Post by Mike Laszlo on Aug 21, 2017 4:10:49 GMT
You know, it’s quite fucking funny, when a man who faked fucking cancer says he can’t trust anyone.
The scene comes to and you see me leaning up against a wall. The clouds are plentiful in the sky, not allowing the red brick of said wall to pop behind me, but overall, the reflection of the day is very similar to that of my attitude…
Are you fucking kidding me Spike? You can’t trust me? You, the guy who hit me with a Thunderstruck after our match at Lineage because he felt he was mistreated by his partners is the guy who can’t trust me?
You and I have been at this for a long time, especially here in the IWF. As a matter of fact, I remember calling you out in some of our first shows just because I thought I had arrived after the end of NCW. Now I was wrong, and you kicked my ass, and to this day, you and I have had little bits of banter here and there.
BUT...for you to say that you can’t trust me is one of the most comical things I think I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth, and that includes your days of crotch chops and innuendo jokes with Rob Diamonds before you cut off his finger...but you can’t trust me...right.
Spike, you and I will have our day in the sun, the lights will be on bright in one of the bigger arenas known to man, and when that day comes, we’ll tear the house down because that’s what we do, no matter you want to give me that credit or not, I will afford it to you. That’s not what this coming Sacrifice is about, and I’m done wasting it on a guy who probably isn’t even going to get in the match anyway...that’s right...maybe I’ll start and not tag YOU in. Ever think about that? Maybe I’ll get revenge and plant a knee in the side of your head and go it alone like I’ve always done.
I throw my hands out as if to say I’m moving on because that’s exactly what I’m doing.
So now that that’s out of the way and we’ve established that Spike Kane is an idiot, let’s get onto the people who might actually be in the match. Let’s talk about MY opponents for Sacrifice, the Man of Steel couple themselves, Devlin Raine and Ryan Shane.
I point into the camera.
This is a big match for the two of you. You can shoot off all the words you want, and in Ryan’s case, probably act all cocky because you’re holding a fancy belt over your shoulder, but the fact remains, this match is HUGE!
Leading up to our match at Lineage, there’s a reason that Spike Kane and I were part of team that was called the Mount Rushmore of the IWF. We’re two of the bigger names in this sport, and we’re pretty damn good at what we do. He’s a former Imperial Champion, Man of Steel, and Tag Champion. I’m a former Imperial Champion, Man of Steel, and Joker In The Pack winner. Our resumes read like a wishlist for guys like yourselves, and that’s not belittling either of you, that’s building up the two of us...as if you haven’t done that in your heads already. The two of us have had some of the biggest moments in IWF history, things the two of you inspire to do, and for a moment Devlin, you were RIGHT THERE!
You won the Joker in the Pack and on the same night cashed in to BEAT SPIKE KANE...which in and of itself is even something I can’t boast about, and for that I give you some props because that took some guts, not only to cash in that quickly, but target one of the big dogs...but…
There’s a shrug of the shoulders with a bit of a sarcastic look on my face as I tilt from side to side, representing the truly up and down momentum that Devlin has had.
But then you went and dropped the ball, losing the title you plotted so hard to win, to your partner, Ryan Shane.
I hold my stomach, rubbing it in a circular pattern with a look of pain on my face.
That really had to hurt, didn’t it Devlin? To get punched in the gut like that had to feel like your stomach would after eating sushi in Oklahoma...you know...don’t do it. That seriously had to drag you down though. You can put on the big smile, and you can pretend like it’s all okay, but I know the truth. I know what it’s like to be on such a high and then sink to the bottom of the barrel...hell I did it last year when the Heir to the Throne came around. I had ambitions and they were quickly snuffed out by the likes of Adam Knite and Dre Cutler, and I had to go off into the sunset and get my head right...and that was bad news for the rest of you.
I point to my head.
I got things straightened out Devlin, and in fact, you and I were fighting on the apron when we were eliminated from the Roulette, another derailment in my plans, but I’m reversing the trend. I’m not taking two steps forward and one back, not in the least. I’ve taken the step back and I’ve rebounded nicely, so nicely in fact that I believe myself ready to take down the Imperial Champion and add my name to Cable’s as the only two time champion in this company. I don’t care if I have to go through you, Shane, or Spike to do it.
