Prologue 2: The Rules of the Game (And Where to Play It)
Oct 22, 2018 20:40:20 GMT -5
Post by Delikado on Oct 22, 2018 20:40:20 GMT -5
Picking up immediately where we left off, the rock misses the figure standing a few feet away. Delikado looks him over with suspicion. He looks Asian… but also not? He’s just weird looking, that’s about all you need to know.
Delikado: Who are you?
Russ Ling: My name is Russ Ling. I am the owner of the Fountain of Old. I raised it from a single bottle of Evian into the lake you see before you.
Delikado: Evian? That explains the shitty taste.
Russ Ling: Yes, and it is also the source of turning a body older, such as has befallen yours. I have watched you for some time, Delikado.
Delikado: You should. I’m amazing.
Delikado tries to show off by flexing, but another crack in his bones causes him to whimper like a baby and huddle over into the dirt.
Russ Ling: You are amazing….ly screwed is what you are, for you have soaked up more of the Fountain of Old’s power than was ever intended, and are little more than a walking corpse. The fates might deem this appropriate, given your previous existence of whittling down the lives of others until they were practically corpses themselves. Now we find the tables are turned. Proper justice should dictate you remain old this way…FOREVER!
Delikado: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO—wait, like, “forever ever”, or just until Delikado gets the inevitable reboot?
Russ Ling: Forever ever.
Delikado: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
Russ Ling: However, there is—
Delikado: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!
Russ Ling: ….a means of restoring—
Delikado: *hysterical weeping* NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
Russ Ling: --YOUR BODY—
Delikado: *sobbing* NO!!!!!!!
Tourist: Why doesn’t he just go find the Fountain of Youth and use that to reverse the effects?
Delikado stops sobbing and looks toward the random tourist standing there in a Fountain of Old t-shirt taking pictures.
Delikado: *sniff Y-Yeah! What he said!
Russ Ling: Pssht, what is this, a fantasy? Don’t be so moronic. There’s no such thing as a Fountain of Youth.
Tourist: True. This is real life. Well, I’m off to the Fountain of Old giftshop. Byyyyyye!
As the tourist leaves, Delikado begins to break down again.
Delikado: NOOOO—
Russ Ling: Please don’t start that again. As I was trying to say, I *do* know a way to change you back. You must return to the place where you were at your purest human element, and engage in giving back with all the love you’ve ever been capable of giving.
Delikado: Soooooo….porn?
Russ Ling: What?
Delikado: It’s porn, right? Delikado’s gotta do porn? I mean, nothing is more “pure human element” than raw-dog banging, and “giving back love” is just a euphemism for cu—
Russ Ling: Do not finish that thought! It’s not porn!
Delikado: Huh. Cuz you phrased this all weird and shit so Deli simply thought—
Russ Ling: IT’S NOT PORN!
Delikado: Okay, jeeeeez, someone needs to watch some and get rid of that stress…
Russ Ling: Delikado, I am talking about the business that was the central part of your life for YEARS. The industry that was you at your absolute best. You left it thinking you were done, but the fact is you didn’t want it to be over. If you’ve ever loved something, TRULY 100% genuinely loved something, it’s this. You must return…to the ring. Professional wrestling! Only wrestling’s power is strong enough to counter the Fountain of Old’s power. What’s more, it was success that gave your life purpose and genuine mirth, its value, and due to you being in such an advanced oldness from over-soaking in the Fountain, it’ll take a lot of success to bring you back to our original state.
Russ Ling strokes his chin in a calculating manner as he looks at the old pruned Cuban.
Russ Ling: Yes, you must be at least 100, so upon returning to wrestling, it will take 100 wins to completely fix you.
Delikado: Pfffft, big whoop, Delikado will just buy his own company, hire a bunch of weaklings, and beat them all up in a night. Bing, bang, boom, young Deli’ll be frogging hot college co-eds by breakfast time!
Russ Ling: Were it so easy. No, for that is not how you did it back in your prime, and so the magic would not be REAL. The wrestling matches, and their wins, must be OFFICIAL and they must be EARNED. One win will shed off a single year in your age range.
