Post by Allen Guiliano on Sept 25, 2009 17:03:26 GMT -5
As the scene opens, a European countryside becomes visible as the sun rises over the horizon and shines down on the town of Sorrento, Italy. The brilliant yellows, oranges, and blues of the morning sky reflect off an edifice of adobe that sits just off a cobblestone road. The camera slowly pans down the face of the building, stopping at arched entrance. Just to the right of the opening stands a black, wrought iron table with a pair of chairs to match. A pure white tablecloth has been tossed over the table to hide the raw elements underneath, an uncorked bottle of Italian red wine sitting at its center. Two men sit relaxing back against the chairs, a pair of table settings in front of them. The porcelain plates have been cleared of their original contents as the men raise their goblets and share a toast before bringing the glasses to their lips and enjoying the crimson liquid.
Both gentlemen are dressed in casual attire that consist of comfortable khaki slacks and untucked linen shirts of different colors. The man on the left wears a light red top, while his colleague on the right is adorned in one of a soft sea green hue. As the camera pans in closer, both men can be identified as WCF superstar Allen Guiliano and his long-time friend Sergio Viola. Viola is next in line to take over a prominent Italian olive oil business and befriended Guiliano at a young age when both were growing up in Sicily, learning the habits of La Casa Nostra and the importance of the honor, family, and the all important code of silence known as omerta. As the camera makes its way in tighter on the seating arrangement, conversation can now be heard between the two native sons who have returned to their homeland.
Viola; Been a long time since I’ve sat outside this place. Probably back when we were teenagers fresh off the boat from Sicily before you headed off to New York.
Guiliano: Been a long time since I have even been on Italian soil, I can’t even begin to remember the last time I was on Sorrento. It has been way too long if you ask me. So peaceful here, such a different pace on life than back in Vegas. I wish I had the time to get back here more often, but honestly there is just nothing here for me anymore. The family is gone and I don’t like the attention I get back home in Palermo. I get enough of that roaming the streets of Las Vegas.
Ah, come on now Antoni, they just love you and appreciate what you have done for yourself. It’s nice for them to see someone who escaped the wars and made a legitimate living. That’s something that just didn’t exist around here for such a long time. You should welcome them with open arms and be happy where you came from instead of staying away and living a private life in your lavish homes and enjoying your wealth all by yourself.
It was the first time that the casino owner had been called by his given name since he had left the boot. It wasn’t something that he particularly liked to be called, but given the past that he shared with Viola, he actually welcomed the thoughts of his upbringing. Sergio was simply trying to put things back in perspective for the Americanized Guiliano and make him feel like a son of Italy once again.
It’s not about wanting to stay away at all. I would love to come back to the motherland much more often, but I simply don’t have the time. I’m sure you are aware of my new career, the one that really got my name on the side of billboards here in Italia. I try to send as much as I can back to Palermo and donated very graciously after peace finally started to prevail and it was time to rebuild and modernize my birth place. Don’t tell me you don’t like to get away once in awhile and simply enjoy what you have acquired instead of being hounded all the time by people back home. I know that we are superstars and beloved by our people, but basking in it isn’t what I’m about. I’m about making myself a better businessman, expanding what I already own, and becoming the first name you think of when referring to sports entertainment or the gaming business. I haven’t forgotten where I came from and I haven’t forgotten how lucky I am to be brought up in such a traditional Sicilian household. Don’t ever accuse me of forgetting where I came from. Don’t know if you have noticed or not, every time I step into the ring in the WCF, I dedicate it to this place where we sit right now. Forza Italia!
You know I can’t keep up with all that stuff happening overseas. My focus is on olives and olive oil production, not professional wrestling, Antoni. Besides, the only sport that matters around here is football, or is it soccer to you now as well? That reminds me; I got a little something for you before making the trip over here to the café.
Viola reaches up inside his shirt and carefully pulls out a soccer jersey that contains the colors of the club in Palermo. Guilaino extends his hand and a smile comes over his face as he accepts the black and pink top and opens it up, looking over it before folding it neatly in his lap.
Ah, this is perfect for my office back home. I will have it framed and hang it on the wall and remind those who scoff at me having a pink soccer kit hanging above my chair that they are insulting the colors of my homeland. I have been meaning to snatch one up, but haven’t had the time to attend in a game since I have actually been able to afford the authentic kit. Because, let’s be honest, the cheap replicas just won’t do. But, just to let you know that I haven’t forgotten about “the only sport that matters” here, I have something to show you as well.