So if that means co-existing with the punk who Thunderstruck me after our match...so be it. We’ll co-exist, and we’ll take the two of you out back and put you out of your misery...and probably enjoy doing it.
======================================
Title: Family Man: Part 5 - Let’s Go Home
Location: Los Angeles, California
Time: 11:40 AM Local Time
We had flown to LAX to stay in our home away from home on the beach. A week earlier I had my sister-in-law from my first marriage Lindsey, and my daughter Sara flown out to California to stay at the house and prepare for what would be our little family vacation to China. We landed after a long flight back from Moscow right after the most recent Sacrifice, and landed in the middle of the day our time. Alexis and I had gotten off the plane and walked out the gate, onto the concourse of the airport and the squeals of my daughter could be heard clear across the country.
Britney Laszlo: DADDY!
I was beyond exhausted, which you’d think wouldn’t be the case after such a long flight, but as many of us know, sleeping on a plane isn’t exactly comfortable. Despite the exhaustion I slid my bag off my shoulder, dropping it to the floor and bracing myself for the impact of my little girl running into my arms. I lifted her up and hugged her, smiles on every face nearby as I spun her around.
Mike Laszlo: Ohhhhh, I missed you so much, you don’t even know.
Britney Laszlo: I missed you too.
I spun around once more and set her down.
Mike Laszlo: I’m sure you did, but it was nowhere near as much as I missed you.
Britney Laszlo: Yeah huh.
Mike Laszlo: Oh? How much did you miss me?
She threw her arms out to the side.
Britney Laszlo: So much I can’t even reach!
Mike Laszlo: Oh yeah...well I can reach farther than you and I STILL can’t reach how much I missed you so there!
She made a funny face at me and I stuck my tongue out at her. I reached down and grabbed my bag off the ground as Lindsey gave me a hug.
Mike Laszlo: How was your flight here?
Lindsey Laszlo: Good. Yours?
Mike Laszlo: Long, and some kid wouldn’t stop screaming and crying...really makes me appreciate that jet.
Lindsey Laszlo: I bet.
The two of us looked over as Alexis and Britney were playing over by the set of chairs across the way.
Lindsey Laszlo: You know, she really missed you a lot. She’d ask me every day how many days were left until you were coming home.
I couldn’t help but smile.
Mike Laszlo: I know. I hate leaving for so long. Thankfully these long tours are only a couple times a year, and if it weren’t for some stupid people at the passport place, it wouldn’t have even been this long.
I turned to her.
Mike Laszlo: Sorry for getting your hopes up about France. I know what kind of romantic you are.
Lindsey Laszlo: It’s fine...I’ll just make you take me there for my birthday or something.
We laughed as we started heading over to the little play session.
Mike Laszlo: Hey, what do you two say we go to the beachhouse? We can play on the beach and that’ll give Alexis and me a chance to relax.
Britney Laszlo: Can we build a sandcastle?
I smiled and nodded.
Mike Laszlo: Yes, we can build a sandcastle. Let’s go home!
I picked my daughter up and we all headed toward baggage claim to grab our things before doing as I said...heading home.
======================================
Don’t think I forgot about you Mr. Two Time Man of Steel.
The scene comes to and I’m still leaned up against the brick wall, but I have my index finger stuck out, wagging it up and down as if Ryan were in front of me, and like a petulant child screaming for attention, I let him know just how much trouble he’s in.
I can’t believe you’d try to tarnish my good name. You try to tell me I’m like Jake Conway? You try to tell the world I’ve done nothing, and yet I have a resume that makes you look like a rookie. Last week, you took on Jayson Matthews to be known as the “King of Detroit” when everyone knows that there’s not really much going on in the city itself to warrant even having a King.
Hold on, pump the brakes.
Now fans of the other “D”, and by that I mean Detroit, don’t get mad, I’m from Cleveland, I’m not being the bad guy, there just happens to be a little bias there, can’t help it. Anyway...yeah, you’re the King of Detroit...congrats, nobody really cares. You’re the Man of Steel Champion...other than doing my research to make fun of you and your buddy in Man of Steeling, Devlin Raine...I didn’t even know you won the belt to be honest. It was such a low key moment that I probably just glossed it over as I dealt with more important things...like taking a crap in the local arena bathroom at the time.
