G.energating R.everse I.ntellectual M.emories Extended
Summer XXXTreme Aug. 25th, 2019; Sun Princess Cruise Ship

Was it all just a dream?  What part, you ask? All of it, mang.  From that moment I stood up over John Blade-Martinez with the SCU Combat Championship held over my head for the second time in a week’s time.  The crowd is roaring all around me and I am standing there, breathing like I just won the biggest fight of my life. And that’s probably because I did. I fought hard to overcome my foe, and I’m standing in the middle of the ring with a microphone in my hand. "Sueltate y Toma" is blasting over the speakers as I look out across the setting sun reflecting on the ocean.  I think to myself for a second before just can’t help but lose my shit.

Me: Ay mios dios! I can't believe I actually just secured the first championship legacy for Ahuevo in the SCU history books! I wasn't about to be no fluke champion who wins one week and loses the next, so I had to be sure.

Emotions are running extremely high as I take in another deep breath. I look down at John Blade as the medical team comes in the check on him and part of me wants to make sure he’s alright before I continue, but I  step back so that I don’t get in the way.

Me: I did it! As much as I respect Eric Weaver and John Blade, I did it! I really did it! I'm the real SCU Combat Champion. And I couldn't do it without each and every one of you.

Like I said, I’m overcome with emotions, because this mask finally gets the recognition that it has worked so hard for so long to get.  That respect. I reach up and wipe at the eyes of my mask. I let out an exasperated sob again as I stumble around the ring, pointing to all of the fans, and then even down to John Blade.  I feel their energy coursing through my entire body. I try to touch at Blade, but the medical team backs me off. I hold my hands up apologetically as I go to the clear end of the ring and they get John Blade out the ring.

Me: You all cheered me. You love me. You really, really love me! So much so that you vatos was booing John Blade. John Motherfucking Blade? It's unbelievable to me. It just goes to prove to me that I...

I take in a breath and sob as I lean in and pulls my mask part way up. The crowd cheers.

Me: I...

I lift my mask up more until he looks just over to his right and he sees Javier Gonzalez standing there.  Um, me?  But not me.  He looks at me… himself… and he has a microphone in his hand.  He raises up the microphone and looks out to the audience.

Javi:  You come out here and you talk to the fans like you’re they hero?  You nothing but a coward, mang.  You duck challenges, because I sure did call you out a bunch of times.

Me:  What you talking about, vato?  I am you.  I been you all along.

Javi laughs at me.  He stomps around laughing as the fans boo.  He points at me and some of them even join in with the laughing.  Suddenly, the Combat Championship belt sitting on my shoulder just ain’t enough to get me through this moment completely.

Javi:  You think you’re me?  Pendejo, you ain’t nothing like Javi G Bux!  You just Senor Hell Yeah!  The one that got treated by Powershock and was put on injury until just a few weeks ago.  You the one who lost every chance you ever got at that belt, or any belt, for over a year.  I’m Javier Gonzalez!  I am your Underground Champion!  I am the Main Event!  Everyone on this boat came to see me wrestle twice! @@

I look down at the ground, because I know he’s right.  Ain’t nobody come to see me run circles around John Blade or Eric Weaver.  Nobody expected me to win anyway.  But I’m not gonna give up this fight, same as I didn’t give up with Weaver or Blade.

Me:  They might not came to see me, vato, but they’re here seeing me during the biggest moment of my career.  They stood up and cheered when I won.  They booed one of the biggest babyfaces of the company when I stood up.  And they watching now, hombre.

Javi:  You was just in the way of what they really came to see.  Besides me beating down Stewart Mason, they wanna see Austin James Mercer take on Senor Vinnie.  They came to see Alicia Lukas fight Roxi Johnson.  They came to see damn near anything but you and John Blade.

Javi walks over and pats me on the shoulder like it was some kind of consolation prize.  He pokes me in the chest as he goes for the verbal finisher, all while the fans gasp and grow silent with shock.

Javi:  Unless they was expecting you to get thrown overboard like just another worthless piece of trash floating around in the sea.

Crowd:  OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

Javi shrugs his shoulders and goes to drop the microphone.  The crowd is cheering Javi now.  Of all people. Javi!  I have failed as a babyface in front of everyone on the cruise ship.  He turns to walk away but I spin him around and I make him look at my eyes.

Me:  You got no right to come up in here and ruin my celebration.  You try to walk around like can’t no one touch you.  You act like you got money, fame, glamor. The truth is, you got a lot of talk, and not much else.

The crowd begins to stir at my words.  I haven’t lost them yet.  I can feel their energy flowing through me once again. At least a little bit.

Me:  You think you got swagger, but ya leg broke.  You think you got money, but your account is broke.  You think you got power, but your breaker’s broke.  You think you got good looks, but ya face is broke.  Ain’t nobody cared about you until you got that belt around your waist, same as me.  They thought you was just annoying.

This time, I shrug as the crowd’s energy grows and it surges through me like they is my battery and I’m the vessel they wanna power up.  I get right in Javi’s face to prove my point.

Me: With me?  They thought I had skills.  They thought I showed promise.  They thought I was something to look forward to.  And maybe I let them down for a while, but tonight, I proved that those days is over, essa.  They far behind me, hermano.  It’s all in the past, hombre.  I just hit them golden days, and unlike you, I’m gonna not let words tear me down. I’m not gonna let you ruin my night.  You ain’t worth it, mang.  And you never will be.  Tonight is the night where the crowds will remember the name… Ahhhh

Crowd:  Ahuevo! Ahuevo! Ahuevo! Ahuevo!

I continue to get them to chant my name as Javi looks pissed off.  He pushes me out of his face and then he goes to swing at me.  I duck his punch and I kick my leg up behind me to catch him right in the face.  I jump up onto the top turnbuckle and I look out to the audience as they come to their feet.  They cheer so loudly that they got to be able to hear it all the way back in America.  Around the world even.  I start to stand up and my heart pumps.  Do I really got what it takes to tackle the beast inside me and actually take it down?  That bad guy that tells me over my shoulder that I ain’t never been good enough, and I never will be?  That inner saboteur that wants nothing more than to see me fail so that it can say “Motherfucker, I told you so’? The monster under my bed, the skeletons in my closet, the sum of every mistake I ever made?  I think so.  I leap off for the Ahuevo 630 (630 Corkscrew Moonsault) and I connect.  I hook the leg and the referee begins counting.

One!
Two!
Three!

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Liam:  Here is your winner, retaining his mask and saving the world from having to deal with that asshole Javi… Ahhhhhhhhhhhuevooooooooooooo!!!

The lights flash from the cameras.  Fireworks explode over the ship and it spreads across the ocean like a million fireflies celebrating my victory over myself.  I hold my head up high, because that’s the best celebration I can have after such an intense victory over my own worst enemy, myself.  And now, everything changes.  Everything.


MGM Grand Las Vegas, NV - November 21st, 2019: Underground Ep. 41

Chad: Ahuevo ducks under Alexis and then whips her right to Tim to force the tag. He is drawing in the cheers from the adoring audience ever since his victory over Javier Gonzalez, and even Veronica is cheering him on. However, Ahuevo stops and tags Veronica in, forcing her into the match.

Me: You got skills, mami.  Go on and show em off to everyone.  You can do it!

Gena: Veronica protests, but Ahuevo steps to the outside. He stands on the apron until she tags him right back in. Ahuevo shakes his head at her and steps inside of the ring. He looks at Tim, who is favoring his arm, and he instantly tags Veronica back inside!

Chad: Veronica is shocked and Ahuevo drops down to stand on the apron. He points across the ring to Tim and Alexis and continues to coach her on. Veronica points to the apron, demanding that Ahuevo tag back in. He pleads with her until she finally rushes across the ring.

Gena: She Spears Tim right into Alexis, and she forces Alexis back into the match.  She begins unleashing wrestling moves like we’ve never seen, all because of the motivation of the top face in the company, Ahuevo.

Chad:  She looks to Ahuevo who nods his head to give her the approval, and he gets the crowd going behind Veronica.  It’s like we’ve seen a change of heart in her.  She rallies behind the audience and she hits a Hurricanrana on Alexis!

Gena:  Ahuevo stops Tim from interfering with a Hurricanrana of his own.  Ahuevo and Veronica rise to the top turnbuckles, across the ring from one another.  Veronica smiles and shouts out to the crowd.

Veronica:  I LOVE YOU GUYS!!!

Chad:  Veronica and Ahuevo both fly off of the top ropes, landing the Ahuevo 630 to their respective opponents.  Veronica hooks the leg as Ahuevo counts with the referee, and the crowd counts with them both!

One!
Two!
Three!

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Liam: Here are your winners via pinfall… Veronica Taylor and Ahuevo!!!

The crowd cheers and showers Veronica with flowers and support of the highest order.  Veronica cries, as she has finally let go of her bitchy ways.  She walks over to me and gives me a great big hug.  We hold our arms up to celebrate the victory.  She leans in and whispers to me.

Veronica:  Thank you.  As repayment, I will never use the word “basic” ever again.

I wink at her and raise her arm up even higher.  “Turn On My Swag” is playing over the speakers and she is enjoying the new sense of pride and accomplishment she has.  She gives me a hug, and she don’t even call me “masic” to get around her new covenant.  I hug her back, and for a second, I can even feel sparks fly.  I look down into her eyes as she looks up into mine.  She is about to accept the impending kiss that is just clearly about to spark between us when…

“This is not a test. This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the Purge, sanctioned by the Sin City Collective. Weapons of barbed wire and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. However, no weapons are restricted. Management members have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed. Commencing at the siren, any and all attacks, will be legal until otherwise announced. Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until the Purge concludes. Blessed by the GRIME, a revolution reborn. May mercy be with you all.”

