AfterBurn for Vertigo E62

[FGA Office]

Catch up with your favorite FGA grapplers on AfterBurn! Get their thoughts on the latest, their opponents, and other backstage happenings right here, only on AxxessNet!

[Seth Iser]

The locker room can either be a welcoming place or the place with the most hostile intentions depending on the mood of the wrestlers and which specific wrestlers happen to be in there at that given time. Right now with Seth slouched back grunting in pain not freely moving his arm around and his left knee with ice around it without his usual brace he might not be the most welcoming person. Rather than his usual suit he’s hiding his face a bit with a hood and retracting a bit on his hoodie even though what you can make out is a frown. But Moretti next to him has the cat that ate the canary type of grin next to him. He’s even jiving along using the cane as support.

Vincent Moretti: That’s what we’re talking about! One down.

Seth Iser: Many more to go…

Vincent Moretti: Yeah! I love it when a plan comes together.

The two exchange a left handed high five after that statement as Spencer Burke cautiously enters. Moretti glances at him and scoffs with a chuckle while Iser just has a sneer as he puts down the hood and the glare is on.

Spencer Burke: Well Seth...congratulations.

Vincent Moretti: Say that with more enthusiasm damn it! It’s a good day! It’s one that should be CELEBRATED deep into the Appalachian Mountains and to Vegas and everywhere in between! And other places too! Except this piss hole pass over state. Rhode Island sucks...in fact if I stay here for too much longer I might get ill...

Vincent lets out a cough after saying the name of the state in an exaggerated manner. Spencer keeps his best professional face as a little sweat comes from his forehead but even he can’t fully hide the fact that he’s agitated by Moretti’s presence.

Spencer Burke: Like I said...congratulations on your mild upset victory ove---

Seth Iser: Upset?

Seth’s tone is a little wounded when he repeats the word Spencer said as he ends up standing up as quickly as he can after he expended so much energy in the ring and even a tired Iser is quite an intimidating one when he’s dwarfing over an interview person like Spencer. Moretti just has an arrogant smirk as Seth backs Spencer up a couple of steps before reaching with his left hand to grab the microphone.

Seth Iser: You make one more stupid statement like that again and I’m revoking your interview privileges, boy. You might think it’s an upset in your bubble but I’m just as qualified as any wrestler on the damn planet and I proved that when I dropped Izzy on her head. I don’t give a damn if she was on the main event of the biggest show of the year at one point or made it to the pinnacle of this company. That might make her as qualified as anyone but I’m as qualified as anyone to BEAT someone like her. And I damn sure can beat anybody in this locker room on any given night. Am I understood on that?

Spencer Burke: Y-yes sir.

Seth Iser: Don’t you dare stutter. Do you understand, boy?

Spencer Burke: Yes sir.

Seth Iser: Good. And while we’re on the topic of Izzy...she should know it isn’t personal. Whatever it takes and that she needs to focus on her own pursuits and if she wants a receipt against me...ask for a match against me later. Now ask your damn question, Spencer.

Spencer pauses for a moment feeling that glare from an obviously agitated 6’5 man but wipes the sweat from his brow and presses on while Vincent just seems amused by this.

Spencer Burke: You have Dom Harter next...it seems that you get exactly what you wanted.

Seth Iser: It’s been coming up like that a bit of late hasn’t it? Me getting what I want. Seems he’s got to deal with with Josh Kennedy first and knowing Josh’s career...world knows he has little regard for himself at times and even less for others when that bell rings. An admirable quality in the code.

Spencer cocks an eyebrow.

Vincent Moretti: You seem confused.

Spencer Burke: The code?

Seth Iser: Yes. It’s dishonorable to not do what it takes if that’s what you feel you must do. That’s what blowhearts like Fujiko don’t understand. But that’s topic for another day as they say...

Seth’s face darkens mentioning said rival’s name for a moment before he shakes his head directly at Spencer. Moretti proceeds to annoy Spencer further by poking him now.

