Post by SANGRE on Nov 18, 2022 3:30:54 GMT
“Did you guys have any of the food at catering?
The cameraman says to his crew as they scratch their heads outside of a port-o-potty in the convention area of Treasure Island. They shake their heads in unison. One crew member specifies that he ate at a POLLO Fiesta Truck™ and cites it as his discomfort, albeit expected. The crew around him subtilty back away. The cameraman whispers to his cohorts:
“Should I say something while he’s in there?”
The crew shrugs, signaling they’ve never interrupted the subject of a reality series while he’s violently emptying his guts before. The cameraman creeps over to the port-o-john and gently calls out:
“H-h-hey. MEZA? Are you okayyy?”
Like an imprisoned science fiction monster, a distorted roar echoes from within. MEZA kicks open the blue, flimsy door and reveals his zombie-like appearance to the film crew. They shy away from staring directly at him. MEZA’s stomach makes a grumble that sounds like a nuclear detonation. He bends over and mutters:
“I feel....great. I’m not gonna delay filming.”
The cameraman quietly motions for his production assistant to grab medical before turning the camera back on the subject. MEZA painfully stands upright without making a peep. He uses his sweatshirt sleeve to absorb the perspiration quickly forming on his head. He closes his eyes to focus on pain management. The beads of sweat drip from his brow and make one final attempt to hang on his lip. He’s unwilfully reminded of how Luke Marshall’s spit hung from his lip when they last fought. Surrounded by the darkness of his mind, Marshall’s embodiment invades his conscience. Marshall points a finger at MEZA and says:
“After I end Lynx’s career and piss on his fucking mask, you’re next.”
MEZA shakes it off before opening his eyes. In the distance, a stream of fans rush into the convention room for the upcoming Champion’s Q&A with Reo Ojima. The swarm is so rowdy, security is ushering them through. “The Real Man” reverberates from inside the event and into the hallway. Reo’s entrance to the stage causes the fans to move quicker and carelessly. MEZA fantasizes to the camera:
“It must be so cool to have people react like that. Even I popped for him when he was kicking my ass. At least this next time I’ll have someone like RTK at my side. He’ll be the calming energy I need to fight back the urge to stomp Marshall’s face in.”
MEZA laughs while holding his gut. His head drips like a leaky faucet and his vision rattles to the point of distorting perception. In this haze, he stands upright and envisions a white fog rapidly spreading down the hall. The first iteration of Red Tiger King, Keiji Morimoto, appears from the fog equipped with a training baton. He quizzes MEZA:
“And by what code do you follow?”
MEZA, suddenly in perfect health, responds:
“I.... don’t have a code.”
RTK I whispers:
“Wrong.”
RTK quickly squats and uses the baton to sweep MEZA onto his hands and knees. MEZA snaps back to reality with the film crew yelling:
“MEDIC!”
MEZA crawls towards the raging stampede, fighting every bit of assistance as a dribble of vomit falls to the not-so-distant convention floor. A little boy and his brother are forced out of the horde snaking through the convention center hallways. As MEZA reaches out to the boy and his brother, his vision begins to shake and blur. A yellow-ish white glow luminesces around the boys as they rush to MEZA’s side. The older brother wraps his arms around MEZA and pleads:
“We need you, MEZA! Keep fighting for us!”
The illuminating boys grow brighter and brighter.
“Please, MEZA, you are our her-“
The illumination blooms into a blinding burst of sound, energy, and light. It grows until everything pops. The ringing in the ear stops and the beaming light shoots downward. A medic, flashlight resting at his side, persistently asks:
“Are you with me, sir?!”
MEZA isn’t out yet. His stare is still on the two brothers who never noticed him. The oldest, tallest brother grabs ahold of little brother, playfully shaking him as he yells:
“OJIMA HAS THE TITLE BELT WITH HIM! LET’S GET OVER THERE!”
MEZA watches as the two boys submerge themselves into the mob heading to the Champion’s Q&A. His head dangles for a few seconds before his body fails him and his sweat-soaked head marks the endpoint of his crawl.