Delikado: Ohhh, go soak your noodle next to a freaking shark! You’re just making up rules to screw me! You want wrestling? Fine! Delikado’s gonna superkick you square in the face! LIKE A BA—
Delikado tries to get up, but instead his oldness immediately cripples him and causes his body to weakly fall over. He coughs and groans in agony before trying to get up again.
Delikado: LIKE A B—
And yet again he slumps over even more pathetically than before.
Delikado: *panting* O…Okay…Delikado’ll bite…But how am I gonna wrestle like this?! I’ve pooped myself twice since you’ve shown up, and one of those times was on accident!
Russ Ling: Luckily, all is not lost in that department. Join me in the ring here.
The scene scrolls over a few feet to reveal a pro wrestling ring just sitting there. The tourist from before is there, taking more pictures.
Russ Ling: I set up this ring so the Fountain of Old angels who clean it would have somewhere to release their frustration.
Indeed, we see two fat guys in angel costumes are actually brawling it out. Russ Ling walks over to the ring, while Delikado literally crawls like a toddler across the ground. Ling climbs in like normal, but Deli is forced to depend on the two “angels” to pick him up and roll him inside. With a nod of his head to another nearby angel in a referee costume, a bell is rung like in typical wrestling matches.
DING DING DING!
Russ Ling: Now try to stand.
Delikado grunts, but shockingly enough, he’s able to rise up without any struggle and without immediately crumbling under his old man-ness. Russ smiles at Delikado’s “WTF” face.
Russ Ling: Yes, once the wrestling bell signals the start of a match, your centenarian traits will be suppressed, and you will be able to compete much as you did before. You might look silly and completely out of place, being a grandpa-looking figure hopping about and fighting it out with all those young men and women in their tight, glistening bodies and their even tighter outfits, but that is just your situation, so you’ll have to abide.
Delikado: ….You still make it sound like porn.
All the same, Delikado looks his wrinkly self over, throwing some punches and kicks. Everything seems good so far. He then goes straight for the big spot, skipping across the ring and mounting the top turnbuckle like a monkey. Eyeing the two “angels” Deli skyrockets off the top rope and kicks both of them in the face. As they crumble, so Delikado stands tall and proud…if exceptionally goofy in his current form as Russ predicted.
Delikado: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! DELIKADO IS THE BEST THERE’S EVER BEEN!!! I AM THE GREATEST! I AM GONNA NUT AAAAAALLLL OVER YOUR FAT NOT-DELIKADO FACES! IT’S NOT GAY! IT’S VICTORY! VICTORY! AND IT’S AAAAALLL MI---
Russ Ling: Aaaaand match over.
DING DING DING!
Delikado instantly crumbles like a statue to the ground.
Delikado: SON OF A BITCH!
Russ Ling: Therein lies the additional cross you must bear. When you’re not in a match, your body resorts to the age you’re settled on, and reacts appropriately. Right now, you break and are left to the mercies of those around you. Choose your company wisely, Delikado.
Delikado: Hey, plothole! Delikado walked earlier when he was “Cher’s face” old! Why not now?
Russ Ling: Falling into the Fountain the second time aged you past a threshold. I told you, you absorbed far more of its power than was appropriate.
Delikado plants his head in the ground and groans. Russ walks over and kneels down, giving him a reassuring pat on the back.
Russ Ling: Have faith. You have your goal, and while it won’t be easy at all, you know how to achieve it. All you need now is a place to compete, perhaps a friend or two to support you in your weaker moments.
Delikado: Hold up, Wrestling, you’re not gonna help a bro out?! You got me in this mess!
Russ Ling: A.) It’s ‘Russ Ling’. B.) You really got yourself in this mess. I didn’t throw you into a Fountain that makes you old. Twice. And C.) I have stuff going on. A girl I like is coming over later and we’re gonna “Hulu and Flame.”
Delikado: Nobody says that! NOBODY SAYS THAT! NOW you’re making shit up!