Seth Iser: But yes...Dom’ll more than survive that encounter. Hell, I’ll go on the record and say he’ll win. He isn’t just this tournament away from the Golden Crown after all. But unfortunately for the Tenacious Little Bastard...he’ll have to wait another year to fully erase his memories of this tournament because he’s drawn someone who quite frankly doesn’t give a damn about his pursuits of history in this company because I’m pursuing the final piece of my legacy. I told him to his face I don’t care. Same with Ricky. Or anyone else for that matter. Personally it’s all the better to beat the people those in the audience THINK will be better because I’m just a cocky motherf-bleep-er in that regard but when you've been as good as I am and beaten the people that I have over my long career and run out certain ungrateful bastards you're allowed to be a little bit cocky about it.

Vincent lets out a hearty laugh at this that makes Spencer flinch.

Seth Iser: Professionally though...it could be a reincarnation of mud or Dickie freak’n Harter...as long as I win this whole damn thing. The accolade means the same on that front, the pay is the same, and the prestige for winning it is the same. Anyone in this tournament is worth beating and each of their scalps have their own value. And any one else’s issues about that or their other issues with other people on the roster...I don’t care.

Vincent Moretti: The little tift between Izzy and Fujiko that's being tested further by both their upcoming title match and their different results tonight?

Seth Iser: I don’t care.

Vincent Moretti: The scheming of the Good Guys and how this could also test their friendship at the end of the day?

Seth Iser: I don’t care.

Vincent Moretti: Whatever lunatic from Flashpoint who thinks they’re going to live out their dreams in this tournament?

Seth Iser: I don’t care.

Vincent Moretti: The return of Tyler f’n Storm, the bane of my existence?

Seth Iser: I. Don’t. Care.

Vincent shoots Seth a wounded look of his own for a moment just blinking for a moment.

Vincent Moretti: Well damn…but...I care on that one. HE BROKE MY ANKLE!

Spencer holds his ear when Vincent suddenly shrieks that as Moretti obviously forgot his indoor voice.

Seth Iser: In regards to the tournament...ultimately I don’t give a damn about anyone else in it and what they might be going through. I’ve underachieved given my ability in my career...especially early on because I couldn’t get out of my own damn way. Now with what limited time I have left...I’m going to do whatever it takes to get to where I want to go and if that means proving to Dom Harter that someone DOES actually hit harder in that ring...and getting my hand raised as proof of it then that’s all the more icing on the cake to prove my point. The Frontier Lion’s Cup will be mine...by any means necessary.

Spencer Burke: Well thank you for that…an--

Seth Iser: And this interview is over. Be gone and stay gone. I’m going to go home and enjoy time with my pre-ance and my daughter. The sooner I can get out of this damn arena the better.
And their company is way better than all of these idiots booing, hissing and spitting on me.

Vincent Moretti: Yeah. Rhode Island sucks...and so do you Spence.

Spencer cringes a bit at Seth’s barking and insults and starts to retreat as Seth stretches out his right arm a little bit that was targeted throughout in the Izzy match with a wince and his ever apparent limp is still there as he reaches for his bags.

[spiro]

Kol is seen leaving his locker room, a smirk on his face as he’s now dressed in all black, from his jeans to his tee to the leather jacket. He notices the cameras and quickly rolls his eyes before looking past the camera to the cameraman.

KOL: You’ve got questions and I might have answers.

CAMERAMAN: Why didn’t you go through with your planned attack on Jimmy Page?

The New Yorker chuckles.

KOL: It wasn’t the right time. You see, unlike most of the people who have faced Jimmy Page before, I can choose when to strike. I’m not afraid like some of his other opponents and I’m certainly not looking past the dangers he presents.

CAMERAMAN: Are you afraid that if you try to take this too far, Jimmy Page might just go more over the top?

Kol blinks a few times before he replies.

KOL: Who do you exactly think Jimmy Page is facing at Final Frontier, Kol or Colton Sterling? Colton Sterling was a nice kid. Someone who actually gave a fuck about things besides himself. He had a girlfriend he cared a lot about. Adopted parents that he loved as much as his biological parents. Hell, he even had a dog at one point. Kol?

