Shotgun Episode #4

Pedro Gonzales has been many things. Former cashier, accidental pro wrestler, casualty of zombies, former assistant to Walt Disney (don't ask), pro wrestler (on purpose this time), and inevitably, the leader of Los Rebeldes del Bien. He's grown up a lot from the start--and many restarts–of his wrestling journey. As he embraces his role as charming, hot rudo man, he's going further and further away from who he used to be…somewhat.

The camera follows him as he carries a cooler marked with the mark of omnipresent fraternity Beta Sigma Sigma Gamma. How he got this cooler is unknown. It literally just appeared in the apartment one day and had never left until now. Pedro winks to the camera, either unaware or simply uncaring about the two figures following him. Persona Non Grata lurks about as well as a big man can, the distant shadow making sure that some bullshit doesn't go down. Mestizo is going as fast as his little limbs can carry him, hoping to steal some soup.

…wait. Soup?

Yes. Pedro Gonzales, blossoming rudo man, made soup. A whole damn cooler !full of the stuff and a couple of covered piping hot sample bowls of homemade tomato soup. Being on camera means that he is on, conveying all the confidence needed to be a leader. But where is he going?

It is at this point that some poor soul turns the corner and comes head-to-chest with the Notorious PNG. That man is Tormenta and this collision is the equivalent of an idiot walking into a glass door. Both masked men take a step back and stare at each other for a moment. They each point to the other's mask. Both men have the same thought. It's bad enough there's two faceless men on the roster and now I have to deal with this asshole. Tormenta motions for PNG to move out of his way. However, the Sucesor del Emperador Dorado crosses his arms and laughs at the smol imitation of himself.

Finally, the cooler reaches its destination: the doorstep of Ollie Maverick's locker room. He promised the man soup and damnit, he's getting it. Keeping his inner fanboy to a minimum, Pedro sets the soup down, knocks on the door…and quickly power walks the fuck out of there. Mestizo is on all fours like the little shit goblin he is, going faster than he damn well should. He nearly over shoots his target, skidding past the cooler before scrambling back into frame. He rips off the duct tape keeping one of the bowls stuck to the lid and holds the bowl over his head in victory!

Then he gets snatched up and thrown.

The lid from the still hot food pops off mid flight and tomato starts to splatter all over. Mestizo screams out of panic even as he keeps his mitts on the bowl. He inevitably collides with Tormenta, leaving the storm, the Ewok, and the soup on the floor. Mestizo claws Tormenta out of frustration more than anything as the smaller masked man tries to get to his feet. He nearly slips on the massacred tomato as he thrashes about to remove the beast and backs himself through the curtain, down the ramp, and to ringside. Persona Non Grata nonchalantly follows suit.

Tormenta finally rips Mestizo away from him only to be met with an headbutt that nearly knocks him out. His body gets flung into the ring as PNG steps between the ropes. The ref and the timekeeper look at each other. This wasn't planned to go down. They both shrug their shoulders.

DING DING.

PERSONA NON GRATA vs. TORMENTA

Tormenta tries to shake the cobwebs loose as he looks at PNG who is standing in a corner. The latter isn't moving an inch, merely watching his impromptu prey. Tormenta stumbles to his feet furiously and stomps over to his giant foe. Another silent argument occurs. The smaller man makes it clear he is not backing down by unleashing a thunderous knife edge chop. PNG tilts his head a bit and yeets the poor bastard coast to coast via Mexican Magma Drive.

Yeah. This is going to go as well as you think it will.

Then the combos start. It's always a bad time when the combos start. It's not that Tormenta isn't trying to make it competitive. He most definitely is. He has speed on his side if nothing else and it helps to shift the tides for at least two-point-five seconds. Near the end of this ass beating, he actually rattled PNG's brain just enough to scurry to the top rope in order to settle this impromptu war. And he might've gotten away with it too, if it wasn't for that meddling Ewok chomping at his calf. Tormenta lets out a string of fowl language to make his mother blush. He tries to kick the furry creature away, succeeds, and launches an aerial attack!

