"Sin City Takes Cancun" -
SIPSE TVCUN Studios, Cancun, Mexico
The broadcast faded back in from a dramatic Telemundo commercial break featuring a clip of a beloved telenovela, its music swelling before the screen cut to the familiar jingle of SIPSE TVCUN Channel 8.1. The transition was smoothly done, the announcer’s warm voice welcoming viewers back to the evening news as the camera glided across the studio.
The set was sleek and modern, with a glass-topped anchor desk illuminated by soft blue and white LED accents that echo the coastal colors of Cancún. Behind the desk stretched a massive, HD video wall, displaying a panoramic view of the Caribbean skyline at sunset. Two anchors sat poised at the desk; a sharply dressed older male in a navy suit with a silver tie and his co-anchor, a confident woman in a vibrant coral dress, both radiating practiced professionalism. To their right, however, was an empty third chair, hinting at a guest or commentator soon to join the conversation.
Being televised in Mexico, the anchors were speaking their native tongue, namely Mexican Spanish.
Lucía Vargas said, "Muy buenas tardes, Cancún! You're watching En Vivo Cancun right here on SIPSE TVCUN, Channel 8.1. I’m Lucía Vargas..."
"And I’m Marco Del Río." The man stated. "Today, we’re turning up the energy in the studio because the Party Hard tour is making waves in the Yucatán Peninsula, and no, we’re not talking about beach parties!
"That’s right, Marco. Sin City Wrestling is rolling into Cancun for a special weekend of high-octane wrestling entertainment at THE CITY, Cancun's hottest night spot!" Lucía stated. "It’s all part of their 2025 Party Hard Tour! And let me tell you, the lineup is electric!
Marco Del Río added, "And today, we are beyond excited to welcome a very special guest! He’s fierce, he’s fabulous, and he is the reigning Sin City Wrestling World Heavyweight Champion. Cancun, get ready!"
Lucía Vargas turns to the camera with a dramatic flare.
Lucía Vargas introduced, "Put your hands together for Helluva Bottom Carter!"
"Born This Way" by Lady Gaga blares through the studio speakers and colored spotlights swirled about. The studio audience cheered as Carter emerged from behind the stage curtains. The champion was dressed, as always, in a flamboyant style. He wore a custom-made bedazzled blazer in iridescent turquoise and silver, matching the Caribbean vibes (crafted by Olive Garden, his personal stylist), paired with crisp white dress slacks and ocean corral dress shoes. He waved enthusiastically, blowing kisses to the crowd as he walked across the stage and to the set.
He shook hands with both anchors, even doing a quick twirl at Marco’s request, before taking his seat. It took a moment for the studio audience to slow down in their cheers before the spotlight interview could begin.
Lucía beamed, "Carter, welcome to Cancun! And welcome to our show! You’ve brought serious star power with you today."
Marco asked, "Is it true that you've never been to Cancun before?"
Needless to say, Carter's extent of the Spanish language was his high school Spanish classes. But see, that's the beauty of spots such as this. Voice-over translation and subtitles work wonders.
Carter shook his head in the negative, his eyes wide and sparkling with excitement. "No, never!" He answered. "It's hard to believe - even harder to admit. I've been wrestling just over six years and everywhere this career has taken me, Cancun is the one spot I've always wanted to hit but this is my first chance.
Marco asked, "How does it feel being here in the heart of the Yucatán for one of the biggest stops on the Party Hard tour?"
"Honestly? It feels like the universe dipped a margarita in glitter and said, 'Carter, this one's for you!'" He laughed. "The vibes, the fans, the energy? It's pure magic here! And trust me, when Sin City Wrestling throws a party, especially my kind of party? We make Spring Break look like a Church Ladies luncheon by comparison!"
Lucía laughed, "We love that! Now, you're not only preparing for a huge championship defense in Florida at the aptly named event, Violent Conduct X, but how are you preparing for Cancun’s event, and what can fans expect?"
"Oh baby, we're going even bigger, better and badder than ever!" Carter's excitement quickly took over. "The fans here deserve a show they’ll be talking about for the rest of the year! Expect the unexpected: high-flying drama, sequins, sweat, and a few surprises. And as for preparation... (taps his temple) it’s all about mindset, darling. I train hard, hydrate harder, and sparkle the hardest.