Guiliano undoes his outer red shirt, unbuttoning it all the way, revealing the blue jersey that has been hiding underneath representing the Italian national team. Before Viola can say a word, Guiliano extends a hand to quiet him before he turns around and reveals the signatures of each of the national players that captured the World Cup title for The Azzurri in 2006. Names such as Buffon, Totti, Del Piero, Toni, Pirlo, and Gattuso can be clearly made out in the gold ink that decorates the rear of the jersey. Viola’s eyes open wide as he sees the precious signatures of Italy’s most treasured team. Once again, before he can utter a word in his excitement, Guiliano pulls off the shirt and tosses it into Sergio’s lap. He replaces it with the one pink and black one that was given to him by Viola just moments earlier before refastening the buttons of his red over shirt.
Picked that up for you a few years back and have been waiting for the right moment to give it to you. I figured out here in front of this fine establishment after a breakfast of peppers and eggs and a bottle of wine would be a perfect setting for such an exchange.
You are absolutely unbelievable. Where in the hell did you find this? Or a better question, how did you acquire it and make it all the way here without someone ripping it directly from your body? I have seen many amazing things and received several priceless and precious gifts, but none of quite this magnitude. I knew that heart of yours was still red, white, and green.
Don’t worry about where I got it, just accept it as a gift for a longtime friend of mine that not only that jersey but so much more. You have been there for me even before I was Allen Guiliano and I figured it was the least I could do. I will tell you that I did witness the signatures being put on the back and I didn’t simply buy it, but had a contact that said he might be able to pull something off and he came through for me. And of course the heart that beats in my chest is still one of a Sicilian that hasn’t forgotten his roots.
Viola remains silent, continuing to admire and count the signatures that adorn the back of the shirt. Allen shakes his head and simply smiles, knowing that it is nearly impossible to leave Sergio speechless, especially after a meal like the one that they just enjoyed and when the topic of their home country becomes the topic of conversation. Guiliano leans back and rests his wingtipped shoes on the edge of the table as he finishes the last bit of wine that remains in the bottom of his glass, raising a brow at Viola, waiting for him to comment. Viola quickly slips the jersey on over his head, standing up and looking over himself, admiring the newly received apparel. He then extends a hand toward the seated Guiliano, who quickly obliges and takes the hand of his childhood acquaintance.
So, word around here tells me that you have something of importance coming up this weekend in New York. Now, as I told you before, I don’t have time to follow your scene on the professional wrestling circuit, but some things that get printed in the newspapers are hard to ignore. The buzz surrounding you over here is growing everyday and I think you need to explain it to me, because as long as you have been competing over there in the States, not once have I ever caught wind of event you were taking part in. What is different about this one? What makes it “global” news if you will?
Oh, it’s just the biggest event in all of professional wrestling. The entire roster of the federation that I am currently with will be competing in a single match to determine who will get the next chance at becoming World Champion. Each man enters in a predetermined order and can only be eliminated by being pinned or being submitted and yours truly has the luxury of entering the event in the 30th position. Will be nice for me to head back to New York for something like this instead of what I originally headed to the Big Apple for.
That is a very true statement. I suppose I can now understand why this is such a big deal, but let me get something straight. All this media coverage, all this marketing, all this…talk and IF you do manage to win you only get a CHANCE at becoming the number one guy? You fight through 29 other guys and all you get in a simple CHANCE? Sounds like some bullshit to me, but hey if this is what you do, who am I to belittle it? Go out there and give them hell Antoni. I won’t be watching it on television but I am sure I will hear the news over in Palermo if you happen to emerge victorious.
Well, they better go ahead and start the presses over hear and order some extra newsprint because I guarantee you that I will be the one that comes out on top. Sure, I know it’s only for a shot at the World Title and that seems like a small reward for such a big feat, but a place in a championship match in the WCF is very precious. They don’t take place very often and chances are if I don’t make the most of the one I am about to earn, I won’t get another chance at it anytime soon. There are more than a handful of guys out there that would love to be in my position and I seem to be the one that everyone is gunning for.
