Post by Allen Guiliano on Dec 18, 2009 0:54:21 GMT -5
A thin beam of light breaks the darkness of the room as the scene opens. The slat in the cheap tin blinds becomes illuminated and the ray of sunshine finds it mark on the awaiting, sleeping face of Allen Guiliano. As the sun slowly continues to rise, so does the white spot on Guiliano’s cheek until the blemish works its way up into his left eye, causing him to flail over onto his right side in an attempt to avoid the oncoming morning. A groan escapes his lips as he turns back over to his opposite side in yet another effort to escape the inevitable. He finally concedes, turning over onto his back and reaching for the small clock that sits upon the end table in his motel room, straining his eyes as they struggle to read the red LEDs in such early stages of awakening. His eyelids finally open enough for him to make out the 6:51 that is gleaming on the face of the clock/radio, forcing another groan as he forcefully places the clock back into its original position.
Guiliano pulls the linens down over his legs, setting his left foot on the floor, then his right before clasping his hands over his head and extending them toward the ceiling, which he nearly touches before slowly stumbling toward sink that resides just a few paces from the end of the bed. The worn knobs squeak with wear as he turns them on, pausing a few moments and waiting for the water to warm before splashing it upon his face. As the water runs down his face and drips off his chiseled jaw line and chin, the Sicilian peers up into the mirror and gives a smirk before shaking his head and picking up a disposable razor and small can of shaving cream from the pseudo-marble lavatory. After a quick lather, he runs the blade down over his cheek, carefully removing the stubble that has magically appeared overnight. He does the same with the other side of his face before another quick splash of water removes the excess shaving cream and leaves him clean shaven for the day to come. The Wednesday before a match that will undoubtedly change his career.
Guiliano makes his way through a small wooden door that separates him from the rest of the bathroom, before wrapping a towel around his waist and removing his shorts, stepping into the once white bathtub before drawing the shower curtain and tossing his towel over the top. After a few turns of both the hot and cold water handles, the water lackadaisically flows from the spigot. A sigh can be heard from inside the curtain and Guiliano pulls the steam on the top of the faucet and watches as the stream from the showerhead is barely more than a trickle.
Really?! A bar of hand soap, a bottle of something that resembles shampoo, and a stream of water that resembles a pissing dog. Can I just get a decent shower?
Guiliano makes due with what he has, quickly making his exit from the tub after rinsing his hair from the weak flow from above and wrapping the towel back around his waist. Obviously frustrated by the circumstances, he pushes his way back through the door and sifts through a gym bag that rests at the edge of the bed, removing a pair of underwear and a t-shirt before slipping them on under the towel. After a quick trip to the closet, he removes a simple black suit and tie, hurriedly slipping on the trousers and undershirt before knotting the crimson tie around his neck and slipping on a pair of polished black wingtip shoes. Guiliano scans the room with his eyes, picking up after himself and collecting his belongings before tossing them into the bag and throwing the strap over his shoulder, collecting his suit jacket from the back of the chair. He gently pats his pockets, hearing the jingle of his eyes and a few coins in the left and feeling his cell phone and wallet in his right before exiting the room, locking the door behind him, chuckling at the trio of 1s that make up his room number of 111.
Irony rears its head once again. Like I need any more reminders…
The now usual looking Guiliano starts down the sidewalk, bag in hand, to turn in his key and get back to normal hustle and bustle of his everyday affairs. His shoes clack across the concrete as he reaches into his inside jacket pocket and removes a pair of sunglass, slipping them onto his face and giving a quick glance down at his watch seeing the hands approach the 8:00 position. As he glances back up, here is a mere ten or so paces from the door of the office and plucks the room key from his pocket, holding it tightly in his hand as he pushes open the white screen door.
The man behind the desk is fully relaxed, shoes upon the desk in front of him, leaned back in a dark green leather chair riddled with nicks, cuts, tears, and other impurities. He directs his glance from the small television in front of him to the awaiting customer on the other side of the counter and simple raises an eyebrow to show that he is attentive. Guiliano flashes a quick smile and rests his hand on the countertop, the key under his palm as he slowly sides it forward, revealing it to the clerk.
I’m ready to checkout. You need anything else from me besides the key?
The man slowly shakes his head and takes the key, swiveling around in his chair and glancing down at the number imprinted on its face before hanging it on a corkboard that is peppered with individual hooks for each room number. He slips the opening in the key over the hook with the number 111 written over it in permanent marker and tips Dodgers cap upon his head in the direction of Guiliano.
Um…I don’t mean to be an asshole or anything I realize you are just an employee, but the water pressure in the shower of Room 111 is a little low. Didn’t know if you needed to turn that in to maintenance or something. Other than that, thank you for your hospitality.
Man behind desk – Maintenance? I suppose I am maintenance, but I ain’t done any maintenance work in years. Guess I will have to call out and get it fixed. Thanks for the heads up.
You are quite welcome. So…if you are maintenance, then who is the guy that usually sits behind that desk and what exactly is it that you do here if you haven’t done any maintenance work in years?
Man behind desk – Son, I’m maintenance, desk clerk, security guard, room service, maid service, valet parking, and anything else that you might possibly need.
Room service huh? Well, if you don’t mind me asking, I think I would like some breakfast to go. You don’t have to make anything, but you know, breakfast of the continental variety.
As Guiliano finishes his sarcastic comment, the man, rises up out of the chair and begins to walk back into a small office that resides behind his post.
Oh, you don’t have to do that, I was just…
Before he can complete his statement, an orange comes flying through the doorway to the back and the man reemerges with no expression on his face, just returning to his chair and resting his feet back up on the desk.
Man – That good enough for ya or you want me to peel it too?
This will be fine. Thank you. When I get back in town I will be sure to call and comment on the hospitality I received a checkout. Can I get your name so I know who to reference?
