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Main Event Caliber
(At Shorty’s Bar in Seattle, Washington. Leyenda de Ocho sits on a barstool, happily sipping away at a diet coke and chatting with his good friend: Kim, the pint-sized waitress. A stack of files with information about New Frontier Wrestling sit on the counter and the pair are sifting through them, attempting to learn as much as they can about Ocho’s most recent wrestling venture. They are happily chatting away as a camera slowly approaches.)
Kim: “So let me get this straight - HOW many places are you wrestling now??”
Ocho: “Just three! Really, it’s not that bad, is it?”
Kim: “You’re a madman.”
Ocho: “In my defense, it was Spooky Doom we’re talking about. You know our history.” (Ocho takes a sip.)
Kim: “A madman who drinks Diet Coke.”
Ocho: “Well, you remember what happened LAST time you gave me a beer…”
Kim: “HAAAA, yes! That was the best! And why exactly don’t you want to do that again?”
Ocho: “…We’ll see. First thing’s first: we gotta get back to this mountain of papers here. NFW is WAY bigger than anywhere else I’ve been.”
(They continue plowing through flyers and pay-per-view posters and roster information. Kim takes a few shots of Jameson throughout the process; it appears she is playing a drinking game with herself.)
Ocho: “Slow down, sister!”
Kim (grinning): “I’m just taking a drink for every guy I see who lasted longer than you in the Ultratitle.”
Ocho: “Wow, low blow! Besides, I was in the co-main event at Survivalism, remember?”
Kim: “Is Phil Atken here too? I’ll need to take another shot if I find him.”
Ocho: “Hardy har har.”
Kim (glancing at a particular news item printed from the internet): “You need to come up with a new battle plan, by the way. Spooky Doom’s out.”
Ocho: “Spooky Doom’s OUT?? What??”
(Kim hands Ocho the flyer as he quickly grasps it, his eyes flying up and down the page.)
Ocho: “…well, eff.”
Kim: “What are you going to do?”
Ocho: “…I mean, I should still stick around. I signed a contract, or at least it looked like one…there were a few Halo references thrown into some of the fine print…”
Kim: “Right up your alley!”
Ocho: “I’m more of a Contra man, myself…
The good news is, if I keep going on, I get a shot at the TV, Triple Crown, or Tag titles. What do we have on that?”
(Kim hands over three files detailing the current TV, Triple Crown, and Tag champions.)
Ocho: “Let’s see…Triple Crown champion Rook Black has been a dominant titleholder for four years and OHMYGODHEHASATRIFORCEBELT…
…….”
(Ocho looks up at Kim, a blank stare in his eyes which suddenly turns to giddy excitement. He slaps down $2 on the table for the soda and sprints to his hotel room. Upon arriving, he frantically digs through a green suitcase, pulling out an original Nintendo Entertainment System and a Legend of Zelda cartridge. He plugs it into the hotel television as the camera fades to black.)
Kim: “So let me get this straight - HOW many places are you wrestling now??”
Ocho: “Just three! Really, it’s not that bad, is it?”
Kim: “You’re a madman.”
Ocho: “In my defense, it was Spooky Doom we’re talking about. You know our history.” (Ocho takes a sip.)
Kim: “A madman who drinks Diet Coke.”
Ocho: “Well, you remember what happened LAST time you gave me a beer…”
Kim: “HAAAA, yes! That was the best! And why exactly don’t you want to do that again?”
Ocho: “…We’ll see. First thing’s first: we gotta get back to this mountain of papers here. NFW is WAY bigger than anywhere else I’ve been.”
(They continue plowing through flyers and pay-per-view posters and roster information. Kim takes a few shots of Jameson throughout the process; it appears she is playing a drinking game with herself.)
Ocho: “Slow down, sister!”
Kim (grinning): “I’m just taking a drink for every guy I see who lasted longer than you in the Ultratitle.”
Ocho: “Wow, low blow! Besides, I was in the co-main event at Survivalism, remember?”
Kim: “Is Phil Atken here too? I’ll need to take another shot if I find him.”
Ocho: “Hardy har har.”
Kim (glancing at a particular news item printed from the internet): “You need to come up with a new battle plan, by the way. Spooky Doom’s out.”
Ocho: “Spooky Doom’s OUT?? What??”
(Kim hands Ocho the flyer as he quickly grasps it, his eyes flying up and down the page.)
Ocho: “…well, eff.”
Kim: “What are you going to do?”
Ocho: “…I mean, I should still stick around. I signed a contract, or at least it looked like one…there were a few Halo references thrown into some of the fine print…”
Kim: “Right up your alley!”
Ocho: “I’m more of a Contra man, myself…
The good news is, if I keep going on, I get a shot at the TV, Triple Crown, or Tag titles. What do we have on that?”
(Kim hands over three files detailing the current TV, Triple Crown, and Tag champions.)
Ocho: “Let’s see…Triple Crown champion Rook Black has been a dominant titleholder for four years and OHMYGODHEHASATRIFORCEBELT…
…….”
(Ocho looks up at Kim, a blank stare in his eyes which suddenly turns to giddy excitement. He slaps down $2 on the table for the soda and sprints to his hotel room. Upon arriving, he frantically digs through a green suitcase, pulling out an original Nintendo Entertainment System and a Legend of Zelda cartridge. He plugs it into the hotel television as the camera fades to black.)