Post by Manos del Muerte on May 8, 2007 2:06:59 GMT -6
“And so that’s pretty much all there was to it. I wrestled like… three matches. Won one, lost two. And I can tell you why I lost the two if you’ve got a few hours. Because honestly, it’s been pissing me off for a good long time. I should’ve never lost. I should’ve been treated like a legend. I’m a god damn legend. I AM LEGEND. But when I got there… ramble ramble ramble…”
[And we have fade up.]
[Hidealgo 19’s a fairly good looking guy. In a pair of brand new blue jeans and a tight black T-shirt with a cross on it, he grins, and it looks like he’s got a hundred teeth or so, and they’re all white.]
The two girls he’s sitting with seem to be impressed.
Hidealgo: This Power On Wrestling thing is going to be much different from Mexico, and I tell you, don’t be surprised if it takes us a little while to find our feet. I don’t think Electric Head would’ve picked this place if it wasn’t jammed full of good wrestlers. Though don’t let them hear I said that. To be an effective bad guy, you have to rub your sneering contempt in your opponents faces at all times. On camera, I hate them.
[One of the two girls kind of giggles, and points over Hidealgo’s shoulder at the camera. He makes eye contact with it.]
Hidealgo: …f**k.
[The two girls laugh.]
[For a bit of description here. These girls, although good looking enough, are both clearly local girls. One’s got blonde hair and a cute face, but her teeth are just a tad crooked. Fix that and she’ll be a high four star, til then, a high three star maybe. The other is kind of pretty, in a nondescript sort of way. Brown hair, well shaped but not overly large rack.]
[But Hidealgo’s the new guy in town, and at this point in time, he can’t afford to be overly fussy about the quality of the tail. Let your reputation grow, and all that good stuff.]
Blonde: So anyway, you were wrestling in Lions Road?
Hidealgo: Don’t remind me.
Blonde: Well, you went there, didn’t you?
Hidealgo: Kind of.
Blonde: What kind of answer is that?
Hidealgo: OK, ok, the reason I went to Lions Road is because my coach said I needed to learn some more different moves to increase my effectiveness in the ring, and he said puroresu was all about lots of fancy moves. Unfortunately, there’s dozens of kinds of puroresu… well, maybe a dozen. Anyway, the kind that Lions Road practices is where your finishing moves get no-sold, but lariats and brainbusters are death. Kinda lameass actually.
Brunette: But you lost matches there, didn’t you?
Hidealgo: I think I went 2-3. I forget. Don’t really care. Anyway, see, I was teaming with the Frozen Waffles with Awesome Sauce.
[The girls both laugh.]
Hidealgo: HEY! Those five were like… the best thing that place had going for them. And I knew Roger Stevens already, so I figured what the hell. It’s just that, I guess, foreign superstars aren’t as interesting as guys who demand stupid match stipulations all the time and then lose their matches and look like tools, not that they didn’t already.
Blonde: Bitter much?
Hidealgo: f**k yeah, wouldn’t you be?
[The three of them are seated at a table in a restaurant. Forgot to mention that. A few plates are pushed down in front of them. One’s covered in some kind of meat. Hidealgo looks at it dubiously.]
Hidealgo: …what the hell is this?
Blonde: Mutton with gravy. If you’re going to spend any time in Kentucky, you’d best learn to like it.
[Hidealgo shrugs.]
Hidealgo: Beats working out or meditating. Or shopping. I wouldn’t mind giving everyone orders, but I’m not allowed to do that or something. Pass the mutton.
[Hidealgo douses the meat liberally in barbecue sauce, and begins shoveling it in by the spoonful.]
*****
[El Gran Bàrbaro gets female attention too. Only instead of with his natural wit and charm, he does it by curling a 120 lb dumbbell.]
[Insert the sounds a bunch of women cheering some guy on makes. Yaaay, whew-whew, all that stuff.]
[Without his mask on, Bàrbaro’s a swarthy guy. A five o’clock shadow, framed by heavy black hair and thick eyebrows that make him look angry even when he’s not – a rare occurrence, actually.]
Girls: …four!
[Bàrbaro grits his teeth as sweat pours down his forehead, his entire mind and body focused on bringing that weight up one more time.]
Girls: …FIVE! YAAAAAY!!!!
[Bàrbaro discards the dumbbell with a clang and swings his arm to loosen it up.]
[Seeing his friend done, Death Adder steps down off a treadmill and walks over. The girls don’t pay him any attention, preferring to run their fingers up and down Bàrbaro’s bicep.]
Adder: Enjoying yourself there?
[One of the girls turns away to look Death Adder up. In good shape but utterly unremarkable, she snorts, and turns away.]
Adder: Bàrbaro.
Bàrbaro: …busy.
[The girls coo and giggle again as Death Adder stalks away in disgust. Picking up a water bottle, he empties it over his head.]
“What’s wrong, son?”
[Death Adder turns.]
Adder: So you finally made it. Good deal.
