Post by Mike Laszlo on Mar 3, 2012 4:20:09 GMT -6
So you think you have it all figured out do you?
Now I got some questions.
How can someone seem to be in so much doubt of themselves and their abilities?
How is it that something that somebody says can sound so right yet be so far off?
It astonishes me.
Really, it does.
You see Mr. Atreyu, everything you said sounded pretty good. You know, that whole shtick about me overlooking you. To the public, that might seem to be the truth. There is however, one little problem with your assessment of the situation…IT’S ALL WRONG!
After hearing your assessment, it got me thinking, and now I see what your problem is, or at least what it would seem to be to those who are able to read between the lines.
Now before I go on, I want you to know that this is not mudslinging, but instead, an assessment of my own. Mudslinging is a person’s opinion on another person or a topic and what I’m about to tell you is a conjecture based on observation and pure facts procured from your own words.
You won our match a few weeks back, and yes, I did congratulate you on your victory in what was a well fought match.
Why did I do that?
I did so because I speak in reality. I don’t live in some fairy tale land as has been suggested. I speak real truths in real time.
The reality of the situation is, the match we had a couple weeks ago was five star in quality. It was a match so high in quality that if duplicated again this Sunday night at Crossroads, could easily steal the show. A few weeks back, as mentioned before…you won.
To the victor go the spoils, in this instance, the congratulations and if you so chose, the bragging rights. Yet, all you have to say of the fact that you won is that I overlooked you? Do you doubt your own abilities that much?
What bugs me is not only the fact that you doubt yourself, but the fact that you believe your own claims that I overlooked you. Atreyu, I put one hundred percent of my athletic ability and intelligence into each and every match that I am apart of, and for you to insinuate that I looked past you to something that isn’t even there, is, well…an insult. Just because you won the match does not mean for one second that I overlooked you. As they say: “That’s why the games are played.” or in our case “That’s why the bouts are fought.”
Now keep in mind, I’m not doubting my own abilities in any way shape or form with what I’m about to say, but anybody on the NCW roster can beat anyone on any given day. If that weren’t the case, and all the NCW brass went off of was what’s on paper, the roster would be much smaller. So this Sunday, when I stand across the ring from you, keep that in the back of your mind, for better…or worse.
====================
Title: Investment Re-Made (Getting Back In)
Location: Las Vegas, Nevada
Time: 3:24 pm Western Standard Time
I had finished with my threats and belittling of Linda Crompton, the Head of Operations at the Montecito Hotel and Resort, not but an hour earlier, and boy did it feel good. Now that the threats were in place and the assertions were made, I had to figure out how exactly I was to follow through with my plan of action. The constant outbidding was getting stale as all that did was buy some time rather than the property of which I desired. First however, I needed a place to stay as my room at the Montecito had been vacated in the little spat I had with Ms. Crompton. I had a way back in but it would take some ingenuity and disguise.
A few blocks away from the Vegas strip, the was a little restaurant known to locals only called, Benny’s. Now you hear the name and you think it’s a dive that thrives on tourism, but it’s a nice little hole in the wall that the locals like myself like to go to get away from the chaos of the strip. Benny was short for Bennito or at least, that’s how he spelled it. I pull up in my black, 1988 Corvette, a nice shine over the paint of which the hot Vegas sun glistened. As I stepped out of the car beside the quaint little establishment, I noticed a faded-green KIA Soul and a red classic Mustang Convertible. Both women got my message and both got to the meeting point. The Mustang belonged to Samantha Marquez who always had to ride in style to keep up appearances, and the Soul belonging to my best friend in this and any world, Kristy. I walked into the establishment, casually dressed in a pair of black cargo shorts, a black graphic t-shirt, promoting my appearance at the Crossroads Pay Per View, my eyes covered by a pair of aviator sunglasses, and black Airwalk sneakers dawning my feet. As I walked in I scoured the crowd inside and quickly saw Kristy’s raised arm waving me over. I headed through the crowded dining room, weaving in and out through tables ‘til I reached them, leaning over to give each a kiss on the cheek. As I sat down, Sam got right to the point.
Samantha Marquez: So how we gonna pull this off?
Mike Laszlo: Well we need a person on the inside. Somebody that won’t be noticed by cameras.
