Post by "Godly" Ken Davison on Aug 16, 2012 0:04:51 GMT -6
”Come on, get up, buddy.”
”Godly” Ken Davison opens his eyes to see a TSA Agent looking down at him.
”Is there a problem?”
”You can't sleep here. Now go find yourself somewhere to go.”
”I'll tell you what, Officer Bitchcakes. Tell Continental that when they cancel the red eye that they need to make accommodations for their passengers. Not all of us can afford hotels you know.”
The truth of the matter is, NV Laroux could more than afford to go to a hotel. But the floor of Liberty International Airport was just as comfortable to him. He hadn't had a good night's sleep for the better part of a year. The TSA agent walks away, now ignoring Davison.
Now that he's good a beligerent, Davison tries to push the issue. ”Hey, Special Officer Asshat, come back here. Can't I get one of those enhanced pat downs? I haven't had that kind of action in months!”
Davison gets up slowly, rubbing his neck which is still feeling the effect of Charlie Velez's “Closure.” He leans down and grabs his backpack off of the floor, wiping the dust off of it. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cell phone. It's just after five in the morning. Davison groans audibly as he isn't used to be up past the crack of noon. Ken makes his way over to the Continental terminal and sorts out his travel issues and walks to the food court. He parks it at the nearest table and pulls his cell phone out and sets it on the table. He presses the button on top, starting the recording.
”How does this go, Laszlo? “Tell me exactly what am I supposed to do? Now that I have allowed you to beat me! Do you think that we could play another game?” Oh, wait, that's YOUR entrance song. Isn't it? I sit here, Laszlo, as a man who dwells, nay, obsesses over the past, and I am surprised to see this out of you. Regardless of where I have been. I keep moving forward. But you... you, Laszlo... I have to say, Mike, I expected more... well... anything out of you. Something that resembles forward progress. Instead, I find a man-child who is slowly moving into his past. The old match... the old theme song... why don't you just change your name back to Slayer so everything can be the way it was when we first faced off in your dreaded,” Davison pretends to quake in fear. “Pawn Shop Match.”
Davison pauses for a moment, as if he had just come to some sort of conclusion.
”Then again, Laszlo, maybe it would be a good thing if you went back to the way things were six or seven years ago. At least then you fought your own battles. At least then you weren't some pantywaist that needed someone else to take care of his business. At least then, Mike Laszlo, you were a man. You can say what you want about me. I lie. I cheat. I am a bastard of the highest degree. But at least I handle my own business instead of getting Juan Valdez and some little bitchboy in a hoodie to take care of my business.”
Davison's voice gets louder and louder with every word. The few people in the food court at this early hour stare at Davison, who settles down and goes on in his normal voice, still paying the other people no mind.
”You play cool, Mike, but the truth is that by your actions, you show you care. The fact that you are willing and able to hand over your man card just to try to get the NCW X Championship back proves that. All I have to do to provoke you is to remind you that at Picture Perfect, I was better than you. I show off my precious championship, or just give you a gentle reminder that I am no longer the slave and you are no longer the master and you come running like the obedient little dog you are. How Pavlovian of you.”
“I realize that I probably lost you halfway into that rant, so do yourself a favor, and go and Google “Pavlov's Dogs” and it will make a lot more sense. Trust me.”
“Now there is one thing that I can't quite figure out. You came back the Pawn Shop Match out of some sense of nostalgia... or was it obligation? You could never be what I am, Laszlo. There was a time, when I wanted to be what you were, but now... now you are just a cog in the wheel. Sure, you squeak once in a while and get some attention, but I am the billowing engine that turns the heads of anyone that can hear it. But I would never expect you to understand me. After all, you think this is all an act.”
Davison's face contorts for a brief moment.
The thing is, Mikey, this isn't an act at all. Some people want to achieve success in their given profession. Others are content just to make a living. Then there are those of us who really just don't give a rat's ass about things. To quote the great philosopher Alfred Pennyworth that said “Some men just want to watch the world burn.” My world was burned to cinders, razed to the ground on July 24th, 2011. Just over a year ago, the woman I loved was pulled from my sweet caress by a God who saw fit to take a false deity and humanize him. Why, Mike? Did I learn my lesson? Why, yes. Yes I did. Did it make me a better person, not by a damned longshot.”
