Roman Stone, 6'0", 196#, made three wrestling videos with Can-Am Productions, all of them within the space of a year against one and only one opponent, his cousin Paul Perris. I, for one, do not know whether the two men were actually related, but if they weren't cousins, they ought to have been. Perris, of course, is a regular part of the Can-Am stable, with over 30 titles to his credit. But, for me ... and for at least three other guys I know ... , Roman became immortal in just the three fights he did in the mid-1990s, and Perris's best work was up against him.
Before he was redubbed "Roman Stone," the devastatingly handsome fighter was called "Jaime Cutler" or, variously, "Jamie Cutler," but he became "Roman" before anyone at Can-Am could settle on the spelling as Spanish or British. "Roman" suited him better than either name, and "Stone" pretty well described the firmness of my cock every time I saw him in the ring or the oil pit, the venue he proudly claimed as his own in the classic Kick-Ass Bodybuilder Feud 1 (was there ever a 2? or was the incredible perfection of this one showing enough to seal the series off at 1?)
He wasn't a terrific fighter, but he could move ... and grunt ... and apply a wicked bear hug ... not to mention how much he seemed to enjoy glowering like Jean-Claude Van Damme. He was perfect fantasy material, and in all three fights he seemed ready to commit to the fantasy 110 percent. He was like a Frank Frazetta painting come to life. I figure, if the man's still around, he's in his late thirties, early forties. Still looking magnificent, I hope, with thighs I'd like to punish ... and, in turn, feel squeezed against my throbbing temples as payback. Roman, wherever you are, please call. The old oil pit is waiting.