Post by Allen Guiliano on May 18, 2016 17:11:17 GMT -5
OOC: I am going to leave this right here, because I am not sure where else to put it. I realize that this is for a match that will never happen, will never be judged and doesn't need to be, but I thought, if this is indeed the last time that I put a roleplay together that is should be posted here in the WCF. All I am trying to do is entertain and perhaps provide somewhat of a standard for I think the WCF should be, what it has been and what I hope and think that it will be again. Best of luck to all of you as you all try to make your mark in this new incarnation of the WCF.
Precipitation lightly falls on a dimly lit section of sidewalk, dancing around a lonely puddle, only to be interrupted by a pair of black cap toe dress shoes. The yellowish light casts a long shadow of the figure that makes its way toward a set of short concrete steps. The figure quickly grabs the handrail that separates the stairs and quickly scampers up them. It becomes obvious that the figure is a male, as the olive-skinned man pulls his damp jet black hair from the front of his forehead towards the back, shaking it out slightly, as the doors to a back entrance at McCarran International Airport invitingly open, providing shelter from the rare Las Vegas rain. As the man enters the building, the camera quickly switches from behind him to in front, revealing a familiar, and what some even might call legendary face, when it comes to the world of entertainment, and in this instance, sports entertainment. WCF Hall of Famer Allen Guiliano, better known as Slickie T, carefully pinches the edges of the collar of his suit jacket between his thumbs and index fingers, giving them a quick snap, sending droplets of water in all directions as he continues forward. He leers into the camera with focused, yet soft eyes, wasting no time with pomp and circumstance in his one-off return to the world of professional wrestling.
”Joey, how fitting that Corey would arrange for you to be my opponent at his event, in his venue, in his city of choosing. A self proclaimed ‘troubled Mafioso’. Not the first fellow Italian I have faced, not even the first with ties to this ‘thing of ours’, La Casa Nostra, if you will, but the first to succeed as much as I have in this business. No, no, no, not the business business, not the business of earning money or the business of becoming the most powerful individual in an industry, but the business of professional wrestling. You see Joey, well, let me show you something and perhaps you will better understand.”
Guiliano steps onto an escalator making his way up to the main floor of the airport. As he glides up the long metal passageway, he glances up at a clock, and then at the uncharacteristically plain silver watch on his left rest, giving a slight shrug of approval. The time was just before 3:00 AM and as the camera pans away, it becomes apparent that Guiliano is the only occupant of the airport. As he reaches the top of the escalator, he takes a confident look up at the familiar neon sign that welcomes each and every passing traveler to the city he now calls home. A simple phrase that means a little something different to everyone that sees it. A phrase, for him, that has meant several things throughout this time in the desert. Four simple words: Welcome to Las Vegas. Guiliano passes under the sign, blowing it a short, yet loving kiss with an open palm. As he passes underneath, he stops, opens his arms and spins slowly on a heel, looking to the camera that now pans overhead.
”This…this is where it all began. Not where my life began, not even where my childhood or my young adult life began, but this is where the DREAM began. This is where a Sicilian, raised in Chicago, FINALLY had an opportunity. This…this is where the playing field was leveled. It wasn’t about who you knew, where you came from, who you worked for, how much money you had, what color your skin was, the transgressions that lived in your past. It was about who you COULD know, how much money you COULD make, who you COULD work for and what transgressions were you COULD commit, and more importantly, get away with. Joey, it is all about return on investment here, or as I like to call it, return on opportunity. What opportunity will be presented to you and when it is, what will you do with it? As you can see, and I shouldn’t even have to say this, but I have fully cashed in on what opportunity I had. And in true Las Vegas fashion, even though it will be held in Minneapolis, Corey Black has extended an opportunity to you. An opportunity that you must choose what to do with. Will you cash in on it, or will you be too busy marveling at the fact that the opportunity is even there to seize it? A city called Las Vegas gave me an opportunity and an individual named Seth Lerch gave me an opportunity and I was fortunate enough, no, fortunate isn’t even the right world, I was determined enough, passionate enough…and perhaps even crazy enough to cash in on both. Before I walked into the WCF, I walked right under this sign. I had one suitcase that held $500, four changes of clothes, a hand-me-down suit, two pairs of shoes and enough of my will to succeed that it was busting at the seams. And here we are, just over a decade later, standing back at the source. Why are we here, you ask? You’ll see.”