Man – Joe.
Alright. I will make sure to give credit where credit is due then and make sure that I tell…Wait a minute? Did you say your name was Joe? As in the guy who’s name is on the sign outside?
Joe – Yeah. What’s it to ya?
Oh, nothing, just didn’t expect to actually meet Joe when I checked into Motel Joe. Thought it was just a play on words or something. Also, didn’t think that the owner of this place would be working before 8:00 AM. I know other motel/hotel owners that don’t come in that early on most days.
Joe barely acknowledges that he has even been spoken to as he keeps his attention on the small screen, reaching forward and turning up the volume.
Joe – Well, I didn’t exactly expect to meet you either when I came in this morning, but I’ll be damned, here you are standing right in front of me.
I see. Well, I best be getting on my way. You have a wonderful day.
[color=orangeJoe – Yip. You too. Enjoy that breakfast I made for ya Slick.[/color]
Guiliano prepares to proceed out the opposing door to the parking lot and stops suddenly, raising the toes on his left foot as if he is going to spin on his heel. He shakes his head and lets out a nearly inaudible chuckle before deciding against and continuing on his way. As he steps foot into the gravel lot, Guiliano retrieves his cell phone from his pocket and quickly presses seven digits before pressing the send button and raising it to his ear.
(ringing….ringing…ringing…ringing)
Mitch – Yeah, this is Mitch from the Guiliano Hotel and Casino.
I know who it is. You and Stan still on your wild goose chase or did you give up yet?
Mitch – Mr. Guiliano?! That you? Yeah, we are still out looking for you. Well, we called it a night around 1:30 AM last night, but we were planning on…
Save it for the trip to the airport. I need a ride and I figured I’d better call one of the two of you so you will still have jobs come Thursday morning. Don’t think it would be good for you if I showed up alone and you were out there in the middle of the desert. So…you know that diner that you guys were at the other day?
Mitch – Yeah, I remember it. What about it? Wait a minute! How did you…
Like I said before, save the questions. Just start driving in the direction and look for a dirt road off to the left, turn onto it and just keep driving. I will be walking your direction. Don’t ask where I was because I won’t tell you and if you keep driving to figure out where it was, I’ll leave the both of you there by yourselves. Now, go get Stan and start driving. I’m going to have a little breakfast while the two of you make your way out here.
Mitch – Alright, we will be right there…STAN!
The call ends abruptly as Guiliano slides his phone shut and slips it back into his pants pocket, tossing the fruit a couple of times in his hand before starting to peel it as he begins his walk down the long lonesome road to the highway hoping two of his employees reach him before the Vegas sun begins to beat down on him too bad.
The camera follows a trotting Mitch as he looks for his partner in crime and makes his way into the back room to fetch the jacket that contains the keys to his own personal vehicle. He chaotically removes his employee issued jacket and tosses it into the locker that bears his name, slamming it shut and frantically continuing his search. As he leaves the room and the door closes behind him, he rounds a corner and nearly runs into Stan who has just emerged from the bathroom and is casually zipping up his pants.
Stan – Hey, where are you going in such a hurry? Something happen at home? Anything I can help you with?
Mitch – Guiliano called and told me where he was at. Said we should come get him immediately if we want to keep our jobs until tomorrow. C’mon man we gotta go!
Stan – Holy shit! Alright, I’m right behind you. You do the driving since you know where he’s at!
The two individuals rush down the hallway and out a back entrance scurrying to a white Pontiac Grand Am. Mitch quickly unlocks the door, reaching over the passenger’s seat and pushing the opposing door open, shoving debris off his front seat to the floorboard to make room for Stan and turns the key in the ignition. Stan quickly hops in and pulls the door handle behind him and turns to Mitch.
Stan – We are going to pick up the owner of our place of employment in a ’95 Grand Am? You have got to be shitting me.
Mitch – Just shut the hell up. I didn’t have the keys to the company SUV on me and I don’t think we really have the time to look for them.
Stan – Why? Is someone else being sent to get him as well and there is a race to see who is first or what?
Mitch – No, but he sounded urgent on the phone and I figure he doesn’t really care what we come get him in if he is walking down a dirt road to meet us. He did say he was going to eat breakfast first though.
Stan – Whaddya mean walking down a dirt road? Where in the hell did he say he was?
Mitch – You know that diner that we stopped at the other day…
Stan – Oh HELL no! I’m not going back to that place. I don’t care if Jesus f’n Christ called and told us to meet him there for lunch. No way, no how am I stepping foot in there after what happened last time.
Stan reaches for the door handle and tries to exit the vehicle before Mitch grabs him by the shoulder and pulls him back over, maneuvering the car through the lot and out onto the streets of Sin City for yet a third time.
Mitch – He’s not there. Said that there was some dirt road off to the left and to take it and keep driving. And after we pick him up, to turn around and bring him right back because if we keep going and find out where he was he will leave us there.
Stan – Well, I suppose we better do what he says then...
Mitch – Thank you Captain Obvious.
Guiliano can be seen once again slowly making his up the right side of the remote roadway, switching the gym bag to his left shoulder as it grows heavy on his right. He pops the a final orange slice into his mouth and tosses the remaining peel off to the side as he sees a cloud of dust approaching him off in the distance. He raises his watch and turns his head slightly staring down at it before continuing his relaxed pace. Guiliano’s brow rises slightly as the vehicle begins to come into view and he identifies it as a white car instead of the black Cadillac he is expecting. The vehicle draws closer and closer, eventually stopping about 30 to 40 feet in front of him as the dust cloud continues roll toward him and leaves a thin brown film over his suit as he musters his way through the grime and to the front of the car, flashing a gentle smile, identifying the two men inside.
