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| Project Initialized | Started by: RonMexico on Nov 10, '07 02:58 |
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The warmth of the banquet hall is a sharp contradiction to the chilled night air that plays as a firm reminder that the desert, in fact, can get quite cold when the sun goes down. The formality of the hall seems out of place amidst the bright lights and cheap theatrics of the strip. The crowd shifts in every direction as they greet each other. You catch a few familiar faces as you make your way to your seat. Once everyone is seated, RonMexico stands and approaches the podium. He reaches into his coat, pulls out several folded papers and lays them in front of himself. He clears his throat and takes a sip of water, then begins to speak. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! He clears his throat once more. Excuse me. I'd, um... I'd like to start with an old saying, if I may. "Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll be among used syringes and strippers." Let that sink in for a moment. A longer moment than that. He looks toward the table of honor, then to the crowd. Esteemed colleagues, friends, guests, JohnnyAxe -- welcome. Please, please... no need to stand. Though, pretending like you were going to would have been nice. You're all forgiven. First off, I'd like to thank each and every one of you for being here tonight. I'd like to thank Scandia, Three, and Cthulhu (gesundheit), for this great opportunity. Also, a very special thanks from the bottom of my heart (among other things) goes to Ollie -- I can call him that. We're best buds. NO ONE ELSE CALL HIM THAT. He was the one to recognize the diamond in the rough, and he chipped it right onto the green. I'd also like to thank Ms. Swanson, my fourth grade English teacher, for introducing me to metaphors. He pauses to take a drink of water. Las Vegas, Nevada. Sounds nice, doesn't it? I get choked up just thinking of all the astounding history in this town. I mean, there was probably a train... cacti, I think, were invented here... um... a bank... And I can't believe how very lucky I am to be adding to the rich tales of this fine city. Sure, it may be a dank, tranny infested hell hole full of winos, at the moment, but with a little determination, and hard work, and spirit, and ingenuity... together we can transform this city into a shiny, booming, tranny infested metropolis full of winos. And all it takes is this... He taps his chest. Heart. And probably a shitload of other stuff, too. Let's not kid ourselves. A large blue flag unfurls behind him. In one corner is a white star, surrounded by sagebrush twigs. RonMexico points to the flag. There -- that was supposed to drop down five minutes ago, but regardless -- do you know what that is? I sure as hell didn't. Apparently, that's the state flag of Nevada. I shit you not. That's what they told me, and it says "Nevada" right there under the star. Look at it. There isn't a roulette wheel or a fake breast anywhere on the thing. Now, you can go home and forget about this plain and vastly inefficient flag, but I have to live with it. It's mine. It stands for everything I believe in. Stars, plants, the color blue, and now, the state of Nevada. He pauses for the huge swell of applause. Then, reasonably certain that it isn't going to happen, he continues. Now, what can I give to the nation as a whole? Good question. I'm glad I asked. Well, if you like variety, you're in luck. Just look at all the different words I've used in my speech here, tonight. And that's just off the top of my head. The sense of wonderment you're feeling is natural. The keen among you may have noted my, shall we say, progressive attitude toward business. If you're worried about what this may mean on a large scale, I say don't worry. There, that was easy. Things will be different, no doubt, but just remember this week's RonMexicology lesson -- blind faith (next week: deaf understanding). He pauses, feigning contemplation. Without further ado, I'd like to formally announce the initialization of The Iguana Project. That's the name that will transform Las Vegas. Well, the name won't do shit. The people behind it will. Hopefully, next time you're around this way, you'll see big things. And if you can avert your gaze from those big things for long enough, you just might see us -- working. Or, y'know, walking our dogs. We're human. First order of business is to seek out these train tracks I've heard so much about. Once that's out of the way, I'll designate one side as he "wrong side". The Iguana Projects, if you will. Then, I'll construct my headquarters atop a hill, overlooking this neighborhood. This way, the people I just plunged into poverty will have something to look up to. Something to strive for. I figure once a year or so, I'll switch it up and let the other side be the wrong side for a while. Let them get their strive on as well. By my calculation, with all this striving, and adjusting for inflation -- Las Vegas should be the most prosperous city in the world by the early to mid 50s. Just you watch. He flashes the "V for Victory" sign. Thank you, thank you all. |
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| Mortals can only strive to be as smooth as you, Mr. Mexico. | |
| Reply by: HuggyBear at Nov 10, '07 03:03 | |