Seem to the one that everyone is gunning for? Poor choice of words, Antoni. The one that everyone was gunning for was your father, and don’t even pretend to know what he was going through once he sent you away. I understand that this is important to you, but once again, I believe you are forgetting where you come from and the opportunities that were given to you after Antoni Sr. decided to put you on a plane to the United States. You have my best wishes and I always hope that you will succeed in everything that you do, but don’t mention anything about weapons or war when referring to your life as a wrestler or businessman. On that note, I think you need to pay a visit to your father’s final resting place before you head back home. I think it might provide you with some inspiration for your upcoming bout.
Sergio, you know that they didn’t reveal the burial plot of my father to anyone. I was nearly treated as an enemy when I even inquired about it a few years ago. If there is something that you know that I don’t I suggest you let me know before I go asking around myself, because I’m sure there are people here who would be willing to tell me just about anything at this moment in time, especially the way you talk about how my name is circulating through the press.
Let me put it this way…that Palermo shirt was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to gifts from me to you. Follow me Antoni, I have something that I think you need to see.
Viola slips a wallet from his back pocket and removes a brown leather wallet, pulling out a generous amount of Euro and placing it face down on the table, slipping it under the edge of the now empty wine bottle. Guiliano stares at him with anticipation in his eyes as the smaller built Viola makes his way to the back of the building where his Alfa Romeo is waiting. Both men enter the vehicle as Sergio turns the key and awakes the engine under the hood, driving down a remote road that connects to the cobblestone path a few hundred yards from the restaurant. The camera stays behind the vehicle, picking up the conversation from within.
So where the hell are you taking me, because I recall that the airport for me to get back is in the opposite direction. And if this is some kind of hit on my life for something I did years ago, I would rather you just go ahead and do it yourself, because it would be an insult for a stranger to pull the trigger that ended my life.
Viola glares over at him with piercing eyes, placing a firm hand on Guiliano’s thigh, squeezing tightly. His breathing quickens as if he is trying to hold something back.
Always expecting the worst of me aren’t you? Antoni, you know if I were going to knock you off I would have had the courtesy of doing it myself after you got to enjoy a meal like the one we just had. And I sure in the hell wouldn’t allow myself to spill blood on the colors of our hometown. Glad to see that I could get you back to thinking like you used to years ago when we had to constantly glance over our shoulder and look around every corner before we could take a step. You underestimate the way the things that simply haven’t changed in the mere 10 years that you have been away. I have something very important to show you and you need to sit back and relax. Besides, I wouldn’t keep the Italian people from witnessing your event coming up in New York.
The vehicle quickly takes a sharp right off the remote road and continues up to a single tree that stands in a barren landscape. The tree is bearing the fruit of Viola’s labors; olives. Both doors slowly open as Sergio walks up to the tree and plucks an olive from a branch before continuing about 100 yards to the east of the tree. He places his foot on the ground next to a small stone slab. That slab looks normal enough, but has clearly been placed at the location for a reason. Guiliano reaches into his left pocket and pulls out a pair of sunglasses, placing them over his eyes, not to shield the sun’s rays, but to hide the tears that are beading up in the corner of his eye. The WCF superstar glances over at Viola for approval that he is assuming what he seemingly knows to be true. Sergio confirms his thought with a simple nod of his head and slowly walks away after embracing Guiliano.
Another vehicle will be coming for you in about an hour. I figured that would be ample time for you to pay your respects and get a hold of your emotions before you had to go back to the airport. The driver has already been tipped and paid for so don’t worry about anything, just get on your plane and go win your match. Fight like a Sicilian and there is no doubt you will achieve what you want. It was nice seeing you again and you are welcome to my home anytime you wish to come back. Arrivederci Antoni.
Viola slowly walks away from the still silent Guiliano, making sure the final words that he spoke to his dear friend were in their native tongue. The silent whirring of the engine can once again be heard in the distance as the Alfa Romeo makes its way back down the same road in which it arrived. The camera’s focus remains on Guiliano as he slowly falls to knees and runs his hand slowly over the granite rock that marks the final resting place of his father. His lips begin to quiver as he unbuttons his shirt once again and removes the pink and black soccer jersey from underneath. He folds it into a perfect square and carefully places it under the stone before rising to his feet once again and taking in the surrounding area. He removes his sunglasses knowing that Viola is now gone and exposes a tear that is running down over his cheekbone and continues down his face, falling onto the dirt, leaving a darkened blemish next to the stone.
