Post by Mike Laszlo on Nov 24, 2011 21:28:59 GMT -6
It’s been a week since you heard from or about Mike Laszlo. Well, that’s because he’s been regrouping. A loss to “The Ace” while dealing with personal problems has taken its toll on the man. Now that the whole Raven situation is put behind him, what was next? Was it time to finally be able to regain focus? He’s lost to Jason Evans and The Ace in his past two matches while dealing with his personal issues, but now there were no personal issues. There was nothing in his way of regaining what he believed was his not too long ago, his title of…THE BEST!
So this week, live, Pay Per View, Breaking Point. Yours truly is opening the show against both Seth Evans and a man named Doc. Unfortunately, for the ears of those who were forced to listen…myself included, Seth Evans was first to speak on the matter and to be quite honest, when it came to me, he’s said the same damn thing that everybody else has said over and over and over, and quite frankly, I’m sick of hearing it. “I don’t know you.” Really? That’s it? Great preparation there boys. Hell, if we’re going to play the stupidity game…I don’t know you either. If we’re going to play the realism game however…I don’t care to know you. I don’t want to know your strengths or your weaknesses. I don’t want to have to worry about what you are and are not good at. No, all I want to do Seth…Doc…is step through those ropes and do what I know I’m good at. I want to step through the ropes this Sunday and beat the two of you into oblivion. I want to make the two of you realize who the hell I am once and for all.
This Sunday live on Pay Per View, I’m not grasping at the end of the rope. This Sunday, I’m not grasping at straws. This Sunday, I’m walking into breaking point, and I can assure you that I am walking out victorious.
Title: Just When You Thought The Drama Was Over PT 1: The Call
Location: Cleveland, Ohio
Time: 1:04PM Eastern Standard Time
It’s been a week and the whole dramatic sequence of events that was Raven were now over. No more pretending to love someone. No more plots. No more stupidity. At least that’s what I thought. There I sat in a nice hunter green recliner, feet kicked up and for all intents and purposes, I was hanging out. On the floor past the coffee table to my left, Britney, my daughter, was playing with her dollhouse. On the couch next to me was Lindsay, my deceased wife’s sister of whom I had adopted, on her phone doing God knows what with all the “Apps” they have on these damn phones nowadays. I had the remote in my hand and was flicking through the local channels on my television when I came across the Cleveland Browns football game on channel three. I looked at the corner of the screen and saw that there were three second left in the game, and the Jacksonville Jaguars were on the goal line. The Browns had the lead fourteen to ten, but it really did look in jeopardy. Browns fans know that things usually don’t go our way, I mean hell according to that one guy on YouTube, Cleveland Browns’ Stadium should be re-named “The Factory Of Sadness” due to the simple fact that everything that goes on there is sad and depressing.
The ball was snapped and the rookie quarterback for Jacksonville moved around in the pocket. He spots his man and hurls the ball in his general direction when the defense reacts. The ball sailed high and the play was ruled an incomplete pass…the game…was over.
Leaning forward in my chair I couldn’t believe my eyes. Something had gone right for the Cleveland Browns. How could such a positive thing happen in Cleveland sports?
Before I could rejoice any longer, the phone rang. Reaching to the table to my left, I picked up the cell phone and answered.
Mike Laszlo: Hello?
At first I couldn’t tell who it was, but then the person was quickly realized.
Voice: Hello Mike.
The voice on the other end of this conversation was none other than my waste of space, no good, left me at a young age father, who from time to time tends to pop in my life at the most inopportune times. This time was out of the blue…what gives?
Mike Laszlo: What do you want?
Mike’s Father: Hear you got a problem?
Mike Laszlo: Huh? No problem. There’s absolutely nothing wrong. As a matter of fact, I fixed a situation and now the only problem I have is you calling me pretending to “care”.
Mike’s Father: I do.
Mike Laszlo: Right and I’m Britney Spears.
Mike’s Father: You do know her.
Mike Laszlo: Shut up. How is it you heard of my so-called problems?
Mike’s Father: I’ve been watching you.
Mike Laszlo: Watching me? That’s a tad disturbing knowing you. What’s the real reason you called me so out of the blue like this. What is it you truly want.
His tone on the other end of the phone went from one of concern, or in my case, fake concern, to one portraying an attitude.
Mike’s Father: Is that all you think I call for? Can’t a father care for his son and his granddaughter?
In response, my own tone escalated, relaying the anger he had just placed within the confines of my head.
Mike Laszlo: Do I really have to answer that? Do I?
He tried hard to fight back on the other end but I was relentless, and he wasn’t getting another word in unless it was with my blessing of silence.
Mike Laszlo: You haven’t given a crap about me for the last eighteen years of my life. You’ve only seen my daughter a handful of times, and you haven’t called me since the last time I bailed you out of one of your ignorant situations. So you bet your ass that’s all I think you care about! You bet your ass that’s the only reason I think you even attempt contact with me! So what is it? What have you gotten into now that’s oh so damn important that you’ve now ruined my weekend?