Kristy Mastrangelo: Well I could be that person.
Mike Laszlo: Well, we really don’t need a person as much as we need a name to book the room under.
Kristy Mastrangelo: Oh no. If my name has any part in this, I’m in.
Samantha Marquez: Eh, let her in. Can’t hurt to have an extra set of eyes on the inside that Linda won’t question. You know she’s keeping an eye on anyone who works there.
Mike Laszlo: True.
Before I could continue I got a head down, eyes up, puppy dog look from Kristy. Finally, I caved to her desires as I usually always do.
Mike Laszlo: Alright, fine. Danny’s all set to rent my room to you, my stuff is still inside. Once you get the room key, give me a call, me and Sam will throw on our disguises, and we’ll head up.
Kristy Mastrangelo: Then what do I do?
Mike Laszlo: I’ll give you money to play at the casino. Wear a pair of sunglasses and without being noticed, keep an eye on the place. If anything weird happens or if anything seems out of place, let me know. And try not to lose all my money.
Kristy Mastrangelo: You got lots of it. A little bit lost won’t hurt you.
She shot me a little snicker with that comment as I simply rolled my eyes.
Mike Laszlo: The disguises will get us in, and once we’re in we’ll be able to do what we have to.
Samantha Marquez: Don’t worry about security, everybody hates Linda and the new owners as much as we do. This place is ripe for a takeover after she drove it into the ground.
Mike Laszlo: It’s not in the ground yet. By the time I’m done though…the Mexican Conglomerate is going to not only leave Vegas, but possibly the country as a whole.
Samantha Marquez: We can only hope.
Mike Laszlo: Okay, now that we got the plan down, Danny is letting us park your cars at his place, I’ll drive. Let’s go.
Standing from out seats, we head outside to our cars. After a ten minute drive we had reached Danny McCoy’s house where the girls left their cars. We headed to the Montecito in my car, and parked outside. It was there we were greeted by the joint Heads of Security, Danny McCoy and Mike Cannon.
Mike Laszlo: Alright, Danny. The girls’ cars are at your place. Rent the room into Kristy’s name, and we’ll do the rest.
Danny McCoy: Will do.
Danny headed inside to make the reservations leaving Mike car-side.
Mike Laszlo: Where can I park that won’t be so conspicuous?
Mike Cannon: I got a spot. Head around back and I’ll meet you there.
Mike Laszlo: Okay.
He runs through to the back lot, passing each checkpoint as I let Kristy out at the front door. I turned and stopped her before she got out of the car.
Mike Laszlo: Hey, just act casual, and don’t overreact to anything.
Kristy Mastrangelo: Alright. See you inside.
She got out of the car and headed inside as Sam and I in the car pulled into the line of people entering the Montecito parking garage. As we waited in line, Sam and I got to talking.
Samantha Marquez: I’m glad you decided to try and get back the Montecito.
Mike Laszlo: What do you mean try? I’m getting it back. Just like when I do, you’re getting your job back.
Samantha Marquez: Thank you. I really do appreciate all you’re going through, in part for me.
My mind went blank. For some reason or another I thought she was with me when I talked her up to Linda. Low and behold…she wasn’t.
Mike Laszlo: Oh that’s right. You weren’t there.
Samantha Marquez: Where?
Mike Laszlo: In Crompton’s office when I gave her the verbal beat down of a lifetime.
Samantha Marquez: No. Why? What did you say?
Mike Laszlo: Well first I asked why you were fired. Of course she gave me some bull**** excuse about how your numbers weren’t up to par. Then I snapped. I told her that you were the best damn casino hostess in Vegas. You got whale’s around the world just waiting for their shot to spend their money in the casino. I told her if numbers were down, it wasn’t the hostess, it was the **** hole of a resort the hostess has to work with. Then I told her that she better hope I fire her when I get the place back. Then she threw me out.
Samantha Marquez: What a bitch.
Mike Laszlo: Tell me about it.
We had gotten into the area where Mike had wanted me to park my car. We could see him in the spot, but at that particular moment were unable to get to him. Before we moved another inch with him blocking our spot from other cars, my phone began to ring.
Mike Laszlo: Hello? Okay. Good. We’ll be up as soon as we can get into the parking spot Mike has marked off.