The cameraman says to his crew as they scratch their heads outside of a port-o-potty in the convention area of Treasure Island. They shake their heads in unison. One crew member specifies that he ate at a POLLO Fiesta Truck™ and cites it as his discomfort, albeit expected. The crew around him subtilty back away. The cameraman whispers to his cohorts:
“Should I say something while he’s in there?”
The crew shrugs, signaling they’ve never interrupted the subject of a reality series while he’s violently emptying his guts before. The cameraman creeps over to the port-o-john and gently calls out:
“H-h-hey. MEZA? Are you okayyy?”
Like an imprisoned science fiction monster, a distorted roar echoes from within. MEZA kicks open the blue, flimsy door and reveals his zombie-like appearance to the film crew. They shy away from staring directly at him. MEZA’s stomach makes a grumble that sounds like a nuclear detonation. He bends over and mutters:
“I feel....great. I’m not gonna delay filming.”
The cameraman quietly motions for his production assistant to grab medical before turning the camera back on the subject. MEZA painfully stands upright without making a peep. He uses his sweatshirt sleeve to absorb the perspiration quickly forming on his head. He closes his eyes to focus on pain management. The beads of sweat drip from his brow and make one final attempt to hang on his lip. He’s unwilfully reminded of how Luke Marshall’s spit hung from his lip when they last fought. Surrounded by the darkness of his mind, Marshall’s embodiment invades his conscience. Marshall points a finger at MEZA and says:
“After I end Lynx’s career and piss on his fucking mask, you’re next.”
MEZA shakes it off before opening his eyes. In the distance, a stream of fans rush into the convention room for the upcoming Champion’s Q&A with Reo Ojima. The swarm is so rowdy, security is ushering them through. “The Real Man” reverberates from inside the event and into the hallway. Reo’s entrance to the stage causes the fans to move quicker and carelessly. MEZA fantasizes to the camera:
“It must be so cool to have people react like that. Even I popped for him when he was kicking my ass. At least this next time I’ll have someone like RTK at my side. He’ll be the calming energy I need to fight back the urge to stomp Marshall’s face in.”
MEZA laughs while holding his gut. His head drips like a leaky faucet and his vision rattles to the point of distorting perception. In this haze, he stands upright and envisions a white fog rapidly spreading down the hall. The first iteration of Red Tiger King, Keiji Morimoto, appears from the fog equipped with a training baton. He quizzes MEZA:
“And by what code do you follow?”
MEZA, suddenly in perfect health, responds:
“I.... don’t have a code.”
RTK I whispers:
“Wrong.”
RTK quickly squats and uses the baton to sweep MEZA onto his hands and knees. MEZA snaps back to reality with the film crew yelling:
“MEDIC!”
MEZA crawls towards the raging stampede, fighting every bit of assistance as a dribble of vomit falls to the not-so-distant convention floor. A little boy and his brother are forced out of the horde snaking through the convention center hallways. As MEZA reaches out to the boy and his brother, his vision begins to shake and blur. A yellow-ish white glow luminesces around the boys as they rush to MEZA’s side. The older brother wraps his arms around MEZA and pleads:
“We need you, MEZA! Keep fighting for us!”
The illuminating boys grow brighter and brighter.
“Please, MEZA, you are our her-“
The illumination blooms into a blinding burst of sound, energy, and light. It grows until everything pops. The ringing in the ear stops and the beaming light shoots downward. A medic, flashlight resting at his side, persistently asks:
“Are you with me, sir?!”
MEZA isn’t out yet. His stare is still on the two brothers who never noticed him. The oldest, tallest brother grabs ahold of little brother, playfully shaking him as he yells:
“OJIMA HAS THE TITLE BELT WITH HIM! LET’S GET OVER THERE!”
MEZA watches as the two boys submerge themselves into the mob heading to the Champion’s Q&A. His head dangles for a few seconds before his body fails him and his sweat-soaked head marks the endpoint of his crawl.