A Day on the Phone

**Scene opens to a dimly lit hotel on the upper east side of Manhatten. As the camera takes full view of the entry way, a purple ferrari comes screeching to a hault in front of the Valet Parking ciosk. As the twenty something stoner parking attendant makes his way around to the driver's side of the Italian sports car, the door swings open and Rob Osbourne staggers , nearly falling, out of the front seat. Osbourne, vicorious in a very close, highly contested battle of the titans, went on to face Scott Deville after edging his brother at S.A.W. Defiance less than twelve hours ago. He still has the fresh stains of lipstick on his cheek and the very staunchy aroma of imported Danish beer on his breath. His clothes reek of Marijuana, and his shirt is untucked. He scratches his unshaven face and tosses the attendant the keys. As he starts to walk towards the door, the attendant revs the engine. Osbourne turns, in nearly stop animation around him, pulling off his trademark purple Oakley frogskin shades and yells ....**

NRO: HEY JACKASS!!!! Easy on the gas, and it sticks in third.

**Osbourne squints as dawn rears its ugly head, bringing forth the reality that another pointless day has awoken in this futile mass of clay, water and pestilence they call New York. Osbourne staggers past the counter in the hotel lobby and stumbles onto the elevator. Moments later, the ding of arrival awakens Osbourne, who has briefly passed out on his exuberant elevator ride. The door opens and a ton of SAW fans swarm him for his autograph. He signs a few and then attempts to quiet the mob.**

NRO: Listen, I haven't been to bed yet, but I swear to God, if the rest of you come to the arena this weekend and stay an hour or two later, then I will give each and every one of you the first official autograph of Rob Osbourne, SAW World Champion, but right now, I need to go have a few Nitemare's of myself.

**NRO swipes his room key and sides in the door shutting it quickly behind him. He flips on one light, on the bed side table and starts undressing. He heads to the bathroom and takes what appears to be a pure Heineken piss. After several relieving moments, he heads to the counter in the kitchen and pulls out a tin "Nitemare" lunch box from the EWA. He snaps the clip and opens the lunch box to reveal it as really being a stash box. He twists up a quick pinner. Nothing hard, just enough to help him drift off to the land of dreams. After a few puffs he lays back, and just stares at the ceiling. Suddenly, thoughts come to mind of the days of the first NCW run, when he first met the tag team known as "Degradation." He giggles in a pot induced flashback of the day Vincent and Donovan strolled into his office and made themselves at home. Suddenly, as if in a scene from a movie, the phone rings. He answers it, and it his brother, "The Daydreamer" Chris Osbourne**

NRO: Hey shit for brains, you get back to your room ok? DCO: Yeah, it's all good. Look, I know what you're thinking about right now. Beleieve it or not, Rob, I have been there. I was hit by a motorcycle, a semi, a hummer, and dropped off of an 18 foot scaffold. I know what it's like not to feel loved NRO: Yeah, I guess you've grown up alot little brother. I don't know man, I've just lost the fire again. I mean, here lately I have been like a god dmaned woman in menopause, one second I'm hot inside, the next I'm cold as ice. I mean, I guess a little has to do with the whole IoA and MVP thing. But come on, he's not the first nickle and dime piece of trash to dog me out, and he, like all the rest of them will never get the last word on me, never. But that doesn't help me replace the fire inside. I need something.....I need something big Chris. I don't know how much longer I can do this, realisticly. Most guys would he more than satisfied with what I have done, but for some unknown reason, I just can't seem to walk away for good. DCO: It's in the blood brtoher, I can't fight it, you can't fight it, and Ricky can't fight it. Rob, you want to know what it is you long for? You want me to tell you why you keep coming back to the same old bullshit time in and time out? You do this because it is for you what it is for me. This is the only thing about our father we ever knew. This is how we stay close. I mean good lord, the man had an affair and fathered another child...he kept the fact that he had another son, not much younger than us from us for years!!! We long to know something about him, amd for people to say, "there goes Joe Osbourne's boy....his dad sure would be proud." I know Rob....why do you think I am here? I see, now that I have grown up a little bit, more than you I may even be willing to wager, I see that the thing we should be worrying about in't how many titles we win, or how much money we have. As the sons of one of the greatest performers and workers in this business, ever, it should be our mission to restore the dignity and values to the business. We should take advantage of the fact that we were blessed with God given talent and do something about it. But no, what have you and I both done our whole careers? Tave advantage of everything, and take everything for granted. Rob, do you remember that vision you told me you had when you were in the hospital? NRO: The one with dad? Yeah, I remember. That wasn't a vision, I'm telling you it was real. DCO: I doubted you at first. Then I talked to a buddy of mine who works at Vanderbilt's Dream Study department. He said it is possible for the dream world and the real world to cross paths, but only one, very rare occasion. NRO: And what is that? DCO: Divine Intervention. NRO: What? You are trying to tell me that I woke up with sand in my eyes because God transported me back in time? Are you saying that even though my body was unconcious in 2002 in a hospital in Asia, I was in New Mexico thirty years ago? Come on man, who ya gonna call? Ghostbusters? Get real. DCO: Listen to me damnit! I called the guy this morning, because unlike you, my memories aren't eaten alive by that joint you are probably smoking right now. I recalled, strangely, that it was Donovan and Vincent who attacked you in the hospital and sent you into a code blue. It was them who put you out deep enough to have that vision, that encounter with dad. I told the guy all about it, and he said that your inner strife is driving you, evident by your lifestyle and desire, at whatecer costs, to be on top of whatever you do. Your longing to be the best at everything has helped you, but it will also be your downfall. NRO: Wow, no shit? Keep going... DCO: Ok then. He told me that the vision was more than likely real. That dad was saying those things to you to send you a message that only God knows the answer of. Rob, the entire ironic situation, it all means this. In order for you to return to the top, the right way. Is for you to stop drinking and smoking pot. You have to train, You have to become your father. Would dad have been caught dead in some of the places you took me last night? Hell no. This is dad's only  way, from beyond the grave, to tell you that this is your last shot. Blow this one, and it's over.  You have been placed in a position you have never been in Rob, no matter who else you deny it to, I know, for the first time since you faced Pledge at Superpop in the EWA, you're not only nervous...you're scared. NRO: Well thank you for the analyitcal disection Professor Osbourne, but I'm not scared, not of Torigianni, not of Hillard, not of anyone. The only person I fear is me. DCO: Good, because you're the one that will beat you man. I hope you see the light before its too late.

