Road to Mayhem (In More Ways Than One)

[Delikado]

Recently…

And finally, most recently…to defy and enrage us, indeed to PISS US OFF, he took it upon himself…

The scene opens to the final moments from one week ago, with Pope Delikado XXX sitting in his papal throne in the Council Chamber of Chocolate within The Carnival. The Deli Tee Vee staff sits at a large table facing him, listening to the words and registering what they mean as the Cuban Pope’s voice raises with pent-up anger at each syllable as he addresses the actions of “he”—who is John Charles Noble II of the Noble Clan.

Pope Delikado XXX: …to strike and send to the next dimension the man of law who protected us from injustices in law and order, Manny Valdez, a man we all called a friend.

Chatter passes among the table as Sofia Monzón rolls her eyes and mumbles under her breath. Cue dramatic close-up to the Cuban’s face.

Pope Delikado XXX: We are at war. To be at anything else might as well mean we are at our knees in the face of this GROSS action, and this Pope BENDS TO NOBODY! The Noble Clan, indeed ALL outside this Wrestling Papacy, bends to US, and they kiss the RING!

Cardinal Sniper: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! MAKE ‘EM KISS IT AND PRAISE THE WRASSLIN JESUUUUUUUS, CUBAN HOLINEEEEEEESS!

The sudden outburst by DTV’s newest associate, the ring announcer to the Wrestling Pope, Cardinal Sniper, is met with more discussion by the original gang as the eccentric Cardinal pumps his fist into the air and kisses his own rings.

Ron Reynolds: I see what you’re saying, Deli, but I—

SMACK!

Ron Reynolds is slapped right out of his chair and to the floor by Cardinal Sniper, who scowls down at him afterwards.

Cardinal Sniper: Woman, you did NOT just call His Cuban Holiness after a place that serves meats to the unwashed masses! Now get it up and pray for forgiveness, or I swear to the Wrestling God, even before the pristine eyes of the Cuban Holy Father, that I will slap you more, and it’ll leave a mark SO red, you might as well be a Indian “Red Man”.

Jet Carrington: What does that even MEAN?

Cardinal Sniper: IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT IT MEANS!!

Pope Delikado XXX: It really doesn’t, but if you wouldn’t mind, Cardinal, lift the borderline heretic Reynolds back into his chair and let words be spoken freely, for at this table everyone gets a fair share of screen-time.

Jet Carrington: Is that why you’re sitting AWAY from the table and have gotten more screen-time than anybody?

Pope Delikado XXX: Yes. Wait…well, uh...please consult the cannon law book for any questions regarding speaking and screen-time, Carrington, as this is not Q&A Time. That comes after The Voice.

Two random no-name staffers drag a cannon into the room and set it down next to Jet, who eyeballs it strangely as it is aimed directly at him… Meanwhile, Ron Reynolds is back in his chair and is rubbing the holy agony out of his jaw from Cardinal Sniper’s slap.

Ron Reynolds: Gah…just….ouch…Anyway….I’m in solid agreement mode with you regarding combatting and censuring the Noble Clan for what they did to Manny, especially since *I* was the one who told you about the chatter going on among them weeks ago!

Sofia Monzón: I was the one who found all that out and told you…

Ron sheepishly smirks and nudges Sofia playfully.

Reynolds: Hey, c’mon, baby, what’s shared in pillow talk becomes a joint knowledge. One mind….one….body…..thing…c’mooooon…

Sofia looks revolted and pissed off as she folds her arms and looks the other way. Ron frowns but shakes off any concerns as he turns back to the Cuban Pope, who is twirling an unlit cigar.

Reynolds: But yeah, I brought it to your attention and it’s only NOW after we’re down a lawyer that you acknowledge my recommendations! Oh well, drama such as this IS good for ratings, I suppose…

Pope Delikado XXX: Shut up, Ron Reynolds………I’m sorry, that was rude. We’re still trying to purge the last shreds of our former “Bawse” personality. Alas, we require more thoughts. Host Rider, enter would you kindly?

A wolf howls and suddenly a figure emerges from the shadows covered in a heavy cloak, with the hood up over their face. Everyone in the room is silent as the person steps forward and lifts their hands up to pull back the hood, revealing a skull that is sprouting holy goodness from the top.

Moss Carrington: Wait, is that Ghost Rider…?

Jet Carrington: NO! CANNON LAW SAYS IT’S “HOST RIDER”! GET IT RIGHT!