The last two words are nearly a whisper and Guiliano continues deeper into the airport, making his way past a plethora of newsstands, coffee shops, restaurants and bars, whose entrances are blocked by metal gates, and their wares are just far enough behind their barriers to prevent being them plucked by a well-placed arm. He continues at a brisk pace down the speckled grey carpet and past a strategically placed bank of slot machines, before reaching a bare terminal. The light blue, benched seats are inviting, perfectly arranged without a traveler in sight. The area is dimly lit at the moment, but the bright blue lights of the arrival/departure boards break up the monotony. Guiliano is nearly skipping through the terminal now, his feet seeming to glide across the carpet, before finding himself in front of an elevator cleared marked STAFF ONLY in bold red letters. Access is easily gained with a quick swipe of a black key card that has been stowed away in his front pocket. He steps inside and illuminates the top button, as the doors close behind him and the elevator begins its ascent. A satisfying ding greets him, as he reaches his destination and the doors open to reveal an expanse of pavement located atop the highest point in the airport. The scripted logo of his casino outlines an enormous painted yellow circle that contains the letter H, the universal symbol for a zone used for the landing of helicopters. Directly in front of Guiliano, just over the edge of the circle, the neon lights of the Las Vegas strip are slowly revealed as he strides forward. He confidently takes his last step, the toes of his left foot, and then his right, rest just short of the sharp drop off only inches away.
”Joey, mi paisano, this is what opportunity looks like.”
He extends an arm for a moment, as the camera reveals the famous Las Vegas skyline. The famous words of the nightscape are revealed, as Bellagio, Wynn, Treasure Island, MGM, Paris, Luxor, Ceasar’s Palace, and all of the others come into view and then quickly disappear as Guiliano directs a finger to an impressive illuminated script G near the end of Las Vegas Boulevard. It is almost as if it is strategically placed, setting itself apart from the rest of the distractions. It is a slightly different shade of gold and it seems to shine just a bit brighter than its counterparts. As the camera zooms closer and the symbol fills the screen, Guiliano’s signature, displayed in brilliant white, now becomes visible.
”And that is what it looks like when opportunity meets success. I started with an opportunity, a dream and determination, and I found success. LOTS of success. Not only here in this city that I now call home, a city where I never have to pay for a drink, a city where ears perk up when my name is mentioned and a city that steps the side when I walk down its streets out of not only respect, but also for that little bit of fear that hides in the back of their minds. Joey, that is true power. True power that all of us Mafioso strive for. True power that we are brought up to one day hope to achieve and to achieve by any means necessary. You know what the beautiful part about it is, Joey? I achieved it in a legitimate business. Despite my background, despite my heritage, despite my last name, I achieved it by simply being better than everyone else and meeting opportunities with success. When other casinos want entertainers in this city, they call me. When other casinos want billionaires in this city, who do they call on to show them a good time? Me. And why do they ask me for these favors? Because they simply want the opportunity. I have gone from seeking opportunity to creating it.”
Guiliano takes a deep breath, looking out over the desert, taking in the dry Las Vegas air. He glances down and slowly exhales, turning his attention back toward the helipad with a quick spin on his heel and strides back toward the center of the roof. A subtle smirk forms on his lips, as he begins to speak once more.
”Joey, I am sure you are wondering what any of this has to do with you or how any of this pertains to what is about occur Friday in Minneapolis. And that is certainly a valid question. We do not know each other personally or even on a professional level. We have simply observed each other from afar and a lot about what we perceive about each other comes from a second hand source. Ever since I agreed to come back for this…unique opportunity, I have been hearing about the comparisons between Joey Flash and Slickie T. How our situations and background are similar, but we have find success in different ways. How, like myself, you came into this organization, grabbed it by the horns and there has been buzz around you ever since. Joey, from one former World Champion to another, I know what that’s like. I know how hard it is to climb the ladder and not only reach its peak, but to try to remain on that top rung without someone pulling it out from underneath you. It is quite the balancing act and one that both of us have experienced. Success is a finicky thing. You go from wanting all of it that you can possibly digest, to seeing just how hard it is to cope when everyone has turned their attention to you.