Russ Ling: Says you, the old fart who likely won’t get any action anytime soon. The point is, I can’t abandon the Fountain. Fate has dictated my destiny, as it has yours. I will see to it you get back to civilization where you may plan your return to pro wrestling, but after that, you must find your own way.
With that, Russ Ling and the “angels” lift Delikado up and guide his crippled self to what we can only presume is civilization.
Delikado: ….Are you sure it’s not porn Delikado’s supposed to go in, instead of wrestling?
Russ Ling: I’m positive.
Delikado: Just saying, it might not be Delikado’s kink, but a lot of other people out there enjoy watching “old person porn.” Like a LOOOOOOOOOOOOT. There’s a bunch of it out there. Like, I remember this one time—
Russ Ling: IT’S NOT PORN, AND IT WILL NEVER BE PORN!!!
With a phasing edit, we return to civilization with Delikado crawling about on the sidewalk like he’s Ivar the Boneless from Vikings. Passersby eyeball the grey-haired wrinkly one in utter bafflement, yet they keep their distance as the Cuban mutters to himself.
Delikado: A company to wrestle in….that’s what Delikado needs. But who the crap is still around? Is wrestling even a THING anymore?!
Delikado rolls over onto his back and pulls out a cell-phone.
Delikado: Robot, is wrestling still a thing, and if it is, where can Delikado get some?
An app on the phone beeps before responding.
App: For the last time, my name is Alexa, not Robot, you insipid ass. Anyway, here’s what I found on wrestling being a thing: professional wrestling is a—
Delikado: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ…
Indeed, Delikado has almost instantly dozed off thanks to his old man-ness, leaving the phone to ramble nonstop for the next twenty minutes and also order a bunch of shit thanks to people walking by and saying things like “man, I could really use a pizza the size of Kentucky right now!” Finally, Delikado farts himself awake, looks at his phone, and panics.
Delikado: Gah! What’s this Russian spy gadget?! YA WON’T GET ME, STALIN!!!
Delikado chucks his phone near an open sewer. It falls in, and only afterwards does Delikado recover his senses enough to realize he dun goofed.
Delikado: iPhone, no! Delikado was just partially joking when he said you belong in the sewer! Come back! I need you!
He crawls over to the sewer and starts to reach down in to fruitlessly grab his phone. A hissing from below causes Deli to pause.
Pennywise: Hiya, Deli. What a nice phone. Do you want it back? Well too bad, because I’m gonna keep it to take dick pics. They float down here!
Delikado: Oh hell no, gimme!
Delikado gets into an obscured fight with the clown in the sewer, all the while being oblivious to the oncoming teenager riding a skateboard. Like a punk does he insist on speeding towards Deli with no sign of stopping or even slightly diverting his path.
Teenager: Out of my way, you ugly old [3-letter homophobic insult]!
*CRASH!*
The teen rides his skateboard over Delikado’s head, causing Deli to roll over in a half-conscious state out of the sewer. His eyes are spinning as he faces up toward the sky. The teen’s last word, that three-letter insult not worth posting, hovers before the Cuban’s vision, echoing in his mind. The letters steadily rotate and rearrange themselves.
Delikado sits up, looking like he’s trying to understand the mystery letters before him.
Delikado: FGA…?
In a total 100% coincidence not at all contrived I promise yuuuuup, Delikado looks to his right and spies a billboard for a Frontier Grappling Arts event. His eyes go wide.
Delikado: FGA! That’s it! That’s the place Delikado has to go and wrestle!
Eager as a beaver on an elm, Delikado begins to crawl toward the billboard, until he seems to register something else.
Delikado: *sigh* Delikado can’t go in like this. Going in alone, they’ll think Delikado is some crazy old person. Probably try to put me in a home, then make me disappear like a Saudi Arabian journalist in a consulate. That Fountain guy DID say Delikado should bring some support. Yeaaaah. Let FGA see Delikado ain’t no joke, not when he’s got a crew at his back. That’s the way, haha yeah! *crack* OW MY DAMN BACK! STOP IT, BACK, JUST STOP IT!