I push myself off the wall and start walking down the street, the camera following my every move.
You see Ryan, you should really pay more attention. I can joke and say I didn’t know about your win, but the truth is, I did. I can admit when I’m messing around to hurt your feelings. I even know that you’re a two time Man of Steel...again...congrats. However, for you to sit there and piss on my name and everything I’ve done in this company, along with the numerous headline matches I’ve been in, well, it kind of pisses me off coming from someone who has never even sniffed the Imperial Title, let alone actually had the balls to go after it.
I stop for a minute in my tracks.
AH HA! I know what it is...you’re one of those keyboard warrior types, though you probably have a bit more fortitude in the fact that you got in front of a camera and said it. You wouldn’t say it to my face though, and that’s why I look at you and hear the words come out of your mouth only to realize, that the opinions of a man who sits on the sidelines and wallows in mediocrity rather than standing for anything more, doesn’t have an opinion worth concerning myself over.
I snicker to myself.
And then there’s your choice in company. Laura Howlett...you think that she’s going to take you to the top? Maybe you can have a one week reign or whatever it was Noah Field had. Maybe you’ll eventually turn on a few of those brain cells in your head and realize she isn’t worth the bottle of platinum blonde hair dye she bought at Wal Mart to keep herself looking all trashy, and you’ll kick her to the curb like Cable.
OR
You’ll do the “Ryan Shane Thing”.
You’ll sit there with your hands tightly grasped on the Man of Steel, hoping and praying that the hooker stands behind you and doesn’t wield a knife. You’ll taunt all the people bigger and better than you until they come calling for your head and smack you around like the little prick you are.
I reach down and pulls the door open to my car.
As a matter of fact...I bet that’s exactly what you’ll do. I’ll see you on Sacrifice Ryan, and when I do...don’t worry about Laura’s knife stuck in her waistband, worry about my knee connecting with your face as I lay you out in the center of that ring for the one...two...three.
I get in the car and roll the window down.
Sunday will be fun...and Spike...stay out of my way...will ya?
With that, I peel off, burning rubber, and leaving the camera in my dust as the scene abruptly cuts to static.
The scene comes to and you see me leaning up against a wall. The clouds are plentiful in the sky, not allowing the red brick of said wall to pop behind me, but overall, the reflection of the day is very similar to that of my attitude…
Are you fucking kidding me Spike? You can’t trust me? You, the guy who hit me with a Thunderstruck after our match at Lineage because he felt he was mistreated by his partners is the guy who can’t trust me?
You and I have been at this for a long time, especially here in the IWF. As a matter of fact, I remember calling you out in some of our first shows just because I thought I had arrived after the end of NCW. Now I was wrong, and you kicked my ass, and to this day, you and I have had little bits of banter here and there.
BUT...for you to say that you can’t trust me is one of the most comical things I think I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth, and that includes your days of crotch chops and innuendo jokes with Rob Diamonds before you cut off his finger...but you can’t trust me...right.
Spike, you and I will have our day in the sun, the lights will be on bright in one of the bigger arenas known to man, and when that day comes, we’ll tear the house down because that’s what we do, no matter you want to give me that credit or not, I will afford it to you. That’s not what this coming Sacrifice is about, and I’m done wasting it on a guy who probably isn’t even going to get in the match anyway...that’s right...maybe I’ll start and not tag YOU in. Ever think about that? Maybe I’ll get revenge and plant a knee in the side of your head and go it alone like I’ve always done.
I throw my hands out as if to say I’m moving on because that’s exactly what I’m doing.
So now that that’s out of the way and we’ve established that Spike Kane is an idiot, let’s get onto the people who might actually be in the match. Let’s talk about MY opponents for Sacrifice, the Man of Steel couple themselves, Devlin Raine and Ryan Shane.
I point into the camera.
This is a big match for the two of you. You can shoot off all the words you want, and in Ryan’s case, probably act all cocky because you’re holding a fancy belt over your shoulder, but the fact remains, this match is HUGE!