Hanging up the phone I turned my attention back to Sam.
Mike Laszlo: She’s in. We’ll park, change the look, and go.
Samantha Marquez: Okay.
Finally after five minutes of sitting still, the line moved and we made it into the spot that Mike had picked for us. Reaching in the back I grabbed hold of a duffel bag and we started rifling through it for our disguises. Ten minutes later, we were changed, Sam donning a wig that turned her from brunette to blonde, as well as temporary blonde dye on her eyebrows to lighten them up a bit. I was a little easier. I simply shaved my face and pulled my hair back into a ponytail, threw a baseball hat on backwards with some sunglasses and I was set. The two of us got out and stood next to Mike who was standing guard. We practiced a New England type accent on him, and after he approved of both our disguises and our voices, we headed into the Montecito to establish a base camp. GAME ON!!!
====================
So Atreyu, when you’re standing across the ring from me wanting to “steal the show” I want you to know this, and this is the part where my ego gets the best of me, and to be honest, I really can’t help it. I AM THE SHOW! My Honor title is on the line and as much as you proclaim that you’re going to take it, you’re going to have to do so from my cold dead fingers.
This belt is mine and there’s not a damn thing that you, Spike, or anyone else can do about it.
Oh damn…I mentioned Spike, I guess in your eyes when you win…you’ll have nothing but doubt cloud your thoughts.
Don’t worry Atreyu. You won’t have to deal with that doubt after Crossroads. You’ll have to cope. You’ll have to cope with losing to the better man.
This Sunday, live on Pay Per View,
There’s no overlooking,
There’s no me versus Spike imagined off in the distance,
There’s no doubt in either of our minds.
By the end of the night, when all is said and done, and all the smoke is clear, my Honor Title reign will be in tact. This “belt” as you put it, or, this “championship” as I put it will still be around my waist. In the end Atreyu…I will still be the NCW Honor Champion.
The sound seems to fade until we hear the sound of a record being spun backward, only to hear Mike’s voice again.
Hey Spike, I need some advice in a field that you’re an expert at.
What does concrete taste like?
The sound of laughter is heard as it trails off into the distance echoing as the scene fades.
Now I got some questions.
How can someone seem to be in so much doubt of themselves and their abilities?
How is it that something that somebody says can sound so right yet be so far off?
It astonishes me.
Really, it does.
You see Mr. Atreyu, everything you said sounded pretty good. You know, that whole shtick about me overlooking you. To the public, that might seem to be the truth. There is however, one little problem with your assessment of the situation…IT’S ALL WRONG!
After hearing your assessment, it got me thinking, and now I see what your problem is, or at least what it would seem to be to those who are able to read between the lines.
Now before I go on, I want you to know that this is not mudslinging, but instead, an assessment of my own. Mudslinging is a person’s opinion on another person or a topic and what I’m about to tell you is a conjecture based on observation and pure facts procured from your own words.
You won our match a few weeks back, and yes, I did congratulate you on your victory in what was a well fought match.
Why did I do that?
I did so because I speak in reality. I don’t live in some fairy tale land as has been suggested. I speak real truths in real time.
The reality of the situation is, the match we had a couple weeks ago was five star in quality. It was a match so high in quality that if duplicated again this Sunday night at Crossroads, could easily steal the show. A few weeks back, as mentioned before…you won.
To the victor go the spoils, in this instance, the congratulations and if you so chose, the bragging rights. Yet, all you have to say of the fact that you won is that I overlooked you? Do you doubt your own abilities that much?
What bugs me is not only the fact that you doubt yourself, but the fact that you believe your own claims that I overlooked you. Atreyu, I put one hundred percent of my athletic ability and intelligence into each and every match that I am apart of, and for you to insinuate that I looked past you to something that isn’t even there, is, well…an insult. Just because you won the match does not mean for one second that I overlooked you. As they say: “That’s why the games are played.” or in our case “That’s why the bouts are fought.”
Now keep in mind, I’m not doubting my own abilities in any way shape or form with what I’m about to say, but anybody on the NCW roster can beat anyone on any given day. If that weren’t the case, and all the NCW brass went off of was what’s on paper, the roster would be much smaller. So this Sunday, when I stand across the ring from you, keep that in the back of your mind, for better…or worse.
