(FADEIN to Xoesh the Zith, Grand Champion of Saedomoe, sitting inside some sort of control room. Xoesh is reviewing video of Leyenda de Ocho’s Seven Stages of Zelda match with Phil Atken. Xoesh pauses the match and stands up close to the screen. He disturbingly begins petting it as Phil Atken stands tall in the ring victorious.)
XOESH THE ZITH: Phil Atken…you mesmerize me with how you continue to pull off victory after victory over the competition that the IGC Commission has thrown at you. (Pauses.) Oh…how I long to examine you in-person. Scan your mind, research your crevasses, and determine how you continue to defeat everyone by defying the odds stacked against you. What makes you tick, Atken? How do you do it?
(Xoesh removes his hand from the screen and unpauses the match. The footage cuts to Leyenda de Ocho in the ring after being bested by Atken and losing his title opportunity against the Intergalactic Champion. Xoesh pauses the video on Leyenda and taps the screen as he looks on at his next opponent.)
Leyenda de Ocho…which if my language translation is correct, roughly translates to “eight legend”. Such a curious name. A name that has no significance. A name that has no meaning to me or anyone else for that matter. And a name that will soon be listed as my latest victim of your barbaric practices of combat.
A name that you will soon need to alter to fit what you will be after we face inside the non-circular ring that you humans inhabit for battle. Your new name shall be Perdedor del Partido.
Which if I am translating Spanish to English properly means…the Loser of the Match.
(Xoesh takes a seat inside the control room. He tilts his head to the side as he continues to examine the image on the screen, as if he is trying to interpret some type of meaning as to who Leyenda is or what his purpose on Earth may be.)
Perdedor, I see promise in you. I see a mass of organs wrapped in adipose tissue that can be of some service to me. A person representing mankind that can enable me to dig further into the human consciousness, beyond my brain scan, and provide information as to the emotions and reasons behind why you humans say and act as you do.
Your race is more complex than I initially anticipated. Perchance the evolution of your species has improved some aspects of your way of life. But my assumption could be incorrect. As I look at what your kind has done to your home planet, I can’t help but think that you people are self-destructive and should not be aloud to continue your existence within my galaxy.
Maybe you can shed light on this dilemma of mine.
While I have postponed an invasion of my fellow planeteers, that does not mean that the possibility still looms. The annihilation of your people is inevitable, whether by Saedomoens or mass genocide brought on by your weapons of mass destruction. No one will survive either way. And as I continue to absorb information and document my investigation for Oxuzi, the Supreme Leader of Saedomoe, in order to provide enlightenment of your continuation on this planet to the Master…everyone will be spared for now.
However, that does not make everyone safe or exempt from being put on the examining table and probed for knowledge of their inner workings.
Perdedor, I will afford you the opportunity to choose your own fate. You can come willingly, become a disciple of Xoesh, to insure your health and well being for months to come before you wear out your usefulness to me.
Or you can suffer the same fate as Raucous. Become my next victim, be subjected to probing in my examination room, be…as you people say…tagged and released back into the wild. Suffer severe flashbacks and mental anguish from the thorough inspection I shall subject you to. Crying yourself to sleep at night, always looking over your shoulder in order to anticipate when the next abduction shall occur.
Is this the life you wish to live? The torment of always being on guard…never being able to relax or, as you people do, “breathe a sigh of relief”?
(Xoesh laughs at the absurdity of that statement, as if a “sigh of relief” even exists…what is the purpose of it. To him, breathing is just a way for mankind to sustain life.)
The choice is yours.
But I warn you…
Choose wisely or suffer the consequences set before you.
(Xoesh stands up and looks to his left. The camera cuts to his point of view to reveal a white space that looks similar to an operating room inside of a hospital. A table is present with some machinery handing from the ceiling above it. The camera cuts back to Xoesh with a close-up of his face.)
Your time to decide is slowly running out.
(Xoesh holds up a clear tube in front of his face and gives an evil smile before bellowing out a maniacal laugh.)
(The camera opens to Leyenda de Ocho, lying on his back in the locker room of Broadbent Arena in Louisville. He wears the forest green Zelda mask and ring gear from his first IGC matches, covered in sweat and grimacing in obvious pain. A purple slab of bruise peeks out from the visible portion of his back, running from his shoulders to below his ribs. He is covered in sweat, having just completed a probably-too-strenuous workout that he is having difficulty recovering from.)
Ocho: “This isn’t working…
…what I’m doing isn’t working.
He’s too evil, too powerful…too much. I need something more…I need to dig deeper…I need something GREATER than the muster that’s been good enough to get me to the gates of the Final Level.
…this hurts. All of me. Hurt. This is a pain I’m not used to…and Xoesh the Zith is no one to trifle with. I was there in the Tables, Ladders and Chairs match – he hit me. Hard. If I don’t get this cleared up soon…if I don’t find a way to hard-reboot my mainframe…I’m done.”