Pope Delikado XXX: Silence! Now…Host Rider…

Host Rider: With Reynolds, I agree, Holiness. You are the instrument of the Wrestling Gods. You are the entitled one to all that is the defense of Goodness in Wrestling, and the Villainous Nobles invade and instill themselves where they are not wanted and do not deserve to reside. They, and all heretics like them in the APW lands, must be burned out before they doom us all to ruin.

Cardinal Sniper: WRESTLING GOD WILLS IT, YEAAAAAAH!!

Host Rider: Meet them with all our might, and the Noble Clan shall see in its existence an end before the beginning is even written.

Cardinal Sniper: YEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

The chatter among the original DTV gang is hesitant, but the Cuban Pope seems to be warming up more and more to engaging in battle with his foes. However, he pauses before turning to his crew.

Pope Delikado XXX: We sense the confidence rising, and yet we seek out the advice of one more person…our real-life sibling, Rasool ur Ra'ahmah bin Safooh an az-azzallat, "He who Flies with Bang".

A surprised gasp is heard from even the likes of Sofia as a second newcomer enters the scene. He is of Islamic heritage and in all black he stands in stark contrast to Pope Delikado, who just smiles in his red/white robes as he chews on his unlit cigar.

Pope Delikado XXX: Tell us, brother…what say you?

Delikado’s younger half-brother hangs his head and bows graciously after a few seconds of silence.

Rasool: My brother, Rasool says with concurrent faith that you and your crusaders have just cause to wage war against not just the Noble Clan, but also upon the entire Action Packed Wrestling dynasty. Give them all…a bang.

Delikado makes several random hand gestures like he’s blessing as he rises from his throne.

Pope Delikado XXX: Hallelujah with excellence! Let the season of battle be declared open upon the Nobles! See to it preparations are made, all of you, and we shall see you all in the morrow, for we now have stuff to do! SO MUCH STUFF!!!

The Cuban Pope smiles and makes more random hand gestures as jumps onto his trusty steed, First Lieutenant Daleatucuerpoalegriamacarena, and rides out of the room through his holy curtain to rapid applause…all from Cardinal Sniper. Off in the corner, as he could not get up the stairs to enter the council room due to his wheelchair, Dr. Apartment sits with an exceptionally worried expression. As the team breaks to go about its business, Delikado’s sibling Rasool walks by Apartment, and the good doctor rolls after the young Muslim.

Dr. Apartment: You can’t be serious about wanting your brother to go to war with the Noble Clan?

Rasool bends forward and places a hand upon Dr. Apartment’s perma-crippled leg.

Rasool: Aww, little crippled man so cute. It is wise to do as the “Cuban Pope” says around here, yes?

Dr. Apartment: But he’s still in recovery! His mind is not healthy and proper to make good decisions right now. I’m *still* trying to get him put on medical leave in the APW!

Rasool: You will find, gross little wheel-man, that all it takes is a little change of pace to make one healthy again. Rasool knows his brother better than all, and he will see that the right decisions are made. May the Wrestling Allah bless us. Goodbye, farewell.

Rasool lightly pats Dr. Apartment’s leg and walks away, leaving the wheelchair bound doctor to sit and ponder helplessly.

Dr. Apartment: Am I the only sane one left around here?!

ǂ ǂ ǂ

Some-Kinda-Something-Productions presents
B
-U T O P I A-
S
S

[/color]

Episode 42- "Road to Mayhem (In More Ways Than One)"

Hilton Hotel
Bogota, Colombia
Six Days Later…[/u]

Everyone who’s anyone loves a good mystery, but it takes an extra type of Good person to SOLVE mysteries. As one of the first decrees to this Wrestling Papacy in APW, we declare ourselves to be just the sort of Good Cuban Pope who can and will solve the greatest mysteries of this industry.

Pope Delikado stands on the balcony overlooking the amassing populace of Colombia. He is wearing his Pope-like attire and holds up his heavy sleeves.

Crowd: ¿Dónde está el Papa Francis? Nos dijeron que el Papa iba a venir a vernos hoy!

Pope Delikado XXX: People of Bogota, we cannot understand you, and therefore we retreat inside the holy Hilton! Bless you and Amen!

Insert random hand gestures before the Cuban Pope enters his hotel room, finding two half-naked women sprawled out on the large bed. The young women giggle at Delikado as he pulls a cigar from out of his papal hat and removes his robes. Only with the aid of the excellent camera work, with its smooth jumps and object placement, do we not see Delikado’s junk. His Cuban Holiness snickers.