What the hell is this?  The lights are down and the crowd goes silent.  They in the same boat I was just in.  I look around when there are a few flashes.  I see smiles with X’s above them, in so many different colors.  Red, Yellow, Fuschia, Green, Grey, Blue, Purple, Sea Green, Light Blue, Silver, Orange… and I see the face of Angel of Filth.  She leads these pendejos down the ramp and they charge at us.  She’s about to start wailing on us, and I push Veronica out of the way.

Me:  Stay back, bebe!

I take a crack to the back from a 2x4 piece of lumber.  I feel the pain shoot down my back and I can’t stand up anymore.  I start crawling, but they continue to beat me down.  I see Alexis and Tim Staggs getting up and they rush at these people and a fight breaks out.  Tim, Alexis, and Veronica are doing a good job of making up for my shortcomings, battling off the chains and chairs and whatever else these masked guys is trying to do.  I’m losing my vision for a second and I start to see Javier Gonzalez return to me.  He is laughing at me when my head hits the ground and my mask bounces up around my head.  I blink so slowly that each blink feels like a miniature siesta.  He gets closer and closer with each blink until he whispers to me.

Javi:  Go to sleep.  I gotchu, homes…

I nod my head.  I want nothing more than to just fall asleep and never wake up again.  The world will continue to turn without me as these guys known as GRIME continue their assault.  The numbers game overwhelms Veronica, Alexis, and Tim.  They are slipping, and GRIME is coming over them like a swarm of locusts.  But they will be alright while I disappear into oblivion.  They will find a new Combat Champion.  Won’t they?  Of course they will.  I close my eyes as my heartbeat slows down.  It was a good run in life, wasn’t it? It’s slowing until it’s almost nonexistent.  Goodbye world. It’s been nice knowing you...

WAKE UP!!!

What?  Where did that come from?  I look around as the light return to normal, no more flashing, no more barely being able to see.  I’m up on my feet and standing in the center of this mob of masks and Filth.  They rub their hands together as they close in on me.  Until Alexis grabs Grey and throws her into the ringpost.  Veronica takes Fuschia and hits a Running Bulldog on top of one of the chairs they dropped.  Tim cracks Red and Blue over the head with the same 2x4 that nearly ended me.  I pick up one of the chains, and I tell them…

Me:  Hagámoslo… (Let’s do this…)

And in the blink of an eye, we’re slamming our weapons at anything that moves.  Chair to Sea Green from Veronica, chain over Light Blue’s head.  Tim and Alexis have kendo sticks, smacking Filth and Yellow with them.  Veronica nails Orange with the chair, and I grab Silver and push the 2x4 against his chin and drop him down hard, doing the same to Blue.  Veronica finishes off Purple, and we look out.  All of GRIME is down on the mat and Veronica gets on Filth’s chest, choking her with the chair.

Veronica:  If GRIME ever shows it’s face around here again, SCU will end you.  If you don’t believe me, just ask your lackeys!

Filth:  Okay! Okay!  We surrender!

Crowd:  YEAHHHHHHH!!!!!

And not to say that the battle was easy, because it definitely was not, but that is how we stomped out GRIME before they even started.  The crowd cheers us on louder than before, and they thank us for the match and the defense.  We all celebrate our victory and it’s bittersweet when I look back to see Javier moping on his way to the back.  He’s still hanging around, and I get the feeling he’s gonna hang around for a while, until I find that moment that truly defines my career, the career of the mask.  Let’s fast forward, shall we?

Staggs Dungeon, March 29th, 2020 - Climax Control 265

That Shipwrecked move is spicy, mami.  Diamond Steele has Candy locked in tight and there ain’t no other option for her but to tap out to it.  It felt like a low moment in my life.  We made it to the semi-finals of the Blast From the Past 2020 Tournament to take on Internet Champion Austin James Mercer and Roulette Champion Candy.  “How is that a low moment?” you ask?  Maybe it is arrogant of me to say, but I just do not feel like I helped Diamond win the match to the best of my abilities.  As the Combat Champion of SCU, I should… oh, no.  I lost that title along the way, too.  Lord Raab has a surprisingly strong right hook.  It don’t matter what reality you’re in.  If you get knocked by that, ain’t no title (World Nightmare or Combat) safe.

But let me continue.  As the former, long time Combat Champion, I shoulda been better help.  I want to carry my own weight.  I don’t want to be the guy that settles for a victory that I did not truly earn.  It is not the Ahuevo way of life.  As Justin announces that we have moved on to the finals of the tournament, I know that it’s my job to do better next time.  I’m not going to let a low moment destroy me.  That’s what Javier would want.  He doesn’t own me anymore.  I am my own man and I learn from my mistakes and I do better.  He can go to hell for all I care.

Me:  Hello?

But that’s the moment I got the call.  That’s the moment everything really changed.  It’s the moment I hurried on my way to that hospital bed and felt so many mixed emotions that I couldn’t help but to just grab onto his hand.  I held it close as I cried.  I looked down at his almost lifeless body, grayed out hair, wrinkled face, worn from a hard life.  Javier’s eyes struggle to open long enough to look at me.  A half hearted smile crosses his face.

Javi:  You came?

Me:  I did.  We might have had our differences, but you’re like a father to me.  You literally gave me life, and I took a life of my own.  I broke free from you, but I am part of you.  So of course I came to say goodbye.

He struggles to speak and I give his hand a squeeze to let him know that he doesn’t need to say a word because I understood it all. He takes another deep, labored breath and looks up to me with a glaze starting to come over his eyes.

Javi:  Do me one favor?

Me:  Yes, anything.

He continues breathing slowly and I give him plenty of time to work up the energy to give his one final request.  It takes nearly a full minute for him to be able to speak, but he does finally get it out.

Javi:  Win… this one… for me…

He then closes his eyes, and his breathing continues to become more shallow.  He nods along with what he says, and continues through what I am saying next.

Me:  I’m going to win it for me. But I am going to win it for you too.  Our internal warfare can only go on so long before we call for a ceasefire. And right now, I think is as good a time as any to do just that.

I can see the displeasure on his face with trying to hold on to life for just a few more minutes.  He moves his mouth and each muscle is in excruciating pain, but what he has to say must be worth it.

Javi:  Tell me… about it. Explain to me… for old time’s sake. I want to go… hearing about it…

I watch him as he begins shaking ever so slightly.  He opens his eyes to look up at me and I can see the fear of letting go in the most intimate way.  He closes his eyes to hide his vulnerability from me once more.

Me:  I won’t give such low blows as you would have in your reality.  Unlike you, I respect my opponents.  Even when I let you bleed through me for a while longer, I still carried myself with honor. Mark Cross and Evie Jordan are not the villains you want them to be.

Javi:  I know… I want to hear… your legacy… please?

I nod.  And even though he is not looking at me, I know he can tell because he calms down some and slightly adjusts himself in the bed.  He puts his ear out toward me.  I lean down next to him so that he can hear what I have to say, my way.

Me:  I have slayed monsters, and I have fallen to them, too. I have fought some of the best that this business has to offer, and in just a few short nights, I get to fight the one that gives my career a new meaning.  A new definition that, win or lose, will cement my… our legacy… in the foundation of Sin City.

He moves his head once in understanding and I know he’s listening.  Just as I know it’s my duty to help him pass on.

Me:  This match might not be the one that initially defined my career. But it is the one that will redefine it.  Facing off against the SCU Underground Champion is an honor all by itself.  And fighting the most honorable one in SCU history is an all-time high for me.  I’m not too proud to say it.  There are many greats, but to fight the man who has already crossed over to SCW, as a man who hopes to be good enough to do so one day, means the world to me. I’m sure you would have said some pretty horrible things about Mark Cross, but he is sure to be a Sin City Legend one day.  In the worst case scenario, I would be one of the guys who have helped make his career.  He will find this to be a defining moment too, so we will at least have that in common.

I can feel my inner hero trying to come out some, mang.  It’s about to catch fire in here.  Are you ready for it?

Me:  Your former SCU Combat Champion going head to head with the SCU Underground Champion, to find out who gets a shot at Ben Jordan at Summer XXXTreme VIII.  It could become full circle for me.  That ship is where I won and defended my Combat Championship.  It’s where everybody, including you, had to stop telling me I was some kind of joke.  I was taken seriously for the first time in my career on that ship. If I get past Mark Cross, then it will be the first time I get taken seriously in SCW.  The first time I ever get my hands on a World championship.

Javi:  It would not... had been if you... woulda stuck with, oh... me…

It’s my time, and it might seem disrespectful to the dying man, but I am granting his final wish. I put a gloved finger to his lips as I lean over him to continue talking.

Me:  This is the respectable way.  I got to win this one, and not just because I want to.  My career needs a win like this.  If I don’t win this, then I got to go back to SCU to honor my contract. I got to wait another year for another tournament to get my chance, and that’s only if I’m chosen.  Mark Cross gets to continue to stick around SCW to earn his opportunities more easily.  This is my long shot.

Javi:  Then why don’t… ah, you just give up?  Let Diamond con...tinue to carry your ass?

Me: Because I ain’t you, padre.  I don’t roll like that.  I earn what comes my way, just like I earned this shot.  And it’s a shot I’m gonna take.  And with all due respect to Evie Jordan for all she done accomplished, I’m gonna make it past her and Mark.  It won’t be easy, because anything worth winning ain’t ever easy. But I’m gonna do it.  And then I’m gonna take that same fire, all that momentum and energy burnin’ deep in me, and I’m gonna take that fight to Evie’s husband, Ben Jordan.  And it’s gonna be a fight for the ages.  One not even comparable to the likes of SCU Champ versus SCW Champ, because it’s gonna be brought in spades, vato.  Trust that.

