Prologue 3: Putting the Band Back Together

[Delikado]

Delikado sits outside on the porch of Sofia’s residence. It is snowing heavily, and the Cuban is ill-dressed for such weather in his pimpish attire. With dark rings around his eyes and an increasingly haggard appearance, he shivers and moans in misery.

Delikado: Well, this is it! Delikado’s hit the end of the line! The big sleep! Gonna bite the big one! The dickery’s done dicked me! And to think, Delikado’s browser history is going to be wide open for everyone’s viewing pleasure. They’re gonna see all of it—every sordid detail! *gasp* All this time I spent writing at being a lame-ass pretend wrestler on the Internet, instead of focusing on being a super cool wrestler in real life like Delikado’s been! Poor, poor Oda Kiled, cut down before his prime and bisexual storyline/romance on Twitter! O woe! O terrible woe! O—

Ewan Jakeway: Really? It’s been five freaking minutes! What have you done to the outside of my apartment?!

Pull back to reveal Ewan Jakeway, another former Delikado lackey, standing in the open doorway of the apartment. Meanwhile, we see the snow is not only accumulating just on this specific porch, but it’s being manually aimed there by a truck in the street through some kind of modified hose. Delikado shrugs and looks away.

Delikado: Dunno. He just showed up and started blasting out of nowhere. Like, no reason or nothing. And here I thought he was a good boy…

Ewan Jakeway: [to truck driver] Hey, you! Stop that! Stop that and leave immediately or I’m calling the cops!

Truck Driver: Whoa, chief, that old Mexican guy called and paid me to come spray my load….*achoo* of snow. I got a business to run, ain’t no need to call police!

Delikado flashes the driver a dirty look before he stops spraying snow and drives off. Jakeway sighs as he looks over his soaking apartment front and then down at Deli.

Ewan Jakeway: She doesn’t want to see you, Delikado. Heck, *I* don’t want to see you, and I *was* you at one point!

Delikado: *rolling eyes* Pfft, yeah, let’s being up THAT non-canon, went nowhere plotline nobody knows or cares about, get people REAL excited……. Anyway, we gotta talk, Ewan, otherwise the world is doomed! DOOMED!

Ewan Jakeway: What the crap did you do NOW, you imbecilic Cuban? Besides go overboard in Just For Men and tanning, apparently.

Delikado: It’s a complicated tale, so just let Deli in so he can relate it and also check today’s newspaper Sudoku. Please, Delikado’s DESPERATE…!

Sofia suddenly appears looking over Jakeway’s shoulder.

Sofia Monzón: Let him in.

Ewan gives her a curious look, but a determined nod from Sofia causes him to relent and open his door for Deli. The Cuban crawls inside and we do that transition where all the necessary information we as the audience already know is presented to characters who need to know said-information. We’re now in the living room of the apartment with Sofia sitting, Ewan standing, and Delikado propped up against an ottoman. Jakeway rubs his temples trying to wrap his mind around the latest shenanigans brought into his life by Delikado.

Ewan Jakeway: And you did all of that for an early bird special…that you didn’t even eat?

Delikado: *nodding proudly* Yes. Yes I did.

Ewan Jakeway: That is…you just….I don’t….no words.

Delikado: Delikado’s art typically speaks for itself, so luckily you don’t have to.

Ewan Jakeway: I know all about your “art”. Your personified apple-man STILL calls every Christmas to tell me in graphic detail about when he ate the head of that Russian. *shudder* But, uh, you said that the world was “doomed” before. How does your oldness doom the rest of us?

Delikado: Are you kidding? “Old Man Delikado?” That’s an OxyContinmoron if ever there was one! I’m about high-flying youth, presentable vigor, and baby-bottom smooth skin billionaires want to fondle! This—

Delikado pulls on his turkey neck. He flaps his under-arm flab like a bat.

