Friday, July 14, 2006 – New York City, New York
”When you hear about fairy tale stories, little can beat Cinderella; the poor (in the wealth, pity and treatment sense of the word) who became the belle of the ball. So many modern stories are based upon this one tale. From the blatant rip-offs such as Hilary Duff’s “A Cinderella Story” to Jennifer Lopez’s more distant “Maid In Manhattan” and connections can even be drawn to completely different films such as the male-orientated “The Fast And The Furious: Tokyo Drift” and the parody “Not Another Teen Movie” where a misfit/outcast seems to find a place amongst or even higher than those responsible for the casting out or missing of fit. But it’s not just films dealing with this similar storyline. The trend spreads throughout written literature, including poems, short stories and novels. It is seen on television screens in countries all across the world. And this common storyline even seems to push into the boundaries of reality. It doesn’t have to be a pauper-to-princess story, nor even a pauper-to-prince story, love isn’t a necessary element and neither is an abusive stepmother. All that is needed to draw comparisons to the tale of Cinderella is success where it was said to be impossible. If one is interested in seeing how this works in real life, look no further than New Zealand’s own Lee Stone.
Born in Gisborne Hospital on January 11, 1978 to Bruce and Cherie Stone, he was the second of two children. His older brother Stan had two years extra experience on the young Maori boy but it was Lee who would grow to be a name known around the world. Christened Leroy Bruce Stone, he had trouble as a small child figuring out why his parents chuckled whenever he called himself Leroy, so in a merciful action, they abbreviated it to Lee. Not long after he turned two, Lee’s father had what Lee describes as ‘a midlife crisis’ and left his family high-and-dry without income. Cherie found a job that required a five hour drive to the town of Cambridge and a new life. Unfortunately in this new town they lacked the support of the iwi and wider Maori community and things remained shaky for a long time. When discussing his childhood, Lee’s usually jovial expression takes a somber turn. “It was hard. Those years molded me into who I am, but in the case of some events, I wouldn’t wish them on my worst enemies.” These events which he consistently remains vague about led to depression in his brother and added stress to his mother. Lee has let a few things slip over the course of his adult life so far, including possible references to time spent in juvenile detention and men circling in and out of his mother’s life. One thing is known for certain, is that there was at least one man and he had the largest impact on Lee’s choice of profession.
Never being a top scholar, it was sports that Lee saw his future in. A regional representative in rugby and a bright prospect to bolster New Zealand’s amateur wrestling reputation, many were baffled by his decision to take neither path and instead carve out his own in the field of professional wrestling. The man known only as Hellhole or H seemed to take on the role of father, mentor, agent and friend to Lee as the two traveled to America in search of work in the pro wrestling business. Standing at a remarkable 7’5” Hellhole already had a reputation and had worked before, which made it easier for him to slip back into the swing of things. Lee however seemed to make more money from companies ending contracts with him than from actually wrestling. While his win/loss record was acceptable, he was soon losing passion and a break was in store.
After a year or three of break, Lee Stone returned to the ring in March of 2001 after calling up one of few friends he made working those odd dates, Eric “X-Treme” Bruce. In their new found home of ICW, the going was slow. X-Treme’s unannounced disappearing act didn’t help to propel Lee up the card, but quite possibly the most significant meeting of Lee’s life occurred on the flight back from an annual ICW tournament in Germany. Lee met a woman by the name of Shelly Moore, and the two connected instantly. “Shelly… well, Shelly is Shelly. It doesn’t matter what happens between us, if anybody ever hurts her then I hurt them.” From there, there was only one way to go for Lee… up. The hard work eventually began to pay off as Lee had an impressive United States title reign where unforeseen circumstance caused him to vacate the title, and then on return he managed to win the same annual tournament that was held in Germany the year before. With it came the title King of the Cage and his first taste of World Title glory, a taste that he loved.
After defending the title week in and week out for the next month, Lee’s reign only lasted a month but his number of successful title defenses outweighed many who had reigns four times the size. Regardless of the length he was champion for, Lee Stone had proved a point… he was here to win. His relationship was on the rocks at this time and would never get back to where it used to be, but after a Tag Team Title reign that started by defeating three opponents, Lee decided to call it quits for good in ICW. He never looked back.
After working for a company named Oblivion Wrestling, run by an acquaintance of Lee’s, he quickly captured the Universal Title there but the level of talent didn’t appeal to him and so he soon left without ever losing the belt. Greener pastures were in need, or should I say “redder” pastures… blood red. And then he found the X-Treme Wrestling Federation. “So many times in the past I had walked straight into a show for the first time, looked around the locker room and asked myself where the competition was at, the XWF was different. When I walked into that locker room for the first time, I was in awe. The depth of talent was beyond anything I had ever seen before. I mean, I had seen guys with this level of talent before, but not in such dense concentration. Not so many on the same show. I guess the stars were just all aligned for me. This was what I needed. There was no comfort away from the ring for me, so I began to change my entire life. I buried myself inside this company with the hope that as long as it survived then I would survive.” It was a risky move and Lee knew it. He tried to heal his relationships outside of the wrestling world but to very little success. He knew he had to succeed in the ring. But even this was harder than he expected. His win record was barely beating his losses and in the first year of competition, he had yet to win a title belt. Taking some time off to reorientate himself, most people forgot about October 2003’s Newcomer of the Year, but he’d force them to know his name soon enough.