Davison pounds on the table with such force, he even startles himself for a brief moment. The inner struggle with NV is raging inside of him. Generally, Ken has kept NV in check, however, something about Laszlo just seems to make the demon inside of him want to come out and play. He stops to breath before continuing.
”What you don't want to admit, Mike, is that you are I are more alike than you would ever care to admit. First of all, neither one of us could care less about titles, not in this match at least. We care about honor. Not the honor that you showed as the Honor Champion you showed before the titles were merged. No, no, no. I am talking about our own honor. I am talking about our own personal code of ethics. I am not a fool, I've already figured your two new running buddies into the equation, but I don't believe I will see them, at least, not in this match. However, you should believe me when I tell you, those two haven't seen the last of me, that's for Kendamned certain.”
Somewhere in the background, a generic female voice makes a boarding announcement, and Davison quickly shuts the video off, causing the screen to cut to black.
Some time later, Davison is sitting in his hotel room. Everything is neat and orderly, the complete oppposite of what was going on in his head. Dressed in a pair of pink camo pants and a pink leather vest, he looks unusually put together, but certainly not “Godly”. The scars on his arms and wrists are a testament to the struggles his has had recently. He has his cell phone pressed to his ear, his face is worn and ragged, the night he spent on the floor of the airport certainly wasn't helping his cause.
”I don't remember if it was a dream or an actual coversation... but I distinctly remember someone asking me “Why do people hate you but love me?” And I told him “Because I am the painful truth, and you are a beautiful lie.” But that's not entirely accurate, either. If I am indeed the truth, why do I allow the lies to continue to lurk around my life like the shadows that swallow up the courage of small children at night? When you breathe, you inhale and exhale. But every single time that you do that, you're a little bit different than the one before. We're always changing. And it's important to know that there are some changes you can't control... and Kendamnit, no one can control NV Laroux.”
As Ken smiles, and child like twinkle sparkles in his eyes.
”Yes, I'm on my meds,” Ken lied through his teeth as he rolled his eyes. ”When I first returned to NCW, you were supposed to be here. You were supposed to work out this situation, and then you just up and disappeared on me.”
The unintelligible voice on the other end is obviously annoyed. Davison waits for a pause before he starts talking about.
”You want to know something? When I first got out of Shady Pines, yes, I was reckless, unruly... and I was having fun. And I should have gone after one of the big dogs right away. I should never have waited to go after Laszlo. You know why I didn't? Because I was scared. Now I realize that Mike Laszlo is his own complete person. He's not some superhero. He doesn't need a clever nickname. Just the name “Mike Laszlo” is enough to put fear in most opponents. I went after him so that the name “Ken Davison” would inspire that same kind of fear. But, no! That hasn't happened. Has it? But once I take care of business during the Pawn Shop Match, and put Laszlo down for good, then my opponents will learn to give me the same respect they show him.”
Ken tilts his head to hold his phone and folds his hands in front of him. From his tone and mannerisms, it is hard to differentiate who is in control. The pure giddiness on his face reeks of NV, while the tone and measured speech would imply “Godly” was running the show.
”This week we are to face a man, yes a mere man, who thinks that because he defeated me once, many years ago, that he can just stroll in and do what I do. He has done nothing... NOTHING that puts any fear upon us. Just because he has back up, he thinks that is going to scare us... intimidate us? Then he is sadly mistaken.”
“The fact of the matter is that we are everything that Laszlo has been. We have been main eventers. We have been World Champion in other companies. He really thought that he would be able to stand in our corner and support us one week, then come out and stab us in the back the next? Even we aren't that two faced.”
It is obvious that the NV side of his personality is in control, although somewhat suppressed. He takes a moment to breath before he continues on. It is obvious in the tone in his voice that he is more worked up about this than even he is letting on.
”You just worry about you have to do and we will worry about what we have to do. Sunday, we are going to do what Webb couldn't do. Sunday, at some point, we will be standing there in front of Mike Laszlo. And we will look him dead in the eye and we will stare him down until he breaks the eye contact... and without having uttered a word... we will have had an entire conversation. He will look away. And he will look away knowing my pain pales in comparison to the pain I have given him.”
The voice on the other end says something else, then Davison hangs up the phone and puts it down. Something is brewing in his head, and it is only a matter of time before we discover exact what that is.
