Post by Mike Laszlo on Feb 22, 2015 17:19:07 GMT
The scene fades in and as the darkness fades, the everlasting glow of the Imperial Title is all that’s seen as it sits on a pedestal. From behind the singular camera lens focused on the immaculate title belt, you can hear my voice.
Do you see that ladies and gentlemen?
Sitting before you right here and now is the most prestigious title in not only our company, but the entire world of professional wrestling as a whole. I know that sounds cliché. I know that every world champion from every organization under the umbrella that is professional wrestling says that and on some level, I’m even sure they believe it.
I don’t need to believe it as a myth because it is presented to you, the viewing audience, as FACT!
You tune into the Imperial Wrestling Federation’s programming because you all know that this is where the sharks swim and simply wait on unsuspecting pray to fall into our waters. This is where the absolute best apply their trade to be known as THE best wrestler, male or female, on this and every other planet. That title belt, sitting there before you, it represents the fact that the holder of that belt is unquestionably at that moment the absolute best.
I walk up from behind the lens and stand behind the belt, the lone spotlight reflecting off of its gold plates, its aura basically causing me to drop back in the shadows. I place my hands on both sides of said pedestal and lean over the belt. Its glow was momentarily blocked as I slowly raised my head upward, my eyes connecting with the lens, and therefore…you.
And it’s MINE!
I stand up straight, the spotlight once more hitting the polished gold, the aura returning as my voice filters through.
I’ve listened to the words of many in this company. You guys sit there and say you don’t care about a prop, a piece of tin with a leather strap; you say you don’t want the notoriety that comes with it. On any given night I will look you people directly in your eyes and I will call bullshit on each and every one of you.
If you’re not in this business to be the absolute best and be recognized as such, you need to re-evaluate your life. If you’re not here to win this belt and show your superiority, I tell you now that the door is right there, don’t let it hit you on the ass on the way out.
I reach forward and grab the belt, lifting it in the air in front of me as I lean on the pedestal.
This is the most coveted prize we have and I implore all comers to take your best shot. I want the roster to rise up and bring your best to take this from me. I want, no, I DEMAND the competition.
I step around the pedestal. I’m directly in the rain of light, the heat that pours down from the spotlight above.
Which brings me to Danger Zone. Three men will walk into that ring with one singular purpose in mind.
I look down at the belt before raising it up and placing it over my shoulder.
To walk out…with this.
I stare at the title for a moment. There’s not an audible sound as I watch the light above twinkle off of certain parts of the belt depending on angle. Some say this might be the last time I do so…I say they’re wrong.
The funny part is how close our reasoning is for wanting to leave as champion. Alex Jones doesn’t want to be on the sidelines while people like me blaze by him, leaving him in our dust. Judas Aliah wants people to believe in his cause, believe he is legit. I want the respect that I so rightfully deserve to have. To sum it up, we want vindication.
I gaze down for a moment while collecting my thoughts, only to quickly redirect my gaze.
Isn’t that right Alex?
After all of this time you finally want vindication for your career. You want to know that every bit of blood lost, every drop of sweat, every tear that flowed down your face was worth it; because so far…they haven’t.
So far you’re the one who couldn’t cut the mustard. So far you’re the one who gets oh so close but can’t seem to shatter that glass ceiling. You’re the stepping stone to other’s ascension. You’re the water boy for the football team known as the IWF; he who sits on the side and watches greatness, hoping, praying, who knows, maybe you even sacrificed a chicken or two, to one day know what that’s like.
I pull the belt off my shoulder, the strap, sliding off like a snake as I properly placed it around my waist with a simple snap in the back.
You’re gifted Alex, there’s not a single doubt in anyone’s mind about that. You’ve beaten some of the absolute best this company has had to offer. You are the man that won the Joker in the Pack, and that has gotten you into this match at Danger Zone. You did what that briefcase affords you to do, you took advantage of timing. You saw that Judas and I were going at it, you thought all of my focus was on him and I wouldn’t see you coming, but you were wrong. You were wrong because as champion, as THE champion, something you would know nothing about here, you need to have your head on a swivel. You need to know that challenges lurk in the darkest of shadows, as well as the brightest of lights, staring you in your face, ready to pounce like a lioness on her pray.