Here is where the opportunity part comes in, Joey. You had an opportunity to become World Champion, you took full advantage of that opportunity and in the blink of an eye, with an almost unimaginable action, it was all taken away. Someone else saw an opportunity, created his own opportunity even, and pulled that ladder right out from under you and the only directly to go was down. Believe me, I know all about hard, swift, unexpected falls. I know all about having glory taken away. There were several times where I was in the same situation as you. That I thought that I had everything figured out, that I would be World Champion until I decided, on my own terms, that I wanted to relinquish that status. I burned a path from the unknown to the being the most mentioned entertainer in this federation in a matter of months and paved that path with determination and a fear of failure, only to find out that certain individuals can stop all of that momentum and halt any aspirations that you might have with a single action. In fact, I believe we have a common enemy when it comes to taking advantage of an opportunity. I may not be a familiar presence in the WCF any longer, but I do keep a watchful eye on the happenings from afar and the series of events that took place May 1st, can only be described as…well…I’m not even sure there are words to describe it. Honestly, a cash-in of an opportunity at a title shot at a Slam event and the most coveted title in sports entertainment changes hands in an instant. And it goes to someone that I think we both can agree is the LAST person, well second to last person, that we would want having it in their possession. An individual that hadn’t been at the peak of this organization in SIX years and he did it by sending a shockwave throughout the entire wrestling world.
Joey, I know this may sound impossible, but I know EXACTLY the feeling that went through you that night. I know that you do not recall, nor do you care, about the last time that he became champion and created an unforgettable piece of WCF history, but I do. I certainly do and I won’t be forgetting about it any time soon, as every time I think about it, see anything about that time or even see something that reminds me of that fateful day, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I relive it all over again. I cringe at the fact that I was on the losing end of his opportunity. I was THIS close from creating something that could only ever be matched and never exceeded in this federation, or for that many, ANY federation and has the one there to stop it. I came within an eyelash of doing the unthinkable. Entering the ring at WAR first as WCF World Champion and leaving it last with that title still in hand. It was my swan song, the way that I wanted to end my career on my own terms and I was able to outlast 28 of the best that the WCF could throw at me, but that last one. That opportunity that came to the last one…and just like that it was all over. I remember what it was like to lay in that ring and stare at the ceiling of that arena in Sacramento, knowing, but not wanting to accept what had just happened. Joey, I was in such disbelief that I even shook the man’s hand before I walked back up that ramp and disappeared behind the curtain or what I thought would be the final time.”
He stops suddenly, nearly in midsentence, as if the final few words are not wanting to leave his lips. He begins to flex the fingers on his right hand as it stays at his side. He drops his head for a moment, clearly reliving the final few minutes of WAR IX all over again. The knuckles on his had turn white for just an instant, before his fingers begin to relax and the Italian regains his composure.
”But enough about the past. Enough about the things we no longer have control over. Let’s discuss the new opportunity that is before both of us. It is a chance for you to get some redemption for your lost title and a chance for me to show an entire new generation of WCF fans and superstars why my name is one of the select few that grace the walls of the WCF Hall of Fame. Look, I know how much that title means to do, but Joey, this is a chance to add my name to your list of conquests. Many current, former and event future members of the WCF roster would give their careers for event a SHOT to step into the ring with Slickie T and now Corey Black has granted you that chance. Not only has he given you the chance to add to your already gaudy record, but he has given me the chance to give you yet one more blemish and given me the opportunity to know that I still have what it takes to compete with the WCF’s elite. Your name has been mentioned to me several times by those that still have ties to this organization and I must admit, until recently, I haven’t paid attention to any of it. I have my list of accomplishments, I have my name forever etched into the WCF history books and most importantly of all, I have the respect of my peers, and to be honest, that’s all I have ever asked for and more than a victory, more than the satisfaction of having my hand raised at least one more time, I have the opportunity to earn your respect, Joey. The respect of another so-called Mafioso. No matter how real or how self-appointed that title may be. It is one more OPPORTUNITY to for me to…
Guiliano is interrupted in midsentence as young, college-aged male is sprinting towards him, frantically waving a cell phone in the air. He is outfitted in a black suit with a blue tie that resembles a small pennant as it tightly clings to his neck, flapping in the turbulence behind his neck that has been created by his frantic demeanor. The young man continues to race towards, Guiliano, who now has his full attention directed at what better be a serious manner.
”Andy, this had better be important! I’m not sure why you are here or even if you know what I am doing here, but….”
”Sir, its Corey Black. He says it’s important. I didn’t know what else to do. They told me that you were here and I…”
The Italian simply raises a finger in the air, stopping all conversation, as if the young man has suddenly run out of breath. He silently stands in front of Guiliano, the hand that holds the phone, extended out in front of him. Before he can think of his next move, it is already decided for him, as Guiliano reluctantly graphs the phone and dismisses Andy with a simple wisp of his wrist. Guiliano, now with a look of concern on his face, rests the phone against his ear and begins the conversation with a demoralized tone.”