Re-energized after an absence of over half a year, he made a direct call to XWF Owner Jonathyn Brown who seemed to break his normal character in response to Lee’s simple “hello”. “He said “Woah, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you” when I first called him back. I couldn’t really help but laugh at that. It made me feel that I was actually remembered, and that maybe I had actually accomplished something there in the first place.” But what he was about to accomplish would be far greater. Placed on XWF’s lower-level show of Massacre the week before a Pay Per View, it took just a week for Lee to earn two victories as well as the XWF Hart Title, superkick the General Manager in the face and out of the fed and then be promoted to the A-level show Anarchy. After three matches here, all victories to Lee Stone and all including his future partner Christian Connolly, Lee soon became the Canadian Champion and the future looked bright indeed. With the start of a new relationship and a second Canadian Title reign under his belt, Lee was poised to hit the big time. Dubbing himself The Future and controversially squeaking out wins over many former Universal Champions, Lee was named Star of the Month for April 2005. His opportunity had arrived. The main event for May’s Zero Tolerance Pay Per View was made and in it Dynamic Dynamite would defend his Universal Title against none other than Lee Stone in a Last Man Standing Match. He was just a breath away, but every breath in his body would fail to help him achieve his goal as an audience member stabbed him, piercing his lung and causing him to be unable to answer the ten count. He had failed… or had he?
Health wasn’t the only reason Lee stayed away from the ring for a few more months. Throughout my entire interview with him, I picked up on the idea that he was not interested in delving into deep details of his personal life. But here he became vaguer than throughout the rest of the interview. He described this passage of this life as a lot of “soul searching” but there was a hint in his eye that suggested at a search for something else. Whatever he was looking for, he certainly found a few great things. At XWF’s Autumn in Hell, his second Pay Per View appearance since returning, one of the most brutal matches ever witnessed in the XWF unfolded with Lee Stone right in the middle of it all. The Blood Hounds: T Money, Kid Money and Juggalo faced off against The Vigilantes: Christian Connolly, Lee Stone and substitute member Trent Gein. The match went in the Vigilantes favor thanks to Trent Gein and the XWF Stable Titles were added to Lee’s growing list of accomplishments, but the result wasn’t what had everybody talking. Instead it was the interaction between T Money and Lee Stone that was on everybody’s lips. T Money threw Lee from the top of the forty-five foot “Helldome” that the match took place in, threw flames and directly onto the concrete floor. Lee’s heart stopped beating. “I like to look on the bright side of everything and laugh at the whole ordeal. People constantly ask me what was going through my head at that time and I simply respond by saying “You try falling forty-five feet literally to your death and then come back to me and see if you can remember what you were thinking” because quite frankly, I have no idea. I’m sure a lot of swear words were thought and probably even said as I fell, but that whole part is a blur. I’m the kind of guy to give credit where credit is due, T did good that night. I’da done the same thing in his position so I don’t hold that against him, our problems stem from him simply being a jackass. But while that night may be the closest thing T can claim to being close to beating me, he screwed up big time that night. That night he confirmed to me that I’m doing exactly what I should be doing, because I’m willing to die for something then that thing must be very important to me.” And important it was.
One month later Lee Stone defeated T Money one-on-one after Lee’s Armageddon submission finisher was too much for the Harlem Hellraiser to handle and Lee’s eyes were wide open as he was handed the XWF Universal Title. Over two years of blood, sweet and tears had finally paid off. Since then Lee Stone has yet to be beaten, save for a brief battle royal appearance in the XWF’s sister company Dynasty Wrestling where Lee eliminated himself. Grudgingly Lee admits that he hasn’t wrestled every week that his streak has been intact for, but with a win just last Sunday against Christian Connolly, it may very well be true that Lee is indeed the World’s Greatest. Only time can tell, but the question on everybody’s lips is about the future, pardon the pun. When asked what the future holds, Lee replies with a grin and a twinkle in his eye. “Marriage.” It seems that while Lee was “soul searching” he found a soul that he simply couldn’t live without, and much to the dismay of females across the world, he is now engaged and completely willing to open up about his love for Mandy Alicia Freeman. “Perfection personified, and I don’t even think that’s me being love blind. I wouldn’t need to be pushed off a cage to die for Mandy, I’d rip my own heart out of my chest if it meant she’d never shed a tear.” Judging from the way he talks about her, it seems even his twisted sense of humor and unwavering confidence can be kept in check by this one woman. And if Lee can manage to keep his feet on the ground, and still have his head in the clouds, it’s going to make for an interesting story to follow. He’s brash, outspoken, cocky and devious, yet he acts with such a goofy charm that even those that fall into the category of looking down on professional wrestlers as nothing more than steroid-induced freaks cannot help but smile when in his presence. From coming from nothing to having the entire world in the palm of his hand, Lee Stone is our Local Spotlight. See you next week.”
- Article extracted from the New Zealand Woman’s Weekly. Written by Fiona Fraser.
”So what do you think?” asks Lee as he drops down onto the sofa in a penthouse suite of Trump International Hotel & Tower right next to his fiancée. He drops his arm onto Mandy’s nearest shoulder and leans on her as she looks up from the magazine she was reading, presumably the exact New Zealand Woman’s Weekly that the previous article is from.
”I’m still surprised that anybody would be interested enough in your life to put you in a woman’s magazine,” she says, purposefully trying to get a reaction from Lee.
”Lee Stone’s appeal is widespread luv. You of all people should know that. I can make lesbians turn straight, KKK members walk in the Million Man March, zebras turn into freaking humans. I rule!” Lee exclaims, brushing off any attempt to take a shot at him with his usual ease.
”That last one was probably a little too much information,” Mandy says, screwing her face up a little.