The moment I won this belt…
I reach down and smack the center plate twice.
I looked for you out of the corner of my eye. I watched your every move whilst still defending this title, knowing that if you got the right opportunity, you would take it…because that’s what you do. I’m not naïve Alex, I’m not an idiot. I know that this Sunday at Danger Zone will be a fight to the bitter end. I know that to walk out with this belt still around my waist, I will have to basically kill both you and Judas. I will have to do everything in my power to take away your will to compete…and that’s exactly what I plan to do.
====================
Title: We All Do
Location: Cleveland, Ohio
Time: 10:45 PM Local Time
Do you ever get into a situation where you think everything is going the right way, things are on an uptick and then all of a sudden WHAM! Not so much? That’s how I felt. I thought things were going good, that they were on that upswing with momentum on my side. I had taken my sister from that horrible living situation and gave her something better. I wanted her to feel wanted, to feel loved, to feel that someone did indeed care. I thought I was providing that, I thought things were happy…then I walked by her door and heard weeping from within.
I stood there for a minute.
What could be wrong?
I knocked on the door and there was no answer. She had tried to keep quiet, perhaps feigning sleep, but I had heard her not seconds earlier. I knocked again and heard her clearing her throat as well as the sound of a drawer shutting before answering.
Megan Laszlo: Come in.
I pushed the door open and upon quick glance saw her wiping the tears from her eyes as she sat on the side of the bed, facing the opposite direction.
Mike Laszlo: What is it?
She wipes the last tear but still won’t look at me.
Megan Laszlo: It’s nothing…really, I’m fine.
I walked in the room and had a seat next to her on the bed.
Mike Laszlo: You don’t need to be strong for me. You don’t have to hold anything back.
She stares at me for a moment. I can almost hear the wheels turning in her head as she contemplates what I said. She turns toward the drawer on her right and pulls it open, pulling out a picture of our grandfather. Staring at the picture, I looked at her face and saw her ready to break again.
Megan Laszlo: I…I just…can’t believe he’s gone.
Another tear fell from her bright green eyes. It hurt to see her in so much pain.
Mike Laszlo: I know it’s hard. It’s part of the grieving process. He wouldn’t want you to be sad though. He’d want you to celebrate his life, all the times he was there for you in the brief time you were able to know him. Remember the good things he did for you.
She thought for a moment longer and I saw a smile crack on her face.
Megan Laszlo: He did try hard to make up for all the lost time. Right before he went into the nursing home, I remember him taking me shopping. He watched as I came out modeling all this different stuff. He told me I was beautiful no matter what and it was at that moment that I felt love, caring, acceptance.
Mike Laszlo: He loved you. You were his only granddaughter. He was ecstatic when I told him about you. He immediately wanted to meet you, do stuff with you. He wanted to make sure you knew how special you were.
Another tear rolled down her cheek. I reached over and wiped it from her face.
Megan Laszlo: I wish I had more time with him.
Mike Laszlo: I know…we all do.
I reached over and wrapped my arm around her shoulder, pulling her in close.
Mike Laszlo: We all do.
I couldn’t stop the tears from falling down her face. She turned her face into my shoulder and let it out. I embraced her with both hands and stared out the window at the snow. The snow, like the mood, like any upward swing continued to fall.
====================
And then there’s Judas Aliah.
The scene fades back in on me, the Imperial Title still around my waist, the same spotlight raining down from above.
The man who preaches love for the world. You think you have everything figured out, don’t you? You truly believe that you know what it is I want. You feel you have me all figured out…just like Alex Jones.
The difference between the two of you is he believes me to be a horrible champion, a man not worthy of having this belt around my waist. You think I need to be loved, cared for, and the similarities between your ignorance and his are still eerie.
I run my hand over my face, the feel of the stubble rough. I hold my hand out as if I were trying to figure something out with a quizzical look on my face.
I don’t get it…I truly don’t understand how perception, at least that of the two of you can be so blind.
How many times do I have to say that I’m nobody’s hero?
How many times do I have to say that I’m not looking for adoration or cheers?
