Post by Mike Laszlo on Sept 23, 2011 10:19:43 GMT -6
I have this friend; you don’t know her so I won’t mention her name. However, a saying that she likes to use…ALL THE TIME…is, “WAAAAAAAAAAIT…What?” It really does pertain to my situation here in NCW. All along you’ve been looking at me from the outside, now, I take you within. I let you see things from my perspective and let me tell you, it’s a hell of a lot different than someone on the outside would imagine. I see things different. I see things not for what they are, but for what they truly can become. So let’s dive in, shall we?
The scene is at night, around midnight-ish. There I stand in an alley, smoke coming up from the grate in front of me, and the only thing really illuminating said alley, is a neon sign about ten feet above my head, bright enough to hit the street twenty or so feet ahead of me, ushering the many folks from the sidewalk toward the entrance of this club. That is where the NCW camera is placed as I await my cue to head through the white, almost glowing smoke. Finally I hear a whistle, my cue. Heading through the smoke I speak to the NCW audience.
Mike Laszlo: Congratulations to one Caleb Lockwood. Your victory over me on Trauma…impressive.
I tried really hard to make that sound as serious as I possibly could, but I’m sure that was all overshadowed by a rather sarcastic tone.
Mike Laszlo: I mean come on, to win in such a flawless manner had to give you that sense of achievement, now didn’t it? I’m sure you used all the athletic ability in the world to make Wes Fox come down the ramp and suspend me for “being late to a few shows” as he put it. So I did, so what. It’s done, over, get over it.
Finally I was past the steam and could be seen by the NCW camera in full view, wearing a plain black t-shirt, and a pair of jeans. Outstretching my arms, I again pander to the NCW audience.
Mike Laszlo: No matter how satisfied you may be Caleb, you know that on your best day, you couldn’t beat me on my worst. The best case scenario for you last week, happened. You won, and because of my “Suspension” didn’t get hurt.
Damn, that sarcasm on the word “suspension” again.
Mike Laszlo: I get it, I really do. I understand why I was suspended. I was suspended for being late to a couple shows, I honestly don’t care. However, what I do care about, is being told before a match, after I’ve made my appearance. You see, for NCW, and being a business man myself I can understand it, it’s all about money. They allowed “Cult of Personality” to hit the sound system. They allowed me to head down to the ring. They allowed me to pander to the fans. Allll so they can make a quick buck off my name. Then they come out and tell me I’m suspended. Essentially, what they did, was use my face, made their money, then kept mine from me, and THAT is what is unappreciated. THAT is what leads to people thinking conspiracy in a major company. THAT is what leads to lawsuits. That will only happen if the matter persists.
Was I mad that they used my likeness, my name, and didn’t pay me for it? You bet your ass. Now though, it’s time to get even.
Mike Laszlo: The name Mike Laszlo, is not a registered trademark of NCW. My likeness, catch phrases, none of it. So the next time it’s used without my permission, there will be a lawsuit, and you can bet your ass, I will own this company.
In case you haven’t noticed already, I have a tendency to digress. I wanted however to turn my attention toward our rather crappy announce team over there on Trauma.
Mike Laszlo: Now that I’m done on that subject, I truly need to address another manner from last week’s show: Wes Fox. Too big for my britches? Really? The only one I see walking around too big for his britches is you. You think you can go around and talk down to whomever you please, but don’t have the balls to back it up physically. You hand down your suspensions, and your fines and leave. You sir, are pathetic.
I really hate authority, really. Even with a passion some would say.
Mike Laszlo: So I have an idea for you “Mr. Fox”.
Like that sarcastic overtone still.
Mike Laszlo: How about you sit in your stupid chair, in your stupid office, like a so-called “professional” and watch as I take on Freakke in front of the live crowd in Washington D.C. I promise “sir” I’ll be there on time. I promise I’ll walk in in a suit and tie, looking all professional. I promise I’ll be the ass-kissing corporate…
You know what?
Damn that. I’ll be on time, but the fact of the matter is, I’m still going to do what I want, when I want to do it. Quite honestly? What are you going to do about it? Fire me? Who cares. I’m the hottest commodity in wrestling today, and if you can’t figure that out, maybe somebody else will use me a bit more beneficially for the both of us.
Stepping out onto the street, the NCW camera turning to follow my every move, as they should, I raise my arm in the air.
Mike Laszlo: TAXI!!
A yellow four door sedan pulls up, “USA TAXI” sprawled across the side panel. I open the door and go to step in, but before I can, I lean in and ask the driver to hold on a second realizing that I forgot one last thing. Closing the door I look back at the camera.
Mike Laszlo: I almost forgot. With all the grievances I have, I really forgot the entire reason that this camera was placed here. Why NCW wanted me here. This Sunday, Verizon Center, Washington D.C., our nation’s capital. I’m on the card. I face Freakke in a one-on-one match up. Freakke, you and I survived a battle royal a couple weeks ago, saving our jobs in the process. This week, at the Pay Per View, there’s one thing on the line…pride. Mine is sky high, and I will not allow a circus freak, no pun intended, to defeat me and stop my rise to the top. Hear me here and now, NCW, listen up. I don’t give a rat’s ass who you are. You could be Freakke, Caleb Lockwood, or Wes Fox and his paper pushing job title, you WILL NOT stop me from reaching the top of this company, and once more proving that I am simply put, THE BEST!