Through the labored breathing, Javi manages to let out a chuckle.  It catches me by surprise and stops me from what I was saying.

Me:  What’s so funny, altered reality self?

Javi:  It’s just…  you and me… ain’t as, ah, different as I thought…  You got some cockiness in you too.

Me:  You wrong.  You got cockiness, arrogance. I’m just confident.  Losing this match wouldn’t break my world apart. I would go back to building myself up to be good enough for my next shot.  I would accept that it just ain’t my time.  That’s something you could never do.

Javi doesn’t want to agree with me, proving my point about his arrogance.  But he can’t fight it for more than a few seconds before he lets out a deep breath and nods his head.  He then chokes up and I know I have to finish this soon.

Me:  I carry respect for Evie and Mark, just as much as I do for Diamond.  They are all worthy of sharing the ring with me, and those better than me.  I am the one who feels proud to even be worthy of sharing the ring with them. By making it to the finals of the tournament, I have proven myself at their level, and ain’t nobody can take that feeling and accomplishment away from me.

And there it is, the death rattle. His body tenses up and it’s his last stand to hanging on.  I give his hand a hard squeeze as I begin to pray the Prayer for the Dead, as my good catholic upbringing has taught me to do.  By the “and always shineth upon them” part, he has let go and the machines flatline after the alarms had rung.  It’s too late to call for help.  A tear rolls down the cheek of my mask as I watch part of myself die.  I can’t seem to let go of the mask as I feel the pain and vindication overwhelm me, taking me down to one knee. I find the strength within myself to get up, and as I do so, I knock my head on a piece of equipment that sends me down to the ground. My vision blurs as I watch the room start to turn upside down.  Then, a shadow comes over me, and I wonder if I am dying with my counterpart.  But then, I see his mummified face, and it is no secret of who it is…

Javi:  Good never wins.  Not truly.  You might think it’s your time, but it’s not.  It’s my time, just like it always should have been…

And with that, I see the light shine off of the vampire fangs right before they dig into the flesh of my neck.  As much as I protest, I just can’t get away from his grip.  He sucks the last bit of life out of me as my eyes go dark.



I stand up above Ahuevo, who is laying on the ground of this personal hell of mine.  I see that he is reduced to nothing more than a suit and a mask on the ground, the hair of the mask white as a ghost.  I laugh as I lick at my fangs.

Me:  I’m back pendejos.  And I ain’t holding back no punches against that bitch Mark Cross, and that division ruiner Evie Jordan. See you fucking losers Sunday.

I wink as I walk off, stepping carefully over Ahuevo to exit the room.

 G.rim R.ealities I.nevitably M.ediating E.xistence
Rooftop Deck of Saxon Luxury Hotel; Las Vegas, Nevada
Day One

I’m already coming to grips with the fact that I’m gonna be trapped in this hotel for the better part of the next three weeks.  I mean, it could be worse, right?  I could be trapped at home, not working.  I could be stuck on the streets where I would be more exposed to the virus.  I could be laying six feet under the fucking dirt.  Day One is the hardest because it is filled with uncertainties.

Am I gonna make it through this unknown amount of time, feeling like I’m stranded on a deserted island.  Will my only friend be a volleyball with a face drawn on it?  Am I gonna grow an old white man, Father Time kinda beard?  Will I learn to sit in a totally isolated situation and become just a ticking time bomb of emotions?  When it’s all over, will I know how to function like a human being?

Or will I fall to the drink and slowly lose my mind?  Will I find the walls of this Timberline Lodge closing in on me?  Will I start talking to shit that ain’t even there?  Will my insanity build on a slow burn until I just fucking snap and take an ax to those surrounding me?  “Herrrrrrre’s Javi!”  All work and no play makes Javi a dull boy.  Sometimes human places make inhuman monsters.  “Wendy? Darling? Light, of my life. I'm not gonna hurt ya. I'm just going to bash your brains in.”

Nah… most likely I’ll just survive same as I always have, mang.  It’s just gonna be all kinds of boring.  I might be surrounded by SCU and SCW stars just as much as the GRIME guys, but ain’t nobody as grimey as me.  Nobody that’s free anyway.  The Monstimals stick to themselves and do… whatever it is they be doing.  Esther and Andrey is always off, together at the hip.  Or in between them hips.  Hitamashii don’t like me.  Hell, nobody likes me.  But what can I say?  It’s lonely at the top.

I never noticed this as much as when I stare off of this rooftop and out across the city that never sleeps, watching it sleep.  Lights off, and ain’t nobody up.  It’s a boring existence right now.  High above everyone else.  It reminded me of my time as the SCU Underground Champion.  They ain’t even seen it coming.  When I won the belt, it was like they all thought I was gonna fail.  I was gonna drop it on my first defense.  Then my second.  Then my third and so on.  Nobody expected me to make Stewart Mason look like a chump of a champ.

But when that higher calling came to me, I knew it was gonna be different.  It was gonna not have to be me against the world no more.  That was the pitch.  I let out my inner self.  I did what I wanted to do.  Finally.  I surrounded myself with people who wanted what we signed up for, an edgier wrestling product.  We might be making that magic on the camera, but once it cuts off, we just go our own separate ways.  And here I am, staring out over a sleeping city, all by myself.  The one and only person that I can talk to and be real with is locked up in an insane asylum.  That don’t look good on me, now does it?

I sit here and wonder how I could get in contact with her.  I even raided the boiler room two weeks ago to take some dried up leaves from Le Coven.  I took some candles and some salt.  I followed what I seen from them and I draw a circle.  I set up five candles and put them leaves in that little stone bowl thing and I set it on fire.  It blows up a lot quicker than I thought it would and pieces fly into the wind.

The wind.  It picked up.  I musta done something right because it’s like a small tornado surrounding me.  I read once that you can get better results when you offer a sacrifice of your own blood.  I pull out my switch and I slice my hand just a little.  I squeeze the blood into the bowl and everything gets misty and black.  Like a cloud of bad shit comes my way.  I suddenly smell something like rotten eggs filling my nostrils.  I’m shocked and I can’t seem to move until the smoke clears.  When it does, I’m sitting there alone.

Me:  Well that was fucked up.  Too bad it ain’t did nothing. Damn...

I wait a second to look around, but still don’t see nothing.  I stand up from the circle and run my foot across the salt because I’m pissed off.  I pick up the bowl thing and I throw it off the rooftop.  I start cursing under my breath as I walk toward the door, because being inside in this luxury hotel has got to be better than smelling eggs up on the roof.  But wait.  That smell might be… her.  I feel like someone is holding onto my shoulder and I turn around with hope deep down in my chest.

What I see is not Angel of Filth.  Instead, it is a man.  His eyes are as dark as the night, and his hair just a few shades lighter than that.  His face is lined with a neatly manicured beard, accented with a five o’clock shadow for styling purposes.  He is wearing a black overcoat and clothes that match.  And not to mention this dude is tall as fuck.  He has his hands at his side, but I still feel captivated.  He continues to stare at me with a thousand words flooding my mind.  But all he says is simple.

Man:  You called?

I knew I called, but not for this guy.  I mean, who the hell is he even?

Man:  I am the Angel of Destruction, Azrael.  I heard your cries and I came.

Again.  What?  I stare at him and his face is void of all emotion.  He just looks back at me, expecting me to say something.

Azrael:  Any time is fine.  Time means nothing to me.

Me:  Who are you?

Azrael:  While time means nothing to me, my knack for repeating myself is an utter inconvenience that will not be tolerated.  It’s rude, quite frankly.

Other than the words coming from his mouth, I would never know that he was pissed off at me.  Like it was no effort at all, he reaches his hand out to the side and two of the outdoor lounge chairs come scraping from across the rooftop deck, and it practically takes me right off my feet and I fall into it.  He sits down calmly and in a way that just don’t look all that comfortable.  Once I take it all in, I start to talk.

Me:  I guess I’m just confused because I was not trying to call to you.  I was trying to get to my friend who can’t be here with me right now.

Azrael:  Is this not what human telephones are for?

How did I put this to someone who is an angel, or at least thinks they’re an angel.  One that takes themselves much more serious than the only other one that I actually know, anyway.

Me:  My friend is a little… well… like you?  I guess is the way to put it.

Azrael:  Interesting.  Which one of my brothers and sisters consorts with a human that looks like yourself?  Samael?

I shrug my shoulders.  I never really thought to ask Filth that kind of question.  What was her real name, or her “angel name”?

Me:  I call her Angel of Filth.

Azrael:  Belial… Of course.  He did always say he wanted to embody the feminine chaos one day.  I just did not realize he had done so. @@

Filth was a “he”?  That is interesting news.  I stroke my chin as he continues to speak.

Azrael:  Keep your friends close and your enemies closer her always did say.  I preferred to keep them all at a distance.  Belial enjoys watching the torment where I regret it each time.  But as all fallen’s are cursed, I must live through this horror, day in and day out, in an endless stream of time.

Me:  Belial sounds so familiar.  I can’t lie, I ain’t spent a lot of time reading up on my bible and shit.  But I know that name.

Azrael:  If you follow that perverted text of lies and blasphemy, then you probably know Belial as The Devil.  The one of temptation, destruction, death, guard of the underworld, the ultimate bad guy.  It just intrigues me as to what he sees in you of all people.

That can’t be seen as any kind of a compliment.  Not to mention that my best friend and part time lover was the devil.  That can’t be doing me any good on earning points to head into heaven.

Azrael:  It’s actually the Summerlands.  The oldest religion has that right.  There are just a lot of blank spots due to Father’s own confusion of the tongue's tantrum.  How dare his favorite creation ever attempt for a second time to gain complete knowledge.  Instead of opening up the ground and sending them to the darkest pits they had ever seen as he did with his first children who disobeyed him, he just gave your blissful ignorance.