I am the champion of this organization. I am the man who is better than each of you because I have this damn belt around my waist. It’s not myth; it’s not legend…its simple fact. I’ve ascended the ladder faster; I’ve beaten those who need to be beaten, those who were roadblocks in my path to the top. I did what nobody thought was possible, and I did it with style, a style neither one of you can match, a style you can’t even strive for because it is so far out of your reach.
I grab the belt from around my waist and hold it on display again for the viewers.
Judas, you say that your purpose in life is to spread your word; spread your love to all those willing to follow. Your message is loud and clear…it just happens to also be ignored. You see, I don’t give a damn about your message. I don’t give a flying fuck about your purpose.
Do you know why? Can you look into your prophetic mind and figure out why I simply don’t care about you or your goals?
Let me help you out…in the grand scheme of things, the grand design, you, your ideas, and your purposes are all irrelevant. They don’t matter a single bit. You can have all the followers you want, you can tell them what they think they need to hear, but you need to listen to me right here and now because the purpose I have, the goal I wish to achieve is far greater than your pathetic illusions of grandeur.
You are not a God worthy of worship. You are not the savior of the masses. You’re simply another challenge for me to overcome. You’re nothing more than an opponent on the other side of that ring. You are a mere man who wants what I have and this is where MY GOAL…MY PURPOSE trumps yours. You want what I have and you simply CANNOT HAVE IT!
My goal this Sunday is to walk into Danger Zone as the Imperial Champion. It is to look across the ring at both yourself and Alex Jones, and know that I can overcome this obstacle set forth before me. It is to show the world what I know, and above everything else, my goal, my purpose, is to walk out of Danger Zone with THIS!
I hold the title outward with force.
This, to once more prove I am the best.
This, to maybe someday garner the damn respect I deserve.
I flip the title back up over my shoulder.
Your illusions won’t be enough. His arrogance…won’t be enough. Your perceptions will be destroyed, and the next time you speak of me you will refer to me as champion. You will respect the fact that I am so. You will know me and understand me as your superior and the two of you combined will succumb to the fact that you just won’t win.
I grab the belt and hold it high overhead.
Alex…Judas, come the end of the night, when all the smoke has cleared, the blood has been spilled, and the bell rings with the two of you on your backs, whether it be in the ring, or on the floor, the two of you will look up into the blinding lights and you will see this image. Let it sink in. Let it become reality.
Do you see that ladies and gentlemen?
Sitting before you right here and now is the most prestigious title in not only our company, but the entire world of professional wrestling as a whole. I know that sounds cliché. I know that every world champion from every organization under the umbrella that is professional wrestling says that and on some level, I’m even sure they believe it.
I don’t need to believe it as a myth because it is presented to you, the viewing audience, as FACT!
You tune into the Imperial Wrestling Federation’s programming because you all know that this is where the sharks swim and simply wait on unsuspecting pray to fall into our waters. This is where the absolute best apply their trade to be known as THE best wrestler, male or female, on this and every other planet. That title belt, sitting there before you, it represents the fact that the holder of that belt is unquestionably at that moment the absolute best.
I walk up from behind the lens and stand behind the belt, the lone spotlight reflecting off of its gold plates, its aura basically causing me to drop back in the shadows. I place my hands on both sides of said pedestal and lean over the belt. Its glow was momentarily blocked as I slowly raised my head upward, my eyes connecting with the lens, and therefore…you.
And it’s MINE!
I stand up straight, the spotlight once more hitting the polished gold, the aura returning as my voice filters through.
I’ve listened to the words of many in this company. You guys sit there and say you don’t care about a prop, a piece of tin with a leather strap; you say you don’t want the notoriety that comes with it. On any given night I will look you people directly in your eyes and I will call bullshit on each and every one of you.
If you’re not in this business to be the absolute best and be recognized as such, you need to re-evaluate your life. If you’re not here to win this belt and show your superiority, I tell you now that the door is right there, don’t let it hit you on the ass on the way out.
I reach forward and grab the belt, lifting it in the air in front of me as I lean on the pedestal.
This is the most coveted prize we have and I implore all comers to take your best shot. I want the roster to rise up and bring your best to take this from me. I want, no, I DEMAND the competition.
I step around the pedestal. I’m directly in the rain of light, the heat that pours down from the spotlight above.
Which brings me to Danger Zone. Three men will walk into that ring with one singular purpose in mind.