====================
Title: Investment Re-Made (Getting Back In)
Location: Las Vegas, Nevada
Time: 3:24 pm Western Standard Time
I had finished with my threats and belittling of Linda Crompton, the Head of Operations at the Montecito Hotel and Resort, not but an hour earlier, and boy did it feel good. Now that the threats were in place and the assertions were made, I had to figure out how exactly I was to follow through with my plan of action. The constant outbidding was getting stale as all that did was buy some time rather than the property of which I desired. First however, I needed a place to stay as my room at the Montecito had been vacated in the little spat I had with Ms. Crompton. I had a way back in but it would take some ingenuity and disguise.
A few blocks away from the Vegas strip, the was a little restaurant known to locals only called, Benny’s. Now you hear the name and you think it’s a dive that thrives on tourism, but it’s a nice little hole in the wall that the locals like myself like to go to get away from the chaos of the strip. Benny was short for Bennito or at least, that’s how he spelled it. I pull up in my black, 1988 Corvette, a nice shine over the paint of which the hot Vegas sun glistened. As I stepped out of the car beside the quaint little establishment, I noticed a faded-green KIA Soul and a red classic Mustang Convertible. Both women got my message and both got to the meeting point. The Mustang belonged to Samantha Marquez who always had to ride in style to keep up appearances, and the Soul belonging to my best friend in this and any world, Kristy. I walked into the establishment, casually dressed in a pair of black cargo shorts, a black graphic t-shirt, promoting my appearance at the Crossroads Pay Per View, my eyes covered by a pair of aviator sunglasses, and black Airwalk sneakers dawning my feet. As I walked in I scoured the crowd inside and quickly saw Kristy’s raised arm waving me over. I headed through the crowded dining room, weaving in and out through tables ‘til I reached them, leaning over to give each a kiss on the cheek. As I sat down, Sam got right to the point.
Samantha Marquez: So how we gonna pull this off?
Mike Laszlo: Well we need a person on the inside. Somebody that won’t be noticed by cameras.
Kristy Mastrangelo: Well I could be that person.
Mike Laszlo: Well, we really don’t need a person as much as we need a name to book the room under.
Kristy Mastrangelo: Oh no. If my name has any part in this, I’m in.
Samantha Marquez: Eh, let her in. Can’t hurt to have an extra set of eyes on the inside that Linda won’t question. You know she’s keeping an eye on anyone who works there.
Mike Laszlo: True.
Before I could continue I got a head down, eyes up, puppy dog look from Kristy. Finally, I caved to her desires as I usually always do.
Mike Laszlo: Alright, fine. Danny’s all set to rent my room to you, my stuff is still inside. Once you get the room key, give me a call, me and Sam will throw on our disguises, and we’ll head up.
Kristy Mastrangelo: Then what do I do?
Mike Laszlo: I’ll give you money to play at the casino. Wear a pair of sunglasses and without being noticed, keep an eye on the place. If anything weird happens or if anything seems out of place, let me know. And try not to lose all my money.
Kristy Mastrangelo: You got lots of it. A little bit lost won’t hurt you.
She shot me a little snicker with that comment as I simply rolled my eyes.
Mike Laszlo: The disguises will get us in, and once we’re in we’ll be able to do what we have to.
Samantha Marquez: Don’t worry about security, everybody hates Linda and the new owners as much as we do. This place is ripe for a takeover after she drove it into the ground.
Mike Laszlo: It’s not in the ground yet. By the time I’m done though…the Mexican Conglomerate is going to not only leave Vegas, but possibly the country as a whole.
Samantha Marquez: We can only hope.
Mike Laszlo: Okay, now that we got the plan down, Danny is letting us park your cars at his place, I’ll drive. Let’s go.
Standing from out seats, we head outside to our cars. After a ten minute drive we had reached Danny McCoy’s house where the girls left their cars. We headed to the Montecito in my car, and parked outside. It was there we were greeted by the joint Heads of Security, Danny McCoy and Mike Cannon.
Mike Laszlo: Alright, Danny. The girls’ cars are at your place. Rent the room into Kristy’s name, and we’ll do the rest.
Danny McCoy: Will do.