That same smirk that was on the number one contender’s face reappears, this time much bigger.

KOL: Well, I don’t give a damn about anything. I have no girlfriend for him to target. I have no siblings for him to target, like he did to Emily Carter when his problems with Chandler Scott rose up. I have no family that needs protecting from him. I don’t even have that damn dog at this point. I only have to worry about myself and that’s just perfect.

CAMERAMAN: But Jimmy Page is a changed man.

A loud laugh bursts out of Kol, it echoing throughout the halls of the arena as he begins shaking his head.

KOL: You truly don’t believe that, do you? So many men and women say that they have changed but how many actually stick around to that change? Evan Envi seemed to be turning into the nice guy people were hoping for, but then he went ahead and turned back into the little annoying twat you all hate that he is. HENNY tried being the exact opposite of himself a few years back and he knew that he couldn’t live the lie.

CAMERAMAN: Are you saying Jimmy Page is just faking right now?

KOL: I think Jimmy Page is a great actor. If he didn’t have that face, he could land some roles for his portrayal of the “good” Jimmy Page. But you’re a fool if you believe that he’s nothing more than a fake. That this is all just one big facade and that as soon as something goes wrong, he will show his true colors again. It’ll all begin when I take that World championship away from him. You’ll see Jimmy Page go right back to his old ways the moment he realizes that his redemption story is over quicker than he expected.

Kol smiles.

KOL: And until then, I’m going to make sure that he knows exactly who he is dealing with.

With that, the number one contender takes his leave, exiting the arena.

[Deleted]

The cameraman follows Jessie Pederson as she pads her way down the hallway. There’s a door just ahead on the left with its door slightly ajar; she knows which room it is, and after hearing the rumours that have been floating around these last few hours. Sure enough, there on the edge of the exam table is Annie Zellor. Still dressed in her ring attire, minus the boots, she has her head bowed, her hands clasped to the edge of the table, as she exhales deeply.

Dom Harter: You’ll get through this…

Nudging the door open slightly more, Jessie sees the man to whom the voice belongs. The Tenacious Little Bastard is standing in front of his girlfriend, also dressed in his ring attire plus his ‘Harter’s Angels’ t-shirt and Santa hat, as he leans forward to give her a kiss on the forehead.

Dom Harter: …and you’ll emerge out the other side even stronger than before.

Annie Zellor: You’ve gotta say that though.

Dom Harter: Oh come on, we both know that’s not true. I could be a dick.

The joke is enough to earn a stifled laugh from Annie as she raises her head up to meet Dom’s gaze. Her eyes appear glazed as she has trouble focusing on the man before her, even as Dom pushes the hair from in front of her face.

Annie Zellor: Could be.

Annie repeats the words in jest.

Dom Harter: You took Jimmy Page to his limit tonight, so don’t let this get you down. You’re going to come back from this – you’re going to be better than ever, and you’re going to show everybody here why you’re–

He stops suddenly as they become aware of Jessie and the cameraman. Both Dom and Annie turn towards the doorway, where Jessie and the cameraman are standing, waiting for them. But only Dom steps away from the table, almost pushing the two out of the medical exam room before closing the door after himself.

Dom Harter: You don’t announce yourself anymore, Jessie?

The question itself seems harmless, if not for the fake smile on Dom’s smile. But Jessie either doesn’t notice or doesn’t mind as she just apologises for the intrusion.

Jessie Pederson: Sorr-uh, bygones.

Dom narrows his eyes at her.

Jessie Pederson: I was just hoping to get an update on Annie, if possible.

Dom Harter: Suspected concussion. But she’s in no shape to be giving an interview right now. You understand.

Jessie Pederson: Oh yeah, absolutely … What about you?

She asks, seemingly to Dom’s surprise.

Dom Harter: What about me?

Jessie Pederson: Uh, are you able to answer a few questions?

He just shrugs his shoulders before folding his arms across his chest.

Dom Harter: Spencer usually does these. Where’s Spencer?

