost ass and then bring myself back alive. Now come here sweetheart.” And they hug.
Auckland, New Zealand - Tuesday, July 04, 2006
The following is a recorded promotion in association with Lee Stone and the X-Treme Wrestling Federation.
The camera opens on Lee Stone in an airport lobby. People move all over the place in the background, each with their own life and story to tell, but it’s Lee who has the stage now, and it’s him that you came to hear. His clothes have changed to fit the colder climate, and without further ado, here’s the warm little bear himself. Oh God, I can’t believe I just said that.
”Bitches and gentlefucks, little faggots of all ages, Lee Stone is not dead. Don’t panic and please keep your clothes on. I was just busy. You see, I’m an entrepreneur. I got a lot on my plate, some of it rather impressive and some of it rather personal. But here I am, The Past, The Present and The Future, The World’s Greatest… Lee Stone.
Some refer to me as the former Universal Champion… The Past; some consider me to still be champ as I still have the belt to prove it… The Present; but one thing that is “undeniable” to steal a phrase from a certain Outhouse Jack acquaintance of mine, is that no matter what happens… the Universal Championship will be mine as soon as old Jonny Brown can inform us all of just what the hell is going on… The Future. And don’t bother trying to deny it cockfags, because I ain’t got no problem kicking your ass so hard that you visit the dentist and he shits his god damn pants when he opens your mouth up and sees my toes. And having toes in your mouth ain’t healthy either, so just avoid it while you can.
I see changes are going on in this Last Breath shindig though. That whole SJ against Ashen thing has gone a bit too far though if you ask me. Judas, let me ask you this, man to man, egomaniacal jackass to egomaniacal homosexual jackass (that’s you), champ to chump: the fuck is wrong with you? You can’t beat Steve “Weed Sets Me Free” Jason on your own? You gotta get yourself three other niggas to rub… I mean watch your back for you? That gives you about as much credibility as T Money’s fluke comments about me whooping his ass, but that’s a whole new story. This one here ain’t a story like Lord of the Rings at all. This is the truth. You are worried about Stevie J so you need to get your own crew together to get the job done. It’s a smart move, I’ll give you that. But if you could’ve already killed that motherfucker, then doesn’t it kinda defeat the purpose. You emo fuckers always had me confused with your logic though. My daddy was an asshole too but you don’t see me cutting my wrists. Now Judy, I know that whole “Waa waa waa, my dad plugged my butthole” was Cyren’s deal as opposed to yours, but with the knives and the blood and the the death and stuff, you don’t really do yourself many favors. At least you got a sense of humor, I’ll give you that. That whole “Headmaster Stone” shit back in February was funny as hell. Of course I wasn’t entirely comfortable in stealing T Money’s nickname, because we all know that he’s the real Master of Head.
Now Steven, I hope you caught my weed crack earlier. I decided I’d finally take your advice and comment on your whole surfing deal rather than your stereotypical Aussie-ness, but I don’t think it really works for me, so with that I’d like to announce that you’re an inbred, animal-loving, convict. But I won’t hold that against you. What I will hold against you is one word that sprung form your lips. One word that had me wanting to backhand that one real tooth you have left into the back of your throat. “Helldome”. I’ma ask you right now the same question that I asked Iscariot… the fuck is wrong with you? Do you get off on blood? Does death make you horny? I think somewhere in this little war of yours you and Judas became the same person, because out of all the fucked up things you’ve ever chosen to do, that was the most fucked up. And trust me, it had some pretty stiff competition. I mean, hearing the rules for your first stipulation had me asking myself “why?”. But whatever, I’m sure you’ll be perfectly content if either you or Judas die. I mean, it’s not like both of your entire careers are built off an everlasting battle with each other. It’s not as if your entire legacy is based upon the existence of your nemesis. You’ll do just fine, I’m sure.
The same cannot be said for the sanity of one, T Money. It is official everybody, T has lost his mind! If he had any friends, perhaps they’d help him try to find it but he lost it so long ago that it’s probably now lost for centuries, only to be discovered by the aliens that will eventually invade earth and laugh at his lack of brain power. You lost the Helldome because you were outnumbered right? Well yeah actually… you did. But by letting yourself get outnumbered, you were outsmarted. It’s not like that’s an accomplishment I’ll boast about or anything, it’s not boast-worthy to outsmart “gangstas” but we did it anyway. Did we need to? Well that’s debatable. Trent Gein was in one of his “Hulk Smash! Hulk Bash!” moods that night and was fucking you niggas up all over the place. And that’s the truth. But we’ll never know what would’ve happened if Alex Cutwright hadn’t made his appearance, because he did. However T, there is a huge gaping Jen Jetson-vagina sized hole in your comments about our one-on-one match. You see T, I may not have dominated the entire match, but I did win very decisively. You said that I simply rolled you up to win. You actually said that it wasn’t like I knocked you out or anything. Well I guess when you’re unconscious your memory isn’t very active because T, I did in fact knock you the fuck out! Here’s the clip to prove it.”
Sunday, 27 November, 2005 – Tehran, Iran
The Stone Cutter!
Lee Stone just connected with the Stone Cutter but he doesn’t go for the pinfall…
Armageddon!