Mike’s Father: Whatever. I want to meet. Can you at least do me that favor?
Mike Laszlo: When? Where?
Mike’s Father: Thank…
Again I interrupted him.
Mike Laszlo: I didn’t say I’d do it. When and where?
Mike’s Father: Pick a spot. They know all of my normal meeting spots.
Once he said that, I knew he was once again in over his head. He does this to me all the time. He gets in trouble with the wrong people and usually I pay them to leave him alone, or I MAKE THEM!
Mike Laszlo: Why don’t you just come here?
There’s an awkward pause and what sounds like some rustling on the phone as if he were being cautious and looking from side to side, the sound of a passing car breaking up the silence.
Mike Laszlo: Hey? You there?
Mike’s Father: Can’t come there. I don’t want to jeopardize any of you.
Mike Laszlo: You mean other than me. Interesting, yet strange.
Mike’s Father: What?
Mike Laszlo: You actually care for the well-being of others. Meet me at the gym in an hour.
Mike’s Father: On my way.
Before I could say anything else, the call went dead. Hanging up the phone I turn toward Lindsay who must have been startled by the loudness of my voice, and then her interest got peaked.
Lindsay Laszlo: Who was that?
Mike Laszlo: My father.
Lindsay Laszlo: The one you never talk to?
Mike Laszlo: How many father’s do I have?
Lindsay Laszlo: Oh…right. What did he want?
Mike Laszlo: He wanted to meet. You able to watch Britney while I go? Shouldn’t be too long. I can’t stand being in the same room with this man for more than an hour.
Lindsay Laszlo: Sure, no problem.
Mike Laszlo: I’ll be back.
I push the recliner down with my legs and head for the front door. After throwing on the most comfortable shoes EVER…Airwalks, black in color, I head out the door and to the garage. After pressing in the entry code, the door opens and reveals a black, 2007, Z06 Corvette, parked right next to a 2011, Lime Green, Z28 Camaro. Grabbing a set of keys from a hook, I jumped into the Corvette as this is one of the few days I can still drive it in adequate weather and pull out of the garage, closing it behind me. I head for the gym as I said I would. What did I have in store? Who knows?
It doesn’t matter how far away from drama you think you are, it’s always around. It’s kind of like me here in the NCW. I’m always here. It doesn’t matter if my job is on the line. It doesn’t matter if there’s a title on the line. And it doesn’t matter if I’m just beating the hell out of two guys this Sunday just for the simple fact I can. All that matters Seth and Doc, is that I’m always here, and can strike at any time. For your sakes…I hope it’s not this Sunday.
So this week, live, Pay Per View, Breaking Point. Yours truly is opening the show against both Seth Evans and a man named Doc. Unfortunately, for the ears of those who were forced to listen…myself included, Seth Evans was first to speak on the matter and to be quite honest, when it came to me, he’s said the same damn thing that everybody else has said over and over and over, and quite frankly, I’m sick of hearing it. “I don’t know you.” Really? That’s it? Great preparation there boys. Hell, if we’re going to play the stupidity game…I don’t know you either. If we’re going to play the realism game however…I don’t care to know you. I don’t want to know your strengths or your weaknesses. I don’t want to have to worry about what you are and are not good at. No, all I want to do Seth…Doc…is step through those ropes and do what I know I’m good at. I want to step through the ropes this Sunday and beat the two of you into oblivion. I want to make the two of you realize who the hell I am once and for all.
This Sunday live on Pay Per View, I’m not grasping at the end of the rope. This Sunday, I’m not grasping at straws. This Sunday, I’m walking into breaking point, and I can assure you that I am walking out victorious.
Title: Just When You Thought The Drama Was Over PT 1: The Call
Location: Cleveland, Ohio
Time: 1:04PM Eastern Standard Time
It’s been a week and the whole dramatic sequence of events that was Raven were now over. No more pretending to love someone. No more plots. No more stupidity. At least that’s what I thought. There I sat in a nice hunter green recliner, feet kicked up and for all intents and purposes, I was hanging out. On the floor past the coffee table to my left, Britney, my daughter, was playing with her dollhouse. On the couch next to me was Lindsay, my deceased wife’s sister of whom I had adopted, on her phone doing God knows what with all the “Apps” they have on these damn phones nowadays. I had the remote in my hand and was flicking through the local channels on my television when I came across the Cleveland Browns football game on channel three. I looked at the corner of the screen and saw that there were three second left in the game, and the Jacksonville Jaguars were on the goal line. The Browns had the lead fourteen to ten, but it really did look in jeopardy. Browns fans know that things usually don’t go our way, I mean hell according to that one guy on YouTube, Cleveland Browns’ Stadium should be re-named “The Factory Of Sadness” due to the simple fact that everything that goes on there is sad and depressing.