Stan quickly jumps out and quickly hops into the back seat, allowing Allen to ride shotgun on the trip back to the casino. Guiliano brushes himself off before stepping inside the car and tossing his gym back into the back seat onto the lap of Stan and pulls his door shut.
Don’t bother taking me back to the casino, just turn around and take me straight to the airport.
Mitch – Alright, I can do that, but don’t you want to change clothes first? Sorry about that by the way.
Don’t worry about it. I made a few calls while you guys where on your way. Everything has been taken care of. Take that gym bag back with you and have everything inside washed and dry cleaned and it will all take care of itself.
Stan – Yes sir.
Guiliano reaches down to his right and finds a handle to lean back the seat, relaxing against it as it reclines but is unexpectedly stopped by a foreign object in the rear seat. The Italian glances over his shoulder and shrugs as he sees the car seat behind him.
Didn’t know that you even had kids Mitch. I suppose I should apologize for never asking. I just don’t think it is really appropriate to know what goes on at the homes of my employees.
Mitch – No need to apologize. He is getting a little too big for that seat anyway. Probably time for me to take it out of here and give myself some more room. I can pull over and take care of it if you want to lay your seat all the way back.
No no, just keep driving and if I fall asleep, wake me when you get close to the airport.
Mitch – No a problem. So those questions that you told me to save for the trip to the airport…
Keep saving them.
Mitch – Of course.
The car finally begins to outrun the camera, dust spewing from behind the rear wheels as it makes its way back onto the highway and eventually disappears from view en route to the airport where a plane is waiting to take Guiliano to a residence in Los Angeles.
The white Grand Am makes its way through the bustling avenues of the airport before finding a lone empty space near the end of the drop off/pick up point on the main level. Stan glances over to make sure that Guiliano is still away behind his sunglasses and gives a quick grin once he realizes that his boss has indeed been without slumber. The WCF superstar pulls his seat forward and quickly exits the vehicle, tossing a $100 into the lap of Mitch claiming that it is for “gas money” before quickly making his way inside, disappearing into the throng of people as the automatic sliding door closes behind him.
Once out of sight of the two Guiliano employees, Mitch quickly pulls back out into traffic as an airport security guard is hollering at him to move as his business is finished and other patrons are awaiting his spot. The #1 Contender is soon picked back up by another camera as he hustles his way through the unbelievable lines of security, quickly opening his suit jacket and removing his shoes along with the belongings in his pocket before he is allowed to proceed. The airport guard gives a quick tip of his hat as Guiliano passes through, slipping his shoes on once again and proceeding through a series of walking sidewalks before disappearing into a door labeled “Airport Employees Only”. Once inside the small corridor, he removes his suit jacket, tossing it over his arm and doing the same with his tie as he opens a door at the end of the pathway and hands them both to a waiting armed guard before proceeding to a private hanger. The Italian then reaches up and undoes a the top button on his shirt, quickly climbing the steps up into the aircraft that have been lowered for him and gives a quick smile and nod to the pilot that stands at he bottom of the stairs. He immediately makes his way over to one of the roomy leather seats, nearly throwing himself into the back as the seat takes the form of his athletic frame as if to welcome him. No sooner that he is seated, a stewardess approaches over his left shoulder.
Stewardess – Anything I can get you before we take off sir? Water, tea, coffee, hard beverage?
A dirty gin martini would be wonderful. Thank you very much Stacey, you are the absolute best.
Stacey disappears once again into a small room in the back of the aircraft before emerging just a few moments later with a cocktail glass in tow, the clear liquid disturbed only by the olive at the end of the swizzle stick.
One more thing before you get relaxed. Is Hank here yet? I told him what time we would be leaving and that he was cordially invited to come along, just wondering if he made it or not. Now would be the perfect time for any questions he may have, as I don’t plan on leaving this seat until I see LAX.
Stacey – He is in the lavatory sir. Should be out anytime.
The petite leggy blonde flashes a warm smile, her lips perfectly shaped with ruby red lipstick as she once again disappears behind a white curtain. Guiliano can’t help but catch a glimpse of her derriere before she slips behind the shade and a smirk, followed by a chuckle escapes him. After a few more moments, a relaxed looking Hank Brown emerges from the small white door just a few feet away from the resting Guiliano and takes a seat next to him by the oval window of the plane.
Hank – Well Allen, thanks for the invitation. It will be pleasant to have a few more days out in California than I expected. The WCF was going to send me out on Friday evening, but Wednesday is just fine for me. There anything that you don’t want me ask about to get started. I know this is a big moment for you and I don’t want to fluster you or feel like I have thrown you off your game before the match even starts.
Feel free to ask whatever you want Hank. The flight from Vegas to LA isn’t all that lengthy so I’m not sure how much time I will have for questions. However, at this point, I am willing to answer whatever you are willing to ask. It feels good to finally have everything taken care of except for what matters most…my match at One.
Hank – Alright, first question…What does it feel like to know that you will be headlining One in your first ever match at the WCF’s premiere event? I know that is probably a hard question to answer and obviously you are excited, but try to explain it for me and for the fans who don’t have the opportunity to step into a World Championship Federation ring week in and week out, not to mention for the World Title.
I am absolutely ecstatic to have the opportunity to compete for the most prestigious prize in the WCF, but I also feel that I have done what I need to do each and every week to not just get a title shot, but I feel liked I have EARNED the title shot. For someone who isn’t a sports entertainer, it is nearly impossible to describe the feeling of hearing the voices and feeling the vibe of nearly 80,000 screaming fans, knowing that most of them are pulling for you to come out on top.