”Even so, it doesn’t make it any less true. If I wanted to fuck a zebra I simply couldn’t do it because the zebra would turn human as soon as that thought crossed my mind.” Lee always has to take it one step too far.
”Please stop with that line of thinking, for both of our sakes. I think I’m going to hurl.” A shake of the head further cements Mandy’s opinion on Lee’s thoughts.
”Bah, you ain’t got nothing to worry about sweetheart,” he says, planting a kiss onto her cheek. ”Why would I want a zebra when I’ve got you?”
”You know, I was wondering that same exact thing. Seriously though, this piece is missing something.”
”Oh?” Lee’s eyebrow rises in query of this statement. ”And what would that be mademoiselle?”
”Me.” I love how one word can sum up an entire point of view.
”What are you talking about? Did you miss that whole “rip my own heart out of my chest” part? That was pure gold!”
”I won’t deny that, but it doesn’t say a single thing about how we met, and barely gives a clue as to how long we’d known each other for. Come to think of it, there’s next to no personal information about you in there at all. It doesn’t even have your height or weight when any avid wrestling fan would know that as well as your shoe size and blood type.” This right here is a prime example of the effect of Lee Stone rubbing off on the people who surround him. Lee has a habit of running on his words and taking one small thing and making it bigger. Much bigger. It must be hard to be such a magnetic person… actually, no it’s not.
”Yeah, I know.” He drops backwards, driving himself into the couch and staring out the window at the New York skyline in front of him. It’s really nothing impressive to look at during the day. ”The way I figured was that everything personal, is personal for a reason. I love attention almost as much as Paris Hilton but there’s a lot of things that people just don’t need to know. I’m sick of bad news to be honest. I’m sick of turning on the television and seeing that there’s been another bomb dropped. I’m sick of seeing people make money off some celebrity divorce. This world needs something to put a smile on their faces. They need a role model. They need hope. They need…”
”A hero?” Mandy interrupts.
”Yes. They need a hero. They need somebody to show them that it is possible to live this life without succumbing to all of the bad things.”
”I think you’ve been watching a little too much Superman,” she chuckles.
”While a strong case could be made to support that statement of yours, don’t try to act as if it isn’t true,” he says, as Mandy turns the magazine back to it’s cover page which coincidently is a picture of Lee, and tosses it onto the coffee table in front of the sofa.
”I’m doing nothing of the kind,” she says, turning to face her man, clearly amused. ”I’m simply questioning what makes you think that you’re able to fill this ‘Superman’ role. I mean, think about the principles behind the Superman character. He’s a misfit, which you could try to fit the mold of, but Superman stands for everything that is just and moral. He recognizes that if justice was changeable, depending on your opinion, then some would receive punishments they didn’t receive while others wouldn’t get punished enough. He acts as the balance, fighting for what the law says is right. And that’s why he’s not considered a menace to society like other superheroes. He is the ultimate hero because he represents an entire society’s savior, rather than trying to extract vengeance or prove worth.”
”But what about Wolverine? Hell, any of the X-Men could fit into my argument here, but we’ll focus on Wolverine,” Lee replies, now smiling himself as he faces Mandy and begins to delve into one of the strangest discussions I’ve been witness to. ”Wolverine and Superman share very few similarities, save for their primary goal being to protect the humans that they don’t fit in with. Wolverine is savage and violent in his approach, he is unforgiving and quick to extract his own brand of justice. Yet still his intention is to protect humans.”
”But those same humans don’t want him to try and protect them like they do for Superman,” Mandy rebuts. ”Marvel’s take on heroes is completely different to DC’s. Marvel portrays humans as a much more fearful group, and we are exactly like that. To have somebody think that they need to protect us is like a slap in the face to us. It’s an insult, and that’s why if a single thing goes wrong the finger is immediately pointed at the person who had enough balls to try and do something. Don’t try and use any Marvel hero to compare with Superman, instead focus on DC. Batman in particular.”
”Batman’s a darker hero, and tends to work from the shadows. People are afraid of him in the same way as they are of the X-Men or Spiderman. He’s shrouded in much more secrecy than Superman,” Lee offers.
”My point exactly. Superman lays it all out on the table. He’s an alien from the planet Krypton and is quite possibly the last of his species. The use of Clark Kent as a disguise is simply to try and understand the people he is protecting, and the gawky and awkward nature of Clark represents his opinion of us. The difference between him and every other hero is that he’s Superman first and foremost. That is who he is, while Batman is actually Bruce Wayne. When people see Batman they see a man dressed up in black leather, with a mask to cover who he really is. Do you see what I’m getting at here?”
”I think so.” Lee nods his head as he thinks for a moment. ”I believe what you’re trying to say is that right now is that I’m Batman. With a mask on my face and tight leather covering my body. Now while that definitely makes you hot, you’d much rather I strip bare and lay everything on the table. Or do you want me to lay you on the table? I’m a little unsure on that.”
”I should’ve known something like that was coming,” she says as she shakes her head.
”Yeah, you probably should’ve. But I’m impressed regardless. I should call up Ms. Fiona Fraser and ask her to reprint the article next week with the added line that “I love Mandy because she can actually see and discuss comic books as a form of literature”. That’s hot Mandy, it really is.” Lee flashes his trademark smile, possibly trying to hint at something to his fiancée. Too bad for this horn-dog that his cell phone has just started ringing. Now if he was having sex while the phone started to ring it’d be acceptable to leave it be, but he can’t ignore the phone just so he can start to have sex. That’s just rude.
”You may want to answer that,” Mandy says as-a-matter-of-factly.