[Electric Head, the coach and sort of leader of the Manos del Muerte, cracks a smile for a brief second.]
EH: Getting a flight across the border was difficult. Who was it, Mick Cormac, getting our visas tied up…
[By ‘our’, Electric Head means himself, and his neice, the female wrestler known as Luz Rojo… “Red Light”. She’s there too, in a red strappy kind of top, and a pair of black too-short-to-be-called-shorts shorts, her eyes as cold as the dark side of the moon.]
Adder: The bastard.
EH: Forget him. I’ve been dealing with Power On Wrestling management. You’re exclusive to Mid West now.
Adder: Yeah?
EH: Yeah. And that match against Cormac and Zevon? As far as we’re concerned, it never happened. Speak not, think not. Manos Del Muerte’s first major run north of the border begins starting now. And incidentally, Mid West management has a good match lined up for you.
Adder: A good one?
EH: In some ways of looking at it. It’s against George Duke and Flying Diamond Cutter Man.
Adder: Isn’t FDCM the place’s top champion?
EH: Yep.
Adder: …wow.
[He pauses for a minute, thinking.]
Adder: So, this match… is it ‘give the new guys a chance to see what they’re made of’, or ‘make the new guys humble by remind them how steep a climb it is to the top’?
EH: Both, I’d think. Mainly though it’s going to be what you make of it. Where’s Hidealgo?
Adder: Off somewhere, probably making an ass of himself.
*****
Hidealgo: So you wanna see what I learned in Canaduh?
[Outside the diner, Hidealgo’s surrounded by a small crowd of people. One of whom is a very large man, both in general size and girth… in other words, he’s real big n’ fat.]
Hidealgo: This is what they call the Best of Japan.
Blonde from earlier: But why would you be learning about Japan in Canada?
Hidealgo: f**ked if I know. Anyway, check this out. I call it… “The Long Meandering Jaunt Down Pussycat’s Alley.”
Random Guy: Ain’t that the strip club?
Hidealgo: Nah, that’s Pussycat’s Way. This is pro wrestling.
[Hidealgo nods to the big fat guy. The big fat guy nods back.]
Hidealgo: GRAAAAAHH! LA RAZA!!!
[Hidealgo goes into a flailing charge at the big guy and starts karate chopping him on the chest! The big guy just looks at him.]
Hidealgo: LARIOTO!!!
[He swings his arm, hitting the guy with the side of it. The guy wobbles just a little bit.]
Hidealgo: BLARG!
[Jumping up to get his arm over the guy’s head, Hidedalgo sets him up in suplex position, snaps himself backwards – and throws himself to the ground as his grip slips loose.]
[Then he kips up.]
Big Guy: What the hell was that?
Hidealgo: Puroresu!
[Fade.]
[And we have fade up.]
[Hidealgo 19’s a fairly good looking guy. In a pair of brand new blue jeans and a tight black T-shirt with a cross on it, he grins, and it looks like he’s got a hundred teeth or so, and they’re all white.]
The two girls he’s sitting with seem to be impressed.
Hidealgo: This Power On Wrestling thing is going to be much different from Mexico, and I tell you, don’t be surprised if it takes us a little while to find our feet. I don’t think Electric Head would’ve picked this place if it wasn’t jammed full of good wrestlers. Though don’t let them hear I said that. To be an effective bad guy, you have to rub your sneering contempt in your opponents faces at all times. On camera, I hate them.
[One of the two girls kind of giggles, and points over Hidealgo’s shoulder at the camera. He makes eye contact with it.]
Hidealgo: …f**k.
[The two girls laugh.]
[For a bit of description here. These girls, although good looking enough, are both clearly local girls. One’s got blonde hair and a cute face, but her teeth are just a tad crooked. Fix that and she’ll be a high four star, til then, a high three star maybe. The other is kind of pretty, in a nondescript sort of way. Brown hair, well shaped but not overly large rack.]
[But Hidealgo’s the new guy in town, and at this point in time, he can’t afford to be overly fussy about the quality of the tail. Let your reputation grow, and all that good stuff.]
Blonde: So anyway, you were wrestling in Lions Road?
Hidealgo: Don’t remind me.
Blonde: Well, you went there, didn’t you?
Hidealgo: Kind of.
Blonde: What kind of answer is that?
Hidealgo: OK, ok, the reason I went to Lions Road is because my coach said I needed to learn some more different moves to increase my effectiveness in the ring, and he said puroresu was all about lots of fancy moves. Unfortunately, there’s dozens of kinds of puroresu… well, maybe a dozen. Anyway, the kind that Lions Road practices is where your finishing moves get no-sold, but lariats and brainbusters are death. Kinda lameass actually.
Brunette: But you lost matches there, didn’t you?
Hidealgo: I think I went 2-3. I forget. Don’t really care. Anyway, see, I was teaming with the Frozen Waffles with Awesome Sauce.
[The girls both laugh.]