Only to be caught by a roaring uppercut.

The high flyer crashes to the mat. PNG could just pin him here, but decides to make his disdain known via the crucifix cutter known as Sacrificio.

One. Two. Three.

DICK DELAURIER: These Rebeldes will fight anyone over just about everything, won't they?

FIONA METZ: Yeah, and I fucking love it!

BIG MOUTH MINDY: Here is your winner, PERSONA NON GRRRRRRRAAATAAAAA!

After commercials, the theme of Adam García, "Eternal Loneliness" by Alex Norre kicks up. The usual boos of the Razor audience tag along with the Spanish Ace appearance. Corvo Prateado, García´s opponent for this match is already waiting for him in the ring.

BIG MOUTH MENDY: From Fuengirola, Málaga, Spain. He is the Spaaaanish Ace, The Number One, ADAAAAAM GARCÍIIIA.

DICK DELAURIER: Something is weird, isn't García acting quieter than usual?, No mic in hand, no arrogance in his way to the ring, smells fishy.

FIONA METZ: Maybe he wants another swordfish fight.

The bell rings, as García and Prateado slowly but surely get closer and closer to each other, eventually ending up in a lock up. García manages to connect a snapmare into a penalty kick, as soon as his kick connects García keeps the momentum and runs to the other side of the ring bouncing in the ropes and connecting a Running V Trigger to the already groggy Corvo Prateado, but for García the battle ain't over. He picks a stunned Prateado up and applies his finisher "Spanish Goodby" (A suplex into a fujiwara armbar). Corvo taps out, but García keeps applying pressure into his maneuver only breaking the hold when the referee threaten to fine him. 

BIG MOUTH MINDY: Here is your winner....ADAM GARCÍA!

García rolls outside of the ring looking for the announcers table and ask for a microphone.

ADAM GARCÍA: As much as i would love to be here to ask Fiona on a date, I have more serious matters to talk about right now. Beating Corvo wasn't enough to satisfy my anger, Ace Sky, I can't wait to break both your body and spirit. Espero con ganas acabar con tu carrera, pero por ahora Bye Bye.

Adam gestures a goodbye sign with his right hand, and picks a card with his number which he slides to Fiona.

As Adam makes his way to backstage the scene fades to black

We fade back to the ring, where a very sour-faced Roxi Farrow is standing, mic in hand.

ROXI FARROW: 'ello, cunts.

The crowd boo to try and drown out the sneering woman, who gives them a moment before she makes a loud hawking noise in her throat. It reverberates horribly through the live mic, which she then smacks hard, unleashing a wave of feedback that has people covering their ears.

ROXI FARROW: Uh huh, yeah. Boo me all you want. Like you boo'd PJ Lemon. Like you boo your own fuckin' mothers when they tell you to clean your room, go to school, stop wanking over your stupid wrestling dolls. You are all pathetic.


ROXI FARROW: YES I BLOODY WELL AM! You all suck. This world sucks. Razor Wrestling sucks. And you know who else sucks? Kenny the FUCKING Ring Boy. But who's held a title? Who had an undefeated streak that got acknowledged on this very show?

FIONA METZ: Oh! That was me! I did that.

DICK DELAURIER: You had an undefeated streak?!

FIONA METZ: Mhm. None of your lame insults have worked on me yet.

ROXI FARROW: Shut it, peanut gallery!

Roxi points at the announce desk, and then tosses her hair, getting back to where she was with a scowl.

ROXI FARROW: Aaand... who hasn't had a single bloody match on that same show? That's right, it's your girl.

The delivery is completely deadpan. She's nobody's girl. The crowd continue to chant, "BITCH! BITCH! BITCH!"

ROXI FARROW: So let's fix all this shite. Let's make it two for two, and put paid to two 'undefeated streaks' before they get any worse. I'm gonna be clear; I don't want a match, and I don't want Peregrina Loca.

The bitch chants stop, and the crowd swells into appreciative cheers!

ROXI FARROW: I just need to break somebody, and prove that your fuckin' God. IS. DEAD!