”Oh really?” he asks sarcastically as he gets up and heads towards the sound of the ringing from a table a few feet behind the sofa. ”See I thought I could leave it ringing allowing us to bob our heads to the catchy tune of The Kook’s “Naïve” and whoever is trying to get a hold of me could jive in their own house to Chamillionaire, no matter how important their purpose in ringing me is.”
”Where would you be without me then?” she replies as she walks past where Lee is, leaving him with a quick pat on the ass before disappearing into another room. Left alone, Lee finds his phone underneath the clutter that litters the table. He puts the phone to his ear and presses the magical button that would have the ancient Incas in awe as he can now hear a voice on the other side. OMG!
”Shelly? To what do I owe this pleasure?” Unfortunately Leroy is not psychic. Instead the wonders of caller I.D. informed him of who the caller was.
”Hey Lee. What’s your schedule like for now?” a shaky voice asks over the line. It’s shaky not because of nervousness or anything along those lines, but rather because of the reception and the fact that us eavesdroppers are trying to listen in to a phone conversation that isn’t on speaker phone.
”Until I hear about what the planned future is for the XWF, my schedule’s all clear. Why do you ask?” Lee replies as he walks back towards the couch and drops down onto it, resting his head on one of the arms and throwing his legs over the other. It may have been by ears playing tricks on me, but I swear I heard a spring in the couch do something it shouldn’t have done.
”The cops, Lee. They’ve made an arrest in Token’s case. They’ve found the guy who shot Token. He goes on trial starting Monday.”
”And you want me to be there?” Lee interrupts. You can almost hear Shelly nodding on the other end of the line.
”I would greatly appreciate it. And I think Token would too.” Lee scratches his head for a moment, but it doesn’t take him long to answer.
”I’ll have to make a few calls to get permission to fly in time, but of course I’ll be there. I can’t come alone though.” Silence. He doesn’t feel the need to speak Mandy’s name. Despite the resolution of tension between Shelly and himself, he’s still unsure of Shelly’s opinion on Mandy. In a way he hopes for acceptance, because any of you who have been following the story so far will know that both women play important roles in Lee’s life, but at the same time Lee knows to be a little wary. It could be like putting a glowing splint into a test tube of oxygen, the flame would just light back up.
”Mandy will be coming with you,” Shelly eventually acknowledges.
”Is that a problem?” Lee double checks.
”No. Definitely not,” she confirms. ”When can the two of you be here?”
”I don’t really have an answer to that apart from saying as soon as possible.”
”And that’s all I can really ask of you,” Shelly says understandingly. ”So I guess I’ll see you when I see you.”
”Monday at the latest. Take care babe,” he orders.
”Bye Lee.”
”See ya.” Almost on cue as Lee ends his conversation, the incomparable Mandy Freeman wanders back into the room with a sheet of paper in her hand.
”Who was that?” she asks, looking up from the printed piece of paper. Lee hoists himself up so he can see over the back of the couch and looks at Mandy as he replies.
”Shelly,” he says expressionlessly, waiting for Mandy’s reaction. Secretly, he’s a little more comfortable with Mandy’s reaction to Shelly as any problems that could’ve arisen from Lee still keeping in touch with her would’ve been raised during the couple of weeks Lee spent alone in America as he tried to put everything behind him, including a large amount of time alone with Shelly.
”Oh?” Mandy inquires, confirming Lee’s comfort by her relaxed attitude. ”Is there something wrong?”
”Not “wrong” exactly. But we need to head to Ohio for a short while. They’ve found a suspect in Token’s shooting. His trial starts Monday.” Lee tries to read Mandy’s face as he tells her this information. He notices as she is slightly annoyed at the original statement of needing to head back to Springfield, Ohio, but as the explanation comes all signs of opposition vanish and she nods her head.
”Did you say that we’re both going?” she asks, somewhat surprised and needing clarification.
”Indeed I did luv. I’d like you to come with me. Shelly’s fine with it if you’re worried at all about that.” He flashes a quick grin, proud of the thought process that occurred in his mind to find out if Shelly deemed Mandy welcome at the trial.
”I was a little worried, and still am. But I’ll go anyway. I just hope work will understand.” She screws up her face a little, adding even more to her worry.
”Who needs work when you’re in a relationship with Leroy Bruce Stone? I got you covered darlin’.” He winks in confidence.
”It’s more of a boredom thing. But on a different note, how’s the body holding up? You sure you’re up to the task next week after that match on Sunday?”
”I’d have had over a week to recover by then. I may still have a few bruises scattered over the body, but I’m sure I’ll be fine,” he replies, brushing off Mandy’s reservations. “And it’s not like I’m going to get into a swordfight with the dude. I ain’t even gonna get into a gunfight with him. I’ll just let justice be dealt by those who know what they’re doing.”
”Now that’s what I want to hear, because you’re going to need to be in better than top shape in a few weeks time.” She glances down at the paper in her hands as she says this.
”Why do you say that?” She now hands the paper to Lee who lies back down on the couch as he reads it. Mandy leans forward over the couch, resting her arms on the back as she waits for Lee to finish reading. ”So it’s officially back?”
”Very officially. Do you see that main event?” She motions towards the bottom of the page.
”Yeah, I see it. I guess it’s all or nothing there,” he states solemnly.
”You think you can handle it?” Shelly asks, showing less confidence than anyone who knows Lee well should.
