Threads Part II
Despicable Me The words Sandy Lawson left me with the other day were very poignant. I have been thinking for almost a year now if what I do is worth it. The whole concept of forgiving someone is twisted. Those who do bad things never admit they are wrong until they are caught. I don’t forgive. I have been wronged many times in my life and it took almost dying to realize that the only important person is me. I will not blindly act for others because the act of being selfless will leave you penniless and shunned. Everything I do is to make sure I never have to rely on someone else and I will never forgive and I most surely will never forget. I have been called paranoid. You can check that off your ‘Steve Harrison is,’ list. I call it being a realist. I protect myself and in this world being paranoid is a knee jerk reaction to knowing the world. It is ugly. Therefore I act accordingly in keeping my slice of the world clean and classy. I will shoot a kneecap to get too my goals. I will ugly up any establishment I am not connected with because in this world the strong don’t only survive they make sure their enemies become powerless. I laugh. Is it all worth it? I don’t know yet because I have not completed my masterpiece. Do I regret things I have done? Even if I did, I would never openly admit it because that shows weakness to your enemies. I do what I have to and in the end I will have to live with what I have done. Heh. I live by the same standards when I wrestle. These people are not my friends. They do not care if I win or if my paycheck is small. This is a job that mirrors real life and in this job people with false bravado like VIP will be swept away by the sheer desire someone like me has. I am not going to respect this guy. I proved two weeks ago that I am more then just talk when I…surprise…beat him by…OMG…using my brain. I know everyone must have been surprised that VIP was outsmarted. This man was such a patriarch of creativity and brilliance and me a mere mortal in his realm of Soulja Boy dances and 40Oz drinking came out the victor. GASP! Unfortunately the old guard of AWC or what they refer to as The Club…more on that in a minute…have decided to deny me a much deserved title shot at TA Giles. Darcy Markson would not know entertainment if it came up to him and put its ball sac on his face. This moron has done nothing but attempt to hold me down. He dares to question my victory over VIP and then announces I have to face that stereotype again? Absurd… …Outlandish… …Criminally Insane… …I say. This is why AWC is considered a Club, people. This is a place where people try to relive their old moments and by doing so attempt to hold back the new generation. I have more going for myself then these washed up tree huggers, but here I am forced to beat VIP again instead of getting a much deserved title shot. I call shenanigans on these nepotistic Neanderthals. Fuck out of my way you push blockers. You have forced my hand, Darcy. So, at All Summer Long I will leave VIP without the use of his legs and that will be on you. I will never regret my actions inside the ring. None of you will ever understand who I am if you don’t understand that. My reign of terror against the spoiled and rotten peasants in AWC is about to kick into high gear. Where will you be when Steve Harrison cripples your Heh. =+=+= Pulling Yarn Sandy Lawson deals with a lot of shady characters. She believes most of them are in the past now since they all came into her life because of the man she married. It was not a surprise to Steve Harrison that the number he received from her was of a man with known mob ties and whose profession of choice is loan sharking. The man’s name was Vincenzo. He had a reputation of taking big risks with his loans. He had loaned out to the Russians, the Serbians, and even some Saudi Arabians. It was all about business to him and even if he some times worked with other threatening entities he was never fearful. His reputation as a businessman was nonexistent. What he did was loan people money and if they did not pay he would break legs as the old Mafia cliché goes. Breaking legs to Vincenzo was a job he gave to his cousins who were not very bright but extremely large. It was not original by any means but through cruelty and the utter lack of respect for humanity Vincenzo thrived at his craft. He came off as a friendly man, always smiling and smoking on a cigar but it was all a façade. He would do what needed to be done to get his loans out and being friendly was the easiest way but in the end everyone who forgot to pay realized that smile hid something dangerous behind it. “Do you understand what I do?” I always loved the threatening tone when someone attempts to speak their profession to godlike status. I nodded to the man slowly as I leaned back in his chair. He sat looking large as he smoked away on a cigar the smoke began to fill his study. I looked around and saw his books decaying from the constant smoking in the room and just laughed inside my head. I was beyond caring about someone else’s supposed status in the world. My confidence in a matter of wits was something I could not keep locked away but neither did I want to. This was my time to sew and form an extravagant future. “I am assuming you lend money to people in need?” I responded sarcastically. He scoffed at me, noticing the sarcasm right away. “I see people like you all the time?” I smiled, “do you also dead people?” He laughed, “I see them right before they die.” “Oh?” He nodded self assured with his cigar hanging from his mouth. He took it out and stared at me his smile fading. “No, I see people that are arrogant and believe that nothing can touch them. Then the day comes when they miss a payment and I come knocking on their doors with a few friends of mine and well I think I am making myself clear…right?” My smile faded and I nodded, the way he went so cold so fast made my hands shake. I thought it was fear but in the back of my mind I knew it was respect. “I understand.” “And you still want to talk numbers?” “Of course.” He ashed his cigar and smiled again, “you are either insane or know you will make money, because the interest rates on this loan…” “I know what I am getting into.” “I don’t think you do but, I don’t care either.” “I have plans, Vinny.” He laughed, “Plans?” “I didn’t know this was a job interview,” I responded beginning to get more and more annoyed by his seemingly stalling tactics. “Right, right, sorry…so how much do you need?” John Harrison owned 55% of all companies making him the majority owner and CEO. Years ago it was 100% owned by the family but his failings had led him to slowly begin selling percentages to outsiders. Our father was an untrusting man and one I despise to this day but he was a great businessman. My brother was nothing but an idiot and