The match that Torture and I will have at one will be the center of the sports universe for one night and one night only and we will not disappoint. If I had to try and compare it to the everyday WCF fan, I suppose I would say it is like earning a promotion at your job and after you come out of your office, seeing the entire staff of people applauding your efforts and chanting your name, completely supporting your success. However, you would be working with 79,999 other people and there would be one person who would step in front of your path and try to keep you from earning what is rightfully yours on a weekly basis. To tell you the truth, just walking down the ramp and looking out over the crowd is a blessing, but to have your hand raised and experience victory is indescribable, especially in a match for a championship belt.
Hank – Allen, this isn’t your first title match here in the WCF and it is certainly not the first time you have had your name at the top of the card for a pay per view, but how is preparations for One different than say, the War match, or your match for the United States Championship at Blast?
Well, I think some of the differences are quite obvious. At the War match I knew that I would be the last one to enter the ring and I had a pretty good idea of who I would have to eliminate in order to win that event, but it wasn’t for any tangible prize, it just allowed me to have the opportunity to have my name booked in this match with Torture for the World Championship. As for my U.S. Title match, I feel about the same way this time as I did back in June, only I have many more matches under my belt and I am quite familiar with my opponent. Mikami is a great competitor in his own right and we had quite the battles for the United States Title, but this time around I am facing perhaps the greatest wrestler in the history of the World Championship Federation and he simply doesn’t lose wrestling matches. Both his record and mine in one on one matches is stellar and one of us will have to suffer another tally in the loss column, but I assure you that the one that will be adding a notch in the loss category will also be subtracting some gold from around his waist.
Hank – You have also had quite the reputation for being a very confident wrestling, but it seems this feud with Torture has turned you almost arrogant in some people’s eyes. Is this a sign of what we can expect from Slickie T in the future or just a mental tactic that you have employed for this match with the current World Champion?
I don’t consider myself to be arrogant at all. I have said many times that I know what I am up against and I respect my opponent inside the ring, but I am also very confident that I will be the next World Champion in the WCF. It is time for a changing of the guard in the World Championship Federation and I think I am the man to lead it. We have seen a plethora of new names and faces enter the ranks of the federation and I simply want to be the figure head of the new era. Torture will be known as the dominant figure of the WCF with names like Logan, Jack of Blades, Dake Ken, Creeping Death, Corey Black, Steve Carr, Johnny Reb, and Gravedigger being mentioned with his and I see now reason why Slickie T can’t lead the WCF into a new decade along with the superstars of today such as Jay Price, Greenfever, Kevin Hardaway, Ace Slaughter, Hector Rodriguez, and Jack Cash.
Like I said before Hank, this match is more than just about winning the World Championship; it is about regaining the respect of my peers and showing them that I am just as determined today as I was on May 31st when I made my debut at Aftermath. After all, if I am not confident in my own abilities to win on Sunday night, then why should anyone else be? This isn’t a sign of the things to come, this is what is here right now.
Hank – It seems that you have pulled out every trick in the book to try and get into the head of Torture before your showdown on Sunday. Do things like you acquiring CoolWear Inc. and your mission to seemingly break down the walls of the Team of Torture continue even if you do emerge victorious in Los Angeles?
Absolutely. First and foremost, I am a businessman and I will develop CoolWear Inc. so that it is the best clothing line that the world has to offer. I have connections in all walks of the business world and I will use them as I see fit to put out the best possible product. Sure, Torture thinks that I am turning it into a joke and not handling it properly, but the fact is, it’s MY company now and he is just going to have to go along for the ride.
As for the Team of Torture, I think it is obvious what is going to happen to them in the future. They are simply not stable enough, no pun intended, to continue to operate under the rule of Torture and Seth Lerch. The entire reason for putting this collection of individuals together was to win the War match and assure that Torture would not have to defend his title at One, but I was the wrench in his cog that ruined his grand scheme. Now he will have to face the consequences of his actions as I have created even more turmoil in his illusion of a mind and I think it is quite obvious, regardless of the fact if Torture does manage to retain his title, that the Team of Torture will be no more and one man, Allen Guiliano, will have successfully brought it not only do its knees, but made it extinct.
Hank – Indeed you have been the single man that has been able to infiltrate Torture’s stronghold and cause it to dissolve from the inside out. One final question from me as it seems like we are starting to descend. I know that there are several factors that will arise both before and after your match, but if you do become the next World Champion, who do you see as the next big threat to claim the World Title here in the WCF?
Right now, I am simply focused on the one man that can accurately claim to be the best wrestler in the WCF and can back it up with the World Championship belt that is in his possession. As far as the rest of the roster is concerned, I suppose I will have to concentrate on them and deal with them when they threaten the prize that I will stake my claim to on Sunday night. I think it is very fitting that Torture and I will meet in a coliseum as I am very familiar with the original structure that still stands today in my home country of Italy.
Many times before, when I would have the pleasure of making it to Rome, I would visit the structure and simply stand in the center and wonder what it was like to compete in front of the masses and have your fate decided by the cheers or jeers of the Roman people. To have mere strangers decide if you lived or died, if you were allowed to fight on another day, and if you were to be granted your freedom. I know that the stakes are quite as high on Sunday as they were back in the days of Caesar, but one thing is for certain, there will be two warriors enter the ring on December 20th and they will all but fight to the death to simple hear the masses chant their name and rise to their feet at the end of the battle. I guarantee you this Hank, just like in the days of old, the best man will win, and the best man will have the heart of an Italian. Torture’s reign as ruler of the WCF will come to an end and a new era will begin with a new decade as there will be a new leader to lead the World Championship Federation to future glory.
Hank Brown sits speechless as the now staring eyes of Allen Guiliano cut through him like a hot knife through butter and the expression on Guiliano’s face is one of pure focus and adrenaline. The calm and relaxed man that was once present has been replaced by the warrior inside and the plane continues its decent as the Sicilian rises from his seat and makes it way toward the front of the plane, disappearing into the cockpit to not only see how much longer the flight will last, but also to avoid the currently stunned Brown.