”Come on Mandy, what kind of question is that? I’m only facing T Money, Steve Jason and Jem Williams. How hard could it be?” He rolls his eyes and then smirks as he pushes himself up from the sofa, using both his arms to hoist him up closer to Mandy. He kisses her on the cheek, and then again as she turns her face in towards his. “Don’t worry about the match, I got it covered as usual. We better get packing though. Cool?”
”Cool,” she smiles and nods as we leave them to their packing.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006 – Springfield, Ohio
The following is a recorded promotion in association with Lee Stone and the Xtreme Wrestling Federation.
The sun shines through the window of Lee Stone’s home in Springfield, Ohio. Half of his face becomes illuminated as he sits on the foot of his bed and faces the camera. The other half is plunged into darkness like T Money in Kid’s ass. It creates a kind of Two-Face effect for any other comic book buffs out there who would’ve loved the little discussion earlier. On one hand you have Lee Stone, icon in this business. On the other there are the countless ways he lied, cheated and sneak attacked to get to where he is. He’s no dirtiest player in the game, but let’s just say that his career doesn’t exactly sparkle with goodness. Of course he meant well, and that’s even more reason for him to physically appear as two different people. But the linking feature between both sides of his face is in the eyes. They twinkle with arrogance, tell the story of everything that he’s been through, and still somehow appear to be laughing. It’s quite a sight.
”Never fear ladies, Lee Stone ain’t missing. He’s just been busy. You see, unlike some retards whose names “grace” the XWF roster, Lee’s life no longer revolves around this place and the pain and anguish it has caused me. My life is not entirely focused upon trying to outdo the guy next to me. I’m Lee Stone, I don’t even need to outdo anybody. There’s no guy next to me that’s why. There’s no guy in a fifty meter radius from me. I’ve already won the final while the rest of the field is just hitting their top speed. Basically what I’m trying to say is that I’ve been busy, and you all suck. Cool? Of course it is, stupid question.
So from one stupid thing to another, T Money “COME ON DOWN!” First of all ‘killer’, I’m glad you seem to think everybody is afraid of me. Of course you kinda fucked up in the exact same sentence, so any possibility of me not wishing George Michael on you were flushed down the toilet right there and then with the rest of your career. Especially considering you were practically complimenting me before that by expressing your hate for me. I was thinking, “hey, maybe this is a new T Money who isn’t an embarrassment to anybody with darker skin”, but then you go and forget to smack the plural on the number of men who haven’t beaten me. You seem to think you’re in a lonely boat there. Well uh uh pumpkin – and I use that term purely in a derogatory manner – instead you’ve been thrown in a lifeboat after the Titanic sunk. And while Celine Dion’s voice makes me wanna shoot myself, you and the rest of the old, washed-up, half-dead losers and bitches such as Wannabe, 504 Boy, Chcensored, Michael Graves, Nick Nitro and even Christian Connolly become “friendly” in an effort to stay warm. My, what esteemed company you’re in. Hanging out amongst the wolves that feed on the scraps I discard from my table. Is this what the great T Money has become? Well this match sure should be fun.
For real though, it’s in my nature to give credit where credit is due, and T there is some credit due to you. You’ve got me wanting to give you a one on one match. I know you’ve heard the rumors that I may not be sticking around after this match, but trust me, the reason isn’t you. If it was, I’d be hightailing it out of here before Massacre just so I wouldn’t step in the same ring, let alone same cage as you. But I’ma be in Greensboro, mark my words there homie. That alone should be enough to tell you, Stevie J, Jem and any other fucker that wants to credit themselves with possibly running me out of town that if and when I leave, it’ll be on my own terms. And just to be on the safe side, if there is a single person in the fucking world who has an issue with me, feel free to confront me on Monday. That’s an invitation right there.
Now T, if you wanna talk about fear, let’s talk about the thing you should be expecting me to bring up. You running like you’re Forest Gump. Shit you almost matched Asafa Powell’s world record. If you weren’t such a bitch I’d actually be impressed. The only thing I see now that runs faster than the way you did is your mouth and all that verbal diarrhea that keeps pouring out of it. What’s that shit you said about this could be my biggest win ever? Nigga the exact same can be said about you. Steve Jason still gets given more credit than the rest of us in this match, despite the fact that the three of us combined make up a large portion of his entire XWF loss record, especially out of those losses that occurred while he was “the best”. Then you got Jem Williams who… well… actually I don’t know what the fuck he’s done lately, but then there’s me: Lee Stone. T Money’s bane. If you could finally beat me it’d be the greatest achievement you’ve ever done. But even then buddy, I’d still be one up on you. You see, Lee Stone is the real deal. Even when you dominated the Universal Title division, and I’ll admit that you did exactly that, you still struggled to win in tag competition. Even if you weren’t the one pinned, it’s still another loss on your record. And that’s one of the many differences between the two of us. You see, I win no matter what the match type is. And notice that I used present tense in that last sentence.
I’ma apologize to you and the rest of the XWF right now. From the bottom of my heart, I’m sorry for making the XWF die. I’m deeply sorry that there wasn’t enough talent to make me try hard enough. I truly am sorry that you all sucked so much that I didn’t even have to try very hard at all to demolish every single person I came in contact with. Now there ya go T, there’s that whole “Lee killed the XWF” line dealt with. Please try to come at me with some more original stuff next time. Please try to come at me with at least one decent reason as to why you’re going to beat me. Don’t just say it’s going to happen. Prove it to me. Because T, this is the biggest flaw in your overused “Lee Stone is trying to be like me” line. You spout off a whole lot of metaphors an insults, while I take it a step further and actually make it relevant. I point out the flaws in what you’re saying. I stand here and tell you that the whole “I’m going to beat you because you’re gay” shit didn’t work for you before, and I ask you what the fuck makes you think it’s going to work now? You’ve just peeled back the plastic on an old product, wrapped it up again and repackaged it with a few new insults that basically say the same thing. Now I know it gets hard to come up with something new, but when you fail once you should go straight back to the drawing board imbecile.