**Rob hangs up the phone with a somber look on his face. After a few minutes of lying there watching the sun peer through the curtains, he dials the phone number of one of his opponent's in the Triple Threat match for the SAW World Championship, Donovan Torigianni**

Donovan: Yeah... Rob: What�s up? I was seeing if you had gone to bed yet. Donovan: (laughing) Gone to bed? Hell, I�ve been up since five. Just got back from running. What about you? Rob: Oh, I�m getting ready to hit the sack now. Donovan: I knew it! I was planning on calling you later. Rob: Oh, yeah? So what�s going on? Donovan: Oh, not much. Just wanted to see how scared you are about this match. Rob: (Taken back by the comment.)Me? Scared? Gimme a fuckin� break, Guido. (Laughing) I'm gonna run like you like a hot knife through butter. Donovan: (jokingly) I�m sure you will you sleep deprived has been. Rob: Oh, you�ll see. You�ll see completely when you�re lying on your fat back for the pin! Donovan: Keep holding your breath, Robbie. I personally plan on seeing to it that you walk out of there in as bad of shape as Jimmy. Rob: Oh! Oh! You fucking fuck! That was low! Donovan: Anyway, how about a friendly little pre-match dinner on Friday night, you, Hillard, and me? Rob: Hey, that sounds like a great idea. Tell you what... my treat. You pick the restaurant and Hillard picks the "beverages" for the evening. I'll take care of everything else, just like i always do. Donovan: Cool then. I'll give Hillard a call later and see if he's game. Now go get some sleep, dumb ass. Rob: Yeah, yeah. Later! Donovan: Bye.

** As he hangs up with his pleasant conversation with TDDT, NRO rolls over and puts his head under the pillow. Suddenly, he is in the ring with Donovan and Hillard. They are obviously late in the match, as all three men are pouring sweat, Hillard is bleeding, and Rob is limping. At first he thinks he is just dreaming, recalling the recent conversation with Donovan, then he gets nailed from behind. As he lifts his head from the canvas, he sees Donovan hitting the Devestation on Hillard, his mind quickly scrambles and he leaps to his feet, Donovan covers Hillard, Osbourne kicks Donovan in the back of the head. Donovan struggles to get to his feet after the cheap shot. KIck to the gut By Osbourne. . He grabs his friend, Badd Dream!! Badd Dream!!! Badd Dream!!! He covers, but the referee is standing behind him; suddenly the Nitemare knows it was the ref who clocked him. just as the referee steps forward Osbourne sits straight up in bed, pouring sweat. He looks around at the room , shakes it off and heads to the bathroom for another Heineken Relief piss. He glances at the clock and sees that it is 2:00 p.m. He frantically starts the shower and runs to the other room and grabs his suitcase. He pulls out a few neccesities and heads to the bathroom. About an hour later, the Nitemare emerges from the bathroom, looking completely different. He sits down and rolls a j. As he lights it he looks up and starts talking to the nothingness that fills the room, "the Heineken, I will give up, but not the herb, you even smoked it old man, so let's not get hypocritical!" Moments later he decides he will make one last phone call before heading to the gym**

NRO: Hey jackass...did I wake you up? VOICE: No moron, I have been up since five, I spent the night at my ma's. Saw D this morning. You're fucked man. Haha NRO: Thanks Vincent. Actually man, that's what I was calling about. Listen you know me and D worked out the "rough spots" right?  mean, we are cool again. But what about you and me? VINCENT: Rob, the only reason i flipped your bed was because meat head made me. You know you're the man dog! What's up? NRO: I don't know man, but I feel the way, all of a sudden, the way I did after you guys roughed me up. Man, I need advice. There is no footage of Donovan in singles matches ecept what little bit I saw of him last night when he ripped Jimmy apart. I need advice on how to approach him. You are his brother, and you have sparred with him since you were 9 months old for christ's sakes! VINCENT: 6 months old, but close. Yeah, I can help you. But Donovan is too technical to talk about on the phone. Meet me at Mickey's Gym on 131st and broad. I'll be in the back. NRO: What time dumbass? VINCNET: NOw, come on Rob, get your ass over here, You called my cell idiot. God damn, like my momma says, you eat too many of those dum dums, you become the dum dum. NRO: Whoa paizan, chill the jets. VINCENT: Look, you want my help or not? Face it Rob, you're a desperate man, and I'm the only chance in hell you have of getting past Don. NRO: Yeah.....I'm afraid you're right. VINCENT: Then why the hell aren't you on your way? NRO: Say no more.

**Scene fades as Osbourne grabs his keys and duffle bag and heads to the lobby. FTB**