An outside camera placed on the runway at LAX catches the aircraft as it descends through the soft white clouds and the landing gear lowers as puffs of smoke spit from the rubber tires as they meet the pavement below. The jet begins to taxi and slips into an awaiting hanger as the scene fades to black and ghosted faces of Slickie T and Torture come into view, the World Championship belt separating their caricatures as the WCF logo appears.
Guiliano pulls the linens down over his legs, setting his left foot on the floor, then his right before clasping his hands over his head and extending them toward the ceiling, which he nearly touches before slowly stumbling toward sink that resides just a few paces from the end of the bed. The worn knobs squeak with wear as he turns them on, pausing a few moments and waiting for the water to warm before splashing it upon his face. As the water runs down his face and drips off his chiseled jaw line and chin, the Sicilian peers up into the mirror and gives a smirk before shaking his head and picking up a disposable razor and small can of shaving cream from the pseudo-marble lavatory. After a quick lather, he runs the blade down over his cheek, carefully removing the stubble that has magically appeared overnight. He does the same with the other side of his face before another quick splash of water removes the excess shaving cream and leaves him clean shaven for the day to come. The Wednesday before a match that will undoubtedly change his career.
Guiliano makes his way through a small wooden door that separates him from the rest of the bathroom, before wrapping a towel around his waist and removing his shorts, stepping into the once white bathtub before drawing the shower curtain and tossing his towel over the top. After a few turns of both the hot and cold water handles, the water lackadaisically flows from the spigot. A sigh can be heard from inside the curtain and Guiliano pulls the steam on the top of the faucet and watches as the stream from the showerhead is barely more than a trickle.
Really?! A bar of hand soap, a bottle of something that resembles shampoo, and a stream of water that resembles a pissing dog. Can I just get a decent shower?
Guiliano makes due with what he has, quickly making his exit from the tub after rinsing his hair from the weak flow from above and wrapping the towel back around his waist. Obviously frustrated by the circumstances, he pushes his way back through the door and sifts through a gym bag that rests at the edge of the bed, removing a pair of underwear and a t-shirt before slipping them on under the towel. After a quick trip to the closet, he removes a simple black suit and tie, hurriedly slipping on the trousers and undershirt before knotting the crimson tie around his neck and slipping on a pair of polished black wingtip shoes. Guiliano scans the room with his eyes, picking up after himself and collecting his belongings before tossing them into the bag and throwing the strap over his shoulder, collecting his suit jacket from the back of the chair. He gently pats his pockets, hearing the jingle of his eyes and a few coins in the left and feeling his cell phone and wallet in his right before exiting the room, locking the door behind him, chuckling at the trio of 1s that make up his room number of 111.
Irony rears its head once again. Like I need any more reminders…
The now usual looking Guiliano starts down the sidewalk, bag in hand, to turn in his key and get back to normal hustle and bustle of his everyday affairs. His shoes clack across the concrete as he reaches into his inside jacket pocket and removes a pair of sunglass, slipping them onto his face and giving a quick glance down at his watch seeing the hands approach the 8:00 position. As he glances back up, here is a mere ten or so paces from the door of the office and plucks the room key from his pocket, holding it tightly in his hand as he pushes open the white screen door.
The man behind the desk is fully relaxed, shoes upon the desk in front of him, leaned back in a dark green leather chair riddled with nicks, cuts, tears, and other impurities. He directs his glance from the small television in front of him to the awaiting customer on the other side of the counter and simple raises an eyebrow to show that he is attentive. Guiliano flashes a quick smile and rests his hand on the countertop, the key under his palm as he slowly sides it forward, revealing it to the clerk.
I’m ready to checkout. You need anything else from me besides the key?
The man slowly shakes his head and takes the key, swiveling around in his chair and glancing down at the number imprinted on its face before hanging it on a corkboard that is peppered with individual hooks for each room number. He slips the opening in the key over the hook with the number 111 written over it in permanent marker and tips Dodgers cap upon his head in the direction of Guiliano.
Um…I don’t mean to be an asshole or anything I realize you are just an employee, but the water pressure in the shower of Room 111 is a little low. Didn’t know if you needed to turn that in to maintenance or something. Other than that, thank you for your hospitality.
Man behind desk – Maintenance? I suppose I am maintenance, but I ain’t done any maintenance work in years. Guess I will have to call out and get it fixed. Thanks for the heads up.
You are quite welcome. So…if you are maintenance, then who is the guy that usually sits behind that desk and what exactly is it that you do here if you haven’t done any maintenance work in years?
Man behind desk – Son, I’m maintenance, desk clerk, security guard, room service, maid service, valet parking, and anything else that you might possibly need.
Room service huh? Well, if you don’t mind me asking, I think I would like some breakfast to go. You don’t have to make anything, but you know, breakfast of the continental variety.
As Guiliano finishes his sarcastic comment, the man, rises up out of the chair and begins to walk back into a small office that resides behind his post.
Oh, you don’t have to do that, I was just…
Before he can complete his statement, an orange comes flying through the doorway to the back and the man reemerges with no expression on his face, just returning to his chair and resting his feet back up on the desk.
Man – That good enough for ya or you want me to peel it too?
This will be fine. Thank you. When I get back in town I will be sure to call and comment on the hospitality I received a checkout. Can I get your name so I know who to reference?
Man – Joe.
Alright. I will make sure to give credit where credit is due then and make sure that I tell…Wait a minute? Did you say your name was Joe? As in the guy who’s name is on the sign outside?
Joe – Yeah. What’s it to ya?
Oh, nothing, just didn’t expect to actually meet Joe when I checked into Motel Joe. Thought it was just a play on words or something. Also, didn’t think that the owner of this place would be working before 8:00 AM. I know other motel/hotel owners that don’t come in that early on most days.
