I AM THE DANGER!

[Delikado]

Some-Kinda-Something-Productions presents
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Episode 33 - "I AM THE DANGER!"

Unknown Location[/u]

That’s right…you…you can’t stop ME, Noble One. Lameass mofo. You think you bad? DELIKADO is the BAD one, bitch. Oh, you wanna try and reach up, take that briefcase off the chain…? Well how’sa bout ol Delikado push you off the table pyramid we got here and send your pasty ass flying into a woody hell?

The scene fades in, and we find Delikado sitting, alone, in what appears to be a Laundromat. With his back resting up against one of the dryers, he tilts his head up, revealing bloodshot eyes and a rather pale face. The Cuban clicks his tongue on his teeth and lifts up a cigar from the floor. He takes a puff, nibbles on the cigar a bit, and then sets it down next to him, shooting smoke out of the corner of his mouth like a pistol. The sound of an overhead light buzzing dimly is the only sound accompanying the scene for a bit, until Delikado hums a random tune and mumbles, almost drunkenly, to himself.

Boss Delikado: Cripple. Delikado’s lil cripple boy. Lil crippled drummer boy, playing Delikado’s praises each time you limp your wimpy ass on-camera. Oh c’mon, now, don’t be bashful, have some humility, ADORE your Cuban for his Bawsely favors—I MADE YOU! Fucker…Ya got no balls, I see right through you in your little episode, I know you better than you know yourself, ese! We’re like BROTHERS! I see…I see you wanna be me, you want Delikado to acknowledge you, sing YOUR praises for once. Well sing my praises a little louder, and I’ll think about it…pssssht…

Delikado snickers dryly as he closes his bloodshot eyes and scratches his neck, around the spot where he was bitten by a rabid bunny rabbit late last year. A growl, a snarl, passes through Da Bawse.

Boss Delikado: On your knees, Delikado know it hurts you, amigo, but you got no CHOICE in it—I AM THE BAWSE, King of Time and Space and All That Jazz, and when I say you bow, you bow…or you stand there and let me kick your tongue into your BUTTHOLE! Oww...heehee…heeheeheeeheeheheheheheheeeee….YOU MAD BRO?!

Delikado breaks out into a giggle-fit and shakes his head violently as he continues to scratch his neck. As he grits his teeth, a small amount of saliva dribbles down his chin and into his lap. Another growl.

Boss Delikado: You must be mad, bro. You…you take me on again, all this time? We done it a million…million times, this fight, you and me, and each time we both come away with whatever. I beat you, you beat me, we beat each other, and now—heeeheehheeeeeee…YAH….ya pasty white cock….SUUUUCKERRRRRR….Overdrive title shot, between us…win goes on for Marky….Marky Mark Moooooooooaniaaaaa…

The Cuban disorients himself with continued giggles before he kicks his leg forward aggressively, almost like a tic or a reaction to something; more drooling to the point of slobbering like a dog occurs.

Boss Delikado: Ohhhhh Kurty, my baby booooy, you are in SO much agony. Lemme sing you a song……..ok, I don’t know no songs, cept this one…..Lalalalaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…that help your leg any, bro? It ain’t no oxy, ain’t no Chris Hart murdering cure…but it’s my voice, my voice that rings loud…loud and proud and gets shit done, gets people working up and gets me a win ‘n SHIT. Yeaaaaaah, I wouldn’t change nothing tween us, boy, Delikado will tell you what. WAH-POW, I made you go off that table and into that pile of tables, destroyed your leg and kick-started an entire career.

A soft sigh escapes the numb, restless Delikado as he lowers his head.

Boss Delikado: Fuckin’ hell, that was back in what, 06? 07? Long time since I……you…leg thingy. Yeah sir, I changed your whole life with that one. You got the people’s love, you used it for all it was worth, then you got crazy with the woman beating and the rehab and rehabilitating, then you got MARRIED out of all things, took you a bride and a whole new change of the self, and the return to glory as you make a team with yo boy sidekick—yo kick in the side, Crissy Hart. Then there was APW, basically the same…only now ya SUPER crazy ‘n shit. Ya gone to the “DARK SIDE” they say, well Delikado won’t be knowing anything bout that. All I know is I made you, but I didn’t get much made outta my Deli-self for that one, no sir, nuh-uh. I had to WORK for my shit, my Deli Tee Vee and garbage, my ol preggo girlfriend, another kid in addition to one I got. Hell, you want ‘em……..take ‘em up your ass, BUCKO! ASS IN HELL! Nobody gets nothing of Delikado’s, less Delikado himself says different, son…

Delikado reaches for his cigar. He takes a puff, only for the cigar to dissolve into ash between his fingers and to the floor of the Laundromat.

