Delikado and his managers can still be found idling about the arena backstage, looking a bit more peeved and slightly disheartened as a whole after the outcome of the bout against Bisley. Sofia eyes the Cuban, who must be going on about something telepathically.
……………
Sofia Monzón: Well, it’s not like this is your first go-round with a loss. If nothing else, though, at least we can promote you as someone who won’t be chased out of the company by Bisley like Shintaro Majima was. That gives you an edge Bisley can never take away, that Fujiko and Izzy have to respect as your tag match draws closer. I mean, you took a beating out there, old man, yet here you stand…well, sit. A lesser wrestler might need to take time off for how their leg was jerked around tonight—
………………………….
Sofia Monzón: “Or amputate it to replace with a golden ‘robo-leg’?!” What the—that’s a stupid idea, a stupid thing to say in general, so never say it again. What’s done is done. Mark Bisley is not our problem right now, so be an adult and put him aside—
*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!*The sound of an explosion outside causes Sofia and Ewan to glance in the direction of the parking lot.
Ewan Jakeway: What was that…?
A distraught voice is heard yelling off-screen from the same direction of the parking lot.
Distraught Voice: OH MY GOD, SOMEONE BLEW UP MY CAR!!! Why would someone do that to me, Mark Bisley?!
Sofia cocks her head in a “seriously?” fashion at her client. Delikado continues to sit lamely in his chair, though you can almost detect the slightest smirk of innocent denial. Ewan, meanwhile, looks off-screen toward all the commotion and then nonchalantly turns back to his friends.
Ewan Jakeway: I don’t think that’s the same Mark Bisley.
Distraught Voice: My livelihood is destroyed! Who would do this to poor Mark Bisley of the Internal Revenue Service?!
Ewan Jakeway: Oh, you see that? It was just the car belonging to Mark Bisley of the IRS that Delikado bombed! I guess the FGA has a few Mark Bisley’s hanging around. What a coincidence, haha!
………………………
Sofia Monzón: Stop. You got it out of your system and if it’ll help you sleep, we can say you defeated “A” Mark Bisley tonight and saved the FGA from the dreaded IRS. Everyone is eternally in your debt and wants to suck all your dick or whatever….
…..
Delikado must apparently be satisfied with this decision, and just like that everyone calmly goes about their business while Mark Bisley of the IRS can be heard sobbing off-camera.
Sofia Monzón: Anyway, it’s time to put aside this particular bungle and move on to the next one. Where the <BEEP> was Kent tonight?
Ewan shrugs.
Ewan Jakeway: Maybe she got caught up in some business venture? Something to help the team? Susan has a busy life--
Sofia Monzón: Bullshit. Her only business venture is to see how much <BEEP!>ing time she can waste and hold us back! THIS is supposed to be her <BEEP>ing life. If she’s supposed to be “helping the team” she should show her Botox-riddled face at ringside when she’s <BEEP>ing promoted as such, and when she continues to say she’ll be at ringside! Not that she’d be any <BEEP>ing help anyway, given the part she no-doubt played in losing your videotape earlier, but it’s the <BEEP>ing principal of <BEEP>ing being a <BEEP>ing tag team trying to win <BEEP>ing goddamn TEAM titles against super star teams like <BEEP>ing Fujiko Mine and <BEEP>ing Izzy Anders! <BEEP!>
Ewan Jakeway: H-Honey, please, you’ll have an aneurysm, or worse break the censors and make FX mad at us! You know they only put on the classiest and best of shows!
Sofia glares between the two of the men with icy determination as she utters the next sentence.
Sofia Monzón: If things don’t change immediately with her, Ewan, there WILL be a reckoning between Susan Kent and myself.
Ewan looks like he’s going to collapse onto his knees as he begs to his strong-willed better half.
Ewan Jakeway: Sofia, my love, my darling, please, please, please, a thousand and one PLEASES don’t let this grudge hurt the chances of our client and his partner in the title match!
Sofia Monzón: Oh, I won’t do anything to jeopardize Delikado; look at his past—hell, look at the fact he literally just blew up a car thinking it was owned by someone who won a simple wrestling match over him: he does enough to nearly capsize his own career on a daily basis.
……………………………….
Bitterly amused, the Spaniard crosses her arms across her chest and sits down in a nearby steel chair.
Sofia Monzón: Ahh yes, Evan Envi, another beacon of your past. Yeah, I’ve heard what he has to say, and strangely enough in all its “cryptic-ness” one word from him rings truer than your entire alliance with Kent has so far. Maybe he can be trusted, but maybe you’re just blinded by memories of EnviKado days. Either way, he does know about the threats we face, perhaps better than anyone we’ve crossed paths with so far in FGA. Even if he’s just using us to rid him of his enemies, there’s no particular reason we can’t use him to overcome the odds playing against us versus Fujiko and Izzy to secure the tag titles. I only wish we could trade Susan for him…
Ewan Jakeway: *strained groan* But doesn’t he seem a tad…villainous?
