Scene fades up inside a dojo. Standing out like a sore thumb is El Linchador, who's in the middle of a kid’s class. Actually, the class is technically a beginner’s class, but Linchy still looks awkward and confused. Over his white karate uniform, El Linchador wears both golden ICWF title belts. The class is practing a high kick, and Linchy is performing it correctly, yet he’s having trouble with the belts blocking his movement.
El Linchador : Geez… these belts are really working my abs, but I can’t do this move. Oh, ICWF’s here, HELLLLLLLLL-OO -
Trainer : Mr. El Linchador, I think it’s time you take off your belts.
The camera pans around, and spots the trainer of the class – a boy not much older than the rest of the class! He's looking right at the The ICWF World and Light Champion. Linchy stumbles a bit forward, thrown off of his opening monologue. The rest of the 4th – 6th graders stop their exercise and look up at the tall man.
El Linchador : But, I HAVE to wear them, Guillermo! It’s like a rule – you have a title, you wear the belt.
Trainer Guillermo : Mr. El Linchador, if you want me to help you train, you need to leave your ego – and your belts – at the door.
El Linchador : Well, I’d have to check, but I think I’m contractually bound to wear these things – you think this is tough? Trying to wee-wee in a urinal is KILLER!
Sensei Guillermo : Mr. El Linchador, are you afraid you will lose them?
Linchy opens his mouth, but then shuts it. He looks toward the ICWF camera, and asks for a minute, taking in the question. Linchy turns back to look at the 12 year-old karate instructor.
El Linchador : Well, “afraid” is a funny word. I’m very proud of these title belts, young man, and I don’t wear them around to look tough. I don’t put them around my waist to gloat or show off. I wear these two title belts as a reminder to all my Linchy-ites. These two title belts are PROOF that hard work, dedication, and perseverance can make your dreams come true! You don’t have to take short cuts. You don’t have to cheat, lie, and steal to be a champion. You can put your heart and soul on the line every night and come out the victor. It’s all about trying your hardest, and reaching your dreams. These belts are a symbol of that struggle, gang. These belts are SOLID evidence that people like Killa Kali could never earn something like this. Sure, him and cohorts like him have taken, kidnapped, or bought these in the past, yet it always ends up back around the waists of those who not only had to fight the standard fight, but pull themselves up over the dredge and the filth that kept it in ugly hands for so long. I don’t know if I’ll win my match on Sunday. I don’t know if Kali will win. I don’t know if I’ll walk out with these belts, or if I’ll walk out 100% healthy… but “afraid”? No. I am not afraid. I’ve never been afraid. All I can do is give this match my all. Put everything on the line. And trust that my true skill and true ability will come through in the end – only the athlete who should truly win, will. The best man will win… even though Kali smells like dead people.
The trainer nods his head, as all the other kids look inspired. The pre-teen karate instructor clears his throat.
Master Guillermo : Very nice, El Linchador… you are quite wise… but, the belts still need to come off!
El Linchador : You smell too! These belts are holding up my pants!
Cocky Guillermo : Take off the belts… or take off!
The little kids laugh at the karate instructor’s pun, and Linchy’s shakes his head. He heads out the door, with the ICWF crew close behind. Once on the sidewalk, he stops and turns suddenly, almost running into it.
El Linchador : By the way, HELLLLLLLLLL-Lo, Linchy-ites and ICWF’ers, ‘tis I, your title-holdin’ trainee, your workout-desperate risk-taker, your flabby flyweight, Co-Owner of the 2 Most Fabulous Titles Ever To Grace Professional Sports in the ICWF Lightweight and ICWF World Title… El Linchador. I added 2 more frickin’ pounds, Linchy-ites. 2! I think my escape from Ballet of Beezlebub helped in that cause… but, DANG, Linchy-ites, I can’t find a good trainer in this city for the LIFE of me. Doogie Howser Karate MD was quite unreasonable and someone musta pooped their pants in there cuz it REEKED. Regardless, I’m struggling, here, Linchy-ites. I’m serious. Kali-brator is right about one thing – I need to get prepared for this match, and I’m all alone right now. If I don’t get some qualified help soon, Kali’s gonna eat me for dinner!