Me:  Well that sucks to be y’all then I guess.

Azrael:  It does indeed suck rather hard. But complaints of fairness belong to humans, because they have not had aeons to learn how their “God” works, let alone to just accept it.  But something tells me that you don’t wish to hear about inequities.

I shake my head.  Partially because I don’t exactly know what he means by that.  But also because I did not want to discuss the spiritual universe with the Angel of Destruction and Chaos.  It’s not normal, I know, but I need guidance right now.

Azrael:  Fear is a hindrance.  Due to your own mortality, you are prone to fear.  Us eternal beings do not need to fear.  We think rationally.  We see challenges and we decide how to tackle them without fearing our demise.  Why are you so afraid?

Me:  Honestly?  I am in this tournament with big implications for not only me, but also GRIME Wrestling.  I never thought I would get as far as I have in the tournament, and now I’m just a little lost.  I need direction.

Azrael show the first sign of emotion with a wicked grin.  With a wave of his hand, there is a table in front of us, and cards are spread out.  I can’t help but think that I already been there and done that.  But there is only one hand dealt in front of Azrael.

Azrael:  Of all things to worry about, you worry about being good enough to have made it this far in a trivial tournament put on for their entertainment of the people who feel are below you?  Humans are so paradoxical.

Me:  It’s not even like that though.  I am better than the people who are throwing their stupid money at all of us.  I know that.  But they will throw more and more money at me the further I get in this tournament.  And if me and Kate win the tournament, I get a shot at the biggest title in my group of brands, and I get to take on a guy whose career was a lot like mines.  There just so much on the line, and with all this shit going on in the world right now, I just can’t figure out how to promote myself and how to train the way I normally train.  Underneath all this ink and head grease, I’m kinda shook.

Azrael looks at his cards and guards them from me at first.  He shakes his head a couple of times until waving his hand over the cards and making them appear as he wants them to.

Azrael:  There is a song that has gone through your head a few times.  It carries an important message.  “Fortune Favours the Bold”.  It was put into your life for a reason.

Me:  Ain’t that the theme music of that bitch with the long legs who fucking sucks at cooking?  Runs around with that cheap Holly Wood get up?  I mean that one don’t even try to hide the D like Holly does.

Azrael:  Have you ever sat there and thought to yourself that some cute, sweet, naive little girl is so out of place coming out to a song like that?  That was your first clue.  That is how cosmic messages are passed along.  Whenever something seems out of place, it is usually a message.

Azrael carefully pulls one of his cards from his hand and he places it upon the table.  It is a King of Diamonds.

Azrael:  It makes sense that you have not heard it before now, because you were always a bold person.  At least I am learning as I comb through your thoughts.  You really do think a lot of yourself.  But you have had reason to until lately.  You were always a champion, even before you got a leather strap around your waist.

Me:  You damn right I was.  Why should I wait my turn when I could just carry myself like I am the best?  Eventually I was the best.  Real talk.  I didn’t need a belt to be a champion because I was born one.

Azrael puts down a Kind of Clubs and turns it around for me to look right at.  I study the card and think about everything the card stands for.

Azrael:  If you don’t need a belt, then why do you doubt yourself?  When you lost that World Nightmare belt, you lost your championship status.  Especially in your mind.  You fear and your fear causes you to lose confidence.  With an abundance of fear and a lack of confidence, you are doomed to always worrying when your time will be up.  That is why you will never be eternal.  It is why you will never win this tournament that is so strangely important to you.  It is why you will never get to move along to face Ben Jordan for the SCW World Heavyweight Championship.

Me:  So what you’re saying here is that I am good enough to win this tournament and the World Heavyweight Championship?

Azrael puts down the next card and pushes it in my direction while he twists it around to face me.  It is a Joker card.  He makes sure I’m looking at it before putting a smile on his face once more.

Azrael:  No.  You are not good enough.  There is no way in heaven that you will make it to that goal.  You’re on borrowed time.  You are basically being carried by your partner, Kate.  She can only carry you for so long before she crumbles to the pressure.  Each team you face will be more and more difficult.  If you win, it won’t be because you’re good enough.  Therefore, you will never defeat Ben Jordan.

Me:  Then what was that whole thing about me being a champion without a belt?  Getting my hopes all up and shit.

Azrael puts down another card, the Ace of Spades.  He puts it over the Joker card and taps on it.

Azrael:  You are not good enough right now, as you are.  You can be good enough, though.

Me:  It’s like a Disney fairytale, right?  I just gotta believe in myself.  Find my true love to break the curse of self doubt.  Sing a feminist power ballad.  Whistle to some birds.

Azrael:  You do not need to do any of that.  Except believe in yourself.  The rest just seems silly to me.  I don’t understand what whistling at birds would do to help you accomplish your dreams.

Now it was my turn to feel smarter than this one.  He was all confused and laughing at me like I was the idiot.  It’s like he don’t understand sarcasm or some shit.  Okay, okay.

Azrael:  Most of us don’t care much for sarcasm.  It serves no real purpose.  But it makes sense that Belial chose you because that is one of his favorite human characteristics.  You really do continue to remind me of Belial.  It is no wonder he enjoys degradative sexual acts with you.

Me:  What the…

Azrael taps the side of his head to remind me that he’s strapped into my mind just like it was his own catalogue of thoughts.  I can’t argue with it any longer.  I just accept it for what it is, and I move on.  It’s not just any day that you get to sit down and talk to the Angel of Destruction.  There’s just so many questions.  And I start to wonder if there was a little something extra in that bit I smoked a little bit ago.  I turn back to him to ask questions, and he’s just gone.  Vanished into thin air like he was never there.  And that was how I finally got my answers, and I knew what I needed to do next.  I head back to my room to get a mask ready to deliver, because part of this whole journey of Blast From the Past is to learn to work as a team instead of being two unengaged flaccid egos.



----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



G.eneral R.eminders I.nciting M.ass E.mergence
Saxon Luxury Hotel; Las Vegas, NV
Wednesday March 25th, 2020

The sun is shining down through the glass windows just above the pool and it sparkles off of the water.  It smells like rich people up in this bitch too.  I mean that like it be smelling like money and expensive perfume and colognes, but also it don’t be smelling like bleach chlorine up in here.  They be doing that rich people salt water shit.  Like I can actually breathe in here.  I ain’t choking on mediocrity and shit.  It don’t make it any worse that I’m sitting here looking at this blonde chick standing in front of me in a pink bathing suit, with a pink GRIME mask in her hands neither.  But then I remember it’s Kate Steele, and start listening to what she’s saying again, and that appeal goes out the window, chicos.

Kate:  Come on pumpkin it’s time to get dried up. We are going to spend some time with Auntie Melody! We are going to have ourselves a MAKEUP day and maybe drive James to the brink of insanity as we do it. Let’s go have some fun shall we?!

As Kate and her daughter Julie or whatever go rushing off to get they hair and nails did to get ready for our match on Sunday, I start thinking Filth might have my balls for this move.  Whatever.  I stand by it.  And I better get used to calling her Pink.  I can hear that fucking bubbly laughter all the way across the pool as they leave the door.  That’s when Yellow comes walking up to me.  He’s bold, and he’s showing a lot of commitment in his yellow mask, black mask, and nothing else?

Yellow:  Guten tag Herr Gonzalez.

Me:  Yo, hombre.  Wha’s poppin’?

Yellow looks at me for a second like he’s confused.  I can’t help but laugh at the language barrier.  I put an arm around him and he is quick to push me off like we been brothers for years now.

Yellow:  Don’t do all of that.  You might tempt me into doing something right here at poolside.

Me:  Yeah, there’s kids up around here.  You might wanna put that away before you get the cops called on you.

Again with that strange look.

Yellow:  Die Polizei?  Why for?  This is completely normal back home.

Me:  I’m all about admiring the naked bodies of all humans over the age of 18, 17 in some states, but that shit ain’t cool when kids is around, daag.

Yellow sighs and walks over to a lounge chair and he pulls on a yellow Speedo but it’s not that much better.  At least it will stop him from getting the police called on him and most likely being unmasked in front of everyone too early.  He comes back over to me and stares at me from behind those yellow “X” eyes in front of the mask.

Yellow:  This is uncomfortable for me.

Me:  But trust when I say that it’s much more comfortable for almost everybody else.

Yellow gives a single nod of the head and moves to the lounge to bask in the sunlight while I just sit down casually in the lounger next to him.  After a second, I spread out and get comfortable.

Yellow:  Are you nervous at all?  We could work this out in the gym maybe?

Me:  Nah, not really.  I had an interesting talk with an angel a couple days ago and I got a whole new outlook on this whole tournament.  If I’m acting like I’m anything less than a champion, then I will never be a champion.  I shoulda learned that while I was under the Ahuevo mask but I didn’t.  I gotta think like I’m the one to beat so that I will be.

Yellow:  This is mind over matter, yes?

I nod my head and reach over for a high five.  I never really sat down to talk to Yellow before so this was all new to me.  He might actually be someone to listen to around GRIME.

Me:  More or less.  So I just gotta work on the psychology of the match more than getting my fitness in.  The best way for me to do that is to talk some trash.  As a matter of fact…

I whistle out loud as I spot “Stoner” Scott Oliver from across the pool.  I made a purchase from him a couple days ago and it was well worth the money, so I figure we was cool to get this going.  He points to himself and I wave him over to me.  He gets up and walks around the pool to come to me.

Me:  Yo, Scott, you got a minute to shoot the shit wit me, mang?

Scott:  It would be like the first time that I ever did an interview in my swimsuit.  I could go to my room and get dressed up, get a cameraman and…

Me:  No, no.  I got my own camera here. I ain’t give a fuck what you dressed in.  I got some stuff on my mind and it’s driving me loco, vato.  I just need to get it off my chest, you know what I mean?  Of course you do.