But then again, I guess I’m a bit of a hypocrite saying that. I’m still spewing the same old shit, but it’s still working for me. I’m still winning senorita. And the reason I’m still winning is because nobody has managed to counteract what I say. Don’t flatter yourself either T. You are not my biggest challenge yet. There’s sixteen losses on my XWF record, and as you know, ain’t a single one of them are to you. Now maybe you gave me a little extra incentive to get the fuck up and shove my boot down your throat, but once again you’re not the only person to fit into that category. You’re about as unique as a gay joke, so it’s no wonder you keep using them. I’m getting married you fucking moron, and I swear if you try to say that’s just a cover for my secret relationship with Christian Connolly then everything I say about you’re fall from grace would be proven 100% true. First of all, if me and C2 had a secret relationship, how the fuck would you know about it? That wouldn’t make it a secret dumbass, because we both know damn well that you’d be about the last person either me or C2 would tell any secrets to. And secondly, in case you missed the part where I leapt from a ladder in the middle of the ring, and flew to the outside driving C2 headfirst into an unconscious state, I’ll use this time to remind you of what happened and why. Because me and C2 aren’t exactly the best of friends right now. The green-eyed monster came knocking at C2’s door and he thought it would be a neat idea to try to fix what wasn’t broken… me.
Now since everything you say seems to revolve around one question in particular, let’s address that right now. What did Lee Stone do as the Universal Champion? You mean aside from running you out of town, right? You mean aside from being the reason that the Roster Split was reverted back to the elite/intermediate/beginner form as opposed to the equality of Massacre and Anarchy, just so my matches would maybe last more than five minutes? You mean aside from being booked against every single champion on the same show as me, as soon as they won their title? You mean aside from finally evening my score against Steve Jason? You mean aside from beating the joke of a person that somehow the fans deemed the best shot at beating me? You mean aside from getting a large number of the roster worked up just because I said the Goths were coming? You mean aside from fucking with each and every one of their minds just so that I could get some sort of a challenge? You mean aside from holding the entire XWF in the palm of my hand? Well, I guess I did nothing.
Seriously though, you need to yank your head out of your ass T. I know I’m not a legend, but you’re not a legend either fuckface! The only person who has been labeled a legend in this match is Steven Alexan-bitch Jason. And let me bring something else to you’re attention. Until you beat Dynamic Dynamite, what the fuck had you done? When did you become a big name? When did the entire XWF stand up and take notice when you were named Star of the Month? Don’t bother answering that because it’s rhetorical. I got you’re answer here… when you made it to the Universal title! That is one enormous hole in your story T. Everything you say about me can be straight up applied to you. Me on the other hand, everybody noticed me as the Canadian Champion. I didn’t need to be anywhere near the Universal Title to have everybody speaking my name. That was what made my career. That was what got me my first Universal Title shot. And this should really carve away at your ego because guess what, Steve Jason and Jem Williams both played huge parts in the making of my career, when I didn’t even know your god damn name, pussy.
So there it is, another flaw in T’s attempts to be classed in any category even remotely similar to the one I’m in. Another flaw in his story that I have tried to become him. Let me ask you this Tyron, why the fuck would I want to be like somebody who has never EVER beaten me? It makes no sense. Just think back, right back to our first contact. My little warning message to the XWF after finally deciding to stop fucking around with my life and finally come and take what was mine. I called you out right then. My ego was around right there. My ego was around when I went up against Dynamic Dynamite in the match that sent me packing in the first place. My ego was around when I called out any former Universal Champion in an effort to make a name of myself, only to have it answered by a returning Jem who I beat. Now just because I insult somebody does that mean I wanna be you? What you trying to lay a copyright on insulting people? You gonna try to make it so nobody can ever call anybody a homo unless they get your permission? You gonna become the king of the homos? Oh wait… you already are that.
It’s elementary faggot. To bad you never even made it to grade school. But I pray to God or Allah or Tupac or whoever you “hoodrats” pray to, that they can give you some sort of sense to not come at me with the same dumb shit. I don’t have the balls? Nigga you killed me and that Thursday I went to Anarchy which wasn’t even my show, stepped into the ring and had it announced that I’d be facing you at Lord of the Ring. You were nowhere in fucking sight. In fact, the first time you ever came into contact with me without a friend at your side, I won. I know you’ll bring up the Helldome here but I’m talking about sneak attacks and everything. Never was it one on one between the two of us. Always the three of you Poodle bitches coming over to Massacre and taking out the Vigilantes when they weren’t in full force. So much for you having more balls. And as for being smarter… well if I did less to earn a title shot, yet still got one… well shit I must’ve played Jonathyn Brown like a fiddle. And I don’t mean fiddle with him while we play like they do in your “ghetto”. I would’ve pulled more strings to get that title shot than when I was opening the curtains for the show. Oh I bet you liked that joke. And I got one more joke for you. What does “fuck” plus “you” equal? Yeah, that’s right… you know the answer.