Joe barely acknowledges that he has even been spoken to as he keeps his attention on the small screen, reaching forward and turning up the volume.
Joe – Well, I didn’t exactly expect to meet you either when I came in this morning, but I’ll be damned, here you are standing right in front of me.
I see. Well, I best be getting on my way. You have a wonderful day.
[color=orangeJoe – Yip. You too. Enjoy that breakfast I made for ya Slick.[/color]
Guiliano prepares to proceed out the opposing door to the parking lot and stops suddenly, raising the toes on his left foot as if he is going to spin on his heel. He shakes his head and lets out a nearly inaudible chuckle before deciding against and continuing on his way. As he steps foot into the gravel lot, Guiliano retrieves his cell phone from his pocket and quickly presses seven digits before pressing the send button and raising it to his ear.
(ringing….ringing…ringing…ringing)
Mitch – Yeah, this is Mitch from the Guiliano Hotel and Casino.
I know who it is. You and Stan still on your wild goose chase or did you give up yet?
Mitch – Mr. Guiliano?! That you? Yeah, we are still out looking for you. Well, we called it a night around 1:30 AM last night, but we were planning on…
Save it for the trip to the airport. I need a ride and I figured I’d better call one of the two of you so you will still have jobs come Thursday morning. Don’t think it would be good for you if I showed up alone and you were out there in the middle of the desert. So…you know that diner that you guys were at the other day?
Mitch – Yeah, I remember it. What about it? Wait a minute! How did you…
Like I said before, save the questions. Just start driving in the direction and look for a dirt road off to the left, turn onto it and just keep driving. I will be walking your direction. Don’t ask where I was because I won’t tell you and if you keep driving to figure out where it was, I’ll leave the both of you there by yourselves. Now, go get Stan and start driving. I’m going to have a little breakfast while the two of you make your way out here.
Mitch – Alright, we will be right there…STAN!
The call ends abruptly as Guiliano slides his phone shut and slips it back into his pants pocket, tossing the fruit a couple of times in his hand before starting to peel it as he begins his walk down the long lonesome road to the highway hoping two of his employees reach him before the Vegas sun begins to beat down on him too bad.
***Guiliano Hotel and Casino***
[/b][/i][/center]The camera follows a trotting Mitch as he looks for his partner in crime and makes his way into the back room to fetch the jacket that contains the keys to his own personal vehicle. He chaotically removes his employee issued jacket and tosses it into the locker that bears his name, slamming it shut and frantically continuing his search. As he leaves the room and the door closes behind him, he rounds a corner and nearly runs into Stan who has just emerged from the bathroom and is casually zipping up his pants.
Stan – Hey, where are you going in such a hurry? Something happen at home? Anything I can help you with?
Mitch – Guiliano called and told me where he was at. Said we should come get him immediately if we want to keep our jobs until tomorrow. C’mon man we gotta go!
Stan – Holy shit! Alright, I’m right behind you. You do the driving since you know where he’s at!
The two individuals rush down the hallway and out a back entrance scurrying to a white Pontiac Grand Am. Mitch quickly unlocks the door, reaching over the passenger’s seat and pushing the opposing door open, shoving debris off his front seat to the floorboard to make room for Stan and turns the key in the ignition. Stan quickly hops in and pulls the door handle behind him and turns to Mitch.
Stan – We are going to pick up the owner of our place of employment in a ’95 Grand Am? You have got to be shitting me.
Mitch – Just shut the hell up. I didn’t have the keys to the company SUV on me and I don’t think we really have the time to look for them.
Stan – Why? Is someone else being sent to get him as well and there is a race to see who is first or what?
Mitch – No, but he sounded urgent on the phone and I figure he doesn’t really care what we come get him in if he is walking down a dirt road to meet us. He did say he was going to eat breakfast first though.
Stan – Whaddya mean walking down a dirt road? Where in the hell did he say he was?
Mitch – You know that diner that we stopped at the other day…
Stan – Oh HELL no! I’m not going back to that place. I don’t care if Jesus f’n Christ called and told us to meet him there for lunch. No way, no how am I stepping foot in there after what happened last time.
Stan reaches for the door handle and tries to exit the vehicle before Mitch grabs him by the shoulder and pulls him back over, maneuvering the car through the lot and out onto the streets of Sin City for yet a third time.
Mitch – He’s not there. Said that there was some dirt road off to the left and to take it and keep driving. And after we pick him up, to turn around and bring him right back because if we keep going and find out where he was he will leave us there.
Stan – Well, I suppose we better do what he says then...
Mitch – Thank you Captain Obvious.
***Approximately 25 Minutes Later***
[/b][/i][/center]Guiliano can be seen once again slowly making his up the right side of the remote roadway, switching the gym bag to his left shoulder as it grows heavy on his right. He pops the a final orange slice into his mouth and tosses the remaining peel off to the side as he sees a cloud of dust approaching him off in the distance. He raises his watch and turns his head slightly staring down at it before continuing his relaxed pace. Guiliano’s brow rises slightly as the vehicle begins to come into view and he identifies it as a white car instead of the black Cadillac he is expecting. The vehicle draws closer and closer, eventually stopping about 30 to 40 feet in front of him as the dust cloud continues roll toward him and leaves a thin brown film over his suit as he musters his way through the grime and to the front of the car, flashing a gentle smile, identifying the two men inside.
Stan quickly jumps out and quickly hops into the back seat, allowing Allen to ride shotgun on the trip back to the casino. Guiliano brushes himself off before stepping inside the car and tossing his gym back into the back seat onto the lap of Stan and pulls his door shut.
Don’t bother taking me back to the casino, just turn around and take me straight to the airport.
Mitch – Alright, I can do that, but don’t you want to change clothes first? Sorry about that by the way.