Scott nods his head but he looks around.  He don’t see the drone camera that’s filming me right now because it’s quiet and out of sight.  It’s obvious that he don’t really know what I’m talking about but he goes with it anyway.  I slap his shoulder as I sit back up sideways in the lounger and clasp my hands together.

Scott:  What can I help you with today?  Like I wasn’t prepared for an interview so I don’t have much in the way to ask.

Me:  Get that interviewer hat on and start thinkin’, gringo.

Scott:  Ohhh, they don’t give us hats or anything.  We just come up with our questions from the top of our head or from this paper that they give us.

I blink because he can’t really be serious.  Can he?  I mean, them white boys don’t always be knowing how to handle their shit, so maybe he’s just way too blasted right now.

Me:  Lemme get you up to speed here, brother.  I’m Javier Gonzalez.  You knew that, right?

Again he nods, but with more conviction.  But it’s still obvious that he don’t know me from the vatos working the streets in they district downtown.

Me:  And ain’t nobody in SCW, SCU, or even GRIME Wrestling thought it was a chance I would ever come up from round one to round three of Blast From the Past Tournament.  Especially with the ever indecisive Kate Steele as my partner.

Scott:  OHHHH!  I thought her partner was the guy that used to be Ahuevo.  You know, the guy whose hair was insured for like $100,000 and he wore suits and shit.  He used to run around with Tim Staggs, and was the Underworld Champion or something.

Me:  That’s me.  Javier Gonzalez.

Scott and this confused look is already on my damn nerves right now.  I can’t even stand it right now.  So I ignore his idiotic questions and make a mental note never to do this with him ever again.

Me:  We made it past two teams so far.  Nobody thought we was gonna go by Dani Weston and Dmitri, but we put them on notice.  Then it was Bill Barnhart and Andrea Hernandez.  They think we got lucky for a second time.  Ain’t no way we could get lucky going against Austin James Mercer, your Internet Champion, or Candy, your Bombshell Roulette Champion.  Keep on doubting, because your hate fuels me to do better.

I pat my chest to add emphasis to what I’m saying.  Doubt all you want, but I’m gonna rise above, holms.  It’s how we do it, I think to myself.

Me:  But I ain’t gonna tell Kate to end Candy.  I ain’t gonna end AJM.  I like chaos and destruction, but truth is that I understand business.  My beef is with SCU, not SCW.  I understand that business will go on as usual as far as matches go.  So I gotta leave something for Bea Barnhart, since I ain’t left much of her husband for her.  It’s my olive branch to you, Bea.

Scott:  Oh, I got a question!

Me:  And I’m bored with you, so you can go before I decide to make us look like face twins.

Scott sees all the tattoos on my face and that is more than enough motivation for him to step off.  All while Yellow laughs a hearty laugh at Scott.

Me:  So Candy, please feel free to get ready to defend your title against Bea Barnhart.  Don’t even get your hopes up for defending the belt against either Evie or Sierra, because that’s just not in the cards for you.

Since I’m running out of storage space on my card now, because I always forget to clear the shit, I know I need to go for the throat.

Me:  Now let’s talk about you, Mr. Champ.  You got a target on your back for all of SCW.  SCU wants to work they way up to facing you one day.  GRIME got they plates full right now.  But there is one vato you gotta keep your eyes open for.  And you looking right at him.  But it ain’t even your belt I’m after.  It’s just a damn good thing that the belt ain’t on the line because I promise you I would be leaving Staggs Dungeon with it over my shoulder.

Damn right.

Me:  Truth is that you are nothing more to me than a means to an end.  Even making it to the finals, winning the trophies with GRIME Member Pink at my side, it’s not about any of that.  It’s not even about facing Ben Jordan at Summer XXXTreme.  Though don’t forgot my history, because you was there on the cruise ship for Supernova 2 when I won two belts.  That cruise ship is my good luck charm.  I will win that belt.

And everybody knows it.

Me:  But it’s not about all that.  It’s about showing the world that GRIME is a fucking threat.  Right now, people think we just some masked hoods runnin’ around stirring up shit for laughs.  Yeah, we laugh real fucking hard, but we are our own company, with our own owner, and our own GM, and our own leaders.  Austin, you way above SCU and you stated it I don’t know how many times.  So tell me how it gonna look when you fall to the Javi Bux?  How’s it gone look when I become the first from an outside company to win this tournament and the title?  Pretty damn good for GRIME.  See you all on Sunday, and get ready to get bucked.

Yellow:  That was fucking awesome, brother…

I smirk and nod but that’s it.  My smiling face, shining in the natural light and the waves of the fancy salt water pool.  That’s all you see until it all fades out.

 

A bar outside of Las Vegas
Something like 5 months ago

It’s just another one of those goddamn nights, mang.  Boring, eventless.  I went in to Underground with my Underground Championship, and guess what?  I walked out with it too.  I teamed up with Halo Williams to take on two former champions, Powershock and Ivory Sullivan.  Or was it Shelby Holt? One of The New Foundation bitches who’s time passed a long time before this match.  It just went to prove why a new era was on the horizon, homes.

I remember I walked into the bar with my title still on my shoulder, no one even takes a second look, except the bartender who saw me as soon as I entered the joint.  It was packed.  Some drunk chick was singing “Zombie” on karaoke and the people was going loco for it.  I sat down at the bar and pulled out a celebration cigar even though it didn’t feel like a time to celebrate.  The bartender saw my title and he walked over to me and leaned on the bar.

Bartender:  What can I get ya, champ?

Tonight was gonna be a long night, so I had to figure out if I wanted to get peda’d and black out, or did I want to take it slow?

Me:  Jose, por favor. Keep it coming.

He winked at me and walked over to the shelf and brought back a bottle of silver Cuervo.  He slammed two shot glasses down and poured them.  He picked one up and nudged the other toward me.

Bartender:  This one’s on me.

Being the Underground Champion, things like this was not out of the usual, so I picked up my glass and together we slammed it back and slammed our glasses back on the bar.  It was smooth for Cuervo.  No Don Julio, but I’ll settle for it.  He puts down another for me and I hand him my credit card from my wallet.  I continue to stare down at the cigar in my hand and I suddenly smell this smell.  It’s definitely not pleasant.  Like some fine hierba, you know what I’m sayin’ homes?  But also like a bitch ain’t showered in a minute.

Me:  What the hell do you want, Filth?

I hear a deranged chuckle.  Like it was effortless, not loud.  But sinister.  I look over to her and her black lips are parted into an equally deranged smile.  She flicked her tongue out at me and I just place my hands over my face and wipe down.

Me:  Ay dios mios, what the fuck do you want perra?

Filth places her hand on my chest and she begins to play with my nipple.  Before I can even react, she twists it and I jump out of my chair.

Me:  ¡Ay! ¿Qué demonios, perra?

Now she laughs for real.  She loves to fuck with people, but she ain’t ever fucked with me before.  She leans in and looks over at the tall bartender.

Filth:  He doesn’t know it yet, but he wants you, hombre.

Me:  And why exactly do you think I would care?  That goofy midwestern motherfucker in a big city, tending bar is probably way too nervous to handle me even if I wanted it.

Filth:  But… you do.  I felt it from your chest.

I laugh as I down my next shot of Cuervo and I tap the bar with it.  In seconds, the bartender is back to refill my shot glass.  He is about to say something but someone at the other end of the bar waves their hand and he rushes off down to them.

Me:  Yeah, because you’re some fallen angel, rejected by God, but you still know anything and everything.

Filth:  Please.  Your nipple was rock hard and your chest was beating a mile a minute.  You licked your lips, and you looked at his ass every time it was in view.

Me:  Look, mami.  I ain’t gay!

Filth:  I never said you were. I could lean you back in that barstool, lift up my skirt, and ride you until your head exploded, and believe me, it would explode.  And as repulsed as you are by me, you would enjoy every second of it just because you don’t want to enjoy it.  Just like you don’t want to enjoy laying with a man.  Sex is shameful to you, and that is exactly why you are addicted to it, no matter who it is.

I had enough of it by now.  I pound my fist on the bar and stare at her with fire in my eyes. I was seeing red, literally.  I grabbed onto her jacket and pulled her nose to nose with me.

Me:  You don’t know anything about me, bitch. Let me be loud and clear when I say this. You can fuck off and leave me alone right now unless there is some other point to you harrassing me.  You fuck with everyone else, but I ain’t them, comprende?

Filth moaned and her blackened tongue licked her black lips, with that pink edge sticking out in the bar lighting.  Her eyes rolled back for a second, I swear.  And then she licked my lips.  I let her go, shocked. She turned herself on the stool to stare at me as I threw back the tequila, even if only to wash her off of my lips.

Filth:  You’re fun.  I like you. And that’s exactly why I picked you before anyone else.  But you really need to pull that fucking stick out of your ass.

Me:  I am not interested in you, or the bartender.  So you can go pick someone else, and I’ll take home the KFC chick singing “Before He Cheats”.  She lookin’ finger lickin’ good up there.

And she did.  Comfort food was written all over her.  Doe eyed, petite blonde, endowed like God himself created that chest, and that little sundress was only betrayed by her fuck me pumps.  Filth looked up to admire her as well.

Filth:  She looks like she wouldn’t be that hard to corrupt.  She likes to be choked.  But that’s not what I meant. I chose you because I see your demons and I know you want what we want. A change in the way things are going in SCU.  With you and me leading this change, and Gianni playing the backstage politics, we could easily make that happen.