Scene cuts.
To a Detroit coffeehouse. The band
Lead Singer : Mama put a smoke out on MY … arm…/ mama always put me in … harm / She drank and she smoke and she puked and she toked / BUT SHE WAS MAMA! / YEAH YEAH!
A huge guitar riff ends the song. The coffeehouse goes crazy, as the band bows. Pedro humbly curtsies.
Lead Singer : THANK YOU, “COFFEE HAVE BEANS” – we’ll take a quickie 15 minute potty break. BRB peoples.
The band leaves the stage, and Pedro quickly follows in pursuit, not sure where they’re going to rest at. He follows them down a back hallway, and through a doorway. It’s a small office, where the owner likely sits. Apparently, the owner has gone home for the night, as the lead singer takes a seat in his chair, and the drummer and guitarists find places to lean on or sit on. Pedro finds a paint can, and takes a seat there, looking over his recorder. The lead singer kicks him in the shoulder to get his attention.
Pedro : Hey, what was that for?
Lead Singer : Nah, bro, it’s cool – I was just trying to get your attention. You play that recorded like a FIEND, man!
The rest of the band mumbles and moans in positive agreement, as Pedro spots a TV sitting on a back table. He gets up, and turns it on, while responding.
Pedro : Really? Thanks, guys, but I still don’t know why a young group of guys wants an old fogey like me playing recorder in your band. I think you guys sound GREAT without me.
Pedro turns on the TV, and starts flipping through the channels. The lead singer looks at the rest of the band, who all smile.
Lead Singer : My man, Ped – list off for me bands that have a person playing recorder. Heck, name off a SONG that you can remember that has a recorder in it?? Come on??
Pedro smiles, as he’s reached a channel airing ICWF TV. He pauses to answer.
Pedro : A band with a recorder? … Well… none that I can think of, which is my point.
The lead singer throws up his hands, as he puts his feet up on the desk and takes a Pixie Stix out from his jean pocket. The drummer, who was playing a Game Boy Advance, looks up.
Drummer : Nah, that’s OUR POINT, dude! We’re gonna be the first BIG punk band that has a guy playing RECORDER! People will think we’re Irish and stuff!
Lead Guitarist : Dude, that Mama song, I had a great idea for the end of the video!
Bassist : Yogi, this is a good, listen up.
Yogi, the Lead Singer : Dude, we already decided that the grave at the end would be his mom’s.
Lead Guitarist : Dude… have the grave be YOURS at the end… ya know, like it’s you looking at your grave, man!
Yogi, the Lead Singer : Whoa…
Bassist : Whoa, dude…
Drummer : Dude…
Lead Guitarist : Yeah…
All heads turn in unison at not hearing the new recorder player’s reaction. Frowns all come across their faces, as they see Pedro eagerly watching the most recent Killa Kali promo. Pedro is laughing, scoffing, and getting upset at the screen. The lead singer turns back to the rest of the band, and they all shake their heads in disapprovement.
Pedro : Oh my god, what a LIAR… you don’t even know who you’re DEALING with… man, I hope Linchy sets him on… fire… what?
Pedro turns around, seeing that the lead singer, Yogi, is now holding his recorder. The rest of the band are on their feet and have their arms crossed.
Yogi, the Lead Singer : Dude… we were talking about OUR video… we can’t have OUR new member be distracted by TV!
Pedro : Oh no, you don’t understand – remember how I said I was a trainer? Well, my number one client, El Linchador, he’s a wrestler, see, and he has this BIG match against a pretty tough guy by the name of Killa Kali, and I was just watching Kali’s little smack-talking tape, and it was just FUNNY the way he exaggerated everything… and stuff… why are you holding Madeline?