Guiliano attempts to regain his composure, slipping his sunglasses back over his eyes, simply staring at the ground, reminiscing about the times he spent with his father and lets out a sigh, relieving the tension and doubt that they would ever find the actual burial place of one of the most notorious Mafia leaders in Sicily. Not being able to ask why Sorrento was chosen as the final site for his father’s plot, Guiliano realizes he will simply have to wonder or wait until he sees Sergion once again, a meeting that has been very rare since he has established himself in Las Vegas. Allen apologizes to his father for his earlier comment about the others “gunning” for him at the WCF’s next pay-per-view event and almost chuckles as he realizes that it is indeed known as War.
How ironic is it that we name our most prestigious event in the WCF after something that has taken the most important person in my life from me. The entire roster seems to be focused on their training, on their preparation, and on their promises of how they will win War VIII, and here I am, back home, standing over the grave of a man whose body was supposedly never found; a man who lost in life in a real war, in a real battle, fighting for his family. Makes me realize the importance of a true cause and true determination, and has simply added to my motivation to come out the victor on Sunday night. No, it is not because it would make my father proud, he was already a happy man just seeing his only son succeed in a legitimate business. The wrestling career was something for personal pride and personal achievement, not to prove anything to anyone, but to gain back the respect that I once had in this business. I think it obvious that I have gained that respect from most of my competitors this weekend by the words that they have spoken about me leading up to this event, but until I win an event such as this, it will not truly sink in.
My mind is now truly 100% free of all distractions, the skeletons in my closest have finally been revealed to the rest of the World Championship Federation, and the final piece of my mysterious childhood has now been resolved. All distractions are now free from my mind and there is only one thing left to focus on and that is becoming the next World Champion of the WCF. For me, it’s not for the publicity, it’s not for the fame, it’s not even for the television shows and endorsements that come along with winning an event of this magnitude. For Allen Guiliano, it is simply about putting on a show for the fans, earning the respect of my colleagues, and becoming the best wrestler in the business. My entire country is behind me despite the lack of coverage that our sport receives outside of the United States and you better believe that I will not let them down.
A new fire has been lit inside me with this trip back to the homeland, a new determination has emerged, and the 29 others that will join me in the ring at Madison Square Garden have not seen the best that I have to offer. As of late my record has been suffering due to the tag matches I have been placed in, but it was not any fault of mine that my tag partners have failed to be at their best or have simply been overmatched when they made their way between the ropes and into the ring. This is the ultimate singles match and one where I control my own destiny. The only way for me to lose this match is for someone to actually eliminate me and that has only been done one time in my career here in the WCF and I have promised to never let it happen again. I watched my United States Championship be removed from my waist as another man was pinned, causing ME to be the victim. Sure, there may be people that have already been eliminated by the time I get to make my way down to the ring, but I will make it my personal goal to get rid of everyone left in that squared circle after I reach the end of the ramp and slide into the ring. All the training and preparation in the world will not prepare the WCF for what they are about to see on Sunday. My hardcore skills have already been exposed in previous matches, one in which I earned the final spot in the War, but others will have to be unveiled at War if I want my chance at the top spot in this organization.
We are less than three days away from a defining event in the career of any wrestler that has the privilege of being employed by Seth Lerch and here I stand, out in the Italian sun, the final resting place of one of the greatest Mafia Dons in history at my feet. Think what you want about how I am not taking this event seriously and arrogantly thinking I will win just because I will be the last to enter the ring. But this trip has just awakened a sleeping giant inside an already determined Sicilian.
As he finishes his sentence he makes his way slowly back to the olive tree to seek relief from the now blazing sun. He continues to glance in the direction of the makeshift grave marker, letting the trunk of the tree rest in the arch of his back. As time passes, a cloud of dust can be seen on the horizon, the vehicle that Viola promised, making its way toward the location of Guiliano. A well-dressed man emerges from the small convertible and opens the passenger’s side door for the awaiting WCF superstar. Guiliano places one leg in the car and then the other before relaxing against the seat, slipping his sunglass onto the pocket of his shirt, noticing his personal belongings already in the back seat. He glances over at the driver with a confused look.
Where exactly are we headed and why are my things in the back seat?
Driver: We are headed to the airport Antoni. Sergio had your things shipped over while you guys were enjoying breakfast. A personal plane will be waiting for you there and he instructed me to tell you not to worry about a thing and you will be well taken care of on your flight to New York. Compliments of Mr. Viola, sir. Also, it is nice to finally meet the son of such a wonderful man.
