Post by Vincent Augustine on Mar 17, 2019 22:06:25 GMT -5
MARCH 2010
A hooded man bounced around in the back of a van, assailants on either side of him. “Don’t worry friend, you will be taken very good care of.” The man on the right said as the others in the van laughed. There were at least 5 men in the van, all of them with thick broken English accents. None of them showed a single care in the world.
Having reached its destination, the van came to a stop and the men dragged the hooded man out of the back of the van and hurried him into the building. There they sat him down in a chair, cuffed his hands and legs, the pulled the bag off his head. The man shook out his head and flipped the long hair out of his face. Vincent smiled as he saw a tall man enter the room as if on cue. “Mr. Augustine.” The man said with a sick shit eating grin. “The elusive Mr. Augustine.” The man said, his smile widening.
“Seems to me I’m at a disadvantage here.” Vincent quipped back, releasing a smile of his own back at the man.
“Surely you know who I am Mr. Augustine, you have been disrupting my video feeds and media transmissions for the last three weeks, and much to my great anger might I add.” The man strode across the dark room that to Vincent had to be some sort of family room with the lights dimmed to make it more ominous.
“Pretty sure you have me mistaken with someone else. I’m a journalist with the U.S. Post doing a story on soccer in the Middle East. Trying to show the world that even though bad things happened here we as people can overcome those bad things and create something great.” Vincent nodded towards his bag on the left wall of the room. “Credentials are right there, long with my laptop. Feel free to have a look.”
The man motioned to the bag, one of the men near the bag grabbed it and dumped the contents on the ground. He held up the credentials and the laptop. “He’s telling the truth boss.” The man said in broken English.
“No he has documents that make it look like he is.” The man known only as boss grabbed the laptop and slapped it down on a table, flipping it open and booting it up. “Password!” He yelled outloud.
“1S#VAusPost.” Vincent said, each letter and number individual as he spoke. For 20 minutes the man searched the computer, pulling up different documents, reading everything before slamming the top shut so hard it had no doubt broken the screen.
“Get this piece of shit out of here.” The man yelled. The men around Vincent lifted him off the chair carried him out of the house and tossed him in the back of the van and drove off.
WEDNESDAY MARCH 13TH 2019
Vincent sat, left leg crossed over the right, finely tailored grey suit, red tie, in a chair before the camera. The bustle in the background couldn’t be seen, but he stood out against the black backdrop of the wall behind him. In his right hand he held a cup of tea, the other rested easily on the arm of the oversized chair he sat in. Behind the camera the man motioned for the countdown to begin, going from five fingers to 1 and pointing to Vincent.
I once knew a man, interesting man. He controlled the media of his little world, printed the propaganda of the tyrants who paid him, and spread their lies to the world through social media and TV. But like all people who use others, who push their own agenda for their own profit, the world came crashing down on this man. A mogul of the real estate world, a man to the public who did such great things, but a tyrant paid for and used by the tyrants that ran his country, he died the death of a great, man hanging from a rope off the front balcony of his home.
My life has shown me the world, taken me everywhere I could have imagined, and there has always been one true overriding reality of all of it. If there is money to be made from the suffering of someone else, there will always be someone there to take advantage of it. We see it in our everyday life, we see it in the workplace, and we see it when we walk down the street. Not everything is what you think, and a great many of times the reality of what is taking place is pushed to the background of the world, hidden from the eyes that are not trained to see it.
When I first planned to sit down here and talk to all of you, to give you my opinions on what is going on around the WCF, I planned at length to tell you all my feelings about Teo Blaze, but that I know is not what the WCF needs right now. See if I were to tell you how I felt about Teo it would do nothing more than to feed the narrative Teo has already lain out. Reality is Teo is a super talented wrestler, a man who deserves all the accolades and things he has earned, there are not many who can do the things he does in the ring.
Twice I have stepped into the ring with the King of Media, and twice the King of Media has taken me down. He seemed to always be a step ahead of me, more prepared then I was, and because of that he was able to get the win. But things do change overtime, we encounter things in our lives that will make us rethink ourselves, rethink our strategies, and more accurately rethink the world.
Have you ever had that moment when someone says something to you, something so minor, and yet so strong that you find yourself unable to put their words out of your mind? I have had that moment, a moment that was given to me courtesy of Teo himself. You see the first time we stepped into the ring Teo called me a bully, something I would have never considered myself to be, but something at the end of the day I am. But it wasn’t the thought of myself being the bully that caught my mind, that wrapped my thoughts up for hours at end every night. No it was the concept of what is a bully that made my mind work overtime, that kept me up night after night.