”Godly” Ken Davison opens his eyes to see a TSA Agent looking down at him.
”Is there a problem?”
”You can't sleep here. Now go find yourself somewhere to go.”
”I'll tell you what, Officer Bitchcakes. Tell Continental that when they cancel the red eye that they need to make accommodations for their passengers. Not all of us can afford hotels you know.”
The truth of the matter is, NV Laroux could more than afford to go to a hotel. But the floor of Liberty International Airport was just as comfortable to him. He hadn't had a good night's sleep for the better part of a year. The TSA agent walks away, now ignoring Davison.
Now that he's good a beligerent, Davison tries to push the issue. ”Hey, Special Officer Asshat, come back here. Can't I get one of those enhanced pat downs? I haven't had that kind of action in months!”
Davison gets up slowly, rubbing his neck which is still feeling the effect of Charlie Velez's “Closure.” He leans down and grabs his backpack off of the floor, wiping the dust off of it. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cell phone. It's just after five in the morning. Davison groans audibly as he isn't used to be up past the crack of noon. Ken makes his way over to the Continental terminal and sorts out his travel issues and walks to the food court. He parks it at the nearest table and pulls his cell phone out and sets it on the table. He presses the button on top, starting the recording.
”How does this go, Laszlo? “Tell me exactly what am I supposed to do? Now that I have allowed you to beat me! Do you think that we could play another game?” Oh, wait, that's YOUR entrance song. Isn't it? I sit here, Laszlo, as a man who dwells, nay, obsesses over the past, and I am surprised to see this out of you. Regardless of where I have been. I keep moving forward. But you... you, Laszlo... I have to say, Mike, I expected more... well... anything out of you. Something that resembles forward progress. Instead, I find a man-child who is slowly moving into his past. The old match... the old theme song... why don't you just change your name back to Slayer so everything can be the way it was when we first faced off in your dreaded,” Davison pretends to quake in fear. “Pawn Shop Match.”
Davison pauses for a moment, as if he had just come to some sort of conclusion.
”Then again, Laszlo, maybe it would be a good thing if you went back to the way things were six or seven years ago. At least then you fought your own battles. At least then you weren't some pantywaist that needed someone else to take care of his business. At least then, Mike Laszlo, you were a man. You can say what you want about me. I lie. I cheat. I am a bastard of the highest degree. But at least I handle my own business instead of getting Juan Valdez and some little bitchboy in a hoodie to take care of my business.”
Davison's voice gets louder and louder with every word. The few people in the food court at this early hour stare at Davison, who settles down and goes on in his normal voice, still paying the other people no mind.
”You play cool, Mike, but the truth is that by your actions, you show you care. The fact that you are willing and able to hand over your man card just to try to get the NCW X Championship back proves that. All I have to do to provoke you is to remind you that at Picture Perfect, I was better than you. I show off my precious championship, or just give you a gentle reminder that I am no longer the slave and you are no longer the master and you come running like the obedient little dog you are. How Pavlovian of you.”
“I realize that I probably lost you halfway into that rant, so do yourself a favor, and go and Google “Pavlov's Dogs” and it will make a lot more sense. Trust me.”
“Now there is one thing that I can't quite figure out. You came back the Pawn Shop Match out of some sense of nostalgia... or was it obligation? You could never be what I am, Laszlo. There was a time, when I wanted to be what you were, but now... now you are just a cog in the wheel. Sure, you squeak once in a while and get some attention, but I am the billowing engine that turns the heads of anyone that can hear it. But I would never expect you to understand me. After all, you think this is all an act.”
Davison's face contorts for a brief moment.
The thing is, Mikey, this isn't an act at all. Some people want to achieve success in their given profession. Others are content just to make a living. Then there are those of us who really just don't give a rat's ass about things. To quote the great philosopher Alfred Pennyworth that said “Some men just want to watch the world burn.” My world was burned to cinders, razed to the ground on July 24th, 2011. Just over a year ago, the woman I loved was pulled from my sweet caress by a God who saw fit to take a false deity and humanize him. Why, Mike? Did I learn my lesson? Why, yes. Yes I did. Did it make me a better person, not by a damned longshot.”