Now Jem Williams. Captain Neutral. Mr. I Don’t Wanna Hate Anybody. Maybe it’s just me, but I’m amused as hell by the fact that while Steven and T are on the top of my “slap you in the face” list, everything I’ve accomplished so far all stems from one victory… over you. Over a year it’s been since we stepped into the ring against each other. And it’s even longer to find our only singles confrontation. The week before that match I demanded a match against a former Universal Champion. I really wasn’t expecting that match to be against the returning Jem Williams. I didn’t really think Jon Brown had the heart to book me against somebody who had actually accomplished something. I thought I’d get one of them joke champs like Fred L or Bigg Rigg. Yeah, I said it fucker, Bigg Rigg ain’t worthy of being a legend, he’s a fucking joke. But Jem, it was you I faced, and just as I said then, it was you I was going to beat. I almost feel sorry for you. I mean, for Fred or Rigg to lose a match against somebody way down the card, it’d be a common thing, but for the great Jem Williams to do that… well surely that would’ve been a sign that either Jem ain’t the man he once was, or that this guy talking big can walk just as big. Turns out both were true.
Where have you been since that fateful day Jem? What have you done? One Tag Team title reign and one World? Is that it? Come to think of it, you can actually thank me for you even getting that far. If it wasn’t for me stomping the shit out of you, Stevie J wouldn’t have taken pity on your sorry ass and once again reformed the Unkillables. Of course, he accidentally further boosted my ego at that point by allowing me the ability to say that I’m the reason the Unkillables were forced to reunite, but we can’t expect Steven to think that far ahead. And then if I hadn’t stomped BoonDock Saint so badly that the people felt sorry for him and wanted to see me do it again, then you would’ve had the unpleasant opportunity to face me at Snow Job, where I would’ve proceeded to once again make you wish you went to college so you’d have something to fall back on after I break you in half. But you can thank me later Jemmy-Poo. Because we’re getting down to business here, and I’m in the business of ass-whooping.
I can’t remember what my last match was before the XWF closed, which is one of the reasons that I became interested in at least one more match here. But what I do remember, is that the match that was supposed to be scheduled for the next Anarchy involved a certain Universal Champion named Lee Stone and his perennial under-achieving sidekick Christian Connolly teaming up in their dominant form against the lovely albeit notoriously promiscuous Tyger Lilly and the newly crowned Jem Williams in a match that was designed purely around Lee Stone. It was designed to test what the deal was between Lilly and myself at that time, and also to continue the trend where any newly crowned champion on Anarchy would be put up against me in an effort to try and find some sort of competition for me. This match had potential to be amazing, especially with C2 even having a little bit of history with Lilly and a whole lot with yourself, so all parties involved were going to be in a war zone. And such is fate that the war never took place. Yet here the two of us are. About to enter another war. And the question I ask you now is a little overused as of late in the wrestling business, but it is extremely fitting… are you ready?
Are you, Jem Williams, ready to put our 1 – 1 standstill on the line and potentially lose any chance of ever having credibility as a main event player again? I mean, losing to me is fine because everybody does it, but what about losing to SJ? Could you go back to those times? I sure as hell would hate to once again be on the level lower than Steven and I know that given your competitive nature and past history with the man, you’d be feeling the exact same way. Or here’s some real food for thought. What if you were to lose to the man who has done jack shit for the last eight or so months? The man who has absolutely no reason to have an ego, yet I let him do so because even without reason I still did the same. What if you lose to T Money? The dude is struggling just as much as you are for credibility. If either one of you happens to pin the other, well by God the loser is gonna slide down the ladder quicker than T ran away. I guess that’s where you can take comfort though, as I have every intention of being the man to eliminate both of you.
But what about Steve Jason? What about The Stinger? Well buddy, don’t think for a moment that I’ve forgotten you, I’ve just been saving you for last. Because while T comes first like the opening match of the card – the worst in every aspect of the word – and Jem fills in the middle because his own indifferent nature makes it damn hard to be anything but indifferent to him, you Steven are the main event. T has to beat me at least three times to be able to say he’s better than me, you can possibly lay that claim now however. Because if we follow the way T would like it and only take into account one-on-one matches, I’m still one up on him. I’m one up on Jem too. But you’ve got the advantage over me there, even if your buddy Judas was to blame. Motherfucker still owes me an apology about that, but I believe it’d be safe to assume that ain’t ever going to happen, and you weren’t too happy with only being able to put me down thanks to him of all people.
And thus the story between us unfolds a new chapter. I’ve never been hateful towards you, despite what some past actions may suggest. The past between us needs to be looked at through my eyes to really understand what it was all about and why there has always been animosity between us. Part of it can be attributed to immediately wanting to take a few shots at you simply for nationality reasons, but that’s all in good nature. Take a look at the last Rugby World Cup for example. A large number of New Zealander’s threw their support behind Australia to take out England for quite a few reasons. The first being to uphold the view that Southern Hemisphere Rugby is stronger, the second being an immense dislike for “Mr. Golden Boot” Jonny Wilkinson, the third being because I have a sneaky feeling that New Zealand would be the team that would hold the most wins over Australia in history, and then there’s the most powerful reason of all… Anzac Day. I don’t need to explain it to you the meaning behind that statement, and anybody else interested can research it on their own, but that’s the one reason that I’ve been unable to place you in the hate or even strongly dislike section of the people I know.