The lead singer looks at the recorder, turning it in his hand to read the name right there, emblazoned gold along the side: Madeline.
Yogi, the Lead Singer : Madeline… who was she?
Pedro lowers his head, and shuts off the TV. The other band members loosen a bit, realizing Yogi hit a soft spot. Yogi is unaware, still upset about something else.
Pedro : My other Madeline… was my wife… She… passed on over 10 years ago… She bought me that recorder for me when we got married. She told me that everytime I’d play it, it would be a reminder to me of her… She was right…
Yogi nods, gently placing the instrument back down. He looks back up at Pedro, his eyes afire.
Yogi, the Lead Singer : Dude… quite honestly, you rock. You rock on that recorder, dude. But, here’s the thing. We’re going places. We’re aiming for the top, whether that be “Pepsi Smash” or a Friday concert in the park on “Today” – whatever it is, man, we’re headed there. And we can’t have anyone NOT focused on the goal, man. If you’re still in your little wrestling world… quite frankly, you better get off the train right now. So, what is it, my elder friend – Naked Monkeys… or half-naked men?
Pedro, taken aback, stands up straight, looking at the band. He looks down at his instrument, then back up at the band.
Scene switches.
A dance studio. 4 part harmony bellows out from a CD player. A dark-skinned man is in front of 4 well-dressed boys with spiky hair… and El Linchador. Linchy is wearing black tights and a T-shirt reading
Dancer : Okay, 2Bgood, and little Linchy, follow me – and a one and a 2 -
The boy band, 2Bgood, follows in-step with the arm moves and spinning dance maneuvers. Linchy gives up and defaults to the chicken dance. The dancer sees Linchy flapping his “wings” and freezes. The boy band turns and sees Linchy doing the squat portion of the dance.
El Linchador : Time for the arm swing, fellas! Dah-dah-dah-dah… dahDAH … Dah-dah-dah…
Linchy sings it, and hooks arm with the closest guy. They all laugh, but the dancer is not happy. He puts his hands on his hips.
Dancer : EL LINCHADOR! THIS ISN’T A WEDDING! If you don’t quit clowning around, I’ll make you WAIT til 2BGood is done! They have a concert tonight at the Allstate, and if they suck, it’s all your fault!
Voice : Come on, Linchy – we got work to do!
All heads turn toward the door, as Pedro walks in, wearing his gray sweatsuit!!
2BGood : PEDRO!
El Linchador : Pedro! Wait… you guys know him, too?
Pedro grabs Linchy by the arm, and pulls him out of the room.
Pedro : We’ve lost a LOT of time – and you have a title to retain!
El Linchador : But… but…
Pedro : Let’s just say that I realized that I can who I am here. And that is saving your butt from an ass kickin!
El Linchador : PEDRO! The children!
Pedro : - are gonna watch you beat Killa Kali. Come on – we got work to do!
Pedro pushes a gleeful El Linchador out the door, as the boy band gives a collective thumbs-up, and the dance instructor shakes his head. Outside, with the ICWF cameras following, Linchy stops Pedro.
El Linchador : Pedro, why the corny ending to my promos? I thought you were gone for good.
Pedro : Corny? I don't care about that - I want you to win, El Linchador, and we've come this far. Kali, ODJ, FTF, no matter who - our time here in the ICWF is something WE built, and it's not gonna go down like this! I need you as much as you need me. We're in this together, and a victory on Sunday will solve all our problems!
El Linchador : ... Wellllll... MOST of our problems, good ol' buddy ol' pal!
Pedro : Come again?
El Linchador : I've kinda lost pops - til Sunday, tune in Linchy-ites, OLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Pedro : WHAT? Whuddya mean LOST?
Linchy begins to explain as the scene dissolves to Midway airport. El Toreador sits sadly on a seat, with carry on boxes all around him. He looks up at the sign of outgoing flights. He smiles at the one he must be taking - Honolulu. Scene fades.
