Welcome to Mount Olympus

Continued From: https://unitedfrontwrestling.forumotion.com/ufw-locker-room-f3/raul-reviews-the-video-t2350.htm

The cameramen follow Jamal and Raul warily across the street. They know how many camera's have been smashed trying to get a look inside the abandoned warehouse just across the street from the UFW locker rooms. Surprisingly, there seems to be no resistance this time. The two thugs accompanying Jamal have continued forward into the warehouse, leaving the two wrestlers alone to discuss "business". Emboldened by this, the cameramen slowly inch forward so their microphones can catch the conversation of the two wrestlers.

Fatz: . . . and of course, if yo' don' like what yo' see, well then you jus' head on yo' way. Ain' no one gunna stop yo'. Like I said, dis is jus' a simple biz'ness propozishun 'tween two friends. I invited yo' here because I like you, and I like yo' style, I like what yo' bring to da table. You turnin' me down ain't gunna change none of dat.

The conversation is lost once again when the cameramen back off after Jamal glances over his shoulder at them. Raul also realizes they are being followed, but Jamal surprises everyone yet again when smiles and motions the cameramen to follow.

The growing prossession follows Jamal and Raul right up to the doors of the warehouse. A knock is given, and the doors swing wide. Inside it appears that the warehouse is up and operational again. No thugs are in sight, instead workers are everywhere, loading and unloading supplies. No one has much time to look around as Jamal motions everyone inside, he quickly walks through the warehouse, his cane tapping a rhythm on the hard floor. Jamal approaches a small man wearing glasses, his face buried in a clipboard, and taps him on the shoulder with his cane. The man looks up and adjusts his glasses.

Man in Glasses: Ah, Mr. Fatz, I have been expecting you. I have your delivery, if you'll please follow me . . .

The procession follows Jamal and the man in glasses through the mass of workers, machinery, boxes and crates towards the back of the warehouse and into an open freight elevator. Jamal gives the man in glasses a quick nod, and the elevator is shut and begins its slow descent.

There's a loud thud, and the whole elevator shudders as it reaches the basement level of the warehouse. Jamal gives tap on the door with his cane, and the freight elevators opens to bright lights. Greeting them in the open doorway is Supreme Knight and War, they step aside and reveal a sight not one of them expected to see.

Everyone's eyes adjust quickly, and soon gasps and whistles echo through the procession. Before them is a sight to behold. Spreading out in front of them is a huge casino. But what a Casino! Its like stepping right into Hellenistic Greece! Pillars, Columns, and fountains cover the floors. Murals cover the walls, and brilliant crystal chandeliers hang down from the ceiling. Jamal raises his arm, snaps his fingers, and from no where come servers dressed in white tunics bearing bottles and glasses of champagne. Jamal snatches a glass, raises it in the air, and gestures towards the procession.

Fatz: My friends . . . Welcome to Mount Olympus

Raul looks around wide-eyed. His midwestern upbringing, high school and college wrestling endeavors, and middle class family raising has not prepared him in the least for this kind of opulence. Ever since he could afford it, he'd been wearing the best suits and driving the best cars he could afford, but he had never imagined seeing such lavish decor.

Still in a state of shock, he waves off the waiter standing in front of him offering a glass of champagne. He looks at Jamal, who is sipping from his champagne, and then looks back at the absolutely perfect casino surrounding him.

Internally, he tries to figure out what this incredible establishment had to do with Buford's injuries and the destruction of the Traineing Sinter. Suddenly, the pieces fall into play.

Raul's eyes flash with fury, and he lunges at Jamal, only to be restrained by Supreme Knight and War. Raul shouts:

Raul: You thug! You beat up Buford to get rid of any potential competition.

Raul tries to shake off the two men restraining him, but fails. He finally gains control of himself as Jamal silently studies him. After he's regained control, Supreme Knight and War let him go. Raul tugs his sleeves back in place, pulls down his suit coat, and straightens his tie. He takes two quick steps to close the distance between himself and Jamal Fatz, looks up into the intimidating man's eyes, and says:

Raul: What kind of proposition do you have for me that can make up for what you did to Buford?

The air is thick with tension as the two wrestlers stare at each other. The casino has gone completely silent, someone in the procession clears their throat. For the first time ever, Raul realizes what position he's in. Surrounded by Fatz, Supreme Knight, and War, who are obviously business partners.

As he glances around he notices many figures standing in the shadows. They look like Jamal's thugs, but they're dressed in the ancient uniform of the Greek Hoplite, plumed helms, bronze breastplate & shields, red cape, complete with short swords at their hip. No doubt those swords aren't the only weapons they carry though . . .

Raul glances back at Jamal, who simply raises his hand and the "hoplites" retreat back into the shadows. Jamal then looks back at Raul and motions him over to a nearby table. Not knowing what else to do, Raul joins him.

Fatz: Look Dawg, like I said befo', I didn' mean fo' Buford to get hurt, I didn' mean fo' his bar to get destroyed . . . again. But yo' right 'bout one thing, I wuz trying to get rid of "potential competishun." My thugs were there to offer a biz'ness propozishun, plain and simple. I offered to buy out Bufords Bar & Traineing Sinter, an' also offered him a job here as a bar tender.

Raul stares back, with skepticism written all over his face.

Fatz: Dawg, I'm askin' yo' to trust me. I think of yo' as a friend. I don' want no mo' vio'lence, yo' the first person dat pop'd into my head. I need someone who can work through problems wit'out resorting to violence, someone to be da face of dis casino. I'm offering you a position as a full partner of Mount Olympus.