So where does that place you? Well that’s the question we’ve both always tried to answer. We’ve been on both sides of the fence and never really found a place that’s comfortable. And again it seems like we’re slipping back onto opposite sides. And for once Steven, it’s not my fault. Instead it’s yours for being a complete douchebag and dare I say… a knob. See, I actually had somewhat of a positive opinion on you after the last time we talked, but then you had to go and say some dumb shit like you’re trying to be T Money or something. First of all slapper, you want to tell me to try some original jokes on you? Here’s a neat idea Monsieur Hypocrite, before you tell me to stop dropping animal names like I’m touring Australia Zoo and hanging with Steve Irwin, how about you stop making jokes about my country. Then we’ll see what you have left in your arsenal. But frankly Steven, don’t actually do that. This is what amuses me about the battle of words and wits that we so often delve into. It’s more fun this way, and I know for a fact that if you stopped mentioning sheep and Lord of the Rings and whatever else is floating around in your twisted Platypus-pussy ass, you wouldn’t be able to laugh much at all when talking about me. Because you’re not laughing at me in the same way both of us laugh at T Money, he’s the personification of a joke, you just make jokes about me in the same way as I do. So please Steven, don’t come at me with that attitude, because you’re just as guilty as I am and that’s the way I prefer it to be.
I guess you’ve made your choice though and have instead chosen to take T Money’s pathetic course of action and try to imply that I’m gay. Well if the ring on my fiancée’s finger isn’t enough proof of the opposite then how about the lack of make-up on my dressing table? On that note, how about the lack of a freaking dressing table at all? The only time I can recall that I’ve worn makeup was a drunken incident involving an old girlfriend, which while being extremely funny is also a little more embarrassing than what I’m willing to elaborate on. And as for being Maybelline-sponsored? Dude… you’ve used that one before. At least I mix up the words when I bring up your animal-loving tendencies. Maybe I’ll call you a koala-fucker, or a wombat-lover, or maybe I’ll throw it in the middle of your name and introduce you as Steve “Let Me Hop In That Kangaroo’s Pouch And Suckle Like I’m A Baby Roo” Jason. But I’m quite sure you’ve actually said “Maybelline-sponsored” before. And you have the nerve to call me unoriginal. You need to take a look in the mirror buddy, and after the initial ear-piercing girlish scream you get at seeing how butt-freaking-ugly you are, you’ll see a very flawed individual.
But turn that frown upside down Steven, because this Monday you get the chance to step inside a cage with Leroy Bruce Stone and potentially sneak one extra win ahead of me in our tally. And don’t for one second think that I’ve gone soft. To make that assumption would be fatal, and the fact that you’ve even considered that does not bode well in your favor. I’ve taken a step back and examined this whole situation in a little more detail, and what I’ve come up with is that we’ve practically switched roles. There you are, doing absolutely anything you deem necessary to get the job done and the point across. And here I am, trying to uphold some sort of order in this place. Trying to establish who’s got what motivations and why they think that way. I’m the good guy now and that realization – to borrow a line from Jem – actually scares the bejesus out of me.
Think about it Steven, since when did The Avenger, who stood for all that is right, deem it necessary to spill blood when it was much easier to do it another way. You’re Steve Jason, supposedly one of the greatest wrestler’s of our time, possibly ever… and yet you’d rather give Judas exactly what he wants by making this thing personal? I know that sound silly coming from me, but I just thought that you’d rather beat Judas, one-on-one in a wrestling match to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt, that without weapons, enormous falls, fire, water, blah blah blah. Maybe I’m just going crazy though. Maybe the great Steve Jason has a plan. Or maybe, just maybe I don’t see the need for excessive violence. I think you hit the nail right on the head actually Steven. I’m definitely not the same Lee Stone who beat you twice, nor am I the man who you beat. And if you’re still the same man you were back then, I pity you. Because Steve, I go out there each and every week, knowing damn well that I’m better than the rest of the pathetic excuses for athletes, no longer needing to risk my body unnecessarily. Would that approach piss some people off? Why yes it would, and I expect you, T and Jem to jump all over me there. But I’d rather focus on the W in ‘XWF’ than the X. Because I have people who would die right along with me if they were forced to sit through a repeat performance of the Helldome. I can’t do them, and I don’t need to.
Don’t get me wrong though Steven. Jem and T, the two of you need not despair either. This is still Lee Stone you’re facing after all. Even with this mentality I still leaped willingly leaped some twenty feet through the air to crash into the guard rail, while still winning the match. You’re not facing a toned down version of Lee Stone, you’re facing a smarter version. A version that sees right through everything you fuckers say and exposes you as the frauds you are. A version who asks you Steve, exactly how did I screw up the ‘Goth’ invasion when it never even took fucking place? And I’ve also revealed that it was a fucking joke all along. Hell, I was never that concerned with it back at the time it was happening, as can be seen through my preference to taunt you with no longer being ‘the man’ than actually go and do anything about Cyren and Shane “I’ve Lost My Face” Carver. I’m a version who asks T Money just what the fuck does he think he’s going to accomplish by beating me once when I already have two victories over him, and he’ll need three victories to gain the upper hand. I’m a version who asks Jem Williams to please step up to the god damn plate that he once was king of, and swing like Barry motherfucking Bonds, steroids or not. Bitches and gentlefucks, you’re now facing a Lee Stone who is still fully aware of every single god damn sacrifice that he has ever had to fucking make to get anywhere in life, let alone wrestling! You’re now facing a Lee Stone who still has a fucking convoy of trash trucks, not full with waste-of-life retards like T Money, but rather full of the same desire to be the greatest and pure determination to get the fuck up whenever he’s knocked down! But the difference is, this Lee Stone now has the undeniable ability to say that when it comes to pure wrestling skills, there ain’t a damn person that can beat me. I am still The World’s Greatest, and if you want to make it to The Future, you better learn that quick. From the bottom of my heart, I ask you to have a very bad day. Peace fucktards…”
End the bloody feed.