Jessie Pederson: He’s–

Dom laughs harshly in Jessie’s face, interrupting her before she can really start answering his question. And she does not look amused.

Dom Harter: Just kidding.

Jessie Pederson: Very funny, Dom. But we saw you several times throughout the show. Earlier you, Seth Iser, and Ricky Valero–

Dom Harter: So misguided.

Jessie Pederson: –seemed to be looking forward to the Frontier Lions Cup. And we saw both Seth Iser and yourself win your qualifying matches tonight. Firstly, how do you feel about that match against Maritza Diaz? Was she a challenge enough for you?

Dom Harter: Obviously not.

He states, bluntly, shrugging his shoulders.

Dom Harter: She tried. She wanted it. She wanted to beat Dom Harter; she wanted to be the woman who cost me the chance to be in the Frontier Lions Cup this year. But Maritza Diaz didn’t want it enough, Jessie. Maybe if she was against a lesser opponent, maybe it might’ve worked. But not against me.

His bravado doesn’t do justice to the challenge Maritza Diaz posed to him tonight, or that close call at the end. But Dom just plasters that familiar crooked grin on his face as he waits for the next question.

Jessie Pederson: Well, we know who your opponent is in the next round–

Dom Harter: Vincent Moretti doing God’s work.

Jessie Pederson: –I take it you’re pleased with the draw then.

Dom Harter: Sure. Seth Iser and I have some unfinished business.

Dom adjusts the Santa hat on his head, tilting it slightly to one side.

Dom Harter: He needs that tournament win to make up for his failing this year. To set him apart from the crowd – because he doesn’t want to be lost in the shuffle here in FGA. He doesn’t want to sit back and watch the likes of Evan Envi and Jimmy Page feud over that World title for the next six months, with Kol thrown in for some extra spice. And I can understand that. Maybe even respect it, like I respect that brass knucks shot that knocked Izzy the f*ck out tonight…

Dom shrugs his shoulders again.

Dom Harter: …but you know what? He’s picked the wrong time. The wrong moment. Should’ve gone for that battle royal victory instead, Seth.

Jessie Pederson: You two tussled in that battle royal–

Dom Harter: Is he still pissed about the low blow?

Jessie nods her head.

Jessie Pederson: –I’d say so. And Ricky Valero made it known that he also wants to win the–

Dom Harter: And step out of Evan’s shadow.

Jessie Pederson: –Frontier Lions Cup. He’s got a qualifying match coming up against Lowri Moss, what do you think of his chances?

Dom Harter: Pass.

Jessie Pederson: Pardon me?

Dom Harter: Whoever wins, wins. I’ve got my own battle on the Anniversary Show, Jessie. If Ricky wants to step out of his best friend’s shadow, he can try. If Lowri wants to try and repeat her tournament performances like she’s done in the World Cup or She-1 Summit, she can try. Piper Lennon, Tyler Storm, or even my boy Fenrys! And Jae can beat the brakes off the sole Shootcamp survivor all she wants – for all our sakes! But I’ve got my eye on the prize.

Jessie Pederson: Your match against the former CWC World Champion, Josh Kennedy.

Dom Harter: That’s the one. And I’ve got my warm up under my belt now, Jessie. So before we get to the Frontier Lions Cup, and before I can secure my place as the second ever winner of the coveted Golden Crown…

That grin grows a fraction wider at the mention of the Golden Crown.

Dom Harter: …I’ve got a living legend to defeat. After my recent success aboard XWA On A Boat – where I beat a former Supreme Champion! Now I’ve got to go and face two of the best that XWA has to offer, and become the World TV Champion while I’m at it. I’ve got a date in the Big Apple. And so much more just on the horizon, Jessie. But when we get to Newark, New Jersey. And when the Anniversary Show rolls around. Josh Kennedy is going to give me what nobody else in FGA can. He’s going to give me that challenge I crave. He’s going to try and beat some sense into me. To humble me – but we both know I’m already the most humble man in pro wrestling! Right?

Jessie Pederson: …if you say so, Dom.