(Ocho closes his eyes in a mixture of deep thought, sadness, and intense searching when he is interrupted by a knock on the door. A backstage worker wearing an IGC polo shirt enters with a football-sized package wrapped in green paper with sloppy yellow triangles pasted around it and a crude space invader drawn on top with an IGC, backward C.)
Worker: “Ocho, a young fan asked me to deliver this to you.”
(Ocho is able to see a dirty blonde mop of hair peek around the doorframe before quickly darting away.)
Ocho: “What is it?”
Worker: “He wouldn’t tell me; only that it was a gift, and that he hopes you’re feeling better.”
(Ocho accepts the package as the worker leaves. Opening it up, he sees a folded piece of notebook paper tucked in beside a large glass bottle with a cork three inches across plugged in the top. The contents of the bottle are empty except for a fluorescent pink ball that seems to sparkle, crudely pasted with what appear to be fairy wings. Ocho’s eyes light up as he reaches for the note, reading it aloud to the camera.)
Ocho: “Dear Leyenda de Ocho,
My name is Kyle and I am seven years old. You are my favorite wrestler in the whole world. My mom says maybe I shuddn’t watch wrestling but my dad says it’s OK. Zelda is my favorite game too. I like playing Link because Link is a good guy and my dad says the good guys will always win if you try hard enough. I think you are the best wrestler because you are the good guy in the IGC (backwards C). And you look like Link and I think that’s really cool.
I was really sad when you lost to Phil Atken when he cheated and bit your hand and you fell all the way to the ground. I hope you are feeling OK because that looked like it hurt really bad. I cried, but only for a little bit, and then my dad said I should play some Zelda to make me feel better so I did. When I was playing Link died a lot too – but it’s ok, because you can always start over. And sometimes when you die if you’re smart you’ll have a bottle with a fairy in it because if you have a bottle with a fairy in it you can start back right away without losing all your progress. It’s really important to have those on boss fights so I made you one. I hope you like it, it took me an hour to make it and then my dad drove me to Louisville because we live not too far.
You should win because you’re the best wrestler and the most fun and all my friends think you’re the greatest. My dad says he likes you too but he says it’s about “work rate” and I don’t know what that means but I think it means you’re good. Don’t give up Ocho because we all want to see you win and you deserve to win.
Your biggest fan,
(Ocho’s eyes tear up as he smiles and clutches the bottle to his chest. He nods, purpose renewed. Heart renewed. Passion, renewed.)
(FADEIN to Xoesh the Zith in his control room again. The Champion of Saedomoe is watching footage of the private moment that Leyenda de Ocho recently had when he received a package from a fan.
How could Xoesh see this? How would he know that this event occurred…let alone have footage in his control room of this taking place? Maybe this man of mystery is telling the truth; perhaps he truly is not of this world.
Xoesh watches on and cackles as he reviews this very touching and interpersonal moment that Leyenda has with himself.)
XOESH THE ZITH: Leyenda…Perdedor…it’s all the same to me. I couldn’t help but noticing the beautiful gesture that this young earthling gave to you. What was his name, Kyle? What a precious moment…a cherished gift that I am sure will provide you inner strength as you recover psychically and mentally from that battle you had with Phil Atken.
I realize that Phil Atken, first and foremost, is your priority…as you have yet to respond to me…your next opponent here in IGC.
I find it foolish that you continue to dwell in the past rather than concentrate on your future. Why do you ignore me? Why do you try to look beyond me and pray to whatever idol you believe in that you get another match with Atken?
You must realize something. In order for you to get another match with him…you must defeat me first. But that will not be a simple task. I have plans of my own, poor human. I too have grand designs on facing Phil Atken and reclaiming honor and glory to my planet…and to my ruler…the great and powerful Oxuzi.
The agenda that I speak of includes disposing of you in our match in Louisville, securing the proper number of victories needed to cash in on a title shot, and taking care of Phil Atken in a way that you do not have the skill set to even dream of doing.
Your arrogance in not acknowledging my threats towards you intrigues me, young Perdedor. I would normally try to hide any emotions from being displayed…but you are pushing my patience. I have afforded your planet enough time to stay in existence…yet you do not show any appreciation in this gesture.
For that…you must be punished!
But maybe I won’t take retribution on you directly. Sure, you will face defeat in our match up…but your actions deserve much more of a severe punishment than putting your shoulders to the mat for the count of three. Probably, while it may be cruel to some…it may also be disturbingly pleasurable to others.
So instead off giving you a free colonoscopy, which may hold a retail value upwards of $200 in the United States, I will seek vengeance another way. Not by punishing the guilty…but by executing my sentence on an innocent bystander.
Your treasured fan, Kyle!
I have looked in on this boy. Lurked in the shadows as he slept. Scanned his brain to discover out how he felt when he found out he was diagnosed with a life-threatening illness.
That’s right; I know more about Kyle than you do.