To ease his pain, Delikado struggles to pull a cigar from his pocket and goes to put it in his mouth.
Delikado: But…who’s Deli gonna get…?
At that moment, a newlywed couple pass by in the middle of a conversation.
Man: Where should we go for our honeymoon, baby?
Woman: Oh, I don’t know. The Bahamas? Europe? My ex-boyfriend’s ski lodge?
Man: What about Monzón Castle? You know, it was built by the Banu Hud dynasty, and that IS our new last name as a married couple!
Woman: Haha, you’re right it IS! Soooooo trendy! Monzón Castle it is!
Man: Yeah, Monzón!
The couple departs, leaving Delikado with a cocked eyebrow of annoyance. And yet, as he lights his cigar, a new look crosses his face. The look of a man who realizes the pieces are slowly coming together.
Delikado: …It’s gotta be her.
As he blows a puff of smoke in the air, we phase edit out one more time to Delikado getting off another bus and crawling up the stairs to an apartment in the city. He looks at the doorbell way up out of his reach, then sighs, and finally just bangs his head on the door a few times to serve as knocking.
Delikado: Wait, Deli. You gotta make a good impression! She always was about that strength! And that dick, nahmean heheheheh!
Using every ounce of strength he has, Delikado grips the sides of the apartment doorframe and uses them to pull his bony old body to its feet. Quivering like crazy, he chuckles as he forces himself to maintain a standing posture. Just as he gets settled, the front door opens and a dark haired beautiful woman stands there looking quizzical, even vaguely horrified. Delikado extends his arms wide in overexaggerated joy.
Delikado: Holy shit, Sofia heeeeeeeeey!
Sofia Monzón, Delikado’s ex-girlfriend, ex-manager, his longest associate, as well as perhaps his most personal rival—indeed, they’ve practically been everything there is to each other at some point in the last decade--immediately slams the door with a brute force that causes Delikado to lose his grip and stumble backwards down the stairs. He lands on the pavement with a crunch and a few pained groans. As he lies there rejected and already bruising, Deli reaches into his pocket and pulls out another cell-phone to make a quick call.
Delikado: Ughhh…..yes, hello, Life-Alert? Delikado’s fallen and he can’t get up, because Sofia is a great big cu—
Delikado: Who are you?
Russ Ling: My name is Russ Ling. I am the owner of the Fountain of Old. I raised it from a single bottle of Evian into the lake you see before you.
Delikado: Evian? That explains the shitty taste.
Russ Ling: Yes, and it is also the source of turning a body older, such as has befallen yours. I have watched you for some time, Delikado.
Delikado: You should. I’m amazing.
Delikado tries to show off by flexing, but another crack in his bones causes him to whimper like a baby and huddle over into the dirt.
Russ Ling: You are amazing….ly screwed is what you are, for you have soaked up more of the Fountain of Old’s power than was ever intended, and are little more than a walking corpse. The fates might deem this appropriate, given your previous existence of whittling down the lives of others until they were practically corpses themselves. Now we find the tables are turned. Proper justice should dictate you remain old this way…FOREVER!
Delikado: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO—wait, like, “forever ever”, or just until Delikado gets the inevitable reboot?
Russ Ling: Forever ever.
Delikado: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
Russ Ling: However, there is—
Delikado: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!
Russ Ling: ….a means of restoring—
Delikado: *hysterical weeping* NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
Russ Ling: --YOUR BODY—
Delikado: *sobbing* NO!!!!!!!
Tourist: Why doesn’t he just go find the Fountain of Youth and use that to reverse the effects?
Delikado stops sobbing and looks toward the random tourist standing there in a Fountain of Old t-shirt taking pictures.
Delikado: *sniff Y-Yeah! What he said!
Russ Ling: Pssht, what is this, a fantasy? Don’t be so moronic. There’s no such thing as a Fountain of Youth.
Tourist: True. This is real life. Well, I’m off to the Fountain of Old giftshop. Byyyyyye!
As the tourist leaves, Delikado begins to break down again.