it was my job to gain influence and power by getting rid of him. These are all threads to my ultimate goal that being discovering where my supposed dead dad is hiding. I have heard a lot about him, so to muster up what I need to take everyone down I have become a ruthless man. I will not change, my decision has been made and I will live with any consequences that may follow. Everything clouded my mind as I stared at the smoke stained smile of Vincenzo. This was a stepping stone and before long I will attain my sweater. “How much can you spare?” “I like that answer but I don’t blindly hand over money.” I shook my head, “I thought this was a ‘don’t ask don’t tell’ enterprise?” “I need to know if my investment will actually bring me a profit. Depending on how much you need I may be wary of giving it a blind eye.” “I don’t want any partners---if that is what you are getting at.” “Haha, your confidence better be warranted young man. How about we do this again, how much do you need?” At this point I needed a number because I knew he would not hesitate to sick his goons on me. It was a difficult number to come up with because it is a private enterprise I was attempting to overthrow. He had sold parts off but there was not a price I could find off the stock exchange. This would take more planning then first expected but at least I understood that before the battle for control began. “I believe we may need to do this in steps,” I finally responded my mind thinking about all the scenarios. “Really?” “I believe that a first installment of five hundred G’s will suffice.” He leaned back in his chair and put his cigar in an ashtray. He tapped his middle and index finger against his cheek like a tooth was bothering him. He leaned back and stared at me, “that is a lot of money.” “It will take time to become the sole owner, Vinny. It will take money and time…not to mention patience.” He nodded slowly never taking his eyes off me as if he was a lie detector trying to test my honesty. “Asking for patience does not make me feel respected.” “Um…” He laughed, “You have balls, son I will give you that. I will give you this first installment but it will take a lot of favors so if you fail to begin your payments back to me on time with the needed interest on them I will be forced to turn this new friendship into an unpleasant one.” I gulped and wiped sweat from my forehead. I was happy to get the money but at the same time I was about to get involved with someone who would not hesitate to shoot my knee cap. I finally nodded slowly back to Vincenzo as I tapped on the pack of Camel Lights in my pocket. My desire to smoke was overwhelming me, I needed anything at this point to ease my nerves. “I understand,”I finally responded. He stood up and shook my hand, “we will be in touch.” With that I made a deal with the devil. I left the meeting and hastily began chain smoking as I walked down the street, my head down, and thoughts swirling in my head. It was not a comfortable situation but, I put myself here because of my own desires and I will achieve my win no matter what the cost. This man went on to shoot the lawyer and steal the book from Steve, leaving Steve dumbfounded on what had transpired. From there he had spied and tried to find the book but in the end his first mission was a failure. The book was locked in a bank vault and then disappeared soon after leaving Steve with no cues or hints for finding his father. The book traveled… …Back to its original owner. A wrinkled hand grasped a leather bound book. His hand began to go pale as his hand held it tighter and tighter. He smiled, fire from the fireplace glaring off his teeth which were tinted from old age and coffee. He put the leather bound book down on an Oak Table that was next to him. He sat like he were a King, nothing was in the room but portraits of himself and war. A bottle of wine was on the table with a half drunken glass next to it. “Fin-a-lly,” he said slowly his voice sounding triumphant. His hand shook as he went to grab his glass of wine. He flicked his wrist attempting to melt the nerves that had hit him. His face changing in surprise, this man was not use to being nervous, this man could not tell you the last time he had ever used the word. This man calmed quickly and put the glass to his lips, a few drops fell to the ground, the rest refreshed his thirst as he swallowed aggressively. He placed the glass back on the table and picked the book back up. It was Hamlet but the title did not last long as he ripped the cover off and threw it into the fire, it went up like a dead leaf and disappeared, forever. “Ha-ha-ha.” The laughter brought about a knock to his sanctuary. His head moved like a swivel towards the door, his smile faded to a frown and before he could say anything the door opened up. In entered a woman dressed in a pink night gown and a worried frown on her aged face. She shook her head at the man, “what are you laughing about?” He sighed, the wrinkles in his face now frowning as well, “it is a brand new day but you still insist on ruining it.” She looked at the book he held like the book were a newborn child, “so you got what you want, what does that mean for us?” “Us?” he scoffed at her. “The family!” she responded angrily, her nostrils flaring up like a dragon about to pounce. The man laughed, “this allows me to return from the dead, woman. Steve and John are nothing but failed creations. You can continue in your profession as my wife but please do not try to guilt me into caring about those two idiots.” The woman grabbed the book from his hand and attempted to run towards the fire but she suddenly fell the book falling from her hand and landing just feet away from the fireplace. She looked up a surprised look on her face as blood dripped down from her lips. “You…you…you are insane.” He laughed at her as he walked over slowly and picked the book back up. “No longer will I hide, woman and I will not let you turn on me.” “Wha...” He turned his back and put his hand up as he interrupted her, “I do not want to hear it. I am ready to return to the living.”
A prime example is BP. They had been working for years with the same safety plan. This safety plan for spills was never thought nor did they even care. It is only when they help murder an Eco-system do they admit their mistakes.
favorite wrestler?
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The Silk Worm
Months ago Steve Harrison followed the advice he received in a ‘come’ and went to search for a book that carried with it his family’s secrets. This is what he was told at least and this is also around the time that Steve snapped and began down a path with no end in sight. He had the book in his hand after a run in with the former family lawyer but before he could leave a man showed up.
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