Dom Harter: Ask Stephy, she knows. Good honest woman that Stephy.

Jessie Pederson: …I’m sure she is.

Dom Harter: Trust me. Just like when I say Josh Kennedy is going to find out why they say Harter Hits Harder!

With that, Dom winks at Jessie before excusing himself. He re-enters the medical exam room behind him, closing the door with Jessie and the cameraman still on the outside. So they have no choice but to end the scene there.

[Delikado]

~Sofia Monzón and Ewan Jakeway and their handicapped Cuban client, Delikado, would spend their Thanksgiving break in and around New Jersey doing lots and lots of prep for Delikado’s wrestling return at the Seven Year Anniversary Show against Nate Bristow. At one point, they even “baptized” the centenarian in a ritual that was respectable, timely, and--~

Delikado, with an anchor tied to his wheelchair, is shoved into the Delaware River. He disappears under the waters and several seconds pass. Sofia casually eyes her watch, while Ewan looks a bit more apprehensive.

Ewan Jakeway: …Are you SURE this is what he asked for?

Sofia Monzón: Positive.

Ewan Jakeway: It’s just…he has no—

Sofia Monzón: Let it happen, Ewan. This is how Delikado wants to prepare. It’s like propaganda, psyching out naysayers who think he won’t go all-out in FGA. Besides all that, this is REALLY therapeutic for me….Aaaaaaaand time….I guess.

Sofia nods to a truck that now comes on-screen with a chain dipped into the Delaware River. The vehicle pulls away and Delikado, still situated in his wheelchair, is jerked out onto land, covered in sewage and one or two creatures. Sofia cocks her eyebrow as she glances the dripping Cuban over.

Sofia Monzón: Happy?

Delikado gives no response as a fish flops about in his lap. Transition to that same fish now being cooked up on a grill as some kind of party is in motion, full of random people generally enjoying themselves and celebrating, though what they celebrate is unclear.

~From here, Sofia and Ewan were allowed to give themselves over to the delights of a “wrestling rager party” as Delikado would call it. It begs the question how were they supposed to do their managerial duties if their particular attentions were diverted elsewhere. How to train when you’re partying? Yet, Delikado’s will seemed to dictate this was how things were to be done as his return to the squared circle neared. Some sneers were heard from people pissed about the locker-room/parking lot destruction, or “merger”, while others declared the Seven Year Anniversary Show was about the people of the past who had made FGA, not some nook who just arrived looking like he belonged in the 1700s past. Still, the wrestling world would sit in curiosity all the same, and as the clock wound down for the big show, Delikado would give some account of the style of his new life when held up against Nate Bristow, part of the infamous Bristow & Barnes.~

We hover now on Delikado as he sits in his wheelchair, surrounded by sleazy-looking women clearly paid to dance around and probably steal shit as the night comes to an end. Cue a voice-over.

Delikado: <voice-over> Hey there, Delikado here doing some voice work! Yeah, we’re getting technical now, new age Deli skills in old age Deli body! Do people do voice-overs anymore? Hell, sure they do—they do NOW anywho. Also, maybe you’re wondering HOW Delikado can do this voicing stuff if he’s supposed to be crippled to the point he’s stone cold silent. Well, story time, when Delikado needed an assist, he asked the plants, but they didn’t know how to help your boy. Then Delikado asked the rocks, and wouldn’t you know it: the rocks came through with special wi-fi that connects to Delikado’s temples and puts his wonderful thoughts into sound over a Youtube video of my equally wonderful face.

Yup. That’s exactly how this is happening right now. So take that out of your “OMG PLOTHOLE HAXXXERS!” tally box, and put it under the “OMG Awesome and Super Logical Work, Deli!” tally box.

Anybut, *cracking knuckles sound* showtime Terry Marvin. Here I am, on the precipice of a return unlike anything even *I* could have anticipated. And how does Delikado greet such an experience? He continues his life just as gay as he’s ever done before, duh!

…

“Gay” as in “happy”, just to be clear.