Don’t worry, he is safe. I haven’t probed him. I wouldn’t dare harm a naive child who was dragged into this battle because of you.
(Xoesh smiles, tilts his head, then straightens it up and continues speaking to Leyenda de Ocho.)
Don’t blame me for bringing it up. It was when I was watching you…that I learned of him. You should shoulder all of the blame yourself. The guilt of bringing this kid into the fray. How dare you take the time to accept a package from a fan when your biggest threat to the IGC title stands before you right here?
Then again…maybe all of this is a ploy by me to toy with your psyche. You already appear preoccupied with other issues...why don’t I just pile on to the problems you are wrestling with inside that feeble mind of yours?
You see…if it is one thing I have learned from you humans…it is that a psychological advantage always assists when heading into battle. If your opponent doubts himself, questions his ability, then winning is a that much more easier task to achieve. And the injury too? That only compounds your predicament
Don’t fret though, young Ocho. I can take away the pain. I can erase your problems. I have the power to dissolve all that ails you and share my capability with you so that you can blossom into a disciple of Xoesh. No greater honor can be bestowed upon you.
But the choice is in your hands.
Just keep in mind the consequences that await if you cross me by choosing to not accept my offer. I would hate for anything to happen to your fan, Kyle.
The clock is ticking and it expires when we meet in the ring in Louisville. Rest easy, train well, and keep your mind free and clear of the problems surrounding you.
(Xoesh grins and the scene fades to black as he gives an exaggerated evil maniacal laugh.)
“Threats of child abduction, Xoesh? A bold play…what’s your plan for entering the arena past the wall of Louisville’s finest who would have all the evidence they need to put you away for 15-20 years?”
(The camera opens to Leyenda de Ocho standing before an extra-pixelated IGC backdrop. Serious face. Arms crossed. Pointed eyes behind his Zelda mask that give off a pure “I’m not putting up with your shit” aura.)
Ocho: “Is this my cue to shake in my 8-bit boots? Am I supposed to cower in fear that a guy wearing a mask is making threats towards a perfectly nice young man who touched my heart and gave me all the reason in the world to battle on more fiercely than ever?
Take it from another guy who wears masks - don’t make threats. Don’t sully yourself with false bravado. And don’t EVER try to get into the head of a proud man with pure, unwavering fanaticism to an ideal based on true goodness.
You are bluffing, Xoesh, and bluffing badly. You haven’t stalked Kyle in the shadows of his home. You haven’t abducted him. And you’re not going to harm a hair on that boy’s head. You know why?
One, the police…two, you’ll never wrestle anywhere ever again, and your hopes of winning the precious Intergalactic Championship will go up in flames…three?
…You’re no alien.
I didn’t cower to your threats when you last saw me because I was having a moment that your ‘Zithian’ mind may not comprehend - pure uplift. The truth is, after losing my second shot at the Space Invader belt, I was in a very dark place. I was upset, I was searching my mind for where I went wrong…how to continue…WHY I should continue. And then, like poetry - an extra life. A fairy whose symbology may not mean a thing to someone like you, and frankly, that’s too bad…lots of people I’ve met in this journey miss out on the beautiful iconography of old games, the stories they tell, the lessons they bestow. That moment restored my heart tenfold and reminded me just how much the fans have embraced me with open arms - how much joy and success I have experienced in the last year because something I’m doing is resonating with them…and how I need to keep doing it. I need to keep resonating some hidden joy in the hearts of the thousands of kids like Kyle who need a hero, who need to see that with enough determination and effort, a nerdy five-foot-eight kid from a bad neighborhood in Chicago can do ANYTHING he sets his mind to! Every cheer? Every OH-CHO, OH-CHO, OH-CHO? Every kid with a mask and a 1UP t-shirt, every adult with a mask and a 1UP t-shirt? New life. Newfound spiritual energy. New reasons to press on even though I’ve tasted the bitterest defeat a man can experience in an IGC ring, TWO times.
I don’t cower to your threats NOW, because I see through you. There was a time I was ready to embrace you, Xoesh. Where I thought, here’s someone like me. Here’s someone who has taken a passion of their lives and seeks to embody it mind, body and soul in order to express who they are. Someone who could make us smile, who could make us enjoy this fantasy, this bizarre world of wrestling.
Instead? You’re a coward. A fraud. A phony. Someone who would DARE invoke threats against the name of an innocent kid because you think that the moment I had in my lowest of lows was some kind of joke, some kind of excuse for you to poke fun and say ‘Look at that Perdedor’. You are Superman 64 - a broken game with no substance and an overwhelming number of glitches that was tossed into the fray, hands thrown up in shame and defeat, because it’s easier to make a quick buck selling a terrible product than it is to take the time and make something real.
I’m not afraid of you, Xoesh.
And neither is Kyle.”
(Ocho walks quickly to the side, showing no noticeable limp or body-favoring despite the large welts still visible on his back. Fade to black.)
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