”Corey, I would say that it is nice to hear from you again, but something tells me you have bad news.
I see…
You can’t be serious. That is really the course of action he is considering?
I assume that means what I think I means?
Well, I appreciate the consideration and if there is anything that I can do…
Are you sure?
Alright, I will call him and see what I can do. I’m not sure my name carries much weight anymore and it sounds like his decision is already made, but you never know, I have known to be persuasive.
I will be in touch. Thanks for the call and for the opportunity, Corey, I don’t think you know how much I truly appreciate it.
Take care.”
Guiliano hangs up the phone with a quick tap from his index finger, putting his head in his hand, letting out a heavy sigh, before staring at the screen. It takes him a moment, what to him feels like several minutes, but in reality amounts to 35-40 seconds, before he dials a number he never thought he would have to call again. The camera pans in, showing the phone as he presses the green call button and three simply letters appear on the screen. W-C-F.
”Seth!
Oh, I think you know exactly who this is and even though I think you are guessing, I am here to inform you that your guess is correct.
What am I calling? Because Corey told me exactly what you are planning to do with the federation and even though I can’t change your mind, I want to tell you something. You can cancel XIII and it sounds like that event has already been scrapped, but Seth, you can’t shut the whole thing down. It means too much to too many people for you to close up shop and simply lock the doors behind you.
I understand where you are coming from, but that place is home to more guys than you know and there are there have been too many memories strewn about WCF rings for it to simply cease to exist.
Alright, I know, you are hysterical and you are acting on impulse, but hear me out here. Is there anything that I, my casino, my hotel or the city of Las Vegas can do for you, Mr. Lerch?
Seth, c’mon, you know I can’t…
Seth, the man is dead, I can’t simply breath life back into him. I can do a lot of things, but I can’t be God.
Calm down and let me offer you this. You get the room at the top of the Guiliano, we turn the whole damn room purple and we make it rain straight $100 bills inside the entire suite. That will cost me a few thousand in renovations to basically turn the whole thing into a cash box, but it can be done and it WILL be done if that is what you want.
You want real rain and you want it to be purple? Seth, its Las Vegas, do you know how many times a year it rains out here?
Alright…
Alright…
Consider it done and I will consider my chance to step back inside a WCF forever cancelled, but you have to agree not to shut it down.
We have ourselves a deal then?
Good. I will see you Saturday night.
Nope, don’t worry about booking any flights, don’t worry about packing any clothes and don’t worry about bringing any money. Consider this one on me and there will be a helicopter outside your door in less than 24 hours.
Yes, I can get one all the way to Pennsylvania that fast.
Ok, take care, Seth.
He simply laughs out loud as the conversation comes to an end. It is a laugh of comedic relief, but it also is a laugh that is clearly masking the disappoint and hurt that has flooded his senses as the realization that his match with Joey Flash will never take place and his opportunity to entertain the WCF masses many never come to fruition again. The laugh, which has now turned almost sinister, continues, as he walks back toward the edge of the building and gives the phone a vengeful toss that carries it into the Las Vegas night. Where it lands will forever remain a mystery to all but the lucky, or perhaps unlucky, person that finds it in pieces once it finally reaches the concrete desert below, as the camera pans back toward Guiliano’s face.
”Once again, Joey, opportunity has been taken from both of us. We have just experienced just how fragile it can be and what a shame that it has to end before it starts. However, let our missed opportunity not be erased in vain, as I have sacrificed mine to create others for future members of this organization. Perhaps that will be my final mark on this place. Perhaps it is not the victories, the titles, the accolades or the respect, perhaps it is simply the fact that I created opportunity.
He quickly picks up his pace, heading back across the rooftop and back into the airport below. The camera follows from behind, as what seemed to be a majestic ascent to the top, now becomes a labored necessity to reach the bottom. Sicily’s son steps back into the elevator and descends back to the terminal, before making his way through it back to the top of the steps, where once again the neon “Welcome to Las Vegas” sign greets him. Only this time, there are others that are there. A handful of Guiliano employees that seem to be questioning why they are in such a place at such an hour. Their attention is instantly directed up the stairs, toward the man in the black pinstripe suit as he stands at the edge of the top step and gathers himself in an attempt to put the pain of what has just occurred behind him. He extends his arms in that ever familiar fashion, almost as if he is making his famous ring entrance.