Danny headed inside to make the reservations leaving Mike car-side.
Mike Laszlo: Where can I park that won’t be so conspicuous?
Mike Cannon: I got a spot. Head around back and I’ll meet you there.
Mike Laszlo: Okay.
He runs through to the back lot, passing each checkpoint as I let Kristy out at the front door. I turned and stopped her before she got out of the car.
Mike Laszlo: Hey, just act casual, and don’t overreact to anything.
Kristy Mastrangelo: Alright. See you inside.
She got out of the car and headed inside as Sam and I in the car pulled into the line of people entering the Montecito parking garage. As we waited in line, Sam and I got to talking.
Samantha Marquez: I’m glad you decided to try and get back the Montecito.
Mike Laszlo: What do you mean try? I’m getting it back. Just like when I do, you’re getting your job back.
Samantha Marquez: Thank you. I really do appreciate all you’re going through, in part for me.
My mind went blank. For some reason or another I thought she was with me when I talked her up to Linda. Low and behold…she wasn’t.
Mike Laszlo: Oh that’s right. You weren’t there.
Samantha Marquez: Where?
Mike Laszlo: In Crompton’s office when I gave her the verbal beat down of a lifetime.
Samantha Marquez: No. Why? What did you say?
Mike Laszlo: Well first I asked why you were fired. Of course she gave me some bull**** excuse about how your numbers weren’t up to par. Then I snapped. I told her that you were the best damn casino hostess in Vegas. You got whale’s around the world just waiting for their shot to spend their money in the casino. I told her if numbers were down, it wasn’t the hostess, it was the **** hole of a resort the hostess has to work with. Then I told her that she better hope I fire her when I get the place back. Then she threw me out.
Samantha Marquez: What a bitch.
Mike Laszlo: Tell me about it.
We had gotten into the area where Mike had wanted me to park my car. We could see him in the spot, but at that particular moment were unable to get to him. Before we moved another inch with him blocking our spot from other cars, my phone began to ring.
Mike Laszlo: Hello? Okay. Good. We’ll be up as soon as we can get into the parking spot Mike has marked off.
Hanging up the phone I turned my attention back to Sam.
Mike Laszlo: She’s in. We’ll park, change the look, and go.
Samantha Marquez: Okay.
Finally after five minutes of sitting still, the line moved and we made it into the spot that Mike had picked for us. Reaching in the back I grabbed hold of a duffel bag and we started rifling through it for our disguises. Ten minutes later, we were changed, Sam donning a wig that turned her from brunette to blonde, as well as temporary blonde dye on her eyebrows to lighten them up a bit. I was a little easier. I simply shaved my face and pulled my hair back into a ponytail, threw a baseball hat on backwards with some sunglasses and I was set. The two of us got out and stood next to Mike who was standing guard. We practiced a New England type accent on him, and after he approved of both our disguises and our voices, we headed into the Montecito to establish a base camp. GAME ON!!!
====================
So Atreyu, when you’re standing across the ring from me wanting to “steal the show” I want you to know this, and this is the part where my ego gets the best of me, and to be honest, I really can’t help it. I AM THE SHOW! My Honor title is on the line and as much as you proclaim that you’re going to take it, you’re going to have to do so from my cold dead fingers.
This belt is mine and there’s not a damn thing that you, Spike, or anyone else can do about it.
Oh damn…I mentioned Spike, I guess in your eyes when you win…you’ll have nothing but doubt cloud your thoughts.
Don’t worry Atreyu. You won’t have to deal with that doubt after Crossroads. You’ll have to cope. You’ll have to cope with losing to the better man.
This Sunday, live on Pay Per View,
There’s no overlooking,
There’s no me versus Spike imagined off in the distance,
There’s no doubt in either of our minds.
By the end of the night, when all is said and done, and all the smoke is clear, my Honor Title reign will be in tact. This “belt” as you put it, or, this “championship” as I put it will still be around my waist. In the end Atreyu…I will still be the NCW Honor Champion.
The sound seems to fade until we hear the sound of a record being spun backward, only to hear Mike’s voice again.
Hey Spike, I need some advice in a field that you’re an expert at.
What does concrete taste like?
The sound of laughter is heard as it trails off into the distance echoing as the scene fades.