Don’t worry about it. I made a few calls while you guys where on your way. Everything has been taken care of. Take that gym bag back with you and have everything inside washed and dry cleaned and it will all take care of itself.
Stan – Yes sir.
Guiliano reaches down to his right and finds a handle to lean back the seat, relaxing against it as it reclines but is unexpectedly stopped by a foreign object in the rear seat. The Italian glances over his shoulder and shrugs as he sees the car seat behind him.
Didn’t know that you even had kids Mitch. I suppose I should apologize for never asking. I just don’t think it is really appropriate to know what goes on at the homes of my employees.
Mitch – No need to apologize. He is getting a little too big for that seat anyway. Probably time for me to take it out of here and give myself some more room. I can pull over and take care of it if you want to lay your seat all the way back.
No no, just keep driving and if I fall asleep, wake me when you get close to the airport.
Mitch – No a problem. So those questions that you told me to save for the trip to the airport…
Keep saving them.
Mitch – Of course.
The car finally begins to outrun the camera, dust spewing from behind the rear wheels as it makes its way back onto the highway and eventually disappears from view en route to the airport where a plane is waiting to take Guiliano to a residence in Los Angeles.
***Outside McCarren International Airport***
[/b][/i][/center]The white Grand Am makes its way through the bustling avenues of the airport before finding a lone empty space near the end of the drop off/pick up point on the main level. Stan glances over to make sure that Guiliano is still away behind his sunglasses and gives a quick grin once he realizes that his boss has indeed been without slumber. The WCF superstar pulls his seat forward and quickly exits the vehicle, tossing a $100 into the lap of Mitch claiming that it is for “gas money” before quickly making his way inside, disappearing into the throng of people as the automatic sliding door closes behind him.
Once out of sight of the two Guiliano employees, Mitch quickly pulls back out into traffic as an airport security guard is hollering at him to move as his business is finished and other patrons are awaiting his spot. The #1 Contender is soon picked back up by another camera as he hustles his way through the unbelievable lines of security, quickly opening his suit jacket and removing his shoes along with the belongings in his pocket before he is allowed to proceed. The airport guard gives a quick tip of his hat as Guiliano passes through, slipping his shoes on once again and proceeding through a series of walking sidewalks before disappearing into a door labeled “Airport Employees Only”. Once inside the small corridor, he removes his suit jacket, tossing it over his arm and doing the same with his tie as he opens a door at the end of the pathway and hands them both to a waiting armed guard before proceeding to a private hanger. The Italian then reaches up and undoes a the top button on his shirt, quickly climbing the steps up into the aircraft that have been lowered for him and gives a quick smile and nod to the pilot that stands at he bottom of the stairs. He immediately makes his way over to one of the roomy leather seats, nearly throwing himself into the back as the seat takes the form of his athletic frame as if to welcome him. No sooner that he is seated, a stewardess approaches over his left shoulder.
Stewardess – Anything I can get you before we take off sir? Water, tea, coffee, hard beverage?
A dirty gin martini would be wonderful. Thank you very much Stacey, you are the absolute best.
Stacey disappears once again into a small room in the back of the aircraft before emerging just a few moments later with a cocktail glass in tow, the clear liquid disturbed only by the olive at the end of the swizzle stick.
One more thing before you get relaxed. Is Hank here yet? I told him what time we would be leaving and that he was cordially invited to come along, just wondering if he made it or not. Now would be the perfect time for any questions he may have, as I don’t plan on leaving this seat until I see LAX.
Stacey – He is in the lavatory sir. Should be out anytime.
The petite leggy blonde flashes a warm smile, her lips perfectly shaped with ruby red lipstick as she once again disappears behind a white curtain. Guiliano can’t help but catch a glimpse of her derriere before she slips behind the shade and a smirk, followed by a chuckle escapes him. After a few more moments, a relaxed looking Hank Brown emerges from the small white door just a few feet away from the resting Guiliano and takes a seat next to him by the oval window of the plane.
Hank – Well Allen, thanks for the invitation. It will be pleasant to have a few more days out in California than I expected. The WCF was going to send me out on Friday evening, but Wednesday is just fine for me. There anything that you don’t want me ask about to get started. I know this is a big moment for you and I don’t want to fluster you or feel like I have thrown you off your game before the match even starts.
Feel free to ask whatever you want Hank. The flight from Vegas to LA isn’t all that lengthy so I’m not sure how much time I will have for questions. However, at this point, I am willing to answer whatever you are willing to ask. It feels good to finally have everything taken care of except for what matters most…my match at One.
Hank – Alright, first question…What does it feel like to know that you will be headlining One in your first ever match at the WCF’s premiere event? I know that is probably a hard question to answer and obviously you are excited, but try to explain it for me and for the fans who don’t have the opportunity to step into a World Championship Federation ring week in and week out, not to mention for the World Title.
I am absolutely ecstatic to have the opportunity to compete for the most prestigious prize in the WCF, but I also feel that I have done what I need to do each and every week to not just get a title shot, but I feel liked I have EARNED the title shot. For someone who isn’t a sports entertainer, it is nearly impossible to describe the feeling of hearing the voices and feeling the vibe of nearly 80,000 screaming fans, knowing that most of them are pulling for you to come out on top.
The match that Torture and I will have at one will be the center of the sports universe for one night and one night only and we will not disappoint. If I had to try and compare it to the everyday WCF fan, I suppose I would say it is like earning a promotion at your job and after you come out of your office, seeing the entire staff of people applauding your efforts and chanting your name, completely supporting your success. However, you would be working with 79,999 other people and there would be one person who would step in front of your path and try to keep you from earning what is rightfully yours on a weekly basis. To tell you the truth, just walking down the ramp and looking out over the crowd is a blessing, but to have your hand raised and experience victory is indescribable, especially in a match for a championship belt.