You see Merriam Webster has a great many of definitions for what a bully is. Take first ‘a blustering, brow beating person. What does this mean you might ask? It’s someone who is habitually cruel, insulting, or threatening to others who are weaker, smaller, or in some way vulnderable. Secondly let’s look at the Verb form of Bully, ‘to treat someone in cruel, insulting, threatening, or aggressive fashion.’ What might this mean? It’s simple at the end of the day, we each and every one of us is at some point and time in our lives, a bully.
This sickens me when I think about it, not the fact that you or I are bullies. No what sickens me is that a man like Teo would sit in a chair, not unlike this one, sip fine liquor, and have the nerve to call me a bully. All the while knowing his own past, knowing his own transgressions, he would still have the audacity to pretend he was somehow more refined than anyone else. But then they do say that the ground is littered with those that the people at the top had to step on to climb the mountain.
So Teo let me postulate a question to you. Think back on all the people you had to step on, to everyone that helped you to become the person you are today, consider all of the people you bullied all for your own personal gain, and consider for one moment how your actions affected all of them. See deep down inside you will tell the world you did what you had too, hell you probably tell yourself that as well when you have the nightmares of your past transgressions.
See me, I’m ok with everything I have done, to be honest I feel no remorse for a single thing. Sure a great deal of it is what you would call terrible, or deplorable, and hell it did make me a bully. The difference between me and you Teo, is I’m not trying to be someone I’m not. No I don’t run from my past, don’t run from what I have done, I wear it on my chest like a badge of honor, because all of those people that I stepped on, they were just as ready to step on me if I had let them.
Twice I let you step on me, twice I let you get the better of me, not because I wanted too, but because I didn’t understand what I was getting into. Things have changed Teo, and for the first time in a long time you are not going into a match the most prepared man in the ring, you are going into a match the man with a target on his back, not because you have a title, not because you are great, but because at the end of the day, I’m going to be the bigger bully in the ring.
The light over the camera cut off and Vincent uncrossed his legs. “Someone get me some god damn actually tea, holding this damn empty mug only made me thirsty.” A young woman ran over and took the mug, then disappeared out of the area.
“You big bully.” The small Asian woman said as she glided across the area to Vincent’s side and handed him a cup of tea.
“Herbal?” Vincent asked.
“You dick head, you know it green tea with hint of Mango and Peach. Now drink up asshole.” She winked at him and sat on the arm of the oversized arm chair. Vincent shifted in the chair to better face her.
“You ever wonder how people would feel if they knew there was a cure D.I.D.?” Vincent casually asked.
“Never cross my mind. I worry more about the few people who want help, not the ones who want to make money of their illness and do dumb TV show.” The woman sipped her own tea as Vincent did the same.
“I get it, but I doubt people are trying to profit off it on a regular basis.” Vincent replied.
“You stupid, people profit off anything, you know better than anyone. You say so yourself in big long winded monologue you just do.” The woman slapped Vincent on the back of his head. “Don’t pretend be dumb like everyone else, you too good for that.” She slipped off the chair took a sip of her tea and started to walk away.
“You think I have a chance?” Vincent asked.
“He too good for you Vincent, you need more practice, not sit in front of camera and talk.” The woman said before slipping out of the side door of the studio.’
“Want to do it again Vincent?” A man with a headset asked as he walked over.
“Fuck no!” Vincent shouted as he stood up and downed the tea. “How fucking dumb are you?” He asked as he pushed past the man and made his way to the door to exit the studio.
“You go win that title Vincent!” The man shouted. Vincent simply shot him the bird as he swung open the door and stepped out of the dark room of the studio into the sunlight. His eyes strained as they worked to adjust to the influx of light, but he saw what he wanted in the parking lot. He strode slow half squinting until he reached the white Malibu and slipped into the passenger seat.
“What do you have for me?” Vincent asked.
“Everything is done, sell went through, all quiet and on the DL, shell companies and subsidiaries and what not. Important thing is you won, and no one knows it was you.” The man handed Vincent a brown envelope.
Vincent opened the envelope, peaked inside and nodded before securing it back up. “Jayson doesn’t know what is coming. Remember keep this between us, we don’t change anything, this will be all the leverage I need to get what I want.” Vincent winked and slipped out of the Malibu.
As the car drove off, Vincent slipped the envelope into his jacket and stared at the sky for a moment, taking in a deep breath.
Somethings just seem to work out, somethings just seem to fall apart. Life is nothing more than a shit show, and we are the ones forced to live it. But if you plan hard, you pay enough attention and you get your ducks in a row, sometimes you can make things go your way. Teo, this week isn’t your week, I’m taking that title from you, not because I want it, but because you truly don’t deserve to have it. I’d normal tell you what all of this added up to, but you and I both know you can do even the most simple of math, so I’ll let you solve the equation yourself, even you can do the math in your head.