And it’s on a generous scale rather more generous than generous might warrant, but screw it, Delikado’s never been one to obey warrants. This is the Anniversary Show for FGA! This is me, smack dab in the middle of the card surrounded by Frontier Lions Cup Qualifiers. I see them all, those competitors for the eventual gold, but do they see me? Doubt it. Do Storm or Valero or Powers hear Delikado? Not now they don’t. And yet, let’s go back to what I just said: my match cuts RIGHT down the MIDDLE of the Frontier Cup. I mean, Delikado is listening, and that sounds like the world is saying “Yo, Deli, only YOU can possibly break up the action of these Qualifiers for a title!” Well….okay, me and the man they’ve situated opposite Mister Cuba: Bristow. All the same, this is a moment to LIVE IT UP! Fortified by everything I’ve done before in the ring, fortified by everything I’ve got to do NOW to break this “old fart” curse that’s been cruelly inflicted upon my sexy, sexy being, I’ve got to entertain battle with Nate Bristow like I’ve got to discriminate against every other athlete on Vertigo and Flashpoint, hell every man, woman, and shade of grey thingamabob that’s walked through the doors in Frontier Grappling Art’s history!

It’s gotta be a magical moment between Nate and myself, even if to CASUALS such a match doesn’t seem an attention-grabber. I’ve gotta recapture that “overnight sensation” attribute I wielded so in…CREDIBLY….over twelve years ago in my debut. And why is that so, person engaged in Delikado’s lovely voice-over work?

………Hold on, there’s someone ringing this guy’s doorbell. Pause that thought, think of it like a dramatic….thing….

*shuffling sounds*

*door opening*

Yes, this is the Callahan residence. Yes, I’m Michael. Why yes, I DID order that pizza, thank you! No, I’m not just saying yes to everything hoping to qualify myself for that food you’re offering me. Look, do you want a tip or not? …That’s what I thought. You should apologize for making me feel frightened. I’m an old man! I’m foreign and don’t totally understand your ways! Be more PC, bro! …Apology accepted. Can Delikado have his hamburger now—pizza, right, whatever. Oh, and I don’t believe in tipping. Goes with that whole “foreign” thing I mentioned before. Byyyyye!

*door slams*

*more shuffling*

Wooooooooooooooooooo, dis sumbitch got PIZZA! And who says voice-over work doesn’t compare to actual on-screen presence?! *chewing* Rightnomnomnomnom, what was Delikado saying…? Oh right, why I gotta be the one to make like a star and shine brightly as can be on my first night in the ring against Bristow? Because at this point, though Delikado himself knows different, this is something like making his wrestling debut all over again. So many peeps are dead and gone who knew what Delikado could do, some of them by my own hand and feet

*awkward chewing*…..okay, maybe quite a nifty hundred-or-so barrels full….*swallows*

Nobody gonna show me kindness anymore! Hell, even Evan Envi, another Frontier Cup Qualifier hopeful, Good Guy, and former champion of the WORLD, won’t return Delikado’s calls! Evan Envi, one half of Envikado; Evan Envi, my buddy, isn’t here enjoying this meaty pizza with me right now. Ever since that “zoo incident” or whatever—that wasn’t me eating those endangered animals, Evan, honest! It was a clone! A cloooooooooooooooone! Make sense now? Well, it should, and that’s precisely the point: what SHOULD have been the case long ago, is not so anymore. What should have made sense and been the logical turning point in my career, is over and OUT! I’m a new guy, to virtually every eye in this joint. Not just that, to eyes not just in Bristow’s head or Evan’s head, or….other heads…Delikado is an old piece of SHIT. Events have transpired, Bristow—and I do wish to address you a bit more one-to-one now—events have altered Delikado’s world, darkened a previously shining career that was mine.