Hank – Allen, this isn’t your first title match here in the WCF and it is certainly not the first time you have had your name at the top of the card for a pay per view, but how is preparations for One different than say, the War match, or your match for the United States Championship at Blast?
Well, I think some of the differences are quite obvious. At the War match I knew that I would be the last one to enter the ring and I had a pretty good idea of who I would have to eliminate in order to win that event, but it wasn’t for any tangible prize, it just allowed me to have the opportunity to have my name booked in this match with Torture for the World Championship. As for my U.S. Title match, I feel about the same way this time as I did back in June, only I have many more matches under my belt and I am quite familiar with my opponent. Mikami is a great competitor in his own right and we had quite the battles for the United States Title, but this time around I am facing perhaps the greatest wrestler in the history of the World Championship Federation and he simply doesn’t lose wrestling matches. Both his record and mine in one on one matches is stellar and one of us will have to suffer another tally in the loss column, but I assure you that the one that will be adding a notch in the loss category will also be subtracting some gold from around his waist.
Hank – You have also had quite the reputation for being a very confident wrestling, but it seems this feud with Torture has turned you almost arrogant in some people’s eyes. Is this a sign of what we can expect from Slickie T in the future or just a mental tactic that you have employed for this match with the current World Champion?
I don’t consider myself to be arrogant at all. I have said many times that I know what I am up against and I respect my opponent inside the ring, but I am also very confident that I will be the next World Champion in the WCF. It is time for a changing of the guard in the World Championship Federation and I think I am the man to lead it. We have seen a plethora of new names and faces enter the ranks of the federation and I simply want to be the figure head of the new era. Torture will be known as the dominant figure of the WCF with names like Logan, Jack of Blades, Dake Ken, Creeping Death, Corey Black, Steve Carr, Johnny Reb, and Gravedigger being mentioned with his and I see now reason why Slickie T can’t lead the WCF into a new decade along with the superstars of today such as Jay Price, Greenfever, Kevin Hardaway, Ace Slaughter, Hector Rodriguez, and Jack Cash.
Like I said before Hank, this match is more than just about winning the World Championship; it is about regaining the respect of my peers and showing them that I am just as determined today as I was on May 31st when I made my debut at Aftermath. After all, if I am not confident in my own abilities to win on Sunday night, then why should anyone else be? This isn’t a sign of the things to come, this is what is here right now.
Hank – It seems that you have pulled out every trick in the book to try and get into the head of Torture before your showdown on Sunday. Do things like you acquiring CoolWear Inc. and your mission to seemingly break down the walls of the Team of Torture continue even if you do emerge victorious in Los Angeles?
Absolutely. First and foremost, I am a businessman and I will develop CoolWear Inc. so that it is the best clothing line that the world has to offer. I have connections in all walks of the business world and I will use them as I see fit to put out the best possible product. Sure, Torture thinks that I am turning it into a joke and not handling it properly, but the fact is, it’s MY company now and he is just going to have to go along for the ride.
As for the Team of Torture, I think it is obvious what is going to happen to them in the future. They are simply not stable enough, no pun intended, to continue to operate under the rule of Torture and Seth Lerch. The entire reason for putting this collection of individuals together was to win the War match and assure that Torture would not have to defend his title at One, but I was the wrench in his cog that ruined his grand scheme. Now he will have to face the consequences of his actions as I have created even more turmoil in his illusion of a mind and I think it is quite obvious, regardless of the fact if Torture does manage to retain his title, that the Team of Torture will be no more and one man, Allen Guiliano, will have successfully brought it not only do its knees, but made it extinct.
Hank – Indeed you have been the single man that has been able to infiltrate Torture’s stronghold and cause it to dissolve from the inside out. One final question from me as it seems like we are starting to descend. I know that there are several factors that will arise both before and after your match, but if you do become the next World Champion, who do you see as the next big threat to claim the World Title here in the WCF?
Right now, I am simply focused on the one man that can accurately claim to be the best wrestler in the WCF and can back it up with the World Championship belt that is in his possession. As far as the rest of the roster is concerned, I suppose I will have to concentrate on them and deal with them when they threaten the prize that I will stake my claim to on Sunday night. I think it is very fitting that Torture and I will meet in a coliseum as I am very familiar with the original structure that still stands today in my home country of Italy.
Many times before, when I would have the pleasure of making it to Rome, I would visit the structure and simply stand in the center and wonder what it was like to compete in front of the masses and have your fate decided by the cheers or jeers of the Roman people. To have mere strangers decide if you lived or died, if you were allowed to fight on another day, and if you were to be granted your freedom. I know that the stakes are quite as high on Sunday as they were back in the days of Caesar, but one thing is for certain, there will be two warriors enter the ring on December 20th and they will all but fight to the death to simple hear the masses chant their name and rise to their feet at the end of the battle. I guarantee you this Hank, just like in the days of old, the best man will win, and the best man will have the heart of an Italian. Torture’s reign as ruler of the WCF will come to an end and a new era will begin with a new decade as there will be a new leader to lead the World Championship Federation to future glory.
Hank Brown sits speechless as the now staring eyes of Allen Guiliano cut through him like a hot knife through butter and the expression on Guiliano’s face is one of pure focus and adrenaline. The calm and relaxed man that was once present has been replaced by the warrior inside and the plane continues its decent as the Sicilian rises from his seat and makes it way toward the front of the plane, disappearing into the cockpit to not only see how much longer the flight will last, but also to avoid the currently stunned Brown.
An outside camera placed on the runway at LAX catches the aircraft as it descends through the soft white clouds and the landing gear lowers as puffs of smoke spit from the rubber tires as they meet the pavement below. The jet begins to taxi and slips into an awaiting hanger as the scene fades to black and ghosted faces of Slickie T and Torture come into view, the World Championship belt separating their caricatures as the WCF logo appears.