Davison pounds on the table with such force, he even startles himself for a brief moment. The inner struggle with NV is raging inside of him. Generally, Ken has kept NV in check, however, something about Laszlo just seems to make the demon inside of him want to come out and play. He stops to breath before continuing.
”What you don't want to admit, Mike, is that you are I are more alike than you would ever care to admit. First of all, neither one of us could care less about titles, not in this match at least. We care about honor. Not the honor that you showed as the Honor Champion you showed before the titles were merged. No, no, no. I am talking about our own honor. I am talking about our own personal code of ethics. I am not a fool, I've already figured your two new running buddies into the equation, but I don't believe I will see them, at least, not in this match. However, you should believe me when I tell you, those two haven't seen the last of me, that's for Kendamned certain.”
Somewhere in the background, a generic female voice makes a boarding announcement, and Davison quickly shuts the video off, causing the screen to cut to black.
Some time later, Davison is sitting in his hotel room. Everything is neat and orderly, the complete oppposite of what was going on in his head. Dressed in a pair of pink camo pants and a pink leather vest, he looks unusually put together, but certainly not “Godly”. The scars on his arms and wrists are a testament to the struggles his has had recently. He has his cell phone pressed to his ear, his face is worn and ragged, the night he spent on the floor of the airport certainly wasn't helping his cause.
”I don't remember if it was a dream or an actual coversation... but I distinctly remember someone asking me “Why do people hate you but love me?” And I told him “Because I am the painful truth, and you are a beautiful lie.” But that's not entirely accurate, either. If I am indeed the truth, why do I allow the lies to continue to lurk around my life like the shadows that swallow up the courage of small children at night? When you breathe, you inhale and exhale. But every single time that you do that, you're a little bit different than the one before. We're always changing. And it's important to know that there are some changes you can't control... and Kendamnit, no one can control NV Laroux.”
As Ken smiles, and child like twinkle sparkles in his eyes.
”Yes, I'm on my meds,” Ken lied through his teeth as he rolled his eyes. ”When I first returned to NCW, you were supposed to be here. You were supposed to work out this situation, and then you just up and disappeared on me.”
The unintelligible voice on the other end is obviously annoyed. Davison waits for a pause before he starts talking about.
”You want to know something? When I first got out of Shady Pines, yes, I was reckless, unruly... and I was having fun. And I should have gone after one of the big dogs right away. I should never have waited to go after Laszlo. You know why I didn't? Because I was scared. Now I realize that Mike Laszlo is his own complete person. He's not some superhero. He doesn't need a clever nickname. Just the name “Mike Laszlo” is enough to put fear in most opponents. I went after him so that the name “Ken Davison” would inspire that same kind of fear. But, no! That hasn't happened. Has it? But once I take care of business during the Pawn Shop Match, and put Laszlo down for good, then my opponents will learn to give me the same respect they show him.”
Ken tilts his head to hold his phone and folds his hands in front of him. From his tone and mannerisms, it is hard to differentiate who is in control. The pure giddiness on his face reeks of NV, while the tone and measured speech would imply “Godly” was running the show.
”This week we are to face a man, yes a mere man, who thinks that because he defeated me once, many years ago, that he can just stroll in and do what I do. He has done nothing... NOTHING that puts any fear upon us. Just because he has back up, he thinks that is going to scare us... intimidate us? Then he is sadly mistaken.”
“The fact of the matter is that we are everything that Laszlo has been. We have been main eventers. We have been World Champion in other companies. He really thought that he would be able to stand in our corner and support us one week, then come out and stab us in the back the next? Even we aren't that two faced.”
It is obvious that the NV side of his personality is in control, although somewhat suppressed. He takes a moment to breath before he continues on. It is obvious in the tone in his voice that he is more worked up about this than even he is letting on.
”You just worry about you have to do and we will worry about what we have to do. Sunday, we are going to do what Webb couldn't do. Sunday, at some point, we will be standing there in front of Mike Laszlo. And we will look him dead in the eye and we will stare him down until he breaks the eye contact... and without having uttered a word... we will have had an entire conversation. He will look away. And he will look away knowing my pain pales in comparison to the pain I have given him.”
The voice on the other end says something else, then Davison hangs up the phone and puts it down. Something is brewing in his head, and it is only a matter of time before we discover exact what that is.