Delikado: NOOOO—
Russ Ling: Please don’t start that again. As I was trying to say, I *do* know a way to change you back. You must return to the place where you were at your purest human element, and engage in giving back with all the love you’ve ever been capable of giving.
Delikado: Soooooo….porn?
Russ Ling: What?
Delikado: It’s porn, right? Delikado’s gotta do porn? I mean, nothing is more “pure human element” than raw-dog banging, and “giving back love” is just a euphemism for cu—
Russ Ling: Do not finish that thought! It’s not porn!
Delikado: Huh. Cuz you phrased this all weird and shit so Deli simply thought—
Russ Ling: IT’S NOT PORN!
Delikado: Okay, jeeeeez, someone needs to watch some and get rid of that stress…
Russ Ling: Delikado, I am talking about the business that was the central part of your life for YEARS. The industry that was you at your absolute best. You left it thinking you were done, but the fact is you didn’t want it to be over. If you’ve ever loved something, TRULY 100% genuinely loved something, it’s this. You must return…to the ring. Professional wrestling! Only wrestling’s power is strong enough to counter the Fountain of Old’s power. What’s more, it was success that gave your life purpose and genuine mirth, its value, and due to you being in such an advanced oldness from over-soaking in the Fountain, it’ll take a lot of success to bring you back to our original state.
Russ Ling strokes his chin in a calculating manner as he looks at the old pruned Cuban.
Russ Ling: Yes, you must be at least 100, so upon returning to wrestling, it will take 100 wins to completely fix you.
Delikado: Pfffft, big whoop, Delikado will just buy his own company, hire a bunch of weaklings, and beat them all up in a night. Bing, bang, boom, young Deli’ll be frogging hot college co-eds by breakfast time!
Russ Ling: Were it so easy. No, for that is not how you did it back in your prime, and so the magic would not be REAL. The wrestling matches, and their wins, must be OFFICIAL and they must be EARNED. One win will shed off a single year in your age range.
Delikado: Ohhh, go soak your noodle next to a freaking shark! You’re just making up rules to screw me! You want wrestling? Fine! Delikado’s gonna superkick you square in the face! LIKE A BA—
Delikado tries to get up, but instead his oldness immediately cripples him and causes his body to weakly fall over. He coughs and groans in agony before trying to get up again.
Delikado: LIKE A B—
And yet again he slumps over even more pathetically than before.
Delikado: *panting* O…Okay…Delikado’ll bite…But how am I gonna wrestle like this?! I’ve pooped myself twice since you’ve shown up, and one of those times was on accident!
Russ Ling: Luckily, all is not lost in that department. Join me in the ring here.
The scene scrolls over a few feet to reveal a pro wrestling ring just sitting there. The tourist from before is there, taking more pictures.
Russ Ling: I set up this ring so the Fountain of Old angels who clean it would have somewhere to release their frustration.
Indeed, we see two fat guys in angel costumes are actually brawling it out. Russ Ling walks over to the ring, while Delikado literally crawls like a toddler across the ground. Ling climbs in like normal, but Deli is forced to depend on the two “angels” to pick him up and roll him inside. With a nod of his head to another nearby angel in a referee costume, a bell is rung like in typical wrestling matches.
DING DING DING!
Russ Ling: Now try to stand.
Delikado grunts, but shockingly enough, he’s able to rise up without any struggle and without immediately crumbling under his old man-ness. Russ smiles at Delikado’s “WTF” face.
Russ Ling: Yes, once the wrestling bell signals the start of a match, your centenarian traits will be suppressed, and you will be able to compete much as you did before. You might look silly and completely out of place, being a grandpa-looking figure hopping about and fighting it out with all those young men and women in their tight, glistening bodies and their even tighter outfits, but that is just your situation, so you’ll have to abide.
Delikado: ….You still make it sound like porn.
All the same, Delikado looks his wrinkly self over, throwing some punches and kicks. Everything seems good so far. He then goes straight for the big spot, skipping across the ring and mounting the top turnbuckle like a monkey. Eyeing the two “angels” Deli skyrockets off the top rope and kicks both of them in the face. As they crumble, so Delikado stands tall and proud…if exceptionally goofy in his current form as Russ predicted.