Turning toward the taxi, I open the yellow door again and sit inside as the NCW camera catches one more word from the portal that is my lips.
Mike Laszlo: GO!
Slamming the door shut, the taxi heads off down the street as the scene on the NCW camera fades to absolute darkness.
The scene is at night, around midnight-ish. There I stand in an alley, smoke coming up from the grate in front of me, and the only thing really illuminating said alley, is a neon sign about ten feet above my head, bright enough to hit the street twenty or so feet ahead of me, ushering the many folks from the sidewalk toward the entrance of this club. That is where the NCW camera is placed as I await my cue to head through the white, almost glowing smoke. Finally I hear a whistle, my cue. Heading through the smoke I speak to the NCW audience.
Mike Laszlo: Congratulations to one Caleb Lockwood. Your victory over me on Trauma…impressive.
I tried really hard to make that sound as serious as I possibly could, but I’m sure that was all overshadowed by a rather sarcastic tone.
Mike Laszlo: I mean come on, to win in such a flawless manner had to give you that sense of achievement, now didn’t it? I’m sure you used all the athletic ability in the world to make Wes Fox come down the ramp and suspend me for “being late to a few shows” as he put it. So I did, so what. It’s done, over, get over it.
Finally I was past the steam and could be seen by the NCW camera in full view, wearing a plain black t-shirt, and a pair of jeans. Outstretching my arms, I again pander to the NCW audience.
Mike Laszlo: No matter how satisfied you may be Caleb, you know that on your best day, you couldn’t beat me on my worst. The best case scenario for you last week, happened. You won, and because of my “Suspension” didn’t get hurt.
Damn, that sarcasm on the word “suspension” again.
Mike Laszlo: I get it, I really do. I understand why I was suspended. I was suspended for being late to a couple shows, I honestly don’t care. However, what I do care about, is being told before a match, after I’ve made my appearance. You see, for NCW, and being a business man myself I can understand it, it’s all about money. They allowed “Cult of Personality” to hit the sound system. They allowed me to head down to the ring. They allowed me to pander to the fans. Allll so they can make a quick buck off my name. Then they come out and tell me I’m suspended. Essentially, what they did, was use my face, made their money, then kept mine from me, and THAT is what is unappreciated. THAT is what leads to people thinking conspiracy in a major company. THAT is what leads to lawsuits. That will only happen if the matter persists.
Was I mad that they used my likeness, my name, and didn’t pay me for it? You bet your ass. Now though, it’s time to get even.
Mike Laszlo: The name Mike Laszlo, is not a registered trademark of NCW. My likeness, catch phrases, none of it. So the next time it’s used without my permission, there will be a lawsuit, and you can bet your ass, I will own this company.
In case you haven’t noticed already, I have a tendency to digress. I wanted however to turn my attention toward our rather crappy announce team over there on Trauma.
Mike Laszlo: Now that I’m done on that subject, I truly need to address another manner from last week’s show: Wes Fox. Too big for my britches? Really? The only one I see walking around too big for his britches is you. You think you can go around and talk down to whomever you please, but don’t have the balls to back it up physically. You hand down your suspensions, and your fines and leave. You sir, are pathetic.
I really hate authority, really. Even with a passion some would say.
Mike Laszlo: So I have an idea for you “Mr. Fox”.
Like that sarcastic overtone still.
Mike Laszlo: How about you sit in your stupid chair, in your stupid office, like a so-called “professional” and watch as I take on Freakke in front of the live crowd in Washington D.C. I promise “sir” I’ll be there on time. I promise I’ll walk in in a suit and tie, looking all professional. I promise I’ll be the ass-kissing corporate…
You know what?
Damn that. I’ll be on time, but the fact of the matter is, I’m still going to do what I want, when I want to do it. Quite honestly? What are you going to do about it? Fire me? Who cares. I’m the hottest commodity in wrestling today, and if you can’t figure that out, maybe somebody else will use me a bit more beneficially for the both of us.
Stepping out onto the street, the NCW camera turning to follow my every move, as they should, I raise my arm in the air.
Mike Laszlo: TAXI!!
A yellow four door sedan pulls up, “USA TAXI” sprawled across the side panel. I open the door and go to step in, but before I can, I lean in and ask the driver to hold on a second realizing that I forgot one last thing. Closing the door I look back at the camera.
Mike Laszlo: I almost forgot. With all the grievances I have, I really forgot the entire reason that this camera was placed here. Why NCW wanted me here. This Sunday, Verizon Center, Washington D.C., our nation’s capital. I’m on the card. I face Freakke in a one-on-one match up. Freakke, you and I survived a battle royal a couple weeks ago, saving our jobs in the process. This week, at the Pay Per View, there’s one thing on the line…pride. Mine is sky high, and I will not allow a circus freak, no pun intended, to defeat me and stop my rise to the top. Hear me here and now, NCW, listen up. I don’t give a rat’s ass who you are. You could be Freakke, Caleb Lockwood, or Wes Fox and his paper pushing job title, you WILL NOT stop me from reaching the top of this company, and once more proving that I am simply put, THE BEST!
Turning toward the taxi, I open the yellow door again and sit inside as the NCW camera catches one more word from the portal that is my lips.
Mike Laszlo: GO!
Slamming the door shut, the taxi heads off down the street as the scene on the NCW camera fades to absolute darkness.