Allen can only shake his head as he relaxes back in the seat once more and closes his eyes, enjoying the wind through his jet black hair, fully relaxing for the first time in years. The scene fades to black as the camera loses sight of the vehicle as it passes the same black iron table that was site of a life changing exchange.
Both gentlemen are dressed in casual attire that consist of comfortable khaki slacks and untucked linen shirts of different colors. The man on the left wears a light red top, while his colleague on the right is adorned in one of a soft sea green hue. As the camera pans in closer, both men can be identified as WCF superstar Allen Guiliano and his long-time friend Sergio Viola. Viola is next in line to take over a prominent Italian olive oil business and befriended Guiliano at a young age when both were growing up in Sicily, learning the habits of La Casa Nostra and the importance of the honor, family, and the all important code of silence known as omerta. As the camera makes its way in tighter on the seating arrangement, conversation can now be heard between the two native sons who have returned to their homeland.
Viola; Been a long time since I’ve sat outside this place. Probably back when we were teenagers fresh off the boat from Sicily before you headed off to New York.
Guiliano: Been a long time since I have even been on Italian soil, I can’t even begin to remember the last time I was on Sorrento. It has been way too long if you ask me. So peaceful here, such a different pace on life than back in Vegas. I wish I had the time to get back here more often, but honestly there is just nothing here for me anymore. The family is gone and I don’t like the attention I get back home in Palermo. I get enough of that roaming the streets of Las Vegas.
Ah, come on now Antoni, they just love you and appreciate what you have done for yourself. It’s nice for them to see someone who escaped the wars and made a legitimate living. That’s something that just didn’t exist around here for such a long time. You should welcome them with open arms and be happy where you came from instead of staying away and living a private life in your lavish homes and enjoying your wealth all by yourself.
It was the first time that the casino owner had been called by his given name since he had left the boot. It wasn’t something that he particularly liked to be called, but given the past that he shared with Viola, he actually welcomed the thoughts of his upbringing. Sergio was simply trying to put things back in perspective for the Americanized Guiliano and make him feel like a son of Italy once again.
It’s not about wanting to stay away at all. I would love to come back to the motherland much more often, but I simply don’t have the time. I’m sure you are aware of my new career, the one that really got my name on the side of billboards here in Italia. I try to send as much as I can back to Palermo and donated very graciously after peace finally started to prevail and it was time to rebuild and modernize my birth place. Don’t tell me you don’t like to get away once in awhile and simply enjoy what you have acquired instead of being hounded all the time by people back home. I know that we are superstars and beloved by our people, but basking in it isn’t what I’m about. I’m about making myself a better businessman, expanding what I already own, and becoming the first name you think of when referring to sports entertainment or the gaming business. I haven’t forgotten where I came from and I haven’t forgotten how lucky I am to be brought up in such a traditional Sicilian household. Don’t ever accuse me of forgetting where I came from. Don’t know if you have noticed or not, every time I step into the ring in the WCF, I dedicate it to this place where we sit right now. Forza Italia!
You know I can’t keep up with all that stuff happening overseas. My focus is on olives and olive oil production, not professional wrestling, Antoni. Besides, the only sport that matters around here is football, or is it soccer to you now as well? That reminds me; I got a little something for you before making the trip over here to the café.
Viola reaches up inside his shirt and carefully pulls out a soccer jersey that contains the colors of the club in Palermo. Guilaino extends his hand and a smile comes over his face as he accepts the black and pink top and opens it up, looking over it before folding it neatly in his lap.
Ah, this is perfect for my office back home. I will have it framed and hang it on the wall and remind those who scoff at me having a pink soccer kit hanging above my chair that they are insulting the colors of my homeland. I have been meaning to snatch one up, but haven’t had the time to attend in a game since I have actually been able to afford the authentic kit. Because, let’s be honest, the cheap replicas just won’t do. But, just to let you know that I haven’t forgotten about “the only sport that matters” here, I have something to show you as well.