The ball was snapped and the rookie quarterback for Jacksonville moved around in the pocket. He spots his man and hurls the ball in his general direction when the defense reacts. The ball sailed high and the play was ruled an incomplete pass…the game…was over.
Leaning forward in my chair I couldn’t believe my eyes. Something had gone right for the Cleveland Browns. How could such a positive thing happen in Cleveland sports?
Before I could rejoice any longer, the phone rang. Reaching to the table to my left, I picked up the cell phone and answered.
Mike Laszlo: Hello?
At first I couldn’t tell who it was, but then the person was quickly realized.
Voice: Hello Mike.
The voice on the other end of this conversation was none other than my waste of space, no good, left me at a young age father, who from time to time tends to pop in my life at the most inopportune times. This time was out of the blue…what gives?
Mike Laszlo: What do you want?
Mike’s Father: Hear you got a problem?
Mike Laszlo: Huh? No problem. There’s absolutely nothing wrong. As a matter of fact, I fixed a situation and now the only problem I have is you calling me pretending to “care”.
Mike’s Father: I do.
Mike Laszlo: Right and I’m Britney Spears.
Mike’s Father: You do know her.
Mike Laszlo: Shut up. How is it you heard of my so-called problems?
Mike’s Father: I’ve been watching you.
Mike Laszlo: Watching me? That’s a tad disturbing knowing you. What’s the real reason you called me so out of the blue like this. What is it you truly want.
His tone on the other end of the phone went from one of concern, or in my case, fake concern, to one portraying an attitude.
Mike’s Father: Is that all you think I call for? Can’t a father care for his son and his granddaughter?
In response, my own tone escalated, relaying the anger he had just placed within the confines of my head.
Mike Laszlo: Do I really have to answer that? Do I?
He tried hard to fight back on the other end but I was relentless, and he wasn’t getting another word in unless it was with my blessing of silence.
Mike Laszlo: You haven’t given a crap about me for the last eighteen years of my life. You’ve only seen my daughter a handful of times, and you haven’t called me since the last time I bailed you out of one of your ignorant situations. So you bet your ass that’s all I think you care about! You bet your ass that’s the only reason I think you even attempt contact with me! So what is it? What have you gotten into now that’s oh so damn important that you’ve now ruined my weekend?
Mike’s Father: Whatever. I want to meet. Can you at least do me that favor?
Mike Laszlo: When? Where?
Mike’s Father: Thank…
Again I interrupted him.
Mike Laszlo: I didn’t say I’d do it. When and where?
Mike’s Father: Pick a spot. They know all of my normal meeting spots.
Once he said that, I knew he was once again in over his head. He does this to me all the time. He gets in trouble with the wrong people and usually I pay them to leave him alone, or I MAKE THEM!
Mike Laszlo: Why don’t you just come here?
There’s an awkward pause and what sounds like some rustling on the phone as if he were being cautious and looking from side to side, the sound of a passing car breaking up the silence.
Mike Laszlo: Hey? You there?
Mike’s Father: Can’t come there. I don’t want to jeopardize any of you.
Mike Laszlo: You mean other than me. Interesting, yet strange.
Mike’s Father: What?
Mike Laszlo: You actually care for the well-being of others. Meet me at the gym in an hour.
Mike’s Father: On my way.
Before I could say anything else, the call went dead. Hanging up the phone I turn toward Lindsay who must have been startled by the loudness of my voice, and then her interest got peaked.
Lindsay Laszlo: Who was that?
Mike Laszlo: My father.
Lindsay Laszlo: The one you never talk to?
Mike Laszlo: How many father’s do I have?
Lindsay Laszlo: Oh…right. What did he want?
Mike Laszlo: He wanted to meet. You able to watch Britney while I go? Shouldn’t be too long. I can’t stand being in the same room with this man for more than an hour.
Lindsay Laszlo: Sure, no problem.
Mike Laszlo: I’ll be back.
I push the recliner down with my legs and head for the front door. After throwing on the most comfortable shoes EVER…Airwalks, black in color, I head out the door and to the garage. After pressing in the entry code, the door opens and reveals a black, 2007, Z06 Corvette, parked right next to a 2011, Lime Green, Z28 Camaro. Grabbing a set of keys from a hook, I jumped into the Corvette as this is one of the few days I can still drive it in adequate weather and pull out of the garage, closing it behind me. I head for the gym as I said I would. What did I have in store? Who knows?
It doesn’t matter how far away from drama you think you are, it’s always around. It’s kind of like me here in the NCW. I’m always here. It doesn’t matter if my job is on the line. It doesn’t matter if there’s a title on the line. And it doesn’t matter if I’m just beating the hell out of two guys this Sunday just for the simple fact I can. All that matters Seth and Doc, is that I’m always here, and can strike at any time. For your sakes…I hope it’s not this Sunday.