Boss Delikado: Gah. Sad day. Guess that only means it can go up for Delikado though. You get in Delikado’s way again, Noble, especially with a title shot on the line, Delikado will break your other leg, make ya a paralegal…or a pair-a-sneakers…or whatever word it is I want that I can’t find… Hehehehe, nobody stopping Delikado. Drink to that………I will. To me, the next Overdrive Champion over a broken Noble.

With sweat on his face and a dry swallowing sound, Delikado lifts his empty hand up like he’s holding something, a champagne bottle perhaps, and motions like he’s drinking with his mouth widely opened. The Laundromat lights buzz overhead, until one of them flickers, snapping Delikado out of his “drinking trance”. The Cuban immediately begins to panic as he “checks” the “bottle” in his empty hand, trying to find champagne that isn’t there. A spike of anxiety hits the Cuban like a lightning bolt.

Boss Delikado: Kuuuurt, noooooo! Quit stopping Delikado! QUIT IT! GIMME MAH CHAMPAGNE BACK!!

Delikado begins to thrash on the floor, kicking and panicking.

Boss Delikado: NO! NO! HE’S GONNA KILL DELIKADO NOW TOO! HE GONNA KILL DELIKADO FOR WHAT HE DONE TO HIS LEG!! OH JESUS!

Delikado lifts himself up and rushes right into a washing machine; the impact sends him plummeting to the floor. He gets up again and repeats the same action, crashing into the dryer across the aisle.

Boss Delikado: Help Delikado, wrestling gods! He’s begging, pleading, GROVELING! Don’t make me fight Noble again! You all know Delikado wants the Overdrive title, honest he does, but that lunatic Noble’s---he’s out for blood, and you can’t let Delikado be the sacrifice that donates his blood! I’m too young, so much to live for!!

He crawls almost pathetically over to an empty steel chair and curls up before it.

Boss Delikado: Kind sir! Or madam, I dunno, your hair is confusing—DON’T MATTER, HELP ME!

He looks up to the chair, and then glides his eyes across the Laundromat, becoming more upset.

Boss Delikado: Come on, bro! Not cool! Fine! SCREW YOU!

Delikado grabs the chair and tosses it into a shelf, knocking over a bunch of laundry detergents. One of them is punctured by the chair’s impact and spills out detergent onto the floor. Delikado walks forward, only to slip and fall to the floor yet again. Amidst the sticky detergent, Delikado stares up into the sky.

Boss Delikado: Oh no…no…NO! NOBLE, QUIT IT!

Delikado rolls over onto his stomach and crawls away, batting a bottle of detergent out of his way.

Boss Delikado: Bottle, go call for help!

Breathing quickly and shortly, the sticky Cuban crawls around the Laundromat and hides behind a washing machine. The crazy little man is actually beginning to sob now as he hides, making himself as small as possible so that “Kurt Noble” won’t hopefully see or get him.

Boss Delikado: Pleaaaase! Pleaaaaaaaaase! Delikado wants to go home! He doesn’t wanna play anymore, Mommy! Anyone but Noble! Anyone but Noble and Nick Watson! For entirely opposite reasons—nooooooooo*sobs*

Delikado dares a glance over the washing machine and then pops his head down with a frightened yelp. Sweating, crying, and smelling like Tide, the Cuban glances up the sky again.

Boss Delikado: Delikado knows…he knows what this is, Wrestling Fates. You’re putting Delikado in his place for all the bad shit he’s done over the centuries! You’re making Delikado hurt and suffer so that he’ll change! Judgment Day’s here for Delikado, ain’t it? Staring with Noble, right as there’s an Overdrive title shot on the line! So cruel, but what punishment ISN’T?! Oh Delikado must be worser than he realizes if you’re putting him through THIS! Give me time, don’t let Delikado be killed off now, Wrestling Fates, PLEASE! I’ll…I’ll make you feel good! Just let Delikado off the hook this one time, let him live, and he’ll…….he’ll suck your—

?: His punishment must be more…

The voice echoes around Delikado, who looks around with wide, rabid eyes, as drool glistens his lower jaw.

Boss Delikado: “Severe?”

?: No. Painful.

With a wisp of happy powder and sparkles, a mini explosion occurs across from Delikado atop a countertop, and the Overdrive Championship, its eyes bluer and bulging more than ever, appears.

Boss Delikado: Title! You’ve come back to Delikado! At long last!

Overdrive Championship: Rawr. Even Mark Mania’s treatment of my being in his reign cannot squelch my breathing. I live still, and so shall you.