Sofia Monzón: Ewan, I managed Delikado at a time when he called himself “Boss Delikado” and waged a one-man “camPAIN” of ruthlessness and destruction against anyone who even blinked wrong. I was on the front lines, I got my hands dirty as a user and the used more times than I can count, and I witnessed plenty that convinced me you have to be willing to use and even be used a little if you want to win in this business. You ask if what Evan Envi does is “villainous?” I answer, “at least he wears the traits openly.”
………………………………
Sofia Monzón: If Evan wants to arrange a meeting at the next Vertigo, I don’t see why not. We didn’t get much from him earlier, so let’s flesh out the details. However, I’ll be at your side to make sure you’re not too caught up in your nostalgia.
Ewan Jakeway: And *I’ll* be at your side to make sure the pair of Susan Kent and Delikado continues to stand tall and true as the new, honest, and unified team destined for tag team greatness!
He acts like he’s speaking to Delikado, but it’s clear Ewan is also addressing this statement to Sofia, who merely looks away with an irritated eyeroll.
Sofia Monzón: So, we’ve covered Bisley and how Delikado professionally managed his grief at losing to him, Susan Kent’s uselessness as a cornerstone in our path to a major title shot, and an arranged sit-down with FGA’s World Champion that’s probably a two-sided exploitation of friendship in bygone days…Anything else?
Ewan Jakeway: Frik Snackey and Delikado’s upcoming fight against him…?
Sofia looks like she could facepalm, but she only exhales deeply as she gazes at her comatose client
Sofia Monzón: Oh joy, the plotline that keeps on giving. You freaking look like “fight against a vegan savage!” This should’ve been wrapped up after The Resistance and The Fam. At the very least, you seem secure on an endgame deadline: Only The Strong Survive. Granted, I don’t know how you plan on going about this particular business, and I should be one of those IN-THE-KNOW, you ass!
…………………………………………………………….
Sofia Monzón: “Wait and see, wink cocky wink.” Honestly, you going AWOL and doing our own thing with these shenanigans is something else that needs to change, or that’s another reckoning we can count on down the line. The “Boss Delikado” days are long gone, my friend.
Ewan Jakeway: I just want this reckoning with Snackey and those Swedish guys to end so I can stop looking over my shoulder in fear—
Suddenly, Butter, Delikado’s trainer, kicks in a random locker, causing Ewan to scream and flinch like a girl. The bulbous-headed giant falls to the ground in a manic hurry.
Butter: Did a chap say the Swede Son Gustav and his kin Otto was here?! Lemme at em, I’mma bound to slay the scum for all dey done to me ‘n my family village!
Sofia single-handedly stops the big man in his tracks and looks him square in his near manic eyes.
Sofia Monzón: Stow the rampage, Butter, or I’ll plant Delikado’s wheelchair on top of you. They’re not here, and you’re not about to derail our business with YOUR craziness on top of everything else we have going on. So climb back into the locker and sleep, or whatever the hell you were just doing, and I’ll let you know when it’s game time.
Butter calms pretty quickly, mostly from the pressure Sofia is applying to his shoulder, and accordingly retreats to the locker from which he emerged.
Butter: Roight, so long as ye lads know the Swede will be mine on dat time.
When he’s back in the locker and shut it, Sofia sighs and looks at Deli and Ewan with exhaustion.
Sofia Monzón: I can’t be alone in thinking we have to be one of the most surreal, <BEEP>ing unusual groups this company’s had to have seen, right?
Ewan Jakeway: We’re probably up there.
(o)(o)(o)(o)(o)(o)
Another strange (perhaps even stranger) group can be found elsewhere making their own prep for the weeks ahead. Frik Snackey, FGA food purveyor and resident vegan Hulk is punching on some tofu shaped like meat ala Rocky. Nearby are the two talking pigeon brothers Eon Pig and Apocalypse Face, observing idly as they chow on some pizza.
Eon Pig: Yo, Snackers, why dontcha’ll take a break hitting dat meat and snack on dis fiiiiine asssss ‘za, sqwak?
Breathing heavily between punches, Frik Snackey barks out his response.
Frik Snackey: No! I have to keep training! Delikado has challenged me to a fight, and if I want to achieve my vengeance for the vegan snacks he and his crew shamelessly ravaged, I must stay in tip top shape. If I hunger, the tofu will nourish!
With that, he plucks a chunk of tofu “meat” off the hook and takes a big bite. The pigeons just exchange looks before returning to their pizza and whispering to each other.
Apocalypse Face: Yo, bro, why you invitin’ dat fool over here lettin’ him eat our food, not to mention lyin' bout how it be good when it ain't, sqwak!?