Delikado: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! DELIKADO IS THE BEST THERE’S EVER BEEN!!! I AM THE GREATEST! I AM GONNA NUT AAAAAALLLL OVER YOUR FAT NOT-DELIKADO FACES! IT’S NOT GAY! IT’S VICTORY! VICTORY! AND IT’S AAAAALLL MI---
Russ Ling: Aaaaand match over.
DING DING DING!
Delikado instantly crumbles like a statue to the ground.
Delikado: SON OF A BITCH!
Russ Ling: Therein lies the additional cross you must bear. When you’re not in a match, your body resorts to the age you’re settled on, and reacts appropriately. Right now, you break and are left to the mercies of those around you. Choose your company wisely, Delikado.
Delikado: Hey, plothole! Delikado walked earlier when he was “Cher’s face” old! Why not now?
Russ Ling: Falling into the Fountain the second time aged you past a threshold. I told you, you absorbed far more of its power than was appropriate.
Delikado plants his head in the ground and groans. Russ walks over and kneels down, giving him a reassuring pat on the back.
Russ Ling: Have faith. You have your goal, and while it won’t be easy at all, you know how to achieve it. All you need now is a place to compete, perhaps a friend or two to support you in your weaker moments.
Delikado: Hold up, Wrestling, you’re not gonna help a bro out?! You got me in this mess!
Russ Ling: A.) It’s ‘Russ Ling’. B.) You really got yourself in this mess. I didn’t throw you into a Fountain that makes you old. Twice. And C.) I have stuff going on. A girl I like is coming over later and we’re gonna “Hulu and Flame.”
Delikado: Nobody says that! NOBODY SAYS THAT! NOW you’re making shit up!
Russ Ling: Says you, the old fart who likely won’t get any action anytime soon. The point is, I can’t abandon the Fountain. Fate has dictated my destiny, as it has yours. I will see to it you get back to civilization where you may plan your return to pro wrestling, but after that, you must find your own way.
With that, Russ Ling and the “angels” lift Delikado up and guide his crippled self to what we can only presume is civilization.
Delikado: ….Are you sure it’s not porn Delikado’s supposed to go in, instead of wrestling?
Russ Ling: I’m positive.
Delikado: Just saying, it might not be Delikado’s kink, but a lot of other people out there enjoy watching “old person porn.” Like a LOOOOOOOOOOOOT. There’s a bunch of it out there. Like, I remember this one time—
Russ Ling: IT’S NOT PORN, AND IT WILL NEVER BE PORN!!!
With a phasing edit, we return to civilization with Delikado crawling about on the sidewalk like he’s Ivar the Boneless from Vikings. Passersby eyeball the grey-haired wrinkly one in utter bafflement, yet they keep their distance as the Cuban mutters to himself.
Delikado: A company to wrestle in….that’s what Delikado needs. But who the crap is still around? Is wrestling even a THING anymore?!
Delikado rolls over onto his back and pulls out a cell-phone.
Delikado: Robot, is wrestling still a thing, and if it is, where can Delikado get some?
An app on the phone beeps before responding.
App: For the last time, my name is Alexa, not Robot, you insipid ass. Anyway, here’s what I found on wrestling being a thing: professional wrestling is a—
Delikado: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ…
Indeed, Delikado has almost instantly dozed off thanks to his old man-ness, leaving the phone to ramble nonstop for the next twenty minutes and also order a bunch of shit thanks to people walking by and saying things like “man, I could really use a pizza the size of Kentucky right now!” Finally, Delikado farts himself awake, looks at his phone, and panics.
Delikado: Gah! What’s this Russian spy gadget?! YA WON’T GET ME, STALIN!!!
Delikado chucks his phone near an open sewer. It falls in, and only afterwards does Delikado recover his senses enough to realize he dun goofed.
Delikado: iPhone, no! Delikado was just partially joking when he said you belong in the sewer! Come back! I need you!
He crawls over to the sewer and starts to reach down in to fruitlessly grab his phone. A hissing from below causes Deli to pause.
