
OOO RED
The camera cuts back to the blackened locker room where The Anglo Luchador and Craig Hamburgers have been trapped for quite some time.
Craig Hamburgers: we gotta get out of here mr. luchador you have a match soon and i don’t like this place i can’t even seeeeeeeee.
The luchador audibly sighs.
TAL: Yeah, but honestly, my match is the least of my concerns at the moment. This was supposed to be your night and that’s quickly going out the window.
As he has been doing for the last 20 minutes, the luchador again bangs on the door in futility.
TAL: This is a mess. I’m sorry, kid. I really fu, uh, screwed up.
Craig Hamburgers: don’t worry mr. luchador you’re going to save the day and i’m going to tell all my friends at school and my cousin chris how mr. luchador saved the day with his punches and his karate fighting yaaaaaaa
TAL: Yeah, I guess so.
Just then, lights burst on in the locker room, but they’re not the regular lights. Creepy red lights make the space appear like more of a darkroom than a wrestling locker room. Both Craig and the luchador look around in shock.
Craig Hamburgers: ooo red
The luchador catches something out of the corner of his eye. He shoots around to find that they are not alone in the locker room. Standing behind Craig is a massive hunk of a man wearing a rubber mask of Mikhail Gorbechev, the kind of style you’d have seen in Point Break or the music video for “Land of Confusion.” The luchador startles back before composing himself.
TAL: CRAIG! BEHIND YOU!
The luchador leaps forward between Craig and the huge man, taking care not to ram into the young’un and in the process knocking over a trashcan and banging his knee on the fixed-position bench. He grits his teeth at the stinging pain but makes no other indication of his clumsiness in the moment. His gaze intensifies at the threateningly imposing figure. The “fight” portion of his fight-or-flight instinct makes him want to throw down, but his superego keeps reminding him that there was a kid behind him. Brawling in a locked up enclosed space would only put Craig in danger. The luchador snarls instead.
TAL: You leave this kid alone, you hear?
The figure stands stoically, audibly inhaling and exhaling through the noseholes in his rubber mask.
TAL: Are you going to acknowledge what I just said? Leave him alone.
At that moment, the red lights shut off and the main lights in the locker room flicker back on as if nothing happened. The locker room door flies open, and in walks one Arthur Pleasant.
Arthur Pleasant: Hurt him? A child?! Please. What do you think I am, a bully? Like you?
TAL: What the heck…
Pleasant cackles, cutting off the luchador.
Arthur Pleasant: You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Such is life, my friend. You see… hehe… we were practicing for a little interpretive theater on the fall of the Soviet Union for our new friend Ivan Stanislav! I mean, do you just barge into any room you want with a…
Pleasant licks his lips like a lion who took a bite out of a gazelle’s hide. Craig Hamburgers looks like he’s going to pass out from fear.
Arthur Pleasant: …human shield? How silly of me, of COURSE you would! You’re a timid creature, scared of the world around you, needing to lash out at the weak so you can feel big and strong.
The luchador rolls his eyes.
Arthur Pleasant: But now that this charade is over? You can stop pretending to be big and strong in front of this child for show. We need to find a place unsullied by your presence to practice our show now. Let’s go, Yuri. We should leave this maniac to his self-serving machinations.
Yuri takes off the mask. There is no emotion there, even through their wild charade. Just… a void. The luchador’s shoulders sink, and his sigh could be heard all the way at Argyle position.
TAL: C’mon, kid, let’s take you back to your parents.
Craig Hamburgers: (obviously shaken) w-w-what about the rest of the tour mr. luchador?
TAL: Yeah, well, tour’s canceled. You’re not safe here. I was wrong. I’m sorry.
The hurt settles in on young Craig’s face as the luchador stands up straight again to lead him back to where his parents are seated for the show.
Craig Hamburgers: it’s ok, don’t worry, i’ll still tell my friends that you saved the day with karate fighting.
TAL: You’re a good kid. C’mon.
They walk out of the locker room as the camera cuts to a man with an impeccable skincare routine.