Raul continues to stare at Jamal, waiting for the punchline. Just looking around, he knows what kind of offer Jamal is making him. He knows that the potential for success is huge - and can't imagine why Jamal would want to cut him in on the deal.

He looks around, and once again realizes that he's at a distinct disadvantage. Surrounded by Supreme Knight, War, and the "thuglites", as Raul started thinking about him, he knows that an outright refusal could start a battle that would end with him sharing the same room Buford previously occupied. Raul also realizes as he looks around that he's not altogether sure he wants to turn down the proposal Fatz is making. The opportunity to be involved in something of this magnitude is an opportunity he may never have again.

As he looks back toward Fatz, he notices a bit of a smirk on his face - as if Jamal knew what he was thinking.

That's an incredible offer, I'm having trouble believing it. I need to know a few things before I consider it further.

First, I need to know that Buford's being taken care of. I need to know that his medical care will be taken care of, and that he will be compensated for his bar - not what you think it's worth - but for fair market value plus 5 years of potential income.

Second, I can't get involved in anything that would compromise me legally. I need to know that any functions I have will be completely above-board. This casino is remarkably hidden - why?

Third, full partner in what, exactly? What are we looking at offering. Obviously, this is a casino - but what other business ventures does Mount Olympus participate in - and what is my buy in?

Jamal's smirk slowly changes to an ear to ear smile as Raul makes his counter offer. He raises his arm and snaps his fingers. From out of the procession comes the man in glasses.

Fatz: I knew I'd chosen da right man fo' da job. Yo' attenshun to detail is jus' wat dis biz'ness venture needs. Jamal motions towards the approaching man in glasses. This is Tommaso Giuliano, my secretary an' legal council, my right hand man if yo' will.

Jamal turns and addresses the man in glasses.

Fatz: Yo' were right 'bout his questions Tom, looks like I los' da bet. Did yo' bring all da nec'ssary documentashun?

Tom: I did indeed Mr. Fatz.

Jamal turns back to Raul with Tom waiting patiently on one side of the table.

Fatz: Tom here gots all da info'mashun yo' need. He can tell yo' all da details of wat is being done fo' Buford an' his bar. I assure yo', he is being well taken care of. If yo' feel there are any changes needed, Tom can take care of them immediately.

Raul, I needs a face fo' dis company. Someone people can trus', someone dat can bring in some real biz'ness fo' us. Yo' would be da host of Mount Olympus, head of Marketing and Promoshun. Don' worry, Tom will make sho' ever'thing is good an' legal. But we can 'scuss more of dat later.

I invite yo' to 'scuss things wit' Tom, either here or at a place of yo' choosing, then take a few days to think it over. This is after all a big decishun fo' yo'. I'll be in touch in a few days to get yo' decishun. Now if yo'll 'scuse me, I have some las' minute details to take care of.

And with that said, Jamal stands and leaves the table heading deeper into the casino, surrounded by staff.

Raul watches Jamal leave, and turns his attention toward Tom.

Raul: Mr. Giuliano, can I look at the paperwork?

Raul and Tom spend several hours poring over documents, with Raul asking questions and Tom quickly and incredibly competently coming up with answers. As Raul gets a better handle on what the business entails, he becomes more and more overwhelmed with the offer.

Finally, he pushes himself back from the table and stretches.

Raul: Tom, just one last question - and then I'll need a few days to consider the offer. Everything looks legit, the place is beautiful, you're an incredibly intelligent book keeper and business manager. Mr. Fatz has changed his image. You tell me - why am I necessary in this venture at all? What do I really bring to the table that Mr. Fatz couldn't find elsewhere?

Tom takes his glasses off, breathes on the lenses, and cleans them with a cloth. Then he carefully places them back on his head, balancing on his nose. He begins cleaning up all the paperwork, shuffling different stacks into files as he answers.

Tom: I'm afraid you were actually my decision sir. I was most impressed with how you handled yourself during the Riot vs UFW war. You didn't play sides, you showed a lot of potential in your negotiating, even though you eventually failed. And I am one who appreciates potential. But the one thing that really pushed me over the edge was actually quite simple . . . you're not a thug.

Tom straightens up and rises from his chair, he places all the paperwork gently under his left arm, and extends his right hand towards Raul.

Tom: Mr. Stevens, its been a pleasure. I hope we can work together in the future.

Raul shakes Tom's hand and stands up from the table.

Raul: You have both given me a lot to think about. I'll be in touch.

Raul turns to leave, and a few thugs/step out of the shadows to escort him back to the elevator. As he gets to the elevator, he turns back and looks over the incredible layout. The elevator operator pushes the up button, and the doors close, and the freight elevator begins its rise to the warehouse level again.

As soon as Raul steps out, he reaches into his pocket and removes his cellphone from his pocket, dials a number, and holds the phone to his ear. It rings a few times, and then Raul says.

Raul: It's me. I need you to do some checking up on a business for me. Look at it carefully. I need to know everything you can find out about its owner, its structure, and where the cash to build it is coming from. Don't overlook a thing..... Yeah, the works... Business name: Mount Olympus. Owners name? Jamal Fatz. Yeah - I want everything you've got.

Raul walks out of the building, and heads across the parking lot toward the arena.

Raul punches some numbers into his phone, and somewhere in the basement of the warehouse, inside a well secured room, a phone rings.

Jamal Fatz picks it up. He doesn't need to ask who it is, only one person has the number.

As soon as the phone stops ringing, Raul knows Jamal is on the other end.

Hey. I'm in. Call a staff meeting and let's start making money. I've got some ideas, and we need everyone together.