Pennywise: Hiya, Deli. What a nice phone. Do you want it back? Well too bad, because I’m gonna keep it to take dick pics. They float down here!
Delikado: Oh hell no, gimme!
Delikado gets into an obscured fight with the clown in the sewer, all the while being oblivious to the oncoming teenager riding a skateboard. Like a punk does he insist on speeding towards Deli with no sign of stopping or even slightly diverting his path.
Teenager: Out of my way, you ugly old [3-letter homophobic insult]!
*CRASH!*
The teen rides his skateboard over Delikado’s head, causing Deli to roll over in a half-conscious state out of the sewer. His eyes are spinning as he faces up toward the sky. The teen’s last word, that three-letter insult not worth posting, hovers before the Cuban’s vision, echoing in his mind. The letters steadily rotate and rearrange themselves.
FGA
Delikado sits up, looking like he’s trying to understand the mystery letters before him.
Delikado: FGA…?
In a total 100% coincidence not at all contrived I promise yuuuuup, Delikado looks to his right and spies a billboard for a Frontier Grappling Arts event. His eyes go wide.
Delikado: FGA! That’s it! That’s the place Delikado has to go and wrestle!
Eager as a beaver on an elm, Delikado begins to crawl toward the billboard, until he seems to register something else.
Delikado: *sigh* Delikado can’t go in like this. Going in alone, they’ll think Delikado is some crazy old person. Probably try to put me in a home, then make me disappear like a Saudi Arabian journalist in a consulate. That Fountain guy DID say Delikado should bring some support. Yeaaaah. Let FGA see Delikado ain’t no joke, not when he’s got a crew at his back. That’s the way, haha yeah! *crack* OW MY DAMN BACK! STOP IT, BACK, JUST STOP IT!
To ease his pain, Delikado struggles to pull a cigar from his pocket and goes to put it in his mouth.
Delikado: But…who’s Deli gonna get…?
At that moment, a newlywed couple pass by in the middle of a conversation.
Man: Where should we go for our honeymoon, baby?
Woman: Oh, I don’t know. The Bahamas? Europe? My ex-boyfriend’s ski lodge?
Man: What about Monzón Castle? You know, it was built by the Banu Hud dynasty, and that IS our new last name as a married couple!
Woman: Haha, you’re right it IS! Soooooo trendy! Monzón Castle it is!
Man: Yeah, Monzón!
The couple departs, leaving Delikado with a cocked eyebrow of annoyance. And yet, as he lights his cigar, a new look crosses his face. The look of a man who realizes the pieces are slowly coming together.
Delikado: …It’s gotta be her.
As he blows a puff of smoke in the air, we phase edit out one more time to Delikado getting off another bus and crawling up the stairs to an apartment in the city. He looks at the doorbell way up out of his reach, then sighs, and finally just bangs his head on the door a few times to serve as knocking.
Delikado: Wait, Deli. You gotta make a good impression! She always was about that strength! And that dick, nahmean heheheheh!
Using every ounce of strength he has, Delikado grips the sides of the apartment doorframe and uses them to pull his bony old body to its feet. Quivering like crazy, he chuckles as he forces himself to maintain a standing posture. Just as he gets settled, the front door opens and a dark haired beautiful woman stands there looking quizzical, even vaguely horrified. Delikado extends his arms wide in overexaggerated joy.
Delikado: Holy shit, Sofia heeeeeeeeey!
Sofia Monzón, Delikado’s ex-girlfriend, ex-manager, his longest associate, as well as perhaps his most personal rival—indeed, they’ve practically been everything there is to each other at some point in the last decade--immediately slams the door with a brute force that causes Delikado to lose his grip and stumble backwards down the stairs. He lands on the pavement with a crunch and a few pained groans. As he lies there rejected and already bruising, Deli reaches into his pocket and pulls out another cell-phone to make a quick call.
Delikado: Ughhh…..yes, hello, Life-Alert? Delikado’s fallen and he can’t get up, because Sofia is a great big cu—
Continued in the next part…