Me:  Oh.  You mean I can make it happen as the Underground Champion.  Do you know how many perdedores come to me wanting to join forces with me?  Damn near every pendejo backstage.  And they at least have a case.  I mean you?  You haven’t done shit but steal a title from Angel Kash and then lose it on your first defense.  You got nothing on me, mami.

Filth grabbed onto my hand.  For the first time ever, I felt compassion and even kindness from her. I was fucking weird.  I looked into her eyes and saw the compassion.  I even felt a surge of energy coming over me that made me happy and want to cry all at the same time, like God just gave me a hug or something.

Filth:  I chose not to do anything. I was promised something when I joined Sin City Underground. I was told that it was going to be a hardcore heaven for me to rule over.  Those were Tad’s exact words. Chaos and mayhem would reign supreme.  Blood would flow like wine, and screams of agony would sing a chorus.  I would be the queen of it all. I had to wait for the right moment, he said.  Then, I was told to take the belt from Angel Kash by any means necessary.  But, I was just a pawn in Tad’s little revenge scheme against Angel Kash. Once I took the belt from her, and she found a loophole to get it back, Tad ordered me to keep going. I refused.

Filth let go of my hand and she points to my empty shot glass and then to the empty spot in front of her.  The crew cut giant comes up and fills me up and then fills up a glass in front of Filth.  I just listen.

Filth:  He tried punishing me by making me fight people like Delia Darling and Valentina, people who represented the exact opposite of what I do.  Putting on mundane wrestling programming to appease Mark Ward and Christian Underwood.  I was waiting for my contract to expire when Gianni approached me.

Me:  Why Gianni?

Filth shrugged her shoulders as she savored the harsh flavor of the Cuervo, lapping it up with her tongue like a cat or something.

Filth:  Why not?  The last thing this company saw that even remotely resembled chaos was the Bad Boys.  I took what he said into consideration.  He made some good points.  I need to assemble a team of people who can’t stand to see the Angel Kash’s and Veronica Taylor’s and Good Shepherds running around here, shitting on everything that we tried to build.  And you as the Underground Champion should want to be a part of this too. These assholes are shitting on you, too.

Filth slams the rest of her shot and then she grabs onto my shoulders and it’s almost like I’m hypnotised or something.

Filth:  I saw the way you walked into this bar.  You aren’t happy with the way things are going in SCU.  You’re bored and you’re complacent.  This is work, not a career for you.  And I know you came to Northern Lights Wrestling with the same promise.  And when the move happened, you thought you were going to get that thrill that you used to get under the Ahuevo mask because it was going to be hardcore.  You’re part sadist and part masochist, just like me.  You want to kick ass or get your ass kicked.  You want to draw blood and you want to bleed.  There’s two people that I don’t fuck with, and that is because I see myself in their eyes.  And you’re one of them.  I know you better than you know yourself.

How could she when we never spoke a word to one another before tonight?  But she did.  She said out loud everything that I was thinking when I walked into this bar, and then some.  I still shake my head because she can’t possibly know all of this just from a look in my eyes.

Me:  You got the wrong guy, Filth.  It ain’t me.  I’m just enjoying the high life as the champ. I’m not gonna risk my job here for some deathmatch fantasy you and Gianni cooked up.

Filth:  Gianni is in good with the owner.  You could walk right up to Tad and Donna and spit in Tad’s face, and Trump treat Donna and still come into work the next Thursday.  True story.

I can’t help but laugh at that.  Even if she isn’t telling me the truth, the possibilities were endless now.  Filth makes the grabbing from beneath motion and I just shake my head.  Filth then extends her hand out to me and I look at it.

Filth:  So, are you in?  Will you help me assemble the guerillas?

I think about it for a second before I take her hand and give it a shake.  She pulls me in for a hug.  She pats me on the back and then she holds up her hand to the bartender.

Filth:  Hey Rory, put my shit on his tab.

Me:  Hey, wait a minute…

Rory walks over to the register and closes out the tab.  He brings me the slips to sign and when I slide it back, Rory holds onto my hand for a second.  I look up into his eyes and then I push his hand off of mine.  Me and Filth walk over toward the emergency entrance and we walk out.  Before I leave, though, I look back at Rory and nudge my head toward the door.  He speaks to a girl that just entered behind the bar.  He takes his apron off and walks toward the door in a hurry.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Rawson-Neal Psychiatric Hospital
This evening

I always imagined psych wards to be crazy, people running around pulling they hair out and shit, screaming in high pitched voices that aren’t their own, like Arkham Asylum or something.  But this one?  It was just depressing.  Bright lights, quiet, people visiting with they familia and compadres.  Bandaged wrists.  A couple people who couldn’t afford the fancy rehab joints, scratching theyself. Nothing like One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.

I walk over to a table where a lonely woman in a hospital gown sits.  Her dark makeup is smeared to almost non existence.  Her chin is stained in black tar or whatever it is that she spits in people’s faces.  She is playing cards with herself.  Not Solitaire either, but full on like somebody else was there.  I walk over and I pick up the empty hand sitting across from her and take a seat.  She looks up at me and it’s like she’s looking right through me.

Me:  Hola chica. ¿Como te sientes? (Hey girl, how you doing?)

Angel of Filth looks up at me and there’s something off about her.  Something… normal.  I tap the table and she hands me another card.  An ace to match my facing queen, but the four in my hand says I should bluff.

Filth:  Me siento mejor de lo que estoy segura. (I feel better than I look, I’m sure.)  How is the group holding up without me?

I sigh and she puts down her card to show a King and a seven.  I show my 17 to her and she pulls the cards back in.

Me:  You know how it is.  They do what they do no matter who’s around.  It’s why we picked them, isn’t it?  Red and Choir Girl Gone Bad can’t keep they hands off each other.  Crimson sits in contemplation all the time.  Rory tries to hit up Crimson.  Raab is rubbing that damn belt in my face.

Filth:  I’m sure he is.  Or, maybe you should put on a gown and stay the night here, because you’re paranoid.  Raab does what Henry tells him to do.  I don’t see Henry saying that he should taunt you.

I shake my head as Filth deals me in.  I get a Ten facing up, and a nine down.  I motion for a hold.  Filth slaps down a seven to match her queen.  Then she slaps down another card.

Me:  I ain’t paranoid, mang.  I’m just so used to holding the top belt.  But, it is nice not to have it while I’m going through this Blast From the Past shit.  It lets me focus on what it’s like to be in SCW for a minute, because it’s the only way GRIME will get representation for real in the main brand.

Filth:  They treat us like a cancer.  But who can blame them?  We kind of are.  If it wasn’t for Tad jumping ship at the last second, we would not be around Sin City at all anymore.  Until the Blast From the Past tournament came up.

I see her put down one more card and a wicked smile comes over her face.  She turns over to match a showing ace along with her 2.  I take the cards from her hand and I shuffle them good.

Me:  I still don’t see why you wanted me to get in on this tournament.  And getting teamed up with a puta like Kate Steele?  Do you really think we’re going to get far?

Filth:  Kate Steele doesn’t know her bitchface mouth from a gloryhole.  She’s idiotic, indecisive, and will stab you in the back the second someone dangles a golden carrot in front of her face.

I put down a Four and she gets an Eight.  Face down, I got a Six.  She taps for another card.

Me:  I’m not hearing any positives here.  To me, you’re just telling me how pointless this whole thing is for us and for me, Filth.  She’s unreliable and she’s wishy washy.

Filth:  But who amongst us isn’t?  Who isn’t such a rotten bastard that they shouldn’t be trusted by anyone, ever.  And don’t say yourself, Ahuevo.  Out of any of us, you are the most rotten bastard, and that’s exactly why I wanted you to join this army.  If GRIME ever spilled over to SCW, I would be rushing to Kate Steele’s locker room to sign her up.  Aside from being the Internet Champion, she is married to a misogynistic former crossdresser who said anything with a vagina should be in the kitchen.  And her friend, Crystal?  She would, and has, slapped her own wife just for a shot at the title.  She turned out underage to pop out a little cum pet named Brittany, who was so horrendous that she got fired from SCU.  We’re revolting, and we haven’t even been fired!  This is the kind of company Kate keeps.  Heathens!  Like you, like me, like the rest of GRIME.  Shut your pussy lips for five seconds and see where your advantage is here.

If this bitch wasn’t in a psych ward right now, and if the seven guards posted randomly around weren’t here… I glare down at the cards when she calls for another card. She gets a Three and holds.  I put down a Nine for myself.

Me:  So you’re saying that I should count my lucky fucking stars that I got paired up with Kate Steele?  There really is a first time for anything, isn’t there?

Filth:  She’s got a chance at the World Bombshell Championship.  That’s the biggest prize in the company.  There’s no way as a champion that she stands a chance at being a double champion unless she wins this tournament with you.  She’s not going to stab you in the back.  If anything, she’s going to fight tooth and motherfucking nail to have your back.  She’s a golden whore, and she wouldn’t think twice about dropping to her knees for you if that’s what it took to become the 2020 Blast From the Past winner.

I can’t help but chuckle.  Not at the thought of Kate doing anything and everything I ask of her, but because of how true it really is.  It’s indisputably true.  I shake my head as I set down a Jack. to bust. Damn I shoulda paid attention to what I was doing.

Me:  Kate Steele isn’t the worst partner I could have gotten, I guess. But we also know how she is about tag team matches.  She doesn’t give a shit about them.  When she faced London Underground a while back, they were the odds on favorites, but they phoned in that entire match and got they asses kicked. Hard.  I still ain’t convinced that we’re gonna win this thing.

Filth:  Then don’t show up.  Leave her hanging before she can leave you hanging.  It’s not like you stand a chance at taking on the main brand anyway.  SCU’s Underground Champion can’t even win the Roulette Championship.  You don’t stand a chance at winning a contendership to their World Heavyweight Championship.