Pope Delikado XXX: Ahhhhh women!

He now moves onto the bed with the half-naked women and lives up to the XXX in his name. They do stuff for THIRTY minutes, cuz that’s what I meant when I put it in there. Through a classy montage of sex and banging, the Cuban Pope’s words echo in the background.

Today marks a shining moment in the making for APW history—a colossal enterprise of astronomical correction in the Era of Badness that this great business currently has to accept “just because”. For the past few weeks, World Heavyweight Champion Michael Joshua Bonaparte Callahan has pushed his political office beyond the initial belief that he may well crumble upon first stepping foot on the hallowed grounds of Overdrive. Through the guidance of the Wrestling Devil, he has come to roost contently, putting his state before the Wrestling Church, A GRAVE SIN AT THAT! He believes it is sophistication and a new positive lease on life that allows his dominance, but it is only enormous quantities of Evil that flow through his skinny little veins. He has done nothing thus far to sweep away the advance of the Goodness our rebirth in the eyes of the Wrestling Gods has inspired, for we are an army strong despite being just one mortal soul out there in that ring! A Cool-sade the likes of which has never been felt before is what this road to Mayhem has instigated, and you can bow your head and say thanks in gratitude to the Wrestling Gods for paving the way for this Cuban Holy Warrior of the APW Wrestling Church to continue the fight against this Evil of Callahan and his consorts.

But that, children of the corny speeches, is another bull to be played out for another time. Now we are within the hemisphere of Colombia, resting on the throne of poon-tang—

Initially resting his head on the bare stomach of one of the young ladies, Delikado turns to the camera and winks cutely, as if to say “Yeah, I said it, what up?”, before he puts his head back down and time freezes.

We walk into the grand “cathedral” of our mission, the Estadio El Campín, and we come to find that it is our adoring congregation that picks and chooses the individual we are to engage in a trial of combativeness. Namely, these people are Johnny Rebel, Dan White, and Shadow, and much like last week’s trial of teammate alliance, there is a history to be found. The congregation of fans is offered a poll, and the winner we join in a clash that welcomes all of Colombia to Action Packed Wrestling. It is with the greatest honor that we grasp this chance and use its purpose to press onward to Mayhem, for it is an advantage and a build we recognize through defeating whomever the public decides, be it Rebel, Shadow, or White. We feel no fear, no anxiety, no negative-context emotions or feelings, for we are within hearing distance to our native land, and the heritage present is very much to our benefit! Viva la Colombia, Cuba’s Kind-of-Remote-Half-Cousin-Not-Reaaaaalllly!

Now the Pope lies on his back looking up at the ceiling as he has a woman on either side of him, gently stroking his pecks and enjoying his holy company. A glimmer is visible in the Cuban’s eyes as a small grin is plastered on his face.

The challengers in this poll are far and away when it comes to their differences. For Rebel, we used to call him “Boss”…well, WE never did personally, for at the time we were the only Bawse in this company, but both of these days are long gone. Now Rebel is “one of the guys” again. He is as vulnerable to the will of the Wrestling Gods as any. Last week we saw some of this potential vulnerability in his brief alliance with ourselves and Level One. What we saw, in a sense, was a man who, despite his recognition and legacy within the APW, gave little in his presence. If there was a word to describe what his brain did in the ring just one week ago, it would be…..”no-showed”. Johnny Rebel’s brain no-showed on us last week, and it is only by the sanctity of Goodness in myself, with aid from that roguish one Level, that victory was achieved. The pinfall in last week’s tag match was justifiably put to OUR credit. Now, this is not to discredit Level One, for he arrived and made his spot in the evening—and why should he do any less, for he seeks the same prize as us from Callahan: The World Heavyweight Championship! We will definitely do well to watch our former “partner” Level One should an additional poll choose the two of us to co-referee the “Champions Ball” later that same evening…he will be a crafty one, as no doubt the Wrestling Devil has some pull on his soul as well. Such Evil we have yet still to do away with in this APW!

But still, that is to come later. Just as we have come now—

The Holy Cuban Father winks smugly at the camera yet again, enjoying the little innuendo he’s got going as the women moan softly at his side.