”Welcome! All of you are the newest members of the Guiliano Hotel and Casino’s senior management group. You are the best of the best and you have earned you way to this point. I welcome you all here today, because even though it seems like you have reached the peak of this profession, your journey is just beginning and I want to help you reach the next step. But before I delve into that, I want to take you back to where it all started for me, right here at McCarran International Airport. It started with a suitcase full of clothes, a pocket full of money and an opportunity...
His words slowly become inaudible as the screen fades to black.
Precipitation lightly falls on a dimly lit section of sidewalk, dancing around a lonely puddle, only to be interrupted by a pair of black cap toe dress shoes. The yellowish light casts a long shadow of the figure that makes its way toward a set of short concrete steps. The figure quickly grabs the handrail that separates the stairs and quickly scampers up them. It becomes obvious that the figure is a male, as the olive-skinned man pulls his damp jet black hair from the front of his forehead towards the back, shaking it out slightly, as the doors to a back entrance at McCarran International Airport invitingly open, providing shelter from the rare Las Vegas rain. As the man enters the building, the camera quickly switches from behind him to in front, revealing a familiar, and what some even might call legendary face, when it comes to the world of entertainment, and in this instance, sports entertainment. WCF Hall of Famer Allen Guiliano, better known as Slickie T, carefully pinches the edges of the collar of his suit jacket between his thumbs and index fingers, giving them a quick snap, sending droplets of water in all directions as he continues forward. He leers into the camera with focused, yet soft eyes, wasting no time with pomp and circumstance in his one-off return to the world of professional wrestling.
”Joey, how fitting that Corey would arrange for you to be my opponent at his event, in his venue, in his city of choosing. A self proclaimed ‘troubled Mafioso’. Not the first fellow Italian I have faced, not even the first with ties to this ‘thing of ours’, La Casa Nostra, if you will, but the first to succeed as much as I have in this business. No, no, no, not the business business, not the business of earning money or the business of becoming the most powerful individual in an industry, but the business of professional wrestling. You see Joey, well, let me show you something and perhaps you will better understand.”
Guiliano steps onto an escalator making his way up to the main floor of the airport. As he glides up the long metal passageway, he glances up at a clock, and then at the uncharacteristically plain silver watch on his left rest, giving a slight shrug of approval. The time was just before 3:00 AM and as the camera pans away, it becomes apparent that Guiliano is the only occupant of the airport. As he reaches the top of the escalator, he takes a confident look up at the familiar neon sign that welcomes each and every passing traveler to the city he now calls home. A simple phrase that means a little something different to everyone that sees it. A phrase, for him, that has meant several things throughout this time in the desert. Four simple words: Welcome to Las Vegas. Guiliano passes under the sign, blowing it a short, yet loving kiss with an open palm. As he passes underneath, he stops, opens his arms and spins slowly on a heel, looking to the camera that now pans overhead.
”This…this is where it all began. Not where my life began, not even where my childhood or my young adult life began, but this is where the DREAM began. This is where a Sicilian, raised in Chicago, FINALLY had an opportunity. This…this is where the playing field was leveled. It wasn’t about who you knew, where you came from, who you worked for, how much money you had, what color your skin was, the transgressions that lived in your past. It was about who you COULD know, how much money you COULD make, who you COULD work for and what transgressions were you COULD commit, and more importantly, get away with. Joey, it is all about return on investment here, or as I like to call it, return on opportunity. What opportunity will be presented to you and when it is, what will you do with it? As you can see, and I shouldn’t even have to say this, but I have fully cashed in on what opportunity I had. And in true Las Vegas fashion, even though it will be held in Minneapolis, Corey Black has extended an opportunity to you. An opportunity that you must choose what to do with. Will you cash in on it, or will you be too busy marveling at the fact that the opportunity is even there to seize it? A city called Las Vegas gave me an opportunity and an individual named Seth Lerch gave me an opportunity and I was fortunate enough, no, fortunate isn’t even the right world, I was determined enough, passionate enough…and perhaps even crazy enough to cash in on both. Before I walked into the WCF, I walked right under this sign. I had one suitcase that held $500, four changes of clothes, a hand-me-down suit, two pairs of shoes and enough of my will to succeed that it was busting at the seams. And here we are, just over a decade later, standing back at the source. Why are we here, you ask? You’ll see.”