Eon Pig: Oh, I didn’t actually want or hope he’d join us, sqwak! Can’t stand dis mutha<BEEP>a, or his gross-ass vegan pizza slop, but see, it bout bein’ nice to the provider, Apoc, sqwak! Playin’ up all friendly like’ll get us vittles for days, nahmean, sqwak? We gotsta follow the strongest playa in da foodie game, my birdy brother, and right now, dat fool be the one, sqwak! I'm thinkin' he'll 'member us fondly for loyalty and pay us back with some REAL food once he done finished this blood feud with old man Deli, sqwak!
Apocalypse Face: Ohhhhhh, I getcha now, sqwak! You a smart bird thinkin' long game, my bro, sqwak! All the same, I gotsta say this Snack cat be major mad, like crazy eye stark wild kind, sqwak!
Eon Pig: Nah, Apoc, he DANGEROUS is what he be. Delikado and his crew done done a thing to this human I dunno and I don’t like, sqwak! But don’t worry yo silly wings, big bro’ll come up with somethin’ if we lookin' to get pigeonholed as ones to snub, sqwak!
The gym door swings open and “Prince” Otto Sonsson enters, pushing his father “King” Son Gustav before him in a wheelchair. The Prince’s royal guards follow, some carrying chairs, a table, and some food that they set out in a lavish platter. Snackey looks toward the young Swede, who speaks only half-interestedly at him.
Prince Otto Sonsson: Ve figured you’d be here doing your “zraining” for zee fight. Zought ve’d vatch as our dinner amusement, right, Father?
The decrepit “monarch”, who could give Delikado a run for his money on broken down old man-isms, barely grunts as he’s pushed to the table before all the food laid down. Snackey frowns at them.
Frik Snackey: I’m not doing this to “amuse” you. This is me, working to end this thing once and for all, to bring justice back to my company!
Prince Otto: So does zis mean you vill not partake…?
He almost mockingly holds up a piece of shrimp toward the big man, no longer afraid of his size or wrath, especially with all his added bodyguards around. Snackey returns to his training with a word.
Frik Snackey: No.
Slightly annoyed he could not provoke the titan further, Prince Otto frowns and starts to eat, before he notices the pigeons eyeballing the platter a few feet away. The Swede smirks and waves them over.
Prince Otto: Come, join me, birds. Zis has zoo be better zan zat…slop.
The pigeons eye the mediocre-looking pizza, then the lavish platter of Swedish food, and then Snackey. Realizing he’s not watching or even caring if he is, the brothers pigeon hop over to the table and admire the spread.
Apocalypse Face: Yooooooo shiiiiiiiit, dis like Chef Ramsay food, but, like, a billyfold, sqwak! NOM NOM-oww!
Having been pecked admonishingly for trying to wolf down the nearest thing by his brother, Apocalypse Face grumbles to himself while Eon Pig bows courteously to the Prince.
Eon Pig: Don’t mind my lil bro, Mightiness, he was born quick on dat nom, slow on dat nomledge, nahmean, sqwak?
Prince Otto: Not veally, but please, enjoy yourselves.
The pigeons need no second bidding and shamelessly begin to tear into the food while Prince Otto pops a single grape into his mouth and watches Snackey as he chews it.
Prince Otto: Zee Snackman really is putting all his heart into training for zee fight with zee Kooban. I suppose I should not be surprised ven I heard zee rules—one-on-one, winner take all in FGA playground. A fight between varriors, vorthy of zee greatest Viking sagas you told me as a child, Father.
Apocalypse Face: *between mouthfuls* Yah…..shame ol…Deli jerko gon get LIT….. UP…..sqwak! Eaaaaaasy peeeeasy…..sqwak!
Prince Otto glances at the birds in sudden wonder.
Prince Otto: And vat makes you zink zat…?
Eon Pig: *between mouthfuls* What my bro means…is Snackey got dat size game on lock…sqwak! Same with…with the strength and power…sqwak! Not to mention old man Delikado….blind by lust for dat fakeass Susan Kent chick…sqwak! He eyeing dat boobage and dat ass…. more than any fight, sqwak!
Prince Otto: Vat do you mean she is, how you say, “fock ass?”
Eon Pig: Fake, yo, sqwak. Like, saying she got injuries in her arm ‘n shit, when fact is she totes fine ‘n healthy, sqwak! Me and my bro picked that up along the line in our carrier pigeon travels, kept it to ourselves though, sqwak! Mighta been a good thing we did, tho, cuz dat bitch Sofia managin’ Deli goes on screaming banshee warpaths half the time ya mention pretty Kent, sqwak.
Apocalypse Face: Yeah, son, but let 'em go on not knowing I say, hehehehehehe, sqwak!
Prince Otto leans back in his chair, a look across his face like he’s forming a plan on top of his previously established plan as he soaks in this new information. Putting his folded hands to his chin in thought, his eyes snap between the brawling Snackey and then into the empty air as he cracks the slightest of smiles—something sinister is brewing in the young Swede’s head as we cut to black on this AfterBurn!