Delikado: The world will have to put a rocket launcher up its ass and pull the trigger until people literally can’t make explosions anymore if THIS Delikado is all there is! Chicks don’t want to bang this! Drug dealers don’t want to sell to grandpa! And the only billionaire that might fondle this Crypt Keeper is Zuckerberg! Seen his woman? He likes ‘em weird-looking.

Ewan Jakeway: I dunno about that last one, but I could probably cite some references to the contrary. The world’s gotten pretty tolerant lately. Well, kind of…

Delikado: Eff tolerance! Delikado wants his problems solved with extreme prejudice!

Ewan Jakeway: What else is new…?

Delikado: Delikado will crawl over there and 401-K-O your punkass, Jakeway!

Ewan Jakeway: You don’t even know what a 401 (k) IS, do you?! You just made that remark and hoped it worked!

Delikado: Don’t throw facts at me! I’m your elder, after all, thus I know ALL the facts in factdom!

Ewan Jakeway: Well I hope you enjoy being my elder, because it seems you’ll be that way for a loooooooo—

Sofia Monzón: ENOUGH!!

Sofia’s resounding shout silences both men in their bickering. She seems to notice a sound off-screen and sighs in irritation.

Sofia Monzón: [nodding to Ewan] Go check him.

Jakeway walks out of the room, leaving Deli and Sofia face-to-face yet again. She leans back in her chair and addresses the old man before her like he’s still a child.

Sofia Monzón: What do you want? I’ve heard your sob story, another plotline in the “comedy Odyssey” that is your existence, but what you want me to do about it exactly I’ve yet to learn.

Delikado: Delikado’s gotta get back in the game. 100 wins and—

Sofia Monzón: Why should I?

Delikado: Ehhhhhhhhhh…

Sofia Monzón: Why should I get you into FGA, hell, back into wrestling at all? Why should I manage you?

Delikado: Uhhhhhhh, can Deli buy a vowel? How about for funzies?

Sofia Monzón: So that’s it? No honesty, no plain speech to inspire, just stupid kid games and jokes? I don’t care for you anymore, Delikado. No love, no liking, even my simply tolerating you sitting in my home right now is being pushed to the limit. You could die of your predicament right in front of me, at this very second, and I’d merely feel inclined to dump you out for Monday’s garbageman to collect. No ceremony, no hesitation to think back fondly on what was or even “might’ve been.”

Delikado: Cold, braaaah. Nah, not just cold, you got solid ice in your veins for me, and THAT’S why we always worked well! We UNDERSTAND each other on a level nobody else can! Delikado’s fire, your ice, we was Game of Thrones before it was even the dragon porn! You want reasons? You just presented them yourself!

Sofia continues to sit back in her chair, pondering for a few moments, before she slowly leans forward, a cruel mercilessness crossing her features.

Sofia Monzón: I’ll tell you what. Maybe if you PLEAD for my help, if you GROVEL, utterly weep and wail and dribble all over yourself like a worn-out MUTT, I’ll give it a moment of consideration. You’re an old man, a feeble, helpless old man looking near death, so let’s hear a deathbed confession.

Delikado begins to look nervous, like he regrets coming here now.

Delikado: ….Heh, heh. Y’know, Delikado DOES have Deli Tee Vee syndication money stored in a bank someplace. It’s all yours if--

Sofia Monzón: I don’t want your goddamn blood money. If you want me to even possibly be your manager again, this is my price: beg.

Delikado: Awww, c’mon, Sofia, that’s going too far. Look, there might be some tropical island contracts in Deli’s vault too. With indigenous peoples you can use and abuse! So why don’t we just go rob that bank, kill every man, woman, and child between us and the cash, and you—

Sofia Monzón: Beg. And I want you to mean it. Every. Last. Word.

Delikado: …………………………Fine. ………….*inhale* …………………………………….Do it.

Sofia’s eyes lift a bit in both mild shock, but also a lack of shock.

Sofia Monzón: Excuse me?