The last two words are nearly a whisper and Guiliano continues deeper into the airport, making his way past a plethora of newsstands, coffee shops, restaurants and bars, whose entrances are blocked by metal gates, and their wares are just far enough behind their barriers to prevent being them plucked by a well-placed arm. He continues at a brisk pace down the speckled grey carpet and past a strategically placed bank of slot machines, before reaching a bare terminal. The light blue, benched seats are inviting, perfectly arranged without a traveler in sight. The area is dimly lit at the moment, but the bright blue lights of the arrival/departure boards break up the monotony. Guiliano is nearly skipping through the terminal now, his feet seeming to glide across the carpet, before finding himself in front of an elevator cleared marked STAFF ONLY in bold red letters. Access is easily gained with a quick swipe of a black key card that has been stowed away in his front pocket. He steps inside and illuminates the top button, as the doors close behind him and the elevator begins its ascent. A satisfying ding greets him, as he reaches his destination and the doors open to reveal an expanse of pavement located atop the highest point in the airport. The scripted logo of his casino outlines an enormous painted yellow circle that contains the letter H, the universal symbol for a zone used for the landing of helicopters. Directly in front of Guiliano, just over the edge of the circle, the neon lights of the Las Vegas strip are slowly revealed as he strides forward. He confidently takes his last step, the toes of his left foot, and then his right, rest just short of the sharp drop off only inches away.
”Joey, mi paisano, this is what opportunity looks like.”
He extends an arm for a moment, as the camera reveals the famous Las Vegas skyline. The famous words of the nightscape are revealed, as Bellagio, Wynn, Treasure Island, MGM, Paris, Luxor, Ceasar’s Palace, and all of the others come into view and then quickly disappear as Guiliano directs a finger to an impressive illuminated script G near the end of Las Vegas Boulevard. It is almost as if it is strategically placed, setting itself apart from the rest of the distractions. It is a slightly different shade of gold and it seems to shine just a bit brighter than its counterparts. As the camera zooms closer and the symbol fills the screen, Guiliano’s signature, displayed in brilliant white, now becomes visible.
”And that is what it looks like when opportunity meets success. I started with an opportunity, a dream and determination, and I found success. LOTS of success. Not only here in this city that I now call home, a city where I never have to pay for a drink, a city where ears perk up when my name is mentioned and a city that steps the side when I walk down its streets out of not only respect, but also for that little bit of fear that hides in the back of their minds. Joey, that is true power. True power that all of us Mafioso strive for. True power that we are brought up to one day hope to achieve and to achieve by any means necessary. You know what the beautiful part about it is, Joey? I achieved it in a legitimate business. Despite my background, despite my heritage, despite my last name, I achieved it by simply being better than everyone else and meeting opportunities with success. When other casinos want entertainers in this city, they call me. When other casinos want billionaires in this city, who do they call on to show them a good time? Me. And why do they ask me for these favors? Because they simply want the opportunity. I have gone from seeking opportunity to creating it.”
Guiliano takes a deep breath, looking out over the desert, taking in the dry Las Vegas air. He glances down and slowly exhales, turning his attention back toward the helipad with a quick spin on his heel and strides back toward the center of the roof. A subtle smirk forms on his lips, as he begins to speak once more.
”Joey, I am sure you are wondering what any of this has to do with you or how any of this pertains to what is about occur Friday in Minneapolis. And that is certainly a valid question. We do not know each other personally or even on a professional level. We have simply observed each other from afar and a lot about what we perceive about each other comes from a second hand source. Ever since I agreed to come back for this…unique opportunity, I have been hearing about the comparisons between Joey Flash and Slickie T. How our situations and background are similar, but we have find success in different ways. How, like myself, you came into this organization, grabbed it by the horns and there has been buzz around you ever since. Joey, from one former World Champion to another, I know what that’s like. I know how hard it is to climb the ladder and not only reach its peak, but to try to remain on that top rung without someone pulling it out from underneath you. It is quite the balancing act and one that both of us have experienced. Success is a finicky thing. You go from wanting all of it that you can possibly digest, to seeing just how hard it is to cope when everyone has turned their attention to you.
Here is where the opportunity part comes in, Joey. You had an opportunity to become World Champion, you took full advantage of that opportunity and in the blink of an eye, with an almost unimaginable action, it was all taken away. Someone else saw an opportunity, created his own opportunity even, and pulled that ladder right out from under you and the only directly to go was down. Believe me, I know all about hard, swift, unexpected falls. I know all about having glory taken away. There were several times where I was in the same situation as you. That I thought that I had everything figured out, that I would be World Champion until I decided, on my own terms, that I wanted to relinquish that status. I burned a path from the unknown to the being the most mentioned entertainer in this federation in a matter of months and paved that path with determination and a fear of failure, only to find out that certain individuals can stop all of that momentum and halt any aspirations that you might have with a single action. In fact, I believe we have a common enemy when it comes to taking advantage of an opportunity. I may not be a familiar presence in the WCF any longer, but I do keep a watchful eye on the happenings from afar and the series of events that took place May 1st, can only be described as…well…I’m not even sure there are words to describe it. Honestly, a cash-in of an opportunity at a title shot at a Slam event and the most coveted title in sports entertainment changes hands in an instant. And it goes to someone that I think we both can agree is the LAST person, well second to last person, that we would want having it in their possession. An individual that hadn’t been at the peak of this organization in SIX years and he did it by sending a shockwave throughout the entire wrestling world.