Guiliano undoes his outer red shirt, unbuttoning it all the way, revealing the blue jersey that has been hiding underneath representing the Italian national team. Before Viola can say a word, Guiliano extends a hand to quiet him before he turns around and reveals the signatures of each of the national players that captured the World Cup title for The Azzurri in 2006. Names such as Buffon, Totti, Del Piero, Toni, Pirlo, and Gattuso can be clearly made out in the gold ink that decorates the rear of the jersey. Viola’s eyes open wide as he sees the precious signatures of Italy’s most treasured team. Once again, before he can utter a word in his excitement, Guiliano pulls off the shirt and tosses it into Sergio’s lap. He replaces it with the one pink and black one that was given to him by Viola just moments earlier before refastening the buttons of his red over shirt.
Picked that up for you a few years back and have been waiting for the right moment to give it to you. I figured out here in front of this fine establishment after a breakfast of peppers and eggs and a bottle of wine would be a perfect setting for such an exchange.
You are absolutely unbelievable. Where in the hell did you find this? Or a better question, how did you acquire it and make it all the way here without someone ripping it directly from your body? I have seen many amazing things and received several priceless and precious gifts, but none of quite this magnitude. I knew that heart of yours was still red, white, and green.
Don’t worry about where I got it, just accept it as a gift for a longtime friend of mine that not only that jersey but so much more. You have been there for me even before I was Allen Guiliano and I figured it was the least I could do. I will tell you that I did witness the signatures being put on the back and I didn’t simply buy it, but had a contact that said he might be able to pull something off and he came through for me. And of course the heart that beats in my chest is still one of a Sicilian that hasn’t forgotten his roots.
Viola remains silent, continuing to admire and count the signatures that adorn the back of the shirt. Allen shakes his head and simply smiles, knowing that it is nearly impossible to leave Sergio speechless, especially after a meal like the one that they just enjoyed and when the topic of their home country becomes the topic of conversation. Guiliano leans back and rests his wingtipped shoes on the edge of the table as he finishes the last bit of wine that remains in the bottom of his glass, raising a brow at Viola, waiting for him to comment. Viola quickly slips the jersey on over his head, standing up and looking over himself, admiring the newly received apparel. He then extends a hand toward the seated Guiliano, who quickly obliges and takes the hand of his childhood acquaintance.
So, word around here tells me that you have something of importance coming up this weekend in New York. Now, as I told you before, I don’t have time to follow your scene on the professional wrestling circuit, but some things that get printed in the newspapers are hard to ignore. The buzz surrounding you over here is growing everyday and I think you need to explain it to me, because as long as you have been competing over there in the States, not once have I ever caught wind of event you were taking part in. What is different about this one? What makes it “global” news if you will?
Oh, it’s just the biggest event in all of professional wrestling. The entire roster of the federation that I am currently with will be competing in a single match to determine who will get the next chance at becoming World Champion. Each man enters in a predetermined order and can only be eliminated by being pinned or being submitted and yours truly has the luxury of entering the event in the 30th position. Will be nice for me to head back to New York for something like this instead of what I originally headed to the Big Apple for.
That is a very true statement. I suppose I can now understand why this is such a big deal, but let me get something straight. All this media coverage, all this marketing, all this…talk and IF you do manage to win you only get a CHANCE at becoming the number one guy? You fight through 29 other guys and all you get in a simple CHANCE? Sounds like some bullshit to me, but hey if this is what you do, who am I to belittle it? Go out there and give them hell Antoni. I won’t be watching it on television but I am sure I will hear the news over in Palermo if you happen to emerge victorious.
Well, they better go ahead and start the presses over hear and order some extra newsprint because I guarantee you that I will be the one that comes out on top. Sure, I know it’s only for a shot at the World Title and that seems like a small reward for such a big feat, but a place in a championship match in the WCF is very precious. They don’t take place very often and chances are if I don’t make the most of the one I am about to earn, I won’t get another chance at it anytime soon. There are more than a handful of guys out there that would love to be in my position and I seem to be the one that everyone is gunning for.
Seem to the one that everyone is gunning for? Poor choice of words, Antoni. The one that everyone was gunning for was your father, and don’t even pretend to know what he was going through once he sent you away. I understand that this is important to you, but once again, I believe you are forgetting where you come from and the opportunities that were given to you after Antoni Sr. decided to put you on a plane to the United States. You have my best wishes and I always hope that you will succeed in everything that you do, but don’t mention anything about weapons or war when referring to your life as a wrestler or businessman. On that note, I think you need to pay a visit to your father’s final resting place before you head back home. I think it might provide you with some inspiration for your upcoming bout.