Delikado: *cough* Hang on, just…Delikado’s not used to this……….lemme try again………..*deep inhale*……………Ple—do it! Heh…what…..plea *hacking cough* BIiIiIiIiIiIiIitch pleas—OH GOD *more hacking coughs* Delikado’s be--*falls over coughing*

Delikado continues with this apparent attempt to beg as Sofia has demanded, but each time he’s practically paralyzed by a coughing spell as well as a type of Tourette’s that turns begging into a demand. It reaches a point where Ewan returns, holding something wrapped in a blanket in his arms, looking concerned by what he’s witnessing. Sofia, meanwhile, looks pissed as all get-out at this pitiful scene. She rises up out of her chair, more or less seething as Delikado coughs and dry heaves on her floor.

Sofia Monzón: *scowling* You agonizing prick, you won’t even PRETEND to have an ounce of humanity!

Ewan Jakeway: Honey, please, just let it go…

Sofia snaps her head up with a mildly crazed look in her eyes.

Sofia Monzón: No, Ewan!! Among all the other shit he’s put me through, this douchebag kicked me off a building and then buried me under a billboard! I need this…

Delikado: *cough* Pleas—OFF YOUR ASS AND HELP*dry heaving*

Delikado rolls over and happens to tilt his head toward Jakeway. He then sees that Ewan is holding a baby in his arms, a dark-haired baby boy. For a moment, he pauses at the sight, and then, with spittle oozing onto the ground, he turns back to Sofia, who realizes he’s seen her son. She continues to stand in refusing to back down from her demand.

Delikado: *gasp* …….Please? BLARGH!!!

Delikado promptly vomits up about a cup and a half’s worth of blood before falling over and whimpering pathetically.

Delikado: *gags* That’s it…I can’t do it anymore….I don’t know how to be--*more coughing*…the be--*dry heave*…… the “b-word”. And even if Delikado did know, *spits blood* it’s literally killing me right now!

Sofia inhales deeply, then exhales in begrudging acceptance.

Sofia Monzón: Then get the fuck out of my apartment.

Cut to Delikado being escorted out by Jakeway, with Sofia behind him practically glaring daggers.

Ewan Jakeway: Anything for the road, Deli?

Delikado: Alcohol will do, rum and cocaine to be exact.

Ewan Jakeway: Don’t you mean—

Delikado: Noooooooooooooooope.

Ewan Jakeway: ….I’ll just get you a bottled water.

Jakeway goes inside, leaving Sofia and Deli alone yet again. As the Cuban crawls down the stairs, Sofia stands there with arms crossed.

Delikado: You know you wanna do this again, Sofia. Think of it like a reunion tour for Lynyrd Skynyrd, only the plane crash was instead turning old from a magical fountain!

Sofia says nothing. She doesn’t even look at Deli, but rather anywhere else. Delikado frowns.

Delikado: Sofi-fi, baby, c’moooooon. Do you REALLY want this to be how our relationship goes out? I mean, FGA could be the start of something new. We could retcon everything! That’s hip right now. “AF” as the kids say. Now add a “G” and what do you have then? …AFG. From there you just get a dyslexic dude to muddy the letters around a bit, and it’s FGA! Seriously, if that isn’t fate, Delikado doesn’t know what is!

She continues to ignore the inane ramblings. At that moment, Ewan returns with an open bottle of water.

Ewan Jakeway: Here’s your water, Deli. I hope you like Evi—whoooa!

Ewan suddenly stumbles going down the stairs, and the bottle of water splashes all over Delikado. The Cuban begins to spaz out, clawing the air and gasping like he’s running out of breath.

Ewan Jakeway: Holy crap!

Sofia Monzón: What’d you do to that water?

Ewan Jakeway: Nothing!

Out of nowhere, a woman in a science robe runs up and begins to check Delikado.

Scientist: Stand back, woman scientist taking a walk is here to analyze the situation! Mhmm, mhmm, it’s just as I thought. This man has been exposed to Evian water that has aged him well beyond the bounds of normality!