Me:  ¡Como el infierno que no! (Like fucking hell I don’t!) Mark Cross is a fake champion, and only because that little chica perra Valentina smacked me in the face with a fucking cast on her arm.  Mark Cross is half the man I am, on his best day!  I will go take on Dmitri and Dani Weston.  I will motivate Kate Steele to put in her best effort, and we will shock the world by defeating a Rookie of the Year, former Bombshell Champion, and former multi-time World Heavyweight Champion.  No one is going to see the underdogs getting out the gate on this one.  I…

I look over and Filth is smiling at me.  I fell right into her reverse psychology bullshit.  She played me like a damn fiddle, and now she’s dancing in celebration in her chair.  Which, by the way, is so fucking weird and normal of her.  It’s almost scary.  I set the cards down in front of her and I stand up from my seat.  I’m about to walk off, but this normal Filth makes me sad and I turn back to her and grab her hand from over the cards.

Me:  Thank you.  I needed to refocus on what matters here.  But, what about GRIME?  You’re stuck in here, and… well… you ain’t getting outta here anytime soon if this place is worth it’s weight.

Filth squeezes my hand and looks away from me.  She looks around the room like she’s calculating something.  I try to follow her stares, but she doesn’t want me to get onto her.  She looks back into my eyes with the most genuinely Filth smile I seen today and she says:

Filth:  I could have escaped when they brought me back to Vegas when they ID’d me, but I’m just having a little fun.  I’ve gotten out of here once before.  I can do it again when I’m ready.

And with that, visiting hours are over.  Everyone begins to leave and I ain’t about to get lost in that shuffle.  Not like I would with my makeover, but still… I head them off and look back to see the shadow of Filth’s wings growing behind her, waving goodbye to me.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



An abandoned parking lot near the airport
Now

I’m getting turned with my GRIME motherfuckers in a parking lot, just waiting for the time to catch my flight to Scotland.  Of course I ain’t gonna roll up into Climax Control without at least some of my crew, especially after the shit I’m about to say.  I got Yellow, Sky Blue, Andrey, and Esther to ride with me.  But for now, it’s Don Julio, blunts, cigarettes, Coronas, and many other debaucherous items floating around.  We chillin’ by a trash can fire with a camper, cars, and motorcycles parked all around.  My people break out the stereo and blast “Heathens” by Twenty One Pilots.  I guess some people think it’s out theme song.

Either way, I got Rory hanging by my right, and Green hanging by my left.  They feelin’ up on my chest, passing me the cigar and the Don.  I’m feeling real good right now, you know what I’m sayin’, vato?  And with the slight of my hand, I pop a flame and light my own cigarette.  I see SCW reporter Pussy Willow coming up on the scene and I laugh.  Rory and Andrey follow my look and laugh along with me.  I take my arm from around Rory and I whistle at Pussy, which is something I never got to do because it usually whistlin’ at me.  She walks up and I stand up from my lawn chair and meet her in front of the fire.

Me:  Hola chica. ¿Qué te trae a este lado del ferrocarril, mami?  (Hey girl.  What brings you to this side of the tracks, mami?)

Pussy:  This is where I was told you wanted to meet for your interview?  Am I too late?

Me:  Nah, girl.  You right on time.  We just getting this party started.  Why don’t you have a seat on Rory’s lap and we can kick this thing off. Grab a drink, stay a while!

Pussy looks over to Rory who makes kissy faces at her and pats down on his lap.  Pussy looks around for another open seat, but can’t seem to find one other than mine.  She looks back to me with a polite smile.

Pussy:  I’m fine to stand.  And I don’t drink on the clock.

Me:  Well ain’t you just sweet.  Following the rules and shit.  What if I don’t feel like standing?  What if I told you to get on your knees in front of my lawn chair and meet mi monstruo de un ojo, you know what I mean?

Pussy goes to answer, but one of my tactful GRIME members answers for her when he shouts out over the music “HIS D*CK!” and everyone erupts into laughter.  Pussy scratches the back of her neck as she starts to walk backward.

Me:  Whoaaaaa, where you going, blanca?  You should consider that a once in a lifetime offer, perra.

Pussy:  Oh, um… I forgot a cord in my car and I need to get it to start the interview.

Pussy walks over to her car as we watch her.  We howl and stomp around, taking the noise level up to eleven.  We get even louder when she throws it into reverse and speeds out of the parking lot.  Glass bottles fly at her car as she disappears into the night.  I can’t help but laugh as I watch.  But then it hits me.  I ain’t got no one to interview me before my big SCW debut match!  Have no fear, Gemma Frost is already here!  She walks up to me and grabs the GRIME Cam and brings it in just a little closer.

Me:  The offer is still on the table, mamacita.

Gemma:  I’ll pass, but thank you.  Now take this microphone and say shit about your match before I slap you silly, you delirious little punk.

Feisty.  I like that.  I laugh and do as I’m told.  I take my microphone and Gemma stands by, looking more bored than ever.

Me:  Odelay, Sin City Wrestling!  It’s that grimy motherfucker, former SCU Underground and World Nightmare Champion, Javier Gonzalez!  Apparently I gotta say some shit about the Blast From the Past tournament opening round in Hamilton, Scotland this coming Sunday.

I shrug my shoulders.  It’s a nice little plug.  Of course I ain’t used to having to plug shit anymore, because GRIME don’t plug.  We just do.

Me:  But you all know what’s coming your way.  Lots of randomly paired teams come together to fight to honor Luna Vachon and “Rowdy” Roddy Piper.  Those former multi time champions who paved the way for people like us to do what we do best today.  I would be lying if I said Roddy wasn’t one of my childhood heros and inspirations.  And Luna the fireball, inspired lots of people in so many ways, to break stereotypes.  Win or lose, and all machismo aside, I am honored to be honoring them.

I nod my head.  Now that I got that outta the way, it’s time to do me, right?

Me:  Now, I been quiet about my partner.  Truth be told, I ain’t happy about teaming with Kate Steele.  She ain’t who I would have picked first, but she will have to do.  I coulda done a lot worse than Bitchface.  Yeah, I see you lookin’.

I hold my hands around my eyes like binoculars and look around.

Me:  But the problem is that we facing off against Dani Weston and Dmitri.

I raise my arms up like I’m scared, but y’all know better.

Me:  Dmitri the vampire, and Dani who is just returning from injury.  Motherfucker sparkles in the sunlight, or sizzles out.  One UV lightbulb ray and he toasted.  And with someone as sneaky as Kate by my side, do Dani really think she can take us out?  Kate’s gonna be on that injury like a spanish fly on the rim of a strawberry daiquiri glass, mang.  And you think I’m gonna stop that?  She can treat this match like a fucking revolving door to SCW.  She come back with that medical slip, then she leaves with that slip in her hands, shredded.

I shrug my shoulders because I couldn’t give a damn less.  She’s just one of the stepping stones for us anyway.

Me:  Dmitri got some ring rust on him too.  He can claim World Heavyweight Champion status all he wants.  He can claim he never lost it, but we all know how that goes.  From one former World Champion to another, I wouldn’t bet on this match being your big return.  The difference between us, vato vampiro, is that I will be a World Champion again, and you just gonna fade off like Lestat, into the night, lost and forgotten.  We all got our time to disappear, and now is your’s Dmitri.  And Dani’s.  I sure hope y’all ain’t plannin’ no celebration, homes.  Now ain’t the time, and I ain’t the easy target.  See you on Sunday…

I was never really one for goodbye’s.  I just hand the microphone back to Gemma and take my seat again.  Rory hands me the cigar, and Green gets me with that Don, and I’m straight.  Chillin’ before I get into that mindset to bring home the W to GRIME this week.

 >[~]-CONTACT INFORMATION-[~]

Handlers Name: Val
Any Messengers:
Years Active: 4


[~]-CONTRACT INFORMATION-[~]

You will be booked at least 2-3 times a month. In order for this to happen, you will be booked in singles as well as tag team matches. Since tag team matches take place in an intergender division, please let Tad Ezra know if you wish to only wrestle your gender. We will still book you in tag team matches under Mixed tag team rules but keep in mind, tag team titles will be intergender so if you wish not to wrestle the opposite gender, you limit yourself to only singles gold when you do get a title shot. ***Be sure to fill out a Tag Team application***


[~]-WRESTLER INFORMATION-[~]



Picture Base (Name Only, real picture bases no cartoons. Check Taken Pic Bases List): Jay Hernandez
Wrestlers Twitter: @javigbux
Wrestlers Name: Javier Gonzales
Nickname(s): Javi
Age: 27
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 190lb
Hometown: Albuquerque, NM
Personality: Pompous ass who will stoop to any low in order to draw heat and attention
Strengths: Confidence, skills, endurance
Weaknesses: Temper, easily distracted, especially by the crowd, the need to be the center of attention/his ego
Gimmick If Any: n/a
Alignment: Heel


>[~]-ENTRANCE DESCRIPTION-[~]


Entrance Theme Music (Check Taken Theme Song List): "Way Down We Go" by KALEO
Entrance Description (Mandatory for bookings):

“Way Down We Go” by KALEO begins playing on the speakers. Camera shifts to the side of the stage to see Javier Gonzalez stepping through the curtains. He has his arms raised in the air as he walks back and forth.

Liam: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand her partner… Coming to the ring from Albuquerque, NM, standing at 5’10” and weighing in at 190lb, he is… Javier… Gonzalez!!!

Javier charges down the rampway and slides inside of the ring. He walks to each corner, stepping up to the second rope as he stares across the crowd with no emotion. After completing all six sides, he stops and settles into his corner.


[~]-WRESTLING MOVES-[~]

Everyone gets one finisher and 3 signature moves as well as a move set package. Please pick one package for your wrestler. Any moves you really want your wrestler to have please add it to the the signature moves section.