Boss Delikado: But…But Nob—

The Overdrive Championship flies across the aisle and smacks Delikado with his strap.

Overdrive Championship: Never mind that FOOL, and cease with begging for aid from the fates! They have no power over you! No one does! Nobody puts Delikado in a corner! You are your own, a timeless classic, a song that rings for the ages, and you will consume the infidels who speaks otherwise!

The slap and pep talk seem to work as Delikado’s once dark eyes come alive with reassurance.

Boss Delikado: Y…You’re right, Title! Eff all that noise Delikado made before! Non-canon, bro! And while we’re at it, screw that plastic-jaw fake-crazy cripple Noble and all he’s trying to impress upon me! Delikado’s never feared Kurt before, even when he was in his prime, so why the hell should Delikado fear him NOW?! HE AIN’T GOT SHIT ON MY SWAG!! I AM THE PO-LICE! I’LL MAKE HIM FEAR *ME* ONCE AGAIN!! ALL OF EM, THE ENTIRE APW WON’T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT DELIKADO LETTING THEM SLEEP NICE AND COZY!! EVERYONE WILL BE SCARED OF *ME* WHEN THIS IS OVER!!!

Delikado, foaming the mouth from the rabies coursing in his veins, stands up and hobbles across the Laundromat floor. His eyes burn brightly and intensely as he snarls, the Overdrive Championship bobs gaily back and forth with its cartoonishly big eyes.

Boss Delikado: Delikado. Will. Consume. All.

He makes it back to where the detergent spilled out and slumps into it purposely. He proceeds to roll onto his back and begin to make a snow angel as the foamy liquid builds around him. The Overdrive Championship giggles above like a shiny angel of gold.

Overdrive Championship: Yaaaaay! Death to the world of NOT-Delikado’s! Wir können nicht noch stehen, bis alle tot sind! Save me, Deli! You’re my only hope from Mark Mania! Destroy Noble and then them ALL! Es ist Zeit für Rache!

Delikado laughs insanely as he makes an angel in the foam on the ground. After he finishes, he stands up to admire his work, which has, by defeating all logic in the world because screw you, left only one thing in the foam, spelt out:

LIKE A BAWSE!

Boss Delikado: YEAH!

With an ominous growl and twitching form, Delikado stumbles out of the Laundromat, through the hole in the glass door he made to enter, and wanders off into the darkness with the hallucinated Overdrive Championship on his shoulder whispering dark secrets to his corrupted brain…

(o)(o)(o)(o)(o)(o)

The Carnival[/u]

We fade in to four individuals and a grizzly bear in a hat sitting in what appears to be an interrogation room ripped straight out of “24”. It’s the same people who appeared to question Deli Tee Vee’s occupation of the carnival a while back, before Survive and Conquer. There’s the apparent ringleader, a fat man with a twirled moustache; there’s a lizard man with a nametag reading “Joey” on it; there’s a mime; and lastly there’s a female midget, because every respectable carnival has a midget.

Sofia Monzón: And just WHY the hell should I trust you…?

The sound of a whip cracking is heard, sending a flinch through the four carnies in the room. From the shadows of the room, Sofia emerges, her left arm in a sling, likely a badge of honor (or shame, depending on your life outlook) from her six minute participation in the Survive and Conquer. Her healthy right hand grips the whip tightly as she creeps methodically around the four seated carnies and their giant bear in a hat.

Edger G. Gallagher: I’m telling you, you shrew! I am Edger G. Gallagher, owner of this fine establishment that you ruffians have overturned and made your “gang whore crack hideout” or whatever!

Sofia: Huh.

Edger: Why are you acting like you don’t know that?! I’ve been telling you the same thing for three weeks now! In fact, why are we recapping this in such a manner, and for what reason should I or my people still be content with putting up with all this?! Shouldn’t there have been some advancement by now?!

Joey the Lizardman: But bosssssssss, their bisssscuitsssss isss sssssoooo gooood!

Edger: I realize that, but I—

Sofia: Shut up and eat your biscuit.

Sofia tosses a biscuit to Edger, who greedily wolfs it down.

Edger: Mmmm! Jeez-o-lu, how are these SO delicious and capable of keeping us in narrative limbo for three weeks?!

Sofia glares at the ringleader before glancing at the other carnies. They’re all reasonably tolerable in their silence. As Edger finishes off his biscuit, he dabs his mouth with a handkerchief.

Edger: Speaking of limbo, how’s that doctor man of yours doing? He seemed pretty set for the afterlife when we saw him last.

Sofia: He’s fine.

Edger: And what happened?

Sofia grimaces silently before responding.