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She sits back in her seat and pants... Something about blue backgrounds and tumbleweed-looking plants brings back hot memories... Fanning herself with a napkin she collects herself and then approaches RonMexico with the question she'd been meaning to ask him since she first saw him walk into her late night 100% nude hot wings cafe. Mr. Mexico, is there a Mrs. Mexico? I hope so, because I don't want the drama of marriage, but I'd love to be your Lady Tijuana... if the position's available. |
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| Reply by: LittleEvey at Nov 10, '07 09:21 | |
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| Only this man, this person, this whatever he chooses to call himself every given day could have made this speech. So, Ron - what can I say to come even close to your eloquence? SO I won't attempt it. Just congratulations and when you look at yourself in that bold suit, remember the man with the tortured memories and voice of his father driving him who my ancestor met in the streets one day. And lay that man finally sweetly to rest. Congratulations my friend. | |
| Reply by: Elena-DeLuca at Nov 10, '07 15:42 | |
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Applauding very loudly, I mouth *CONGRATS* when you look my way. Well Done.... |
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| Reply by: bite_me at Nov 10, '07 18:25 | |
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Congratulations. Ron Mexico Must Die! I wish you a long and prosperous life! |
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| Reply by: -TONY_MONTANA- at Nov 10, '07 18:31 | |
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Now that's a fucking speech! Well done, RonMexico. I'll look forward to hearing your use of metaphors across our streets for a long while, I hope. Congrats and best of luck. |
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| Reply by: VonGaunt at Nov 10, '07 18:34 | |
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To answer your question, Evey -- A missus? Well... Not quite, I'm afraid. Say, is it only my imagination, or do the ladies in your family have a certain affinity for men with big, long, hot... plots of land in the Nevada desert? And TONY -- I'm not a robot. My head will not explode. But a noble effort, nonetheless. |
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| Reply by: RonMexico at Nov 10, '07 19:29 | |
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| Ron, its not so much an affinity for the men of Las Vegas... its the feeling I get from sand being places where sand should not be... | |
| Reply by: LittleEvey at Nov 10, '07 19:45 | |
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Ah yes. I, too, used to enjoy eating sand. But take it from me, that's no way to live. Sure, it may make you happy now, but you won't feel good about it in the morning. And it takes DAYS to stop the bleeding. Get help, dear. I'm rooting for you. |
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| Reply by: RonMexico at Nov 10, '07 19:57 | |
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There is this street psychiatrist I'm seeing. Perhaps that'll work. But its hard to overcome that delightfully grainy feeling in your mouth. Walks off, crushed. |
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| Reply by: LittleEvey at Nov 10, '07 20:35 | |
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After taking the necessary time to compose himself (as he was clearly stunned by Mr Mexico's words [for days--sorry]), Johnny finally rises from his chair to congratulate his longtime friend, former secretary, and Las Vegas' new crew leader. He shakes his head back and forth in disbelief It all makes sense now--the phone calls, the bank transactions, the secret meetings, the pantyhose. I've gotta say I'm relieved. He takes a step back to take in the large, blue flag hanging behind the stage. Well, I can't think of a more perfect city for you. Congratulations by the way. I know you'll do well. He considers this for a moment. Or, you know, you'll get yourself killed. Either way, it should be fun. Good luck! Smiling what he hoped was reassuringly, he shakes Ron's hand and heads to the airport to catch his flight back to Chicago. |
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| Reply by: JohnnyAxe at Nov 13, '07 22:39 | |
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| Way to be fashionably late. | |
| Reply by: HuggyBear at Nov 14, '07 05:45 | |
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Seriously, Johnny, you're the eighth or ninth coolest person I know. And I really, truly, sincerely mean that. |
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| Reply by: RonMexico at Nov 14, '07 15:50 | |
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Katie was sitting in the attic of her mother's old house. This is where she kept all of the bloodlines old diaries and it had been a tradition for Katie, every year on Halloween to sit and read them. Today Katie had come across one particular diary that held a newspaper clipping. A man that went by RonMexico had been authed in Las Vegas and he was telling the mob folk of his new crew. Katie almost died laughing after she finished the article, but she also felt strangely fulfilled. The same feeling you get after staring at piece of artwork, she knew that this had been a masterpiece. Katie also felt a yearning pull and she wished she had lived in those times. |
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| Reply by: KatieMurdock at Oct 31, '10 13:32 | |
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