I look down at the belt before raising it up and placing it over my shoulder.
To walk out…with this.
I stare at the title for a moment. There’s not an audible sound as I watch the light above twinkle off of certain parts of the belt depending on angle. Some say this might be the last time I do so…I say they’re wrong.
The funny part is how close our reasoning is for wanting to leave as champion. Alex Jones doesn’t want to be on the sidelines while people like me blaze by him, leaving him in our dust. Judas Aliah wants people to believe in his cause, believe he is legit. I want the respect that I so rightfully deserve to have. To sum it up, we want vindication.
I gaze down for a moment while collecting my thoughts, only to quickly redirect my gaze.
Isn’t that right Alex?
After all of this time you finally want vindication for your career. You want to know that every bit of blood lost, every drop of sweat, every tear that flowed down your face was worth it; because so far…they haven’t.
So far you’re the one who couldn’t cut the mustard. So far you’re the one who gets oh so close but can’t seem to shatter that glass ceiling. You’re the stepping stone to other’s ascension. You’re the water boy for the football team known as the IWF; he who sits on the side and watches greatness, hoping, praying, who knows, maybe you even sacrificed a chicken or two, to one day know what that’s like.
I pull the belt off my shoulder, the strap, sliding off like a snake as I properly placed it around my waist with a simple snap in the back.
You’re gifted Alex, there’s not a single doubt in anyone’s mind about that. You’ve beaten some of the absolute best this company has had to offer. You are the man that won the Joker in the Pack, and that has gotten you into this match at Danger Zone. You did what that briefcase affords you to do, you took advantage of timing. You saw that Judas and I were going at it, you thought all of my focus was on him and I wouldn’t see you coming, but you were wrong. You were wrong because as champion, as THE champion, something you would know nothing about here, you need to have your head on a swivel. You need to know that challenges lurk in the darkest of shadows, as well as the brightest of lights, staring you in your face, ready to pounce like a lioness on her pray.
The moment I won this belt…
I reach down and smack the center plate twice.
I looked for you out of the corner of my eye. I watched your every move whilst still defending this title, knowing that if you got the right opportunity, you would take it…because that’s what you do. I’m not naïve Alex, I’m not an idiot. I know that this Sunday at Danger Zone will be a fight to the bitter end. I know that to walk out with this belt still around my waist, I will have to basically kill both you and Judas. I will have to do everything in my power to take away your will to compete…and that’s exactly what I plan to do.
====================
Title: We All Do
Location: Cleveland, Ohio
Time: 10:45 PM Local Time
Do you ever get into a situation where you think everything is going the right way, things are on an uptick and then all of a sudden WHAM! Not so much? That’s how I felt. I thought things were going good, that they were on that upswing with momentum on my side. I had taken my sister from that horrible living situation and gave her something better. I wanted her to feel wanted, to feel loved, to feel that someone did indeed care. I thought I was providing that, I thought things were happy…then I walked by her door and heard weeping from within.
I stood there for a minute.
What could be wrong?
I knocked on the door and there was no answer. She had tried to keep quiet, perhaps feigning sleep, but I had heard her not seconds earlier. I knocked again and heard her clearing her throat as well as the sound of a drawer shutting before answering.
Megan Laszlo: Come in.
I pushed the door open and upon quick glance saw her wiping the tears from her eyes as she sat on the side of the bed, facing the opposite direction.
Mike Laszlo: What is it?
She wipes the last tear but still won’t look at me.
Megan Laszlo: It’s nothing…really, I’m fine.
I walked in the room and had a seat next to her on the bed.
Mike Laszlo: You don’t need to be strong for me. You don’t have to hold anything back.
She stares at me for a moment. I can almost hear the wheels turning in her head as she contemplates what I said. She turns toward the drawer on her right and pulls it open, pulling out a picture of our grandfather. Staring at the picture, I looked at her face and saw her ready to break again.
Megan Laszlo: I…I just…can’t believe he’s gone.
Another tear fell from her bright green eyes. It hurt to see her in so much pain.
Mike Laszlo: I know it’s hard. It’s part of the grieving process. He wouldn’t want you to be sad though. He’d want you to celebrate his life, all the times he was there for you in the brief time you were able to know him. Remember the good things he did for you.
