Square Pedro Ludovico
It’s the night after Chaos 35, and lo and behold the Masters of the Moscowverse are celebrating in style in the heart of the square. Balloons in Soviet red and yellow are tied to a set of tables, all lined up with what appears to be a small buffet. Placed upon one table are plates and plates of ribs, a skeleton’s favorite snack; on another, two large bowls each of potato and macaroni salad; a third table houses a big bowl of punch with rainbow sherbert dumped in for extra flavor; and on the remaining table, all the plates and cutlery needed to handle such a feast as this.
One might look upon this setup, in the middle of one of the busiest parts of Goiania, and say ‘gee whiz, that sure is an odd party in Brazil’…and one would be absolutely correct, as the crowd surrounding this little feast are not here to partake but to silently (and not so silently) judge the duo sitting in the middle of it all, while Kenny Freeman and Randall Schwartz stare at the onlookers with their own sense of amazement, something clarified by the Entertainer as he nudges Kenny to get his attention.
“What are they staring at?”
“Randall, you silly, silly goose,” replies Kenny with a chuckle as he shakes his head. “You’re the one who suggested a Fourth of July style banquet in the middle of a big ol’ Brazilian city, where everyone here thinks we’re just celebrating a Monday. This is on you, my guy.”
Kenny quickly catches one of the passersby approaching a table. Kenny smiles with a wave, looking forward to the conversation…but his smile is quickly turned into a look of horror as the young woman snatches the bowl of potato salad, making great haste to escape with the dish before anyone can stop her…though, to be fair, the crowd is so confused by all of this that no one is really paying her any mind. No one, that is, except a dejected Kenny who starts to give chase before realizing the woman has gotten too far to be reprimanded. With a heavy sigh, Kenny walks back muttering to himself.
“Damn it all, that was my one tie to the Motherland today,” Kenny states, taking a seat on a stool next to Randall before turning his attention to the Entertainer. “Well, at least we’ve got the rest of our food. How much longer are we waiting before we can eat?”
Randall simply replies to this with a shrug of the shoulders at first, before checking his phone.
“I tried to send a Jab about it but to no avail, lack of connection or something. I’m hoping Bobby Dean got my text and will show up, he’s always good for a meal isn’t he?”
“You sure as hell did not text Bobby Dean,” retorts Kenny with a snicker (but not the candy bar). “The reception here is so bad, if you couldn’t get a Jab out you sure as hell couldn’t text.”
Before Randall can respond to that statement, the pair are interrupted by a swirling blue light coming into focus…which quickly opens a portal just outside the location of the banquet.
“Oh shit, it’s happening again,” mutters Kenny with a smirk on his face, a surprisingly appropriate response given who is stepping out of the portal to greet the pair…a trio of like-minded (and like-faced) individuals, all looking a bit like our pal Kenny Freeman. Randall, who barely remembers the last time this group was around, just looks on in confusion before nudging Kenny-PRIME again.
“Who the hell are these guys?”
“Hello, Kenny,” states a short and stout version of the man we know and love, waving his pudgy little hand in greeting as the trio scooch past the tables to approach their friend. The rotund Freeman looks to a still-confused Randall with a smile and another wave. “And good day to you as well, Randall. I see you’ve forgotten our previous encounter, so allow me to reintroduce ourselves. We are…the Council of Concerned Kennys.”
This, naturally, gets an immediate chortle from the Entertainer, who picks up on the innuendo (intentional or otherwise) way quicker than the man who uttered it…but as soon as he does, he lets out a sigh of regret.
“Please don’t say it, Ra–”
“The COCK, ya say?”
The trio and Kenny-PRIME all let out a sigh at this, raising their hand to their face. When the moment has had a chance to pass, Kenny-PRIME is quick to pivot away from the silliness that just transpired.
“What brings you out to Brazil, fellas?”
“Well, we heard the call from across the multiverse that there was free food,” replies the pudgy Freeman, motioning toward the buffet tables. “But also, we were made aware of a multiversal situation that requires a quick convening of the Council.”
“In other words, I’ve got a match coming up and y’all wanted to make sure I knew about it sooner rather than later,” states Kenny-PRIME matter-of-factly, walking over to the table to grab himself a plate of food. After all, this seemed as good a time as any to chow down. The trio of Kennys watch on, with the pudgy one nodding in agreement to the statement made.
“Correct. Something about the reception here being dodgy made us realize you needed to know about the absolute mess you are about to find yourself in.”
This causes Kenny to set his plate back down on the table, looking back at the trio with a tilted head.
“The hell you mean by that? I’m not…double-booked, am I?”
The trio seems uneasy about responding to this, looking at each other in stone cold silence…much to the chagrin of Kenny-PRIME.
“Nah, don’t play that game. If I’m supposed to be in two places at once, I have a right to know!”
“Well…” the pudgy Kenny replies, trailing off with his voice until a glare from Kenny-PRIME gets him back on track. “I’m sure you’re already aware of your travel plans regarding the PWA tag title tournament, which by the way, good for you…but you are also needed in Washington, D.C. for ReVival 31.”
Kenny-PRIME just shakes his head at this, grabbing a set of ribs to put on his plate.
“The hell I am, buddy. I told Randall and I told both Ivan and Alexei we were gonna win those damn PWA belts and bring them home to the Motherland. I don’t have time to stress about…who am I supposed to be facing at ReV 31?”
“Right, I don’t have time to be stressing about Kohime Mori in Washington. If we’re gonna take those PWA titles and make them the Grand Championship of the Multiverse, we need to focus on that…so, let’s draw up a game plan, shall we? I’m sure I can get one of you concerned Kennys to take my place in Washington next weekend, right?”
The trio looks at each other in confusion for a moment, but eventually nod in agreement before Porky Freeman finally responds once more.
“I’m sure we can arrange something.”
“Good,” replies Kenny-PRIME with a smile as he piles some macaroni salad onto his plate. “It’s settled, then. Go ahead and grab yourselves some plates, I don’t want this food going to waste.”
The trio nod in agreement once again before heading to the buffet, each grabbing their own plate of food as we fade to black.