But I *AM* strengthened by it all the same, for only Delikado can get turned into an old fart by an “old fart” Fountain of Old curse, and end up back in the business ready to duke it out with anybody and everybody who steps across from him in combat. I have to be, no ifs, ands, or buts--

*old man fart*

….About it. My life and very character hang in the balance through each and every match. Down the road, I might engage Evan again in a team, or I might engage in feudal quarrels with the fiercest and most reckless partisanship against BOTH halves of Bristow & Barnes, to incur pleasure and displeasure from-and-against Champions and contenders alike—a great personage like I intend to become again can only ask of such a destiny—but ultimately it’s about the outcome each night. I “de-age” with every win. Until I reach a satisfactory point, the fashionable wrestling world will not smile on Delikado again, and he’ll only be able to speak to you all through voice-over, as his current fifty-billion-year-old conditions has left him mute. *noisy chewing*

For now, I have an opponent—not an enemy or even a rival per se—but an opponent in Nate who, let’s face it, in his vicious and established ways, could be quite anxious to humiliate me. He is a sensitive and prideful boy who can magnify Delikado’s words into an absolute Ice Age coldness or cockiness worthy to be labeled an affront! But wrestling will not be made odious to me, Nate! For over twelve years Delikado has competed and established a breach in the system that will not be repaired and closed off by you at FGA’s Seven Year Anniversary! I have been away from my people to the point they are dead and gone—again, through my part blessdemfatherfortheyblahblahblah—and NOW a NEW generation of people will be watching on the 28th, even if only for a short time between Frontier Qualifiers—how the fates still speak their truths, though. It’s an interval that will transform my originally genial and gay…

*sigh*

“Gay” as in “happy”. Once again, just gotta clear that up because SOMEBODY will hear Delikado say “gay” and giggle immaturely….*snicker* *giggle* *snort* Wut?

But yes, my nature will not be contracted into something bitter and…SERIOUS…yuck….through harsh contempt for what the world has done to me in this curse, and for what this unknown batch of pro wrestlers will work to mold me into. Delikado’s society does not answer to the likes of yours, Nate, or any others for that matter! Rank and authority have, and will remain even now, Delikado’s plaything as this adventure unfolds! And if being so blunt proves “unfortunate” to the “powers that be”, and therefore for Delikado, then all the power TO Delikado! If the characteristics I proudly flaunt out there cost me a match or a title shot, if they hinder and injure the GREAT SAGA Delikado undertakes, keeping me older longer than need be, then…well…<BEEP> it that will be Delikado’s stimulus—his sexy, sexy, all lubed up and ready to BANG, stimulus! Because if Delikado cannot have it his way—trademarked—then I would risk wasting another twelve years in trivial and poor man’s crap shenanigans, and then I might as well be you, Nate, silly boy of a fashion.

No. Heheheh…no. Without the “craziness” that is my curse or my misfortune or any other dictionary’s dictation of WORDS holding its grip on Delikado’s career and life, I can’t be ME, and if I can’t be ME, then Delikado’s not the wrestler he wants FGA to see for the first time. He’s not the wrestler he wants wrestling to remember. He’s not the popularity-accumulating sympathizer of those who want to be courageously daring and outlandish. He’s not the one-day-maybe champion of the business people will look to and think upon when they’re asked who the freest son-of-a-bitch in the entire GALAXY happens to be!

I AM DELIKADO! AND MY YOUTH BEGINS AGAIN!!!

*sound of a door opening*

Spencer Burke: --And I was telling him—WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?!

Delikado: O SHEET! EWAN, WHEEL US OUT OF HERE! EWAN!! NOW, DAMN IT!!!AND FOR GOD'S SAKE, DON'TCHU DARE LEAVE THAT PIZZA!!

*sounds of things crashing and people screaming*

Delikado sits in his wheelchair as the sound of the voice-over fades away to oblivion. The catatonic Cuban can only inhale and exhale deeply as the party continues to rage around him. In due course, however, he’ll be wheeled to Newark, to the Prudential Center, to the Seven Year Anniversary Show, and once his match with Nate Bristow begins, his body will “wake up” and the active Delikado of the past will re-emerge, ready to fulfill his debut and, hopefully, pull off the first win in his “de-aging campaign.” The scene fades to black on the Cuban’s weathered face, no doubt as these thoughts, among others as he eyes a random set of boobs, go through his crazy, crazy noodle.