Post by MEZA on Jan 18, 2024 0:55:43 GMT
We begin outside The Maker’s outdated home where MEZA, carrying a backpack, and Lynx ring the doorbell. MEZA can hear the squeal of Angel, the assistant that MEZA originally believed to be The Maker. The flamboyant man swings open the door and embraces the team.
ANGEL
Oh myyyy gawwwdd. Can you believe it?! I’m in the presence of Pollo royalty!
MEZA sheepishly thanks Angel, but you can tell his position as champion hasn’t quite settled like it did for previous winners. The thought of being considered the best of the best within a roster that’s likely been wrestling since he was a teenager intimidates him. Since the 2022 HIJO, MEZA chased the dream of defeating Pollo Dora… Matt Pulver to reclaim whatever pride that defeat stole from him. Like the dog who eventually catches the car, MEZA has no idea what to do with a world championship. Not only did he defeat Pulver, but he became PMLL Cruiserweight Champion all in one night. As they say: too much, too fast.
ANGEL
I must tell you, Alejandro. The mask – your mask – is unlike any of her work. The superiority of the fabric, the elegance of the stitching, and the symbolism in the design. This is her magnum opus, hunny, and you are her muse…
THE MAKER
Alejandro!... ¡Mi campeón!
[Alejandro! My champion!]
The frail woman that is The Maker hurriedly shuffles to MEZA and leaps into his embrace. Angel makes it a three-way hug before Lynx, feeling left out, makes it a group hug. They all spin in a circle chanting MEZA’s name. Lynx and MEZA delicately release The Maker from the hug.
THE MAKER
Boys… please, please come in. I cannot wait to show you my work.
The Maker grabs both Lynx and MEZA’s hand and herds them into her office where the mask is on display. She rushes over to the mask and smiles beside it as if she was posing for a photo. The overall color of the mask is reminiscent of a pitch black void, an emptiness. However, in the center of the mask a burst of speckled sheen white ruptures the perfect darkness. The design evokes visions of a crack in the blackness which gives way to invading light. The same shade of white hangs in threads from the back of the mask, appearing like human dreads.
The mask is both functional and a symbolic antithesis of the man who inspired it: Kalidah. A tribute to the man who dances in the darkest corner.
LYNX
Ay dios mío…
[Oh my god…]
THE MAKER
Do you like, mijo?! I call it LUZ [Light] MEZA.
MEZA
It’s… perfect.
THE MAKER
You see? After you won the championship, I added speckles of gold to the light. Speaking of – where is it? The belt?
MEZA unzips the backpack and retrieves the championship from the bag. THE MAKER gasps.
THE MAKER
Mijo! You can’t just shove that in a bag.
MEZA
I’m sorry–I just don’t feel comfortable wearing it. It feels gaudy to me, and I’ve never even been a jewelry guy.
The Maker chuckles at MEZA’s naiveté.
THE MAKER
This is no piece of jewelry…
She caresses the gold plate.
THE MAKER
This championship is the manifestation of several decades of lucha libre history. And it all leads to you.
She lifts the belt and gently places it on MEZA’s shoulder. She gives it a few taps to make sure it stays put.
THE MAKER
You are a part of history now, mijo. You must wear this badge proudly…
The trio are interrupted by the sound of the front door swinging open and a little child yelling “Abuela! Abuela!” A little boy appears at the door of The Maker’s office and he immediately drops his thermos at the site of the champion.
LITTLE BOY
Holy sh–
THE MAKER
MATEO!
The Maker goes over to the starstruck boy and pushes him over to the mask.
THE MAKER
Mateo – meet MEZA and Lynx. Gentlemen, my nieto, [grandson] Mateo.
MATEO
Uhh hi Mr. Meza. And Mr. Lynx.
MEZA’s whole hand envelops the little hand of Mateo as he shakes it.
MEZA
It’s nice to meet you little man. Hey–wanna wear the championship?
The champion plops the heavy belt on Mateo who immediately sinks under the weight.
MEZA
Looks pretty awesome. How does it feel, bud?
MATEO
It feels good.
Based on all the smiles, Mateo is in heaven.
THE MAKER
Take notes, Mr. Champion.
The moment is interrupted by the front door again. But this time it’s not the endearing voice of a little one, but the indignation of a grown Spanish-speaking man. Angel attempts to console the person, but the shouting only increases.
VOICE
No pagaré las reparaciones de la máscara. No es mi culpa que se rompiera durante mi partido. Calidad de mierda.
[I'm not paying for the repairs to the mask. It's not my fault it ripped during my match. Shitty quality.]
MEZA and Lynx run to the doorway to see El Sange de Pollo towering over a helpless Angel.
MEZA
Déjalo en paz, Pollo.
[Leave him alone, Pollo.]
EL SANGRE DE POLLO
¿Qué vas a hacer, tonto?
[What are you going to do, dumbass?]
The Maker squeezes through the The Patrimonio team and Sangre’s demeanor quickly changes to a boy caught red-handed.
EL SANGRE DE POLLO
Señora. No sabía que estabas aquí.
[Ma'am. I did not know you were here.]
THE MAKER
Well, I am here. And soon you won’t be.
EL SANGRE DE POLLO
Sí, señora. Me voy ahora mismo.
[Yes ma'am. I'm leaving right now.]
As El Sangre opens the door to exit, MEZA calls out to him.
MEZA
Por cierto, Sangre…
[By the way, Sangre…]
MEZA points to the championship still hanging off of Mateo’s shoulder.