Sofia: My………”Boss”….broke both of his legs. Well, “destroyed” is the more fitting term actually. Now he’s in a coma and we don’t have any real means to go about helping him.

Midge the Midget: Aww, I’m so sor—

Sofia: Shut up. Now…you people, I don’t see any reason to hurt you, but you need to know now that the issue of whether this carnival actually belongs to you or not is at this point irrelevant. As of right now, we’re content with letting you four work here, help us out in fixing the place up. But if you prod the issue about ownership any further, then there WILL be trouble.

Edger: Who ARE you people??

Lizardman: Yesssssss, who isss you be?

Boss Delikado: We’re the guys who actually COUNT, bitch.

Delikado’s voice rings out over an intercom above them.

Boss Delikado: Sofia, war-room.

Sofia: I’m in the process of—

Boss Delikado: NNNNNOOOOOOOW!

Sofia pauses before letting out a frustrated exhale and walking out the door. She rolls up her whip at her back as she exits.

Sofia: You’re free to stretch your legs, but don’t go far.

The carnies look at each other in confusion as to what to do. The camera focuses in particular on Edger, the carnival’s “former” owner, who looks understandably bitter, before we then follow Sofia as she treks through the modestly cleaned up carnival grounds. As she makes her way past several carnival rides, a stray pirate mascot wanders her way. Casually, Sofia whips the mascot in the head, and then wraps the whip around their throat, headbutting the person before kicking them to the ground with finality. She steps over the mascot’s body, pulling up a walkie-talkie.

Sofia: Ron, clean-up out by the go-karts.

Ron Reynolds: *on walkie-talkie* Got it.

A pick-up truck rolls into view, driven by Ron Reynolds, to pick up the downed mascot, as Sofia heads for the Deli Tee Vee HQ Building (I’ll give you a hint how you know: the building has “Deli Tee Vee HQ Building” written on it in spray-paint). Miss Monzón goes up the steps of this former rest center and enters through the double doors. She doesn’t get far before spotting a nursing station currently occupied by the comatose Dr. Apartment on a bed and some of the other DTV staff members nearby.

Sofia: He any different?

Lily Smith, who’s in the process of putting new bandages on the doctor’s wrecked legs, shakes her head.

Lily Smith: Nope. But hey…

Lily holds up a can of spray.

Lily: I found some hairspray. Cinnamon flavor, the doc’s favorite. Maybe…You think the smell will linger in his head and keep him from slipping further?

Jet Carrington: That’s stupid.

Lily snaps her head angrily toward Jet, who’s reading a Playboy on a windowsill. Yes, READING it.

Lily: You’re stupid!

Before Sofia can respond, something catches her eye. She turns to see that the carnies have entered the building and are moving about cautiously. Sofia sighs irritably.

Sofia: Out of all the areas they want to stretch their legs in…

Sofia walks away from the nursing station when the intercom system blares out again.

Boss Delikado: SOFIA! WAR-ROOM! EHHHHH!!

Sofia rolls her eyes as the irritableness builds. She moves toward the staircase leading up to the “war-room” hen Edger speaks out to her.

Edger: Ah, my office is up there. Would you grant me the courtesy of letting my eyes look upon it?

Sofia stops and leans on the rail as she faces the carnies.

Sofia: No offices up here anymore. Just one giant “war-room.” But you’re free to set up your office elsewhere. A change of scenery might actually do the brain some good, change it up a bit, you know? The cubicle over the dumpsters looks nifty, and it’s a bit too “Donald Judd” for my taste. It’s yours.

Edger: May I at least take a gander at just the sort of activity you are all unleashing upon my property then?

Sofia: That sounds like an awful wordy version of asking if you can snoop around…and the answer is no.

Edger takes a step forward threateningly, causing Sofia to grip her whip, and the hat-wearing grizzly, seemingly sensing the trouble at hand, huffs softly and scratches his claws on the ground. The curly-moustache man pauses.

Edger: Well then. You’re right, Sha-Nay-Nay…she’s clearly not worth our efforts. Maybe we’ll go pay our respects to your doctor friend. After all, he WAS injured on *OUR* property…

Lizardman: Bossssss, maybe we sssshould jussssst take leave, call day?

Edger: We shall do no such thing! I’ll only leave what’s mine when it’s taken from my long deceased hands!

Ron Reynolds: On behalf of Deli Tee Vee, you’ll leave and like it.

With this announcement, Ron Reynolds enters the room through a different door, carrying what appears to be the wooden pegleg of the pirate mascot Sofia assaulted, only now he wields it like a weapon. This only fuels Edger’s anger we enter a tense stand-off.