Marco and Lucía both laugh, finding Carter's enthusiasm and energy infectious.
Marco leaned in, "So, you mentioned surprises. Any hints?"
Carter smiled and shook his head, "Honestly? If I went and told you what to expect, it would ruin all of the fun! There is always something going on at any SCW show that surprises the fans! Whether it be a return of a Superstar or Bombshell or some crazy match stipulation never before seen!"
Lucía said, "Okay, we are not ready! Carter, before we let you go, any message for your Mexican fans?"
Carter turned and faced the camera and studio audience directly.
"To all my gorgeous fans here in Mexico! Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your passion, your energy ... it's what fuels performers like me to shine even brighter! Come out this weekend. Scream, cheer, dance, and live loud! I’ll see you at THE CITY where we party... sin límites!"
Applause broke out again as “Born This Way” faded back in briefly. Marco and Lucía both shake Carter's hand.
Marco raised Carter's hand, exclaiming, "Helluva Bottom Carter, everyone! The champ, the Pride of SCW!"
Lucía added with applause, "Don’t miss Sin City Wrestling live in Cancun this Sunday night! Tickets are almost sold out so grab yours! Unless you want to hear about it from everyone but yourself!"
The camera panned out as the anchors waved goodbye and Carter posed playfully.
The music faded out.
Cut to commercial.
The blazing Mexican sun filtered through the dense canopy of the Yucatán jungle, casting shade across the moss-covered stones of an ancient path. The air hung heavy with humidity. Birds screeched overhead while the occasional rustle hinted at something skittering in the underbrush.
It was here, far from the neon lights and raucous arenas of the SCW's 2025 Party Hard Tour, that Helluva Bottom Carter and Miles Kasey found themselves walking hand-in-hand, their fingers loosely entwined, sharing a rare moment of peace. This wasn’t a fan meet-and-greet. No cameras, no autograph tables. Just them along with other tourists - some from the SCW roster and staff alike, the jungle, and a mysterious Mayan ruin known ominously as the Scorpion’s Temple.
Carter wiped at his brow and said, "So let me get this straight - pardon the pun. This place is supposedly cursed, has zero guardrails, and was once used for human sacrifices?"
Miles grinned like a wicked little mad scientist as he adjusted his baseball cap, saying, "Yup. Which means it's exactly the kind of vacation we needed."
Carter tilted his head back and to the side, giving his husband a sarcastic but smoldering sidelong glance, "Oh you really know how to show a fella a really good time, don't you?"
"Come on, love. Think about it! No paparazzi, no trainers yelling at us to cut carbs, and if we fall into an ancient snake pit?" Miles took his arm and snuggled his head into the crevice between Carter's neck and shoulder. "At least it'll be together."
Carter barked in a fit of laughter, stating, "Wow. That’s almost sweet in a ‘Lifetime murder mystery movie’ kind of way"
Their tour guide, a small man named Luis, beckoned them forward as he spoke rapid Spanish mixed with accented English. "This temple was once dedicated to Ek Chuaj, the scorpion god of war and trade. Warriors would come here to pray for strength... and sometimes, offer blood."
Carter murmured for Miles's ears alone, "Sounds like my run-ins with Alex Jones..." Earning a smirk from his husband as the tour had made its way into the inner sanctum of the temple. The inner sanctum itself was a chamber lined with ancient scorpion carvings, their pincers raised in eternal warning. The air was cooler here, freakishly still. Ominous.
In the center of the room stood a stone altar. Atop it sat a perfectly preserved obsidian dagger. Carter noticed it and a lone eyebrow rose as he quipped, "That’s not ominous at all."
Miles smiled, then leaned over at the waist and in a teasing whisper, spoke, "You thinking what I’m thinking?"
Carter turned to Miles and said flatly, "You can't take that as a souvenir." Earning a bottom lip jetted out by his husband and a kick at an imaginary pebble. Carter turned away with a smile that betrayed the amusement of his husband's antics, closing his eyes.