She thought for a moment longer and I saw a smile crack on her face.
Megan Laszlo: He did try hard to make up for all the lost time. Right before he went into the nursing home, I remember him taking me shopping. He watched as I came out modeling all this different stuff. He told me I was beautiful no matter what and it was at that moment that I felt love, caring, acceptance.
Mike Laszlo: He loved you. You were his only granddaughter. He was ecstatic when I told him about you. He immediately wanted to meet you, do stuff with you. He wanted to make sure you knew how special you were.
Another tear rolled down her cheek. I reached over and wiped it from her face.
Megan Laszlo: I wish I had more time with him.
Mike Laszlo: I know…we all do.
I reached over and wrapped my arm around her shoulder, pulling her in close.
Mike Laszlo: We all do.
I couldn’t stop the tears from falling down her face. She turned her face into my shoulder and let it out. I embraced her with both hands and stared out the window at the snow. The snow, like the mood, like any upward swing continued to fall.
====================
And then there’s Judas Aliah.
The scene fades back in on me, the Imperial Title still around my waist, the same spotlight raining down from above.
The man who preaches love for the world. You think you have everything figured out, don’t you? You truly believe that you know what it is I want. You feel you have me all figured out…just like Alex Jones.
The difference between the two of you is he believes me to be a horrible champion, a man not worthy of having this belt around my waist. You think I need to be loved, cared for, and the similarities between your ignorance and his are still eerie.
I run my hand over my face, the feel of the stubble rough. I hold my hand out as if I were trying to figure something out with a quizzical look on my face.
I don’t get it…I truly don’t understand how perception, at least that of the two of you can be so blind.
How many times do I have to say that I’m nobody’s hero?
How many times do I have to say that I’m not looking for adoration or cheers?
I am the champion of this organization. I am the man who is better than each of you because I have this damn belt around my waist. It’s not myth; it’s not legend…its simple fact. I’ve ascended the ladder faster; I’ve beaten those who need to be beaten, those who were roadblocks in my path to the top. I did what nobody thought was possible, and I did it with style, a style neither one of you can match, a style you can’t even strive for because it is so far out of your reach.
I grab the belt from around my waist and hold it on display again for the viewers.
Judas, you say that your purpose in life is to spread your word; spread your love to all those willing to follow. Your message is loud and clear…it just happens to also be ignored. You see, I don’t give a damn about your message. I don’t give a flying fuck about your purpose.
Do you know why? Can you look into your prophetic mind and figure out why I simply don’t care about you or your goals?
Let me help you out…in the grand scheme of things, the grand design, you, your ideas, and your purposes are all irrelevant. They don’t matter a single bit. You can have all the followers you want, you can tell them what they think they need to hear, but you need to listen to me right here and now because the purpose I have, the goal I wish to achieve is far greater than your pathetic illusions of grandeur.
You are not a God worthy of worship. You are not the savior of the masses. You’re simply another challenge for me to overcome. You’re nothing more than an opponent on the other side of that ring. You are a mere man who wants what I have and this is where MY GOAL…MY PURPOSE trumps yours. You want what I have and you simply CANNOT HAVE IT!
My goal this Sunday is to walk into Danger Zone as the Imperial Champion. It is to look across the ring at both yourself and Alex Jones, and know that I can overcome this obstacle set forth before me. It is to show the world what I know, and above everything else, my goal, my purpose, is to walk out of Danger Zone with THIS!
I hold the title outward with force.
This, to once more prove I am the best.
This, to maybe someday garner the damn respect I deserve.
I flip the title back up over my shoulder.
Your illusions won’t be enough. His arrogance…won’t be enough. Your perceptions will be destroyed, and the next time you speak of me you will refer to me as champion. You will respect the fact that I am so. You will know me and understand me as your superior and the two of you combined will succumb to the fact that you just won’t win.
I grab the belt and hold it high overhead.
Alex…Judas, come the end of the night, when all the smoke has cleared, the blood has been spilled, and the bell rings with the two of you on your backs, whether it be in the ring, or on the floor, the two of you will look up into the blinding lights and you will see this image. Let it sink in. Let it become reality.
Well howdy there pardner.