Stone locked on the Armageddon and T Money is helpless to fight it. The official comes over and asks T Money if he wants to continue but he doesn’t get any response.
The official grabs T Money’s arm and holds it up once only to watch it drop.
He then grabs it again and it drops to the mat a second time.
If T Money doesn’t respond to this third arm drop he will lose his title.
The ref lifts T Money’s arm and…
…it drops! Auckland, New Zealand - Tuesday, July 04, 2006
”Judges decision? You got knocked out fool. No tampering with the tape or nothing. It comes straight from my personal archives that will be making up my top-selling set of DVDs. I flat out beat you. And until you come to terms with that, all your talk about how afraid I really am has less credibility than Kevin Federline as a rapper. I’ve lost in the past. A fact that I have never once tried to deny, which goes against everything you’ve been saying. Hell, I admitted it in the lead-up to our match just the same as I’ll admit it now. But still I walked around with an ego that I could stomp your ass… and I did just that. I had an ego way back then, nothing to do with you. In fact, the only thing you’ve given my career is a chance to taunt Steve Jason about how much of a right I have to be an Unkillable, and a Universal Title reign delivered to me on a silver platter. You’re a joke T. And as much as we can both say that we know we’re the best, the proof supports my claims, not yours. And if you want your rematch, you’ll get it. You may have to wait a while, what with my entire universe not revolving around you the way yours does around me… but you’ll get it. And I’ll be sure to have “Got stomped by Lee Stone” carved onto your tombstone, just so that my name can get a few more people to attend your funeral.
Now that all that is out of my way, there’s one person left… where oh where has my house nigga gone? Haha, Christian, get out a damn camcorder and film something. For fuck’s sake woman, I’m getting bored as shit over here having to listen to the same old shit from the same old bitches. Of course, I need to be in the right mood to watch one of your promos. You get up on that thoughtful shit and have me contemplating the meaning of life while sipping on tea and delicately nibbling away at crumpets. I feel right proper and very intellectual. Now that ain’t a stab at ya man, I mean, you do your thing just like I do mine, and it works for you. You were the most dominant XWF World Champion last year and were just a couple of weeks away from being crowned the new DW World Champion back in that hellhole. But there’s one thing that you largely lack Christian, and that’s aggression. You tend to sit back and ride things out. I was always the playmaker of the two of us, but what I planned usually couldn’t be done without you. The point is buddy… you’re not a leader.
It’s almost a broken record with me saying this. So many people step up and try to take my place. They try to take my throne. BoonDock Saint is the obvious example here, but the difference between you and our resident Catholic priest is that you’re not trying to take my place are you. This isn’t a jostle for power, or even a blood feud like T and I seem to have engulfed ourselves in. This is a wrestling showcase. A battle between friends to appease the masses. But the point is still the same. You cannot and will not beat me buddy.
Leaders are thinkers. They never stop thinking. They have every possibile outcome of every possible option considered and have their own reactions planned out. They adapt quickly and efficiently. They think. Now I’m not saying that you don’t have the mental capacity to think or anything, I mean… it’s not like you’re T Money. All I’m trying to say Christian is that your thoughts aren’t in the right place to beat me. They never have been and I seriously doubt that they’ll be there now. I am The Suntan Superman’s kryptonite. That right isn’t reserved for Kid Money, it’s mine and mine alone. You see, there are different types of kryptonite with different effects on Superman. Red makes him crazy, green fucks him up royally, blah blah blah. That’s like me though Christian. I have different effects on you. I can either make you better, or fuck you up royally. It all depends on what I want, and I’ve proven that in the past. I know you inside out. I know your strengths and your weaknesses, things that you care about and the things that you don’t. And no matter what you throw at me, I will have an answer. Even if it’s something new, I will adapt based on your other tendencies. I have you beat already, we just need to make it official.
But beating you isn’t enough. Oh no. I gotta beat you twice to get the win. Maybe in that time you’ll get lucky and be the first to pin me in over a year. I doubt you’ll make me tap, but you can sure try. You shouldn’t try, because pinning me will be hard enough to do, let alone making me tap, but if you really feel the need then be my guess. See for yourself why I’m warning you. Because Christian… I feel stronger. I feel faster. I feel better than ever, and I’ve felt pretty fucking good in the past. Given the number of losses that T Money loves to remind me of, you would’ve expected me to feel quite fantastic with the Universal Title above my head, but now I’m even better. Just think about that for a moment.
You’ve always been in my shadow homie. I told you in the lead up to the Dynasty Wrestling Destiny Rumble match that I felt kind of guilty about that, but something you said made me think twice about that. You told me that I was the star of the show. You told me that I was in the spotlight because I deserved it. And now that I think about it, I wholeheartedly agree. I did deserve it, and my time ain’t up. My life could only be better one way, and that’s to be recognized once more as the World’s Greatest, a title I claim as my own. And you will see. You may choose not to talk. The cat’s got your tongue, whatever that means. But you will see. I am The Past, The Present and The Future. I am the World’s Greatest. I am this business. And that’s a fact, jack. Peace…
And the camera fades away quicker than T Money’s career.