Vincent winked, turned, and strode off into the parking lot, walking with a confidence he only recently had refound.
A hooded man bounced around in the back of a van, assailants on either side of him. “Don’t worry friend, you will be taken very good care of.” The man on the right said as the others in the van laughed. There were at least 5 men in the van, all of them with thick broken English accents. None of them showed a single care in the world.
Having reached its destination, the van came to a stop and the men dragged the hooded man out of the back of the van and hurried him into the building. There they sat him down in a chair, cuffed his hands and legs, the pulled the bag off his head. The man shook out his head and flipped the long hair out of his face. Vincent smiled as he saw a tall man enter the room as if on cue. “Mr. Augustine.” The man said with a sick shit eating grin. “The elusive Mr. Augustine.” The man said, his smile widening.
“Seems to me I’m at a disadvantage here.” Vincent quipped back, releasing a smile of his own back at the man.
“Surely you know who I am Mr. Augustine, you have been disrupting my video feeds and media transmissions for the last three weeks, and much to my great anger might I add.” The man strode across the dark room that to Vincent had to be some sort of family room with the lights dimmed to make it more ominous.
“Pretty sure you have me mistaken with someone else. I’m a journalist with the U.S. Post doing a story on soccer in the Middle East. Trying to show the world that even though bad things happened here we as people can overcome those bad things and create something great.” Vincent nodded towards his bag on the left wall of the room. “Credentials are right there, long with my laptop. Feel free to have a look.”
The man motioned to the bag, one of the men near the bag grabbed it and dumped the contents on the ground. He held up the credentials and the laptop. “He’s telling the truth boss.” The man said in broken English.
“No he has documents that make it look like he is.” The man known only as boss grabbed the laptop and slapped it down on a table, flipping it open and booting it up. “Password!” He yelled outloud.
“1S#VAusPost.” Vincent said, each letter and number individual as he spoke. For 20 minutes the man searched the computer, pulling up different documents, reading everything before slamming the top shut so hard it had no doubt broken the screen.
“Get this piece of shit out of here.” The man yelled. The men around Vincent lifted him off the chair carried him out of the house and tossed him in the back of the van and drove off.
WEDNESDAY MARCH 13TH 2019
Vincent sat, left leg crossed over the right, finely tailored grey suit, red tie, in a chair before the camera. The bustle in the background couldn’t be seen, but he stood out against the black backdrop of the wall behind him. In his right hand he held a cup of tea, the other rested easily on the arm of the oversized chair he sat in. Behind the camera the man motioned for the countdown to begin, going from five fingers to 1 and pointing to Vincent.
I once knew a man, interesting man. He controlled the media of his little world, printed the propaganda of the tyrants who paid him, and spread their lies to the world through social media and TV. But like all people who use others, who push their own agenda for their own profit, the world came crashing down on this man. A mogul of the real estate world, a man to the public who did such great things, but a tyrant paid for and used by the tyrants that ran his country, he died the death of a great, man hanging from a rope off the front balcony of his home.
My life has shown me the world, taken me everywhere I could have imagined, and there has always been one true overriding reality of all of it. If there is money to be made from the suffering of someone else, there will always be someone there to take advantage of it. We see it in our everyday life, we see it in the workplace, and we see it when we walk down the street. Not everything is what you think, and a great many of times the reality of what is taking place is pushed to the background of the world, hidden from the eyes that are not trained to see it.
When I first planned to sit down here and talk to all of you, to give you my opinions on what is going on around the WCF, I planned at length to tell you all my feelings about Teo Blaze, but that I know is not what the WCF needs right now. See if I were to tell you how I felt about Teo it would do nothing more than to feed the narrative Teo has already lain out. Reality is Teo is a super talented wrestler, a man who deserves all the accolades and things he has earned, there are not many who can do the things he does in the ring.
Twice I have stepped into the ring with the King of Media, and twice the King of Media has taken me down. He seemed to always be a step ahead of me, more prepared then I was, and because of that he was able to get the win. But things do change overtime, we encounter things in our lives that will make us rethink ourselves, rethink our strategies, and more accurately rethink the world.
Have you ever had that moment when someone says something to you, something so minor, and yet so strong that you find yourself unable to put their words out of your mind? I have had that moment, a moment that was given to me courtesy of Teo himself. You see the first time we stepped into the ring Teo called me a bully, something I would have never considered myself to be, but something at the end of the day I am. But it wasn’t the thought of myself being the bully that caught my mind, that wrapped my thoughts up for hours at end every night. No it was the concept of what is a bully that made my mind work overtime, that kept me up night after night.
