Pedro Gonzales and the Choice.

[Anna]

Elsewhere - Filmed Thursday, July 21 - 9:56 pm.

There are many ways to start a promo.

You can start with words, with action, with a quote, with song lyrics. But the result is the same. In order to record a good promo, the main goal in to make your point clear. You can be silly, you can parody, you can be serious. And most people in this occurrence would call out Prince MacRear for not backing up his mouth or (given the rather juvenile view some seem to hold) mock him for caring more about his looks than his training.

Pedro Gonzales does neither. He merely takes a minivac to a mock up of Felix the Cat's Bag of Tricks. He sweeps the dustballs off of it, giving the felt a good cleaning with a smile on his face. The suit he wears isn't cheap by any means yet remains quite casual without its tie. A minute passes, then...

"I do not like being treacherous, Príncipe MacRear."

His voice sounds different, a tint of confidence emboldens it.

"If given a choice, I would much rather have a fair fight. And it's not because I'm delusional in thinking that everybody should do what I'm doing. I prefer it because when both competitors play fair and the bell rings, everything's...clean. In that type of match, there's no dispute over whom was better than whom that night. If a man got pinned, his opponent was superior. If he submitted, his opponent was better at mangling a body part. If they got counted out--"

He shrugs.

"That just wasn't his night. Unfortunately, it seems like there isn't much stock in fairness in this company anymore. The nice guys who keep their mouths shut and do their work are simply a quaint little undercard compared to the upper echelon of cheats, megalomaniacs, and Emily Carter who almost seems to be an exception to the rule. Even Nest has started to sound like a bitter Saturday morning cartoon villain upon showing even a hint of weakness.

I used to be pretty bitter that I didn't seem to be going anywhere in my career.

Now? I don't care."

Those four words seem to linger for a moment as Pedro takes out a bottle of water from the bag and drawls a a swig out of it.

"I don't care because I figure that as long as Señor Bond is going to yo-yo me up and down and off the cards, I might as well make an attempt to outshine every single person on the roster with the time I'm given. How fortunate, then, am I to have you. Supposedly, one of the best in Lion's Den. He of the sparkly outfits. Hell, you're even praised by the WOOOOOOORLD Champion of Frontier Grappling Arts itself, Señor Cannon."

He couldn't help but mock faint in response to all of this.

"Dios mio, I think I'm getting the vapors!"

He barely suppresses an eyeroll. People snap, students get hurt. Never mind the whole developmental shtick. Pedro wouldn't be surprised if the Baronesa ended up in a wheelchair sometime in the near future.

"We can go through win-loss records and the caliber of talent we've each faced as an attempt to psych each other out before the bell rings. You're welcome to try that dance if you wish. But anybody who gets rattled because their opponent beat so-and-so and they couldn't is either new to the business in general or their own worst enemies.

I know what I am now.

I know what I will be later.

As for the match, you have two choices. We can do this athletically in good faith--"

A motion to the bag.

"Or you can push me to pull out my bag of tricks. It's a metaphor, of course. But a good one nonetheless. Because I'm getting sick of being a dutiful wrestle clone when I should've did what I originally did to begin with. So you're better off just putting the phone down..."

A beat.

"That's right. I'm talking to you. Stop tweeting like you're a human emoji and put it down."

Put it dooooown, little butterfly. Ignore your coat for five seconds.

"Good boy. Remind me to get you a biscuit." With this, Mexico's City Favorite Son pulls a MacRear happy time face. ^___^ "While you look at me blankly, Príncipe, let me just remind you that I am not just going to be the nasty who keeps his boyish good looks for another two weeks or whenever I get booked next. I am going to be the awful nasty that HAS FURY."

The smirk creeps on his face as he picks up his patterned luggage.

"How harsh that fury is your choice."

As he leaves with tricks in his hands, darkness.