Joey, I know this may sound impossible, but I know EXACTLY the feeling that went through you that night. I know that you do not recall, nor do you care, about the last time that he became champion and created an unforgettable piece of WCF history, but I do. I certainly do and I won’t be forgetting about it any time soon, as every time I think about it, see anything about that time or even see something that reminds me of that fateful day, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I relive it all over again. I cringe at the fact that I was on the losing end of his opportunity. I was THIS close from creating something that could only ever be matched and never exceeded in this federation, or for that many, ANY federation and has the one there to stop it. I came within an eyelash of doing the unthinkable. Entering the ring at WAR first as WCF World Champion and leaving it last with that title still in hand. It was my swan song, the way that I wanted to end my career on my own terms and I was able to outlast 28 of the best that the WCF could throw at me, but that last one. That opportunity that came to the last one…and just like that it was all over. I remember what it was like to lay in that ring and stare at the ceiling of that arena in Sacramento, knowing, but not wanting to accept what had just happened. Joey, I was in such disbelief that I even shook the man’s hand before I walked back up that ramp and disappeared behind the curtain or what I thought would be the final time.”
He stops suddenly, nearly in midsentence, as if the final few words are not wanting to leave his lips. He begins to flex the fingers on his right hand as it stays at his side. He drops his head for a moment, clearly reliving the final few minutes of WAR IX all over again. The knuckles on his had turn white for just an instant, before his fingers begin to relax and the Italian regains his composure.
”But enough about the past. Enough about the things we no longer have control over. Let’s discuss the new opportunity that is before both of us. It is a chance for you to get some redemption for your lost title and a chance for me to show an entire new generation of WCF fans and superstars why my name is one of the select few that grace the walls of the WCF Hall of Fame. Look, I know how much that title means to do, but Joey, this is a chance to add my name to your list of conquests. Many current, former and event future members of the WCF roster would give their careers for event a SHOT to step into the ring with Slickie T and now Corey Black has granted you that chance. Not only has he given you the chance to add to your already gaudy record, but he has given me the chance to give you yet one more blemish and given me the opportunity to know that I still have what it takes to compete with the WCF’s elite. Your name has been mentioned to me several times by those that still have ties to this organization and I must admit, until recently, I haven’t paid attention to any of it. I have my list of accomplishments, I have my name forever etched into the WCF history books and most importantly of all, I have the respect of my peers, and to be honest, that’s all I have ever asked for and more than a victory, more than the satisfaction of having my hand raised at least one more time, I have the opportunity to earn your respect, Joey. The respect of another so-called Mafioso. No matter how real or how self-appointed that title may be. It is one more OPPORTUNITY to for me to…
Guiliano is interrupted in midsentence as young, college-aged male is sprinting towards him, frantically waving a cell phone in the air. He is outfitted in a black suit with a blue tie that resembles a small pennant as it tightly clings to his neck, flapping in the turbulence behind his neck that has been created by his frantic demeanor. The young man continues to race towards, Guiliano, who now has his full attention directed at what better be a serious manner.
”Andy, this had better be important! I’m not sure why you are here or even if you know what I am doing here, but….”
”Sir, its Corey Black. He says it’s important. I didn’t know what else to do. They told me that you were here and I…”
The Italian simply raises a finger in the air, stopping all conversation, as if the young man has suddenly run out of breath. He silently stands in front of Guiliano, the hand that holds the phone, extended out in front of him. Before he can think of his next move, it is already decided for him, as Guiliano reluctantly graphs the phone and dismisses Andy with a simple wisp of his wrist. Guiliano, now with a look of concern on his face, rests the phone against his ear and begins the conversation with a demoralized tone.”
”Corey, I would say that it is nice to hear from you again, but something tells me you have bad news.
I see…
You can’t be serious. That is really the course of action he is considering?
I assume that means what I think I means?
Well, I appreciate the consideration and if there is anything that I can do…
Are you sure?