--If it is to be Rebel the congregation chooses, then brain on or brain off, we will not allow his advancement to be had over our own, for we have been dictated to march on to Mayhem and liberate the World Championship from the mongrels! Rebel shall be defeated if the Wrestling Gods so choose to make him our trial, we refuse to fail, and we refuse to taste anything less than pristine Goodness done on the wrongs of this enterprise of Action Packed Wrestling! All we ask of Rebel is to take this as a blessing, our potential scrape to be, for in the closing bell of the opening bout, we plan to the fullest degree to raise our hands and make the sign of the REAL APW, thus marking the opening to a new and glorious chapter in this company’s history. Surely you, Jonathan Rebellious, deserve a bookmarked spot in that history book we seek to write, indeed the opening chapter! That is a spot worthy of your recognized status, no matter how lowly you might believe it makes you. You are, after all, just a mortal, and the things we do shall be initially lost on you, but you have all the time in the world to learn…forever in that opening chapter, and no further.

Is that…

Simply
F&*(*&&^*^*&^*&^&*^^&*in
Put
…For you?

The Pope kisses both of his sexual conquests on their forehead and rises up off the bed.

Pope Delikado XXX: You two should go back to your graduation now.

The girls nod softly and proceed to redress in their graduation robes as the Cuban Holy Father pulls on his heaviest robe and stands in front of the window, causing a bird that was flying by to get distracted from admiring the view and crash into a window, exploding on impact. Ignoring this, Pope Delikado pours himself a bottle of champagne from a second bottle and drinks it. The door shuts in the background as the ladies leave, and now His Cuban Holiness is by himself.

Another poll-foe of ours, Shadow, has made quite the ruckus as well recently. He is caught up in the Wrestling Devil’s whirlwind, though we do not consider him a proxy of that Evil’s power so much as he is a side-effect, or perhaps even a victim. We recount in our mind that we have history with him, history to our liking, as it kept Shadow in his place and positioned elsewhere to tear at his own strings, that string called Slade Craven. That episode revealed much to us even in our “Boss” persona, and we have come to only solidify what we believe about Shadow with his recent words and actions:

Shadow has fallen and he cannot get up. Ever.

He has transformed not into something to fear, but to be mocked and be regarded as an abhorred attempt at abandoned ancestry in revolution and system shock. He is no position to command authority, both in the ring and out of it…not even from himself. His status we do not see as high on the APW ladder, the Wrestling Gods themselves have and will continue to make it clear that he is not a divine figure. We defeated him once before, in a blind and admittedly wicked time of our existence, but now we are reborn as the Pope of APW, and our features, from physical to mental to emotional and to sexual—DEFINITELY to sexual—have been heightened to levels Shadow cannot comprehend, for as we have said, he has fallen and only through a proper guidance can he hope to return to any sort of glory. Alas, we already have taken a fitting amount of disciples under our wing, and this bird you cannot change with more feathers under its weird skeleton arm thing covered in fathers that are equally weird under a close examination…

Sorry…lost track of thought…birds are weird, yo. There’s one just lying here dead on our Hilton balcony. Oh well.

Shadow, we know you have come quite far into the shadows of your namesake since we last met, but FEAR NOT, for though we cannot guide you as of yet--because let us face FACTS that it will take MUCH more power to see you elevated into a good light and direction—if you are chosen by the congregation to be our tactical adversary this Thursday, we will nonetheless make it worth your while. The part you play will elevate our advancement to Mayhem and Callahan and the World Title, and maybe, just maybe if the Wrestling God wills it all to pass fittingly with the Wrestling Devil’s defeat and our blessing of being crowned the new Champion…we may offer you an indulgence. But that is only if you impress us, and that chance to impress only comes with you being named our opponent on this upcoming Overdrive. To put the truth out there, we do not expect you to be nominated to face us, but then again, if you were to ask us one month ago if we would be reborn as we are and if we would be a holy instrument of the Wrestling Gods to purify the APW, we would likely laugh heartily and smack your face off with our foot.

Now…now we laugh holy-like, make the sign of the REAL APWers, and we STILL smack your face off with our foot. Some things never change, and some mysteries are only a mystery in regards to WHEN they will occur…or something. We don’t know, there’s a quote or story in there someplace. As the aura of light shines upon us now, through our champagne bottle, we redress ourselves in our Wrestling Papal attire, and we set out for the arena to bless it for the journey ahead.

Oh yes, and there’s also Dan White in the poll, but the Wrestling Gods texted us earlier and said there was “No effing way”. Sorry, Danny, but we will say a prayer or something for you when our work is done. Thank you, and good morrow, World!

The scene cuts to black as Pope Delikado turns and winks yet again. Smug bastard.[/font][/size]