Hidealgo: HEY! Those five were like… the best thing that place had going for them. And I knew Roger Stevens already, so I figured what the hell. It’s just that, I guess, foreign superstars aren’t as interesting as guys who demand stupid match stipulations all the time and then lose their matches and look like tools, not that they didn’t already.
Blonde: Bitter much?
Hidealgo: f**k yeah, wouldn’t you be?
[The three of them are seated at a table in a restaurant. Forgot to mention that. A few plates are pushed down in front of them. One’s covered in some kind of meat. Hidealgo looks at it dubiously.]
Hidealgo: …what the hell is this?
Blonde: Mutton with gravy. If you’re going to spend any time in Kentucky, you’d best learn to like it.
[Hidealgo shrugs.]
Hidealgo: Beats working out or meditating. Or shopping. I wouldn’t mind giving everyone orders, but I’m not allowed to do that or something. Pass the mutton.
[Hidealgo douses the meat liberally in barbecue sauce, and begins shoveling it in by the spoonful.]
*****
[El Gran Bàrbaro gets female attention too. Only instead of with his natural wit and charm, he does it by curling a 120 lb dumbbell.]
[Insert the sounds a bunch of women cheering some guy on makes. Yaaay, whew-whew, all that stuff.]
[Without his mask on, Bàrbaro’s a swarthy guy. A five o’clock shadow, framed by heavy black hair and thick eyebrows that make him look angry even when he’s not – a rare occurrence, actually.]
Girls: …four!
[Bàrbaro grits his teeth as sweat pours down his forehead, his entire mind and body focused on bringing that weight up one more time.]
Girls: …FIVE! YAAAAAY!!!!
[Bàrbaro discards the dumbbell with a clang and swings his arm to loosen it up.]
[Seeing his friend done, Death Adder steps down off a treadmill and walks over. The girls don’t pay him any attention, preferring to run their fingers up and down Bàrbaro’s bicep.]
Adder: Enjoying yourself there?
[One of the girls turns away to look Death Adder up. In good shape but utterly unremarkable, she snorts, and turns away.]
Adder: Bàrbaro.
Bàrbaro: …busy.
[The girls coo and giggle again as Death Adder stalks away in disgust. Picking up a water bottle, he empties it over his head.]
“What’s wrong, son?”
[Death Adder turns.]
Adder: So you finally made it. Good deal.
[Electric Head, the coach and sort of leader of the Manos del Muerte, cracks a smile for a brief second.]
EH: Getting a flight across the border was difficult. Who was it, Mick Cormac, getting our visas tied up…
[By ‘our’, Electric Head means himself, and his neice, the female wrestler known as Luz Rojo… “Red Light”. She’s there too, in a red strappy kind of top, and a pair of black too-short-to-be-called-shorts shorts, her eyes as cold as the dark side of the moon.]
Adder: The bastard.
EH: Forget him. I’ve been dealing with Power On Wrestling management. You’re exclusive to Mid West now.
Adder: Yeah?
EH: Yeah. And that match against Cormac and Zevon? As far as we’re concerned, it never happened. Speak not, think not. Manos Del Muerte’s first major run north of the border begins starting now. And incidentally, Mid West management has a good match lined up for you.
Adder: A good one?
EH: In some ways of looking at it. It’s against George Duke and Flying Diamond Cutter Man.
Adder: Isn’t FDCM the place’s top champion?
EH: Yep.
Adder: …wow.
[He pauses for a minute, thinking.]
Adder: So, this match… is it ‘give the new guys a chance to see what they’re made of’, or ‘make the new guys humble by remind them how steep a climb it is to the top’?
EH: Both, I’d think. Mainly though it’s going to be what you make of it. Where’s Hidealgo?
Adder: Off somewhere, probably making an ass of himself.
*****
Hidealgo: So you wanna see what I learned in Canaduh?
[Outside the diner, Hidealgo’s surrounded by a small crowd of people. One of whom is a very large man, both in general size and girth… in other words, he’s real big n’ fat.]
Hidealgo: This is what they call the Best of Japan.
Blonde from earlier: But why would you be learning about Japan in Canada?
Hidealgo: f**ked if I know. Anyway, check this out. I call it… “The Long Meandering Jaunt Down Pussycat’s Alley.”
Random Guy: Ain’t that the strip club?
Hidealgo: Nah, that’s Pussycat’s Way. This is pro wrestling.
[Hidealgo nods to the big fat guy. The big fat guy nods back.]
Hidealgo: GRAAAAAHH! LA RAZA!!!
[Hidealgo goes into a flailing charge at the big guy and starts karate chopping him on the chest! The big guy just looks at him.]
Hidealgo: LARIOTO!!!
[He swings his arm, hitting the guy with the side of it. The guy wobbles just a little bit.]
Hidealgo: BLARG!
[Jumping up to get his arm over the guy’s head, Hidedalgo sets him up in suplex position, snaps himself backwards – and throws himself to the ground as his grip slips loose.]
[Then he kips up.]
Big Guy: What the hell was that?
Hidealgo: Puroresu!
[Fade.]