Sergio, you know that they didn’t reveal the burial plot of my father to anyone. I was nearly treated as an enemy when I even inquired about it a few years ago. If there is something that you know that I don’t I suggest you let me know before I go asking around myself, because I’m sure there are people here who would be willing to tell me just about anything at this moment in time, especially the way you talk about how my name is circulating through the press.
Let me put it this way…that Palermo shirt was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to gifts from me to you. Follow me Antoni, I have something that I think you need to see.
Viola slips a wallet from his back pocket and removes a brown leather wallet, pulling out a generous amount of Euro and placing it face down on the table, slipping it under the edge of the now empty wine bottle. Guiliano stares at him with anticipation in his eyes as the smaller built Viola makes his way to the back of the building where his Alfa Romeo is waiting. Both men enter the vehicle as Sergio turns the key and awakes the engine under the hood, driving down a remote road that connects to the cobblestone path a few hundred yards from the restaurant. The camera stays behind the vehicle, picking up the conversation from within.
So where the hell are you taking me, because I recall that the airport for me to get back is in the opposite direction. And if this is some kind of hit on my life for something I did years ago, I would rather you just go ahead and do it yourself, because it would be an insult for a stranger to pull the trigger that ended my life.
Viola glares over at him with piercing eyes, placing a firm hand on Guiliano’s thigh, squeezing tightly. His breathing quickens as if he is trying to hold something back.
Always expecting the worst of me aren’t you? Antoni, you know if I were going to knock you off I would have had the courtesy of doing it myself after you got to enjoy a meal like the one we just had. And I sure in the hell wouldn’t allow myself to spill blood on the colors of our hometown. Glad to see that I could get you back to thinking like you used to years ago when we had to constantly glance over our shoulder and look around every corner before we could take a step. You underestimate the way the things that simply haven’t changed in the mere 10 years that you have been away. I have something very important to show you and you need to sit back and relax. Besides, I wouldn’t keep the Italian people from witnessing your event coming up in New York.
The vehicle quickly takes a sharp right off the remote road and continues up to a single tree that stands in a barren landscape. The tree is bearing the fruit of Viola’s labors; olives. Both doors slowly open as Sergio walks up to the tree and plucks an olive from a branch before continuing about 100 yards to the east of the tree. He places his foot on the ground next to a small stone slab. That slab looks normal enough, but has clearly been placed at the location for a reason. Guiliano reaches into his left pocket and pulls out a pair of sunglasses, placing them over his eyes, not to shield the sun’s rays, but to hide the tears that are beading up in the corner of his eye. The WCF superstar glances over at Viola for approval that he is assuming what he seemingly knows to be true. Sergio confirms his thought with a simple nod of his head and slowly walks away after embracing Guiliano.
Another vehicle will be coming for you in about an hour. I figured that would be ample time for you to pay your respects and get a hold of your emotions before you had to go back to the airport. The driver has already been tipped and paid for so don’t worry about anything, just get on your plane and go win your match. Fight like a Sicilian and there is no doubt you will achieve what you want. It was nice seeing you again and you are welcome to my home anytime you wish to come back. Arrivederci Antoni.
Viola slowly walks away from the still silent Guiliano, making sure the final words that he spoke to his dear friend were in their native tongue. The silent whirring of the engine can once again be heard in the distance as the Alfa Romeo makes its way back down the same road in which it arrived. The camera’s focus remains on Guiliano as he slowly falls to knees and runs his hand slowly over the granite rock that marks the final resting place of his father. His lips begin to quiver as he unbuttons his shirt once again and removes the pink and black soccer jersey from underneath. He folds it into a perfect square and carefully places it under the stone before rising to his feet once again and taking in the surrounding area. He removes his sunglasses knowing that Viola is now gone and exposes a tear that is running down over his cheekbone and continues down his face, falling onto the dirt, leaving a darkened blemish next to the stone.
Guiliano attempts to regain his composure, slipping his sunglasses back over his eyes, simply staring at the ground, reminiscing about the times he spent with his father and lets out a sigh, relieving the tension and doubt that they would ever find the actual burial place of one of the most notorious Mafia leaders in Sicily. Not being able to ask why Sorrento was chosen as the final site for his father’s plot, Guiliano realizes he will simply have to wonder or wait until he sees Sergion once again, a meeting that has been very rare since he has established himself in Las Vegas. Allen apologizes to his father for his earlier comment about the others “gunning” for him at the WCF’s next pay-per-view event and almost chuckles as he realizes that it is indeed known as War.