All out of fucks (and Gods, presumably), Roxi flings the microphone straight into the front row, and starts to limber up against the ropes.

FIONA METZ: Fuck yeah, she hit that guy right in the face!

DICK DELAURIER: Please tell me you're not developing another crush.

FIONA METZ: Fuck no. I only fuck winners.

"Metal Health" by Metalachi hits the speakers, and out storms Peregrina Loca, to a solid pop and a few spirited calls of, "Olé!" She jogs back and forth on the stage, stopping at each side to stir the crowd into the closest thing to a 'frenzy' they've got the energy left to give her, and then sprints straight down the ramp and into the ring, grinning like the cat that got the cream.

PEREGRINA LOCA vs. ROXI FARROW

Pera explodes out the gate with a rebound dropkick, landing on her forearms and shoving herself immediately upright as Roxi catches herself on the ropes, scowls, and lunges forward - shooting in for an ankle pick that seems about to work, until the luchadora spins into an aerial tumble, throwing out her other leg to connect firmly with her opponent's shoulder blade. They go down together, but with Pera on top - where she swiftly floats over and locks in a Mexican surfboard, offering the black-clad bitch queen up like a sacrifice!

DICK DELAURIER: An early lead for the south of the border sensation, Peregrina Loca, who's showing she's not shy to grapple with the highly technical Miss Farrow.

FIONA METZ: Wait, Miss Farrow? Holy shit, are we sure you're not the one simping for her, Dick?

DICK DELAURIER: ...I don't think she has one of those.

Roxi squirms, unleashing a growl that turns into a scream, every whipcord fiber in her arms standing out as she struggles. The official bends down to ask for the submission, and she SPITS IN HIS FACE! The crowd rain down their hatred, and this seems to give her the boost she needs to wrench out of the hold, landing awkwardly and starting to crawl toward one corner. Pera looks shocked, spinning up onto one knee and staring at the crowd, who rally behind her. Quickly, she grins, and darts forward, entrapping the British technician with an ankle lock - only to eat a sharp upkick from the other leg! She falls backwards...

And Farrow rolls on top of her, slamming an elbow into the throat, then fighting for a kimura that she wrenches at with a fierce desperation to cause pain. She's good at what she does, and Pera is forced onto her front, arm bent at an horrific angle! Her teeth gritted, she reaches out toward the bottom rope, falling short by a few inches. She has a power advantage, though, her compact frame able to find a surge of strength that deepens the hold - but gives her the extra hand's width she needs to grab the rope.

The hold is broken at four point nine, by a smugly snarling Roxi Farrow.

DICK DELAURIER: These two putting on a technical masterclass. Anything you can do, I can do better.

FIONA METZ: You can't do anything better than anybody.

DICK DELAURIER: That's not true.

FIONA METZ: Name one thing.

DICK DELAURIER: I fold my ties perfectly.

FIONA METZ: YOU FOLD YOUR TIES?!

Pera and Roxi have locked up again, exchanging a few counter-holds before Pera's able to seize control with a short uppercut to the ribs, a slamming kick to the thigh, and a snug hammerlock - which she uses to shove Farrow toward the ropes. The Brit rebounds, and eats a leapfrog bulldog, then a stunning standing moonsault, for the first pin attempt of the match!

ONE...



TWO...



KICKOUT!

FIONA METZ: Foxy Roxi looks like she's seen a ghost.

Pera isn't keen on losing control, bringing Farrow up into a headlock, only to get countered with an honestly beautiful Northern Lights Suplex - returning immediate fire with a bridge for the pin, and a two count that has both women clamber back to their feet looking wary. There's a nod of respect from Pera, which Roxi answers by spitting in her opponent's face this time. The crowd let out a loud, "OOOOOOHHHHH!" But Peregrina herself just wipes the spittle from her eye and shrugs. She's a mom. She's had worse.

Farrow snarls and lunges forward, right into a brisk forearm, then another! She stumbles, and Pera hits the ropes, picking up ludicrous speed and momentum for a third, flying forearm that sends the British woman sprawling and swearing! The crowd are stomping and chanting for the Mexican estrella, as she stalks the grounded Roxi and is ready to come flying in with a soaring flying side kick!