Wrestling Move Packages *Remember you can only pick one*
-All-Arounder (Jack of all trades, master of none)

Signature Moves

1.) Spinning Heel Kick
2.) Tornado DDT
3.) Pumphandle Slam

Finishing Move

1.) Javi Bux (Shoulderbutts to cornered opponent, followed by a Back Handspring, then a Spear)


[~]-MISC INFORMATION-[~]

Weapon Of Choice: Any weapons
Match Of Choice: Streetfight


[~]-BIOGRAPHY-[~]

Superstar Bio: Javi came out of nowhere to Sin City Wrestling. He struggled to find his way, but eventually he realized it was to be the biggest star that SCU has ever seen.  And in his mind, it is only a matter of time before he is in the spotlight.
Past Accomplishments: n/a


[~]-MANAGER INFORMATION-[~]

***Be sure to fill out an [a href="http://www.scwrestling.net/boards/index.php?showtopic=12572"]NPC/Manager application[/a] as well***

Manager's Name: n/a

Manager's Pic Base (Check Taken Pic Bases List): n/a

 The camera fades inside of a Starbucks in Dublin, Ireland.  The air smells of warm coffee tones with soft notes of creamy vanilla, pungent hazelnut, and a hint of chocolate shavings.  It is a familiar spot for anyone around the world, no matter where you find yourself.  For one person, it helps to ease the nerves to feel as if she is close to home, one venti at a time.  That person is Fabiana Valentina Camila Isabella Lopez.  However, for all intensive purposes, she has chosen for the name on her cup to read “Fabi”.  She walks up to the counter as her name is called and she takes her cup, keeping her camera phone focused on her face as she pouts out her lips.  She fixes her already perfect hair to remain humble in front of the camera before she lets on a soft chuckle and a bright smile.

“Hello wrestling fans, regardless of which promotion you watch.”

She takes her cup and offers a soft “Thank you” and a nice tip to the barista before running her tongue across the whipped topping, getting a bit of cream on her upper lip.  Upon licking it off, she continues.

“It is your girl, Fabi, AKA your Spanish Fly, but better known as Valentina.  Yes, that Valentina.  The one who has been so quiet lately.  Many people wonder why I have been so quiet.  I was the greatest thing going in Sin City Underground, and Northern Lights Wrestling before the rebranding.  I was your ‘It’ girl.  The one whose name was always on everyone’s lips.”

Valentina sighs as she relives her moment in the spotlight.  She taps at her chin as he doe eyes flutter over toward the camera again.

“What happened, Val?”

Valentina shrugs her shoulders. She continues walking through the Starbucks before leaving off into the beautifully mild Dublin afternoon.  The camera adjusts to the lighting as Val’s eyes adjust as well.  Her neatly manicured fingers shield her eyes in helping in the process.  She gasps and continues speaking.

“It’s simple. I have been trying to keep a low profile. After Angel Kash bought me out of a title match.  Yesssss, I’m that Valentina.  I was Tad Ezra’s one and only hope for getting that belt off of Angel, and I had so much pressure on me.  I played a game with the game player, and in that moment, I thought it was the best way to play it.”

Valentina walks along the street, finding the cute Irish men passing by, and the not so cute ones.  She winks at one, who knows he doesn’t stand a chance with her, but she’s in a giving mood.  She finds a spot to sit near a fountain where she spreads out comfortably, setting her Frappe down in the shot.

“Since then, I have received things in the mail.  Nasty things.  Hate mail, cut up Barbie dolls, underwear from inmates with blood stains that I am pretty sure are calling me filthy names, a dead squirrel once, a middle finger… like, literally a sawed off middle finger.  It’s been hard.”

Valentina shrugs her shoulders and pouts she runs her fingers through her hair once more, batting her eyelashes.

“I don’t even know what to say to the fans.  Lo siento bebe.  I’m sorry.  I outsmarted Angel Kash, but I looked like a fraud in doing it.  I went on to face her again, and I lost.  But at least I took a stand.  At least I stood up for the rest of us instead of hiding in a boiler room like Le Coven, or hiding off the shows for months like The New Foundation, or just sucking it up like literally the rest of the roster.  I took a stand, and I fell like an angel falling from grace.  I was defeated.”

Valentina’s Latina temper is starting to show throughout her rant, but it quickly fades into sadness that is almost too cutesy to be taken serious, even though she is quite serious.  She bites at her bottom lip in silence.

“I hate to be the cliche, talking about rising from the ashes like a phoenix, so I will not.  Instead, I have chosen a new path for my career.  My friends have left me on my own, but I will not let this define me.  Instead, I will shoot higher than most, and I will be one of the few elite to step inside of an SCW ring for the Blast From the Past tournament.”

Valentina seems determined, but the doubt is hidden in the chocolate pools of her eyes.  She looks from side to side and takes a deep breath as she notices people snapping pictures of her.  She decides to pay attention to her video blog instead.

“I am teaming up, literally with “The Phoenix”, Travis LeVitt.  How ironic is that?  It is so ironic that we have got to win this week.  Travis came within an inch of becoming the SCW World Heavyweight Champion.  He flew up the ranks in SCW faster than anybody else short of the champion himself, Fenris.  He is talented, and he deserves a talented partner.  That is what I am hoping to bring to this match.  Talent.  Conviction. This match will be my redemption.  I promise you of this, papi.”

Valentina nods, but her words seem to draw a slightly larger crowd.  She doesn’t even notice as her ponytail is flipped over her shoulder.  She leans up a bit, getting the fountain in the shot as she continues.

“My opponents are different. I haven’t seen a lot from them.  I’ve seen Otaki play football in her underwear.  She is tough.  Nobody knows how tough it is to do this unless they tried out for an LFL team and did not make the cut.  So little protection from tackles and punts and… Okay, I’m totally kidding. I would never try out for something so ridiculous.  Who do I look like, Queen of Apathy?”

Within a second of this, Sadie Spears herself comes from the corner of the screen slowly.  She appears to be glaring at Valentina for a second until her eyes begin to turn toward the camera as well.  She shrugs her shoulders.

“Meh…”

“Dios knows I love a cheap plug from another brand. Get. It. Bay. Bay!”

Valentina snaps her fingers with each syllable as Apathy just stares uncomfortably at the camera.  Valentina then chuckles nervously and pushes Apathy out of the view ever so slowly.

“Anyway, I literally have not seen Otaki anywhere.  Not long enough to study up on her.  For all I know, she could have unrivaled skills inside of the ring, but that is not something I have seen.  At the very least, I hope that this is true, because I look forward to proving myself, and I can only look as good as my opponent lets me look.  Well, in this case, that might not be as true.  Purple hair is in, but eyeliner as thick as Chanelle Martinez’ thighs went out of style when Delia Darling did.  Sorry bout it.  And just like that, Otaki will find herself as a passing trend in this tournament. I have far too much to prove to fall to someone such as her, with the commitment level of a frat boy with steel blue eyes.”

Valentina winks at the camera and then she dips her hand into the fountain.  Something about this fountain was so much more pure than what she had become accustomed to in the United States.  It just felt cleaner.  She waves her fingers through the water as she glances up into the camera.

“I have heard nothing since Blaze of Glory from my supposed partner.  Despite his achievements, I am starting to wonder if I can count on him at all.  Unlike Otaki, I am prepared to carry my team on my back.  It is a new age, girl, and we are capable of doing it for ourselves.  Are you ready to do that, Meagan?  Because your partner surely isn’t going to be of any assistance to you.”

A fluttering of the eyelashes and Valentina brings her hand from the fountain.  She watches the crowd growing around her, and her eyes begin to light up in hope.  She giggles before returning to her rant.

“Much like I am doing right now, I can be a great distraction.  I know how to flaunt what I have.  I can walk the walk, and I can talk the talk.  Let’s face it, I am a woman, and therefore I naturally possess a special talent in tapping into the primal urges of a man, and manipulating it to my own benefit with nothing more than a fluttering lash and a smile.  And, let’s be honest here.  Your partner is not known for being a tough nut to crack.  Rather than paying any attention to his match against Austin James Mercer, he was posting thirsty tweets on Twitter.”

Valentina holds up a finger as if telling all of the fans to pause as she looks something up on her phone.  She taps away at the screen as if she were a pro.  She then giggles and brings her finger back, snapping as she bobs her head and ponytail back and forth.

“Single or not, put this as your status inbox only! Heart for relationship, Double heart for falling for you, just friends, hug you and kiss you, I like you a lot…’ so on, and so on until the ending of ‘I want you.’  Would it not hurt to at least act interested in your job?  Because… it kind of is your job.  The one source of income you have to offer a lady.  Thirsty bitches aren’t going to fall for a broke ass Cabrón, mijo. You gotta have dinero, papi. And by the looks of things, you do not have it.  Nor do you have wrestling skills, or anything redeeming about yourself.  I will not have to try hard to distract you while Travis takes you out, and then I will do what Otaki isn’t able to do for you, and that is carry my partner to the finish line.”

Valentina looks up to the crowd of gawking men.  She stands up from the fountain and finishes taking a lap of cream with her tongue, and then sucks on the straw.  She seems to enjoy her drink heavily.

“Mmmm… Blast From the Past is to honor wrestlers of the past by showing what they have paved the way for.  Therefore, it is very much about the future.  But, that doesn’t mean that we won’t have a blast doing it.  String up the boots and tape those wrists.  Let’s go out there and make them proud.”

Valentina smiles and takes a bow as the crowd around her continues to watch silently, doing only god knows what with their eyes.  She waves to them as she smiles, finding them to be adoring fans.  She walks off before blowing a kiss to the camera and waving to it before shutting the camera off.