Leading up to our match at Lineage, there’s a reason that Spike Kane and I were part of team that was called the Mount Rushmore of the IWF. We’re two of the bigger names in this sport, and we’re pretty damn good at what we do. He’s a former Imperial Champion, Man of Steel, and Tag Champion. I’m a former Imperial Champion, Man of Steel, and Joker In The Pack winner. Our resumes read like a wishlist for guys like yourselves, and that’s not belittling either of you, that’s building up the two of us...as if you haven’t done that in your heads already. The two of us have had some of the biggest moments in IWF history, things the two of you inspire to do, and for a moment Devlin, you were RIGHT THERE!
You won the Joker in the Pack and on the same night cashed in to BEAT SPIKE KANE...which in and of itself is even something I can’t boast about, and for that I give you some props because that took some guts, not only to cash in that quickly, but target one of the big dogs...but…
There’s a shrug of the shoulders with a bit of a sarcastic look on my face as I tilt from side to side, representing the truly up and down momentum that Devlin has had.
But then you went and dropped the ball, losing the title you plotted so hard to win, to your partner, Ryan Shane.
I hold my stomach, rubbing it in a circular pattern with a look of pain on my face.
That really had to hurt, didn’t it Devlin? To get punched in the gut like that had to feel like your stomach would after eating sushi in Oklahoma...you know...don’t do it. That seriously had to drag you down though. You can put on the big smile, and you can pretend like it’s all okay, but I know the truth. I know what it’s like to be on such a high and then sink to the bottom of the barrel...hell I did it last year when the Heir to the Throne came around. I had ambitions and they were quickly snuffed out by the likes of Adam Knite and Dre Cutler, and I had to go off into the sunset and get my head right...and that was bad news for the rest of you.
I point to my head.
I got things straightened out Devlin, and in fact, you and I were fighting on the apron when we were eliminated from the Roulette, another derailment in my plans, but I’m reversing the trend. I’m not taking two steps forward and one back, not in the least. I’ve taken the step back and I’ve rebounded nicely, so nicely in fact that I believe myself ready to take down the Imperial Champion and add my name to Cable’s as the only two time champion in this company. I don’t care if I have to go through you, Shane, or Spike to do it.
So if that means co-existing with the punk who Thunderstruck me after our match...so be it. We’ll co-exist, and we’ll take the two of you out back and put you out of your misery...and probably enjoy doing it.
======================================
Title: Family Man: Part 5 - Let’s Go Home
Location: Los Angeles, California
Time: 11:40 AM Local Time
We had flown to LAX to stay in our home away from home on the beach. A week earlier I had my sister-in-law from my first marriage Lindsey, and my daughter Sara flown out to California to stay at the house and prepare for what would be our little family vacation to China. We landed after a long flight back from Moscow right after the most recent Sacrifice, and landed in the middle of the day our time. Alexis and I had gotten off the plane and walked out the gate, onto the concourse of the airport and the squeals of my daughter could be heard clear across the country.
Britney Laszlo: DADDY!
I was beyond exhausted, which you’d think wouldn’t be the case after such a long flight, but as many of us know, sleeping on a plane isn’t exactly comfortable. Despite the exhaustion I slid my bag off my shoulder, dropping it to the floor and bracing myself for the impact of my little girl running into my arms. I lifted her up and hugged her, smiles on every face nearby as I spun her around.
Mike Laszlo: Ohhhhh, I missed you so much, you don’t even know.
Britney Laszlo: I missed you too.
I spun around once more and set her down.
Mike Laszlo: I’m sure you did, but it was nowhere near as much as I missed you.
Britney Laszlo: Yeah huh.
Mike Laszlo: Oh? How much did you miss me?
She threw her arms out to the side.
Britney Laszlo: So much I can’t even reach!
Mike Laszlo: Oh yeah...well I can reach farther than you and I STILL can’t reach how much I missed you so there!
She made a funny face at me and I stuck my tongue out at her. I reached down and grabbed my bag off the ground as Lindsey gave me a hug.
Mike Laszlo: How was your flight here?
Lindsey Laszlo: Good. Yours?
Mike Laszlo: Long, and some kid wouldn’t stop screaming and crying...really makes me appreciate that jet.
Lindsey Laszlo: I bet.
The two of us looked over as Alexis and Britney were playing over by the set of chairs across the way.
Lindsey Laszlo: You know, she really missed you a lot. She’d ask me every day how many days were left until you were coming home.