DICK DELAURIER: She calls that the CHI Kick, Fiona.

FIONA METZ: Why?

DICK DELAURIER: You know, I never actually thought about it.

FIONA METZ: I hate you so much.

Farrow's sent through the middle rope, slumped there as perfect prey for tiger feint kick-- that Pera doesn't quite get all of, because her snarling, spitting opponent manages to snag the striking leg, hurling herself backwards to snap it viciously against the ropes! Pera screams, and falls off the apron to ringside, pursued by Roxi, who locks HER in an ankle lock...

Peregrina Loca's in some trouble, but the official is administering a count, forcing Farrow to abandon the hold and enter the ring. Pera nurses her leg for a moment, but limps back to her feet before Roxi can think about continuing her assault on the outside, sliding back onto the canvas - right into a flurry of stomps, forcing her to roll out of the way, into the corner. Roxi smirks, puts her hands on either side of the corner post, and leaps upwards, bringing both knees down on Pera's skull with a stomach-churning crack!

FIONA METZ: Fuck, she means business.

The crowd do their best to shift the momentum, as Pera is dragged to the middle of the ring, and brought back to her feet by a confident-looking Roxi Farrow. The Brit rattles her with a couple of exceedingly mocking forearms, then whips her toward the ropes, rolling forward as she rebounds - looking to snag a leg and drag her into her deadly calf crusher, GOD IS DEAD!

But, as any true Mexicano can tell you, God is very much alive! Pera manages to roll from her clutches, flipping backwards into a startlingly-explosive basement dropkick that sends Roxi's skull bouncing off the canvas! Rather than follow up, Pera rolls to her feet and asks for a microphone. The crowd oblige, and throw her the dented one slung at them by Roxi.

PEREGRINA LOCA: Puta, Kenny the Ring Boy is twice the wrestler you are - and infinity times the champion you'll ever be.

FIONA METZ: One is infinity times zero, Dick.

DICK DELAURIER: I can do math, thanks.

FIONA METZ: Maths.

PEREGRINA LOCA: You haven't been a champion; and you're never bloody going to be.

Her faux-British accent gets a pop from the crowd, and a snarl of rage from Roxi Farrow, who surges to her feet and runs at the other woman, who turns away, wide-eyed-- falls forward, and catches her with both legs! They crash to the mat as Pera applies a beautiful scissor leg takedown, expertly hooking the head, an arm, and trapping her technical foe with the LOCAMOTIVO!!

Roxi Farrow has nowhere to tap but her own head - but tap she does, to a surge of approval from the fans!

BIG MOUTH MINDY: Here is your winner, PEREGRINA LOCA!

"Metal Health" fills the arena as Peregrina lets her foe crash back onto the canvas, and kips up, throwing up one arm with an, "Olé!" A few in the crowd join her with roughly the right timing, and she rewards them with a grateful grin and a burst of laughter, as the official raises her other arm and this episode of Shotgun ends on a win for the good guys.

DICK DELAURIER: She proved she can team up with anyone, and now Peregrina Loca has demonstrated just how good she is on the mat. Roxi Farrow may not have impressed anybody yet, but I can personally vouch for her grappling expertise.

FIONA METZ: Wait, what?

Dick doesn't acknowledge this interjection. At all.

DICK DELAURIER: Anyone who's not yet a fan will have to buy a ticket for Superunknown, where Peregrina will be warming up the show by facing the Trailer Park Barbie, Daisy Duke. It's going to be a doozy, folks, and the show that ensues will be the greatest that Razor Wrestling has ever shown you. We're only getting hotter from here!

FIONA METZ: You're not hot, Dick. But you're right. Superunknown is going to be EVERYTHING. Don't miss it!

DICK DELAURIER: And don't miss out. Th-Th-Th-That's all, folks!

FIONA METZ: OH MY GOD THAT WAS SO LA--

The show goes off air.