Edger: Rapscallions! My name is on the deed, on the carnival NAME itself! No rights do you wield! No shame do you possess!

Boss Delikado: Delikado wipes his ass with your name, bitch!

Standing at the top of the stairs is Boss Delikado, chewing on a cigar and grinning in his cool fashion once more. The rest of the Deli Tee Vee team has poked their heads out now at the commotion, while Delikado descends the stairs.

Boss Delikado: You buncha motherfuckers. Can’t a man, however more Bawse and superior to you he might be, have a little quiet time to prepare himself for battle without all your whining and bitching and general ugliness?

Edger: Who are you? What authority do you have to speak of me in such crudeness?

Boss Delikado: Uhhh, pretty sure it’s “Boss” Delikado for a reason: I’m the Boss. That’s all the authority I need, all that I’ll EVER need. This is my world, something you, among countless others, don’t seem to be able to get.

Edger squints in confusion at first, before a small smile passes his lips and he nods.

Edger: Ahhhh, I see. You’re a straight-nutter, a crazed one. You’re out of touch with reality. Is my carnival your asylum then?

Boss Delikado: Pfft, like hell. Delikado would never go to the little brother show. Overdrive forever, what-what!

Edger: …Beg pardon? Gah, it matters not. What does matter is you take your mindless self, and all of your grunts here, off the premises before I alert the proper authorities to have you removed.

Delikado stops at Sofia’s side and the two have a quick exchange before the Cuban returns focus to Edger.

Boss Delikado: Talk about delusional. You remind me of a friend Delikado has, well, RIVAL is the best term, because “enemy” implies he could be a threat to me. You look refined, or at least Delikado will say you do, and so now he’ll run the name of his rival by you, a man of former refinement, see if perhaps you are aware of him: Kurt Noble.

Edger: No. I have no knowledge of the name.

Boss Delikado: Hmph. Oh well. Still…it won’t stop Delikado from breaking out his secret weapon. MICROPHONE!

A microphone suddenly descends from the ceiling on a string, into Delikado’s hand. He takes it and everything goes black.

DROP A BEAT, YO!

Noble One! You know me, and Delikado knows you!
I’m Da Bawse, you’re crippled crazy face!
Delikado’s reign and rule has just begun!
Kicking lots of ass and sending bitches like you to space!

April 8, 1979

We see a baby being born, crying as the doctor holds him up.

When you were just being born, Kurty boy
Delikado was basking in the fallout of the Sverdlovsk anthrax leak
Hell of a party, hell of a day
Your motto would be “We Believe”, mine’s just “Do it YOUR way!”

Delikado, younger and dressed as a Soviet Russian, smokes a cigar as anthrax blows around him. He turns to the camera and flips it the bird before we fade to black.

Overdrive is mine, the APW is mine
You’re free to serve in it under me
Just know your place, reside in it with a smile
And know that every match against me ends in my getting that 1-2-3

Archive footage shows Delikado holding the Overdrive championship into the air, followed by a montage of him basking in his triumphs. This footage blends into Noble in shame as Amy Noble goes to Chris Hart, he loses the Undisputed title, and generally becomes a stigma across the company.

May 11, 1996

While you were getting stood up on prom
Delikado no-sold ValuJet Flight 592 in Miami
Charge me for peanuts, Deli messed up their oxy tanks
All you could do was sob the blues, you mighta got a Grammy

A teenaged Noble sits on the stairs outside the prom crying in his bright-blue tuxedo. Meanwhile Delikado, still young and good looking, climbs out of the Everglades and coolly fixes his tie as a plane sinks in the background. An alligator lunges for the Cuban, who promptly kicks it in the face with the Last Call to Cuba!

March 26, 2000

I got Vlady Putin elected, bitches
Delikado knows how to give the people what they want
Like the Russkies wanted their badass Prez, people seek Deli as Overdrive champ
All the while, Kurt, you were being a loser posing in mirrors, working on your taunt

Delikado, STILL young and awesome, stands side-by-side with Vladimir Putin, who looks worried as Delikado stuffs the ballet and then shushes the Russian reassuringly. Vlad laughs and the two drink vodka. We see Kurt Noble, somewhat scruffy, looking at himself in the mirror. He gives a thumbs up before the mirror cracks to his surprise.

We now fade to Delikado standing before the camera, dressed like a gangster.

Today

Battle’s on, Kurt, and you can believe this one’s mine
Though we might be similar, we really ain’t
Because Delikado’s still reaching new heights, with nothing in his way
You’re one phonecall away from guys in white suits, locking you up in forcible restraint

Boss Delikado: Boom.

EXPLOSION! CUT TO BLACK![/font][/size]