You see Merriam Webster has a great many of definitions for what a bully is. Take first ‘a blustering, brow beating person. What does this mean you might ask? It’s someone who is habitually cruel, insulting, or threatening to others who are weaker, smaller, or in some way vulnderable. Secondly let’s look at the Verb form of Bully, ‘to treat someone in cruel, insulting, threatening, or aggressive fashion.’ What might this mean? It’s simple at the end of the day, we each and every one of us is at some point and time in our lives, a bully.
This sickens me when I think about it, not the fact that you or I are bullies. No what sickens me is that a man like Teo would sit in a chair, not unlike this one, sip fine liquor, and have the nerve to call me a bully. All the while knowing his own past, knowing his own transgressions, he would still have the audacity to pretend he was somehow more refined than anyone else. But then they do say that the ground is littered with those that the people at the top had to step on to climb the mountain.
So Teo let me postulate a question to you. Think back on all the people you had to step on, to everyone that helped you to become the person you are today, consider all of the people you bullied all for your own personal gain, and consider for one moment how your actions affected all of them. See deep down inside you will tell the world you did what you had too, hell you probably tell yourself that as well when you have the nightmares of your past transgressions.
See me, I’m ok with everything I have done, to be honest I feel no remorse for a single thing. Sure a great deal of it is what you would call terrible, or deplorable, and hell it did make me a bully. The difference between me and you Teo, is I’m not trying to be someone I’m not. No I don’t run from my past, don’t run from what I have done, I wear it on my chest like a badge of honor, because all of those people that I stepped on, they were just as ready to step on me if I had let them.
Twice I let you step on me, twice I let you get the better of me, not because I wanted too, but because I didn’t understand what I was getting into. Things have changed Teo, and for the first time in a long time you are not going into a match the most prepared man in the ring, you are going into a match the man with a target on his back, not because you have a title, not because you are great, but because at the end of the day, I’m going to be the bigger bully in the ring.
The light over the camera cut off and Vincent uncrossed his legs. “Someone get me some god damn actually tea, holding this damn empty mug only made me thirsty.” A young woman ran over and took the mug, then disappeared out of the area.
“You big bully.” The small Asian woman said as she glided across the area to Vincent’s side and handed him a cup of tea.
“Herbal?” Vincent asked.
“You dick head, you know it green tea with hint of Mango and Peach. Now drink up asshole.” She winked at him and sat on the arm of the oversized arm chair. Vincent shifted in the chair to better face her.
“You ever wonder how people would feel if they knew there was a cure D.I.D.?” Vincent casually asked.
“Never cross my mind. I worry more about the few people who want help, not the ones who want to make money of their illness and do dumb TV show.” The woman sipped her own tea as Vincent did the same.
“I get it, but I doubt people are trying to profit off it on a regular basis.” Vincent replied.
“You stupid, people profit off anything, you know better than anyone. You say so yourself in big long winded monologue you just do.” The woman slapped Vincent on the back of his head. “Don’t pretend be dumb like everyone else, you too good for that.” She slipped off the chair took a sip of her tea and started to walk away.
“You think I have a chance?” Vincent asked.
“He too good for you Vincent, you need more practice, not sit in front of camera and talk.” The woman said before slipping out of the side door of the studio.’
“Want to do it again Vincent?” A man with a headset asked as he walked over.
“Fuck no!” Vincent shouted as he stood up and downed the tea. “How fucking dumb are you?” He asked as he pushed past the man and made his way to the door to exit the studio.
“You go win that title Vincent!” The man shouted. Vincent simply shot him the bird as he swung open the door and stepped out of the dark room of the studio into the sunlight. His eyes strained as they worked to adjust to the influx of light, but he saw what he wanted in the parking lot. He strode slow half squinting until he reached the white Malibu and slipped into the passenger seat.
“What do you have for me?” Vincent asked.
“Everything is done, sell went through, all quiet and on the DL, shell companies and subsidiaries and what not. Important thing is you won, and no one knows it was you.” The man handed Vincent a brown envelope.
Vincent opened the envelope, peaked inside and nodded before securing it back up. “Jayson doesn’t know what is coming. Remember keep this between us, we don’t change anything, this will be all the leverage I need to get what I want.” Vincent winked and slipped out of the Malibu.
As the car drove off, Vincent slipped the envelope into his jacket and stared at the sky for a moment, taking in a deep breath.
Somethings just seem to work out, somethings just seem to fall apart. Life is nothing more than a shit show, and we are the ones forced to live it. But if you plan hard, you pay enough attention and you get your ducks in a row, sometimes you can make things go your way. Teo, this week isn’t your week, I’m taking that title from you, not because I want it, but because you truly don’t deserve to have it. I’d normal tell you what all of this added up to, but you and I both know you can do even the most simple of math, so I’ll let you solve the equation yourself, even you can do the math in your head.
Vincent winked, turned, and strode off into the parking lot, walking with a confidence he only recently had refound.