Alright, I will call him and see what I can do. I’m not sure my name carries much weight anymore and it sounds like his decision is already made, but you never know, I have known to be persuasive.
I will be in touch. Thanks for the call and for the opportunity, Corey, I don’t think you know how much I truly appreciate it.
Take care.”
Guiliano hangs up the phone with a quick tap from his index finger, putting his head in his hand, letting out a heavy sigh, before staring at the screen. It takes him a moment, what to him feels like several minutes, but in reality amounts to 35-40 seconds, before he dials a number he never thought he would have to call again. The camera pans in, showing the phone as he presses the green call button and three simply letters appear on the screen. W-C-F.
”Seth!
Oh, I think you know exactly who this is and even though I think you are guessing, I am here to inform you that your guess is correct.
What am I calling? Because Corey told me exactly what you are planning to do with the federation and even though I can’t change your mind, I want to tell you something. You can cancel XIII and it sounds like that event has already been scrapped, but Seth, you can’t shut the whole thing down. It means too much to too many people for you to close up shop and simply lock the doors behind you.
I understand where you are coming from, but that place is home to more guys than you know and there are there have been too many memories strewn about WCF rings for it to simply cease to exist.
Alright, I know, you are hysterical and you are acting on impulse, but hear me out here. Is there anything that I, my casino, my hotel or the city of Las Vegas can do for you, Mr. Lerch?
Seth, c’mon, you know I can’t…
Seth, the man is dead, I can’t simply breath life back into him. I can do a lot of things, but I can’t be God.
Calm down and let me offer you this. You get the room at the top of the Guiliano, we turn the whole damn room purple and we make it rain straight $100 bills inside the entire suite. That will cost me a few thousand in renovations to basically turn the whole thing into a cash box, but it can be done and it WILL be done if that is what you want.
You want real rain and you want it to be purple? Seth, its Las Vegas, do you know how many times a year it rains out here?
Alright…
Alright…
Consider it done and I will consider my chance to step back inside a WCF forever cancelled, but you have to agree not to shut it down.
We have ourselves a deal then?
Good. I will see you Saturday night.
Nope, don’t worry about booking any flights, don’t worry about packing any clothes and don’t worry about bringing any money. Consider this one on me and there will be a helicopter outside your door in less than 24 hours.
Yes, I can get one all the way to Pennsylvania that fast.
Ok, take care, Seth.
He simply laughs out loud as the conversation comes to an end. It is a laugh of comedic relief, but it also is a laugh that is clearly masking the disappoint and hurt that has flooded his senses as the realization that his match with Joey Flash will never take place and his opportunity to entertain the WCF masses many never come to fruition again. The laugh, which has now turned almost sinister, continues, as he walks back toward the edge of the building and gives the phone a vengeful toss that carries it into the Las Vegas night. Where it lands will forever remain a mystery to all but the lucky, or perhaps unlucky, person that finds it in pieces once it finally reaches the concrete desert below, as the camera pans back toward Guiliano’s face.
”Once again, Joey, opportunity has been taken from both of us. We have just experienced just how fragile it can be and what a shame that it has to end before it starts. However, let our missed opportunity not be erased in vain, as I have sacrificed mine to create others for future members of this organization. Perhaps that will be my final mark on this place. Perhaps it is not the victories, the titles, the accolades or the respect, perhaps it is simply the fact that I created opportunity.
He quickly picks up his pace, heading back across the rooftop and back into the airport below. The camera follows from behind, as what seemed to be a majestic ascent to the top, now becomes a labored necessity to reach the bottom. Sicily’s son steps back into the elevator and descends back to the terminal, before making his way through it back to the top of the steps, where once again the neon “Welcome to Las Vegas” sign greets him. Only this time, there are others that are there. A handful of Guiliano employees that seem to be questioning why they are in such a place at such an hour. Their attention is instantly directed up the stairs, toward the man in the black pinstripe suit as he stands at the edge of the top step and gathers himself in an attempt to put the pain of what has just occurred behind him. He extends his arms in that ever familiar fashion, almost as if he is making his famous ring entrance.
”Welcome! All of you are the newest members of the Guiliano Hotel and Casino’s senior management group. You are the best of the best and you have earned you way to this point. I welcome you all here today, because even though it seems like you have reached the peak of this profession, your journey is just beginning and I want to help you reach the next step. But before I delve into that, I want to take you back to where it all started for me, right here at McCarran International Airport. It started with a suitcase full of clothes, a pocket full of money and an opportunity...
His words slowly become inaudible as the screen fades to black.