Ewan Jakeway: That’s the water brand I was just about to give him.

Scientist: Mhmm, mhmm. My analysis: foolish, for you see, further exposure from your kind gesture has now sapped the last bit of energy away from this man, to the point he has essentially lost all refined motor skills including crawling on the ground and even the ability to speak. He’s little better than a newborn. If nothing’s done, he’ll lie here until the hyenas pick him off.

Ewan Jakeway: There aren’t hyenas in the States…

Scientist: I’m a person scientist, not Steve Irwin. My point is, this man is at the mercy of the elements right now.

Ewan has begun to examine Deli up close too.

Ewan Jakeway: Yeah, I think he’s done. I’m not getting anything out of him.

Sofia watches as Delikado has begun to curl up like a spider sprayed with Raid on the bathroom floor. He isn’t even speaking now, looking like he’s in a stupor. A grim sense of satisfaction passes Sofia’s hardened face.

Sofia Monzón: Good.

Ewan Jakeway: Sofia…

Sofia Monzón: Don’t “Sofia…” me. It’s not perfect justice, but it’ll have to do for that—

She abruptly stops in mid-sentence, looking as if something is catching her full attention. Staring at the crunched-up Cuban, Sofia approaches him and kneels down toward his head. Delikado’s mouth moves ever so slightly, though no sound apparently escapes him. Several seconds of silence pass. Finally, Sofia stands up, looking defeated when moments ago she was appearing triumphant.

Sofia Monzón: Damn you, Delikado. Goddamn you.

Ewan Jakeway: What’s up?

Sofia Monzón: He spoke to me. Or rather, I could hear him like he was speaking directly at me. Shouting, really.

Scientist: Mhmm, mhmm, I see. You must have a special connection with this man. You can understand him in his catatonic state when no one else can. Truly a miracle of science!

Ewan Jakeway: What’d he say?

Sofia hesitates, before closing her eyes and sighing.

Sofia Monzón: It doesn’t matter. We have to help him. We have to take him to FGA, back to the ring like he wanted.

Ewan Jakeway: Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?! But Sofia, you were just about ready to let the American hyenas get him, now you’re talking about managing him again?

Sofia Monzón: I know, I know, I just….I have to be BETTER than him, Ewan. Delikado would leave any of us to rot out here, and perhaps common sense would say we should do the same, but I…*sigh* I can’t let myself turn into him. I’ll manage him, for as long as it takes, whether it’s at FGA or any other company, if it means I can keep even a shred of my humanity. You don’t have to go, Ewan. The truth is it’s between me and Delikado anyway. There’s a reason only I can understand him like this. Stay here and take care of our son.

Ewan Jakeway: Heck no. We go together. We’ll let our little guy see the business where his parents came from!

Sofia Monzón: Oh yes, because that turned out *so* well for us.

She gives him a half-joking smile before they both look back on their newly declared (or re-declared?) client in his drooling half-coma on the pavement.

Ewan Jakeway: Jesus H.

Sofia Monzón: Yeah. We’re going to need to find a more presentable way to lug him around.

Ewan Jakeway: Chain him to the back of his Smart Car Monster Truck and drag him to the ring?

Sofia suddenly leans down to Delikado, to listen to his “words.”

Sofia Monzón: Well, he has some choice words for you on that one, but of course he’s also thrown out a suggestion for this particular problem.



We smash-cut to a wheel spinning. The camera pulls back in an epic slow-motion tracking shot of Delikado being pushed by Sofia in a Game of Thrones-inspired wheelchair while Ewan walks to the right. They head to a building with the Frontier Grappling Arts banner fluttering in the wind.

~It would take some hardline wrangling and contract negotiating, but Sofia would prove her managing skills had never left her as she acquired Delikado his new wrestling contract. The team was back together, their sights set on the future that was open before them. And so, in FGA the shenanigans begin…again. This is--~

DELIKADO
- FOREVER -

Cut to black/credits.