MEZA
…Puedes referirte a mí como "campeón" ahora.
[You can refer to me as "champ" now.]
Sangre snarls before exiting without a rebuttal.
ANGEL
Oh myyyy gawwwdd. Can you believe it?! I’m in the presence of Pollo royalty!
MEZA sheepishly thanks Angel, but you can tell his position as champion hasn’t quite settled like it did for previous winners. The thought of being considered the best of the best within a roster that’s likely been wrestling since he was a teenager intimidates him. Since the 2022 HIJO, MEZA chased the dream of defeating Pollo Dora… Matt Pulver to reclaim whatever pride that defeat stole from him. Like the dog who eventually catches the car, MEZA has no idea what to do with a world championship. Not only did he defeat Pulver, but he became PMLL Cruiserweight Champion all in one night. As they say: too much, too fast.
ANGEL
I must tell you, Alejandro. The mask – your mask – is unlike any of her work. The superiority of the fabric, the elegance of the stitching, and the symbolism in the design. This is her magnum opus, hunny, and you are her muse…
THE MAKER
Alejandro!... ¡Mi campeón!
[Alejandro! My champion!]
The frail woman that is The Maker hurriedly shuffles to MEZA and leaps into his embrace. Angel makes it a three-way hug before Lynx, feeling left out, makes it a group hug. They all spin in a circle chanting MEZA’s name. Lynx and MEZA delicately release The Maker from the hug.
THE MAKER
Boys… please, please come in. I cannot wait to show you my work.
The Maker grabs both Lynx and MEZA’s hand and herds them into her office where the mask is on display. She rushes over to the mask and smiles beside it as if she was posing for a photo. The overall color of the mask is reminiscent of a pitch black void, an emptiness. However, in the center of the mask a burst of speckled sheen white ruptures the perfect darkness. The design evokes visions of a crack in the blackness which gives way to invading light. The same shade of white hangs in threads from the back of the mask, appearing like human dreads.
The mask is both functional and a symbolic antithesis of the man who inspired it: Kalidah. A tribute to the man who dances in the darkest corner.
LYNX
Ay dios mío…
[Oh my god…]
THE MAKER
Do you like, mijo?! I call it LUZ [Light] MEZA.
MEZA
It’s… perfect.
THE MAKER
You see? After you won the championship, I added speckles of gold to the light. Speaking of – where is it? The belt?
MEZA unzips the backpack and retrieves the championship from the bag. THE MAKER gasps.
THE MAKER
Mijo! You can’t just shove that in a bag.
MEZA
I’m sorry–I just don’t feel comfortable wearing it. It feels gaudy to me, and I’ve never even been a jewelry guy.
The Maker chuckles at MEZA’s naiveté.
THE MAKER
This is no piece of jewelry…
She caresses the gold plate.
THE MAKER
This championship is the manifestation of several decades of lucha libre history. And it all leads to you.
She lifts the belt and gently places it on MEZA’s shoulder. She gives it a few taps to make sure it stays put.
THE MAKER
You are a part of history now, mijo. You must wear this badge proudly…
The trio are interrupted by the sound of the front door swinging open and a little child yelling “Abuela! Abuela!” A little boy appears at the door of The Maker’s office and he immediately drops his thermos at the site of the champion.
LITTLE BOY
Holy sh–
THE MAKER
MATEO!
The Maker goes over to the starstruck boy and pushes him over to the mask.
THE MAKER
Mateo – meet MEZA and Lynx. Gentlemen, my nieto, [grandson] Mateo.
MATEO
Uhh hi Mr. Meza. And Mr. Lynx.
MEZA’s whole hand envelops the little hand of Mateo as he shakes it.
MEZA
It’s nice to meet you little man. Hey–wanna wear the championship?
The champion plops the heavy belt on Mateo who immediately sinks under the weight.
MEZA
Looks pretty awesome. How does it feel, bud?
MATEO
It feels good.
Based on all the smiles, Mateo is in heaven.
THE MAKER
Take notes, Mr. Champion.
The moment is interrupted by the front door again. But this time it’s not the endearing voice of a little one, but the indignation of a grown Spanish-speaking man. Angel attempts to console the person, but the shouting only increases.
VOICE
No pagaré las reparaciones de la máscara. No es mi culpa que se rompiera durante mi partido. Calidad de mierda.
[I'm not paying for the repairs to the mask. It's not my fault it ripped during my match. Shitty quality.]
MEZA and Lynx run to the doorway to see El Sange de Pollo towering over a helpless Angel.
MEZA
Déjalo en paz, Pollo.
[Leave him alone, Pollo.]
EL SANGRE DE POLLO
¿Qué vas a hacer, tonto?
[What are you going to do, dumbass?]
The Maker squeezes through the The Patrimonio team and Sangre’s demeanor quickly changes to a boy caught red-handed.
EL SANGRE DE POLLO
Señora. No sabía que estabas aquí.
[Ma'am. I did not know you were here.]
THE MAKER
Well, I am here. And soon you won’t be.
EL SANGRE DE POLLO
Sí, señora. Me voy ahora mismo.
[Yes ma'am. I'm leaving right now.]
As El Sangre opens the door to exit, MEZA calls out to him.
MEZA
Por cierto, Sangre…
[By the way, Sangre…]
MEZA points to the championship still hanging off of Mateo’s shoulder.
MEZA
…Puedes referirte a mí como "campeón" ahora.
[You can refer to me as "champ" now.]
Sangre snarls before exiting without a rebuttal.