The low murmur of the tour group and the comforting presence of Miles vanished in an instant, replaced by a suffocating silence that seemed to close in on all sides. Carter blinked as the flicker of modern lantern light gave way to the faint orange glow of burning torches mounted in stone sconces. The air was thick with the smell of incense and damp limestone, and the smooth floor beneath his shoes now felt uneven, carved by hands not yet weathered by centuries. The inner sanctum, once a curated site for tourists, now loomed with a raw, almost menacing majesty. Its freshly painted glyphs and scorpion motifs glistening as if newly etched. Carter realized that he stood alone, thrust mentally into the temple’s original time, as if the stones themselves had pulled him back to witness their birth.
"You know, standing here in the shadow of something carved by hands long gone? It really puts things into perspective. This right here is sacred ground. History. Power. Legacy. It’s perfect. Creepy altar. Ancient weapons. Probably haunted by a few hundred scorpion spirits who really hated losing. Honestly? If this didn’t scream Climax Control promo backdrop, then I wouldn't know what could."
"But before the next round of chaos on the dance floor? We Go Home. One last stop before Violent Conduct X. One last test. And it's by the whims of our new General Manager that really stretch the very definition of the word 'test' as we all know it."A soft, ironic laugh escaped him.
"Just imagine it! I'm teaming with the man I’ll be staring down across that ring at Violent Conduct V. Aiden Reynolds. Now listen—me and Aiden? It's going to be more than a little awkward, not gonna lie. There's a weird tension there. Sort of like rooming with your ex before a custody hearing. It all started after I retained my championship over J2H and Aiden outlasted all of those men in the Overboard Battle Royal to win this title shot in the first place. But I watched that match because I admit: I was hoping Miles would win just to see the marketing SCW would cook up for a husband versus husband World title match! I've watched Aiden from when he inked his first contract. I knew then what he was capable of. And I am even more convinced now. The guy is dangerous, calculated, and every bit the athlete people said he was."
"And come Sunday, I have to trust him. Because if we couldn’t work together, we wouldn’t just lose the match. We’d walk straight into the biggest moments of our careers looking like complete wankers."Carter gave the camera a look and shrugged.
"My husband is British. You pick up a few things."He then turned back and sighed.
"But before we tear each other apart, we’ve got a little business to handle. Because across that ring are two men with everything to lose. And that is where things get even weirder."
"Justin Smith. Hardcore lifer. Veteran of violence. He doesn’t care about the win column. He cares about the scars he leaves behind. He ain’t in there for the sport. He’s in there for the hurt. He'd rather see you bleed than see his hand raised. And trust me, I’ve bled enough in this business to know the type. Some folks count wins. Justin counts scars and broken bones. He's a veteran who has seen it all. A bruiser. A guy who had seen more blood in one match than most people do in a year. He doesn’t care about titles, momentum, or even walking out under his own power! He just wants damage. He wants to feel your bones give under his fists."He allowed the words to settle in before moving on.
"Then there’s Felix Hernandez. A man who named himself after a damn cartoon cat for some God-forsaken reason. A man who had something real. A force in Bulldog Bill Barnhart, and he then goes and spits in the man's face! Disloyalty? That sticks with me. I don’t forget it. So yeah... Come Violent Conduct X? I’m rooting for Justin. Loyalty still means something in this world."
"But that’s then. This is now. And right now? Justin and Felix? You're both standing across from me and Aiden Reynolds. You wanna fight like your careers depend on it? Good!"A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, something fierce behind it.
"Because Aiden and I wouldn't have it any other way."Carter drew in a sharp breath and opened his eyes again. The torches, the incense, the raw pulse of the temple... Gone. The chamber had returned to its modern quiet, punctuated only by the shuffle of sneakers on stone and the soft echo of the tour guide’s voice. The carved walls looked old again, their paint faded and cracked by centuries instead of shimmering with fresh color.
Miles slipped to his side, an arm winding around his shoulder with easy warmth. Miles squeezed his shoulder, guiding him back toward the cluster of tourists gathered near the altar as the guide droned on about burial rites and offerings to the scorpion gods. Carter leaned into the familiar touch, grounding himself.