I couldn’t help but smile.
Mike Laszlo: I know. I hate leaving for so long. Thankfully these long tours are only a couple times a year, and if it weren’t for some stupid people at the passport place, it wouldn’t have even been this long.
I turned to her.
Mike Laszlo: Sorry for getting your hopes up about France. I know what kind of romantic you are.
Lindsey Laszlo: It’s fine...I’ll just make you take me there for my birthday or something.
We laughed as we started heading over to the little play session.
Mike Laszlo: Hey, what do you two say we go to the beachhouse? We can play on the beach and that’ll give Alexis and me a chance to relax.
Britney Laszlo: Can we build a sandcastle?
I smiled and nodded.
Mike Laszlo: Yes, we can build a sandcastle. Let’s go home!
I picked my daughter up and we all headed toward baggage claim to grab our things before doing as I said...heading home.
======================================
Don’t think I forgot about you Mr. Two Time Man of Steel.
The scene comes to and I’m still leaned up against the brick wall, but I have my index finger stuck out, wagging it up and down as if Ryan were in front of me, and like a petulant child screaming for attention, I let him know just how much trouble he’s in.
I can’t believe you’d try to tarnish my good name. You try to tell me I’m like Jake Conway? You try to tell the world I’ve done nothing, and yet I have a resume that makes you look like a rookie. Last week, you took on Jayson Matthews to be known as the “King of Detroit” when everyone knows that there’s not really much going on in the city itself to warrant even having a King.
Hold on, pump the brakes.
Now fans of the other “D”, and by that I mean Detroit, don’t get mad, I’m from Cleveland, I’m not being the bad guy, there just happens to be a little bias there, can’t help it. Anyway...yeah, you’re the King of Detroit...congrats, nobody really cares. You’re the Man of Steel Champion...other than doing my research to make fun of you and your buddy in Man of Steeling, Devlin Raine...I didn’t even know you won the belt to be honest. It was such a low key moment that I probably just glossed it over as I dealt with more important things...like taking a crap in the local arena bathroom at the time.
I push myself off the wall and start walking down the street, the camera following my every move.
You see Ryan, you should really pay more attention. I can joke and say I didn’t know about your win, but the truth is, I did. I can admit when I’m messing around to hurt your feelings. I even know that you’re a two time Man of Steel...again...congrats. However, for you to sit there and piss on my name and everything I’ve done in this company, along with the numerous headline matches I’ve been in, well, it kind of pisses me off coming from someone who has never even sniffed the Imperial Title, let alone actually had the balls to go after it.
I stop for a minute in my tracks.
AH HA! I know what it is...you’re one of those keyboard warrior types, though you probably have a bit more fortitude in the fact that you got in front of a camera and said it. You wouldn’t say it to my face though, and that’s why I look at you and hear the words come out of your mouth only to realize, that the opinions of a man who sits on the sidelines and wallows in mediocrity rather than standing for anything more, doesn’t have an opinion worth concerning myself over.
I snicker to myself.
And then there’s your choice in company. Laura Howlett...you think that she’s going to take you to the top? Maybe you can have a one week reign or whatever it was Noah Field had. Maybe you’ll eventually turn on a few of those brain cells in your head and realize she isn’t worth the bottle of platinum blonde hair dye she bought at Wal Mart to keep herself looking all trashy, and you’ll kick her to the curb like Cable.
OR
You’ll do the “Ryan Shane Thing”.
You’ll sit there with your hands tightly grasped on the Man of Steel, hoping and praying that the hooker stands behind you and doesn’t wield a knife. You’ll taunt all the people bigger and better than you until they come calling for your head and smack you around like the little prick you are.
I reach down and pulls the door open to my car.
As a matter of fact...I bet that’s exactly what you’ll do. I’ll see you on Sacrifice Ryan, and when I do...don’t worry about Laura’s knife stuck in her waistband, worry about my knee connecting with your face as I lay you out in the center of that ring for the one...two...three.
I get in the car and roll the window down.
Sunday will be fun...and Spike...stay out of my way...will ya?
With that, I peel off, burning rubber, and leaving the camera in my dust as the scene abruptly cuts to static.
Well howdy there pardner.