How ironic is it that we name our most prestigious event in the WCF after something that has taken the most important person in my life from me. The entire roster seems to be focused on their training, on their preparation, and on their promises of how they will win War VIII, and here I am, back home, standing over the grave of a man whose body was supposedly never found; a man who lost in life in a real war, in a real battle, fighting for his family. Makes me realize the importance of a true cause and true determination, and has simply added to my motivation to come out the victor on Sunday night. No, it is not because it would make my father proud, he was already a happy man just seeing his only son succeed in a legitimate business. The wrestling career was something for personal pride and personal achievement, not to prove anything to anyone, but to gain back the respect that I once had in this business. I think it obvious that I have gained that respect from most of my competitors this weekend by the words that they have spoken about me leading up to this event, but until I win an event such as this, it will not truly sink in.
My mind is now truly 100% free of all distractions, the skeletons in my closest have finally been revealed to the rest of the World Championship Federation, and the final piece of my mysterious childhood has now been resolved. All distractions are now free from my mind and there is only one thing left to focus on and that is becoming the next World Champion of the WCF. For me, it’s not for the publicity, it’s not for the fame, it’s not even for the television shows and endorsements that come along with winning an event of this magnitude. For Allen Guiliano, it is simply about putting on a show for the fans, earning the respect of my colleagues, and becoming the best wrestler in the business. My entire country is behind me despite the lack of coverage that our sport receives outside of the United States and you better believe that I will not let them down.
A new fire has been lit inside me with this trip back to the homeland, a new determination has emerged, and the 29 others that will join me in the ring at Madison Square Garden have not seen the best that I have to offer. As of late my record has been suffering due to the tag matches I have been placed in, but it was not any fault of mine that my tag partners have failed to be at their best or have simply been overmatched when they made their way between the ropes and into the ring. This is the ultimate singles match and one where I control my own destiny. The only way for me to lose this match is for someone to actually eliminate me and that has only been done one time in my career here in the WCF and I have promised to never let it happen again. I watched my United States Championship be removed from my waist as another man was pinned, causing ME to be the victim. Sure, there may be people that have already been eliminated by the time I get to make my way down to the ring, but I will make it my personal goal to get rid of everyone left in that squared circle after I reach the end of the ramp and slide into the ring. All the training and preparation in the world will not prepare the WCF for what they are about to see on Sunday. My hardcore skills have already been exposed in previous matches, one in which I earned the final spot in the War, but others will have to be unveiled at War if I want my chance at the top spot in this organization.
We are less than three days away from a defining event in the career of any wrestler that has the privilege of being employed by Seth Lerch and here I stand, out in the Italian sun, the final resting place of one of the greatest Mafia Dons in history at my feet. Think what you want about how I am not taking this event seriously and arrogantly thinking I will win just because I will be the last to enter the ring. But this trip has just awakened a sleeping giant inside an already determined Sicilian.
As he finishes his sentence he makes his way slowly back to the olive tree to seek relief from the now blazing sun. He continues to glance in the direction of the makeshift grave marker, letting the trunk of the tree rest in the arch of his back. As time passes, a cloud of dust can be seen on the horizon, the vehicle that Viola promised, making its way toward the location of Guiliano. A well-dressed man emerges from the small convertible and opens the passenger’s side door for the awaiting WCF superstar. Guiliano places one leg in the car and then the other before relaxing against the seat, slipping his sunglass onto the pocket of his shirt, noticing his personal belongings already in the back seat. He glances over at the driver with a confused look.
Where exactly are we headed and why are my things in the back seat?
Driver: We are headed to the airport Antoni. Sergio had your things shipped over while you guys were enjoying breakfast. A personal plane will be waiting for you there and he instructed me to tell you not to worry about a thing and you will be well taken care of on your flight to New York. Compliments of Mr. Viola, sir. Also, it is nice to finally meet the son of such a wonderful man.
Allen can only shake his head as he relaxes back in the seat once more and closes his eyes, enjoying the wind through his jet black hair, fully relaxing for the first time in years. The scene fades to black as the camera loses sight of the vehicle as it passes the same black iron table that was site of a life changing exchange.
