Art by: TheBrawlerina
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I found myself enraptured by the final display. El Primo versus Torren Chell. Two massively different bodies clashing with stunning colors. El Primo would push forward with overwhelming body presses while Torren dipped between the cracks to land deadly flurries of offense. It was a clash of titans to end the night.
NOT!
I don't know what I expected. Maybe the constant screaming around me had finally managed to damage my frontal cortex. Luckily I was able to keep calm and remember why I hated professional wrestling.
Primo currently had Torren in a headlock and was talking to the crowd. I was able to call out the moment Torren would break free just before it happened. My superior intelligence must have offended these simpletons because I was able to elicit some enraged groans from behind me.
My scarf kept itself occupied by deflecting the various objects hurled at me in rage. It also pulled double duty by deflecting any remnants that might have connected with my distracted coworker. They eventually halted when a popcorn kernel collided with Bull's temple. The glare he shot back silenced them for the foreseeable future.
But I wasn't paying them any mind. I had my eyes on the ring ahead. None of this made any sense. El Primo is celebrated in Starr Park. He's supposed to be so outstanding that even Bull respects him. But from what I'm seeing, he's just another cheap performer. His movements are blatantly choreographed so that Torren can dodge or prepare for impact. He's pretending to get blown back by honestly insignificant kicks. It's all just a show.
So why does Bull respect him?
Based on the catalog of pictures from Colette's scrapbook, Bull is a well-known Brawler that's reportedly able to topple stonewalls when he starts charging. His muscles are so fine-tuned for power that when he was first presented with a weapon of choice for brawling, he turned his nose up to a double-barrel shotgun saying that it was too weak. So he fitted the tool with a third barrel on the top stating, "Now that's a gun with chest hair."
He's a beast, a monster. So why does he respect El Primo? If El Primo was a Brawler it would make logical sense for them to have a silent rivalry. But the announcer talked about El Primo and Bull's rivalry as if it were a shocking revelation. Maybe I'm overthinking it but, why would everyone act so surprised that two muscular Brawlers acknowledge each other?
The sound of Torren being slammed into the mat punctuated my thoughts. However if El Primo isn't a Brawler then I would expect them to rejoice at Bull confessing to his abilities. For a normal human to be acknowledged as powerful by a Brawler. Any Brawler would have been impressive but for Bull to acknowledge him was like Max had called you quick on your feet.
Another stiff blow could be heard within the ring. El Primo had just landed another cataclysmic slam on Torren. A bit of the newcomer's black locks spilled out the front. In contrast, Primo was a stunning visage of confidence.
With his bright blue spandex gleaming from the sweat pouring down his back he clamored up the turnbuckle closest to us. Colette's squeals would have shattered the lights above if it wasn't for my scarf's soft silencing.
From up high the beams bounced off his glimmering figure. He was the hero of a fable in their eyes. Yet all I could see was a self-righteous fool. A rube that crashed down with the force of a cinderblock. Even I had to cringe when I saw the massive wad of saliva fly from Torren's mouth.
Then came the count.
"1!" roared the crowd.
"2!" came screaming from my right.
"3!"
Then the toll of that infernal bell screeched from ringside. Three sharp dings signaled the end of this painfully boring bout. The cheers came like rainfall in April and I was without an umbrella. El Primo made sure to bask in this storm of praise like a dung beetle in a pit of manure.
I might have been the only silent soul in this tiny clearing. As I looked to my left Bull gave a small smile acknowledging the spectacle he had witnessed. He was still standing high above with his arms crossed and aura smug. I looked away almost instinctually, snapping my head in the opposite direction. Directly into the line of Colette's sight.
She wouldn't take her eyes off the ring. She was drinking up every drop of absurdity like a bird to honeydew. And I found myself feeding off this feeling. Her enjoyment was contagious. My scarf had to snap me out of it before I got lost in her snow-white curls.
Just in time to see a ring official approaching with a microphone in hand. Poco and Amber had ditched their ringside seats for a spot at each of Primo's sides. It was Poco that passed the mic to El Primo while he gently pushed Amber off his side. I didn't wait for him to start before rolling my eyes.
"STARR PARK!" he called over the loudspeakers around the perimeter. Though the rapturous squeals of the fans drowned him out. Or was it just Colette causing that ringing in my ear? Either way, his promo continued.
"Tonight's show was absolutely, GLORIOUS!" Poco and Amber pranced about the ring as his speech droned on. He talked about the importance of interaction with the fans. However the performers put their bodies on the line every week not just for them, but because they love this sport.
"Lame," I grumbled out. I was looking forward to the end of this show. It meant I could go home and lay in my bed. Swaddling up tight in silken black fabrics while I absently drift away to the sound of Metallic. But instead, I was listening to some phony fighter pretend to be exasperated after his fake match.
I must have missed most of the promo during my sulking as when I tuned in again El Primo seemed to be winding down. He wistfully exclaimed, "But that's the end for tonight. The show's over." This claim was returned with a chorus of hisses and boos. El Primo scratched the back of his head and apologized saying, "I know I know but all good things must end. Please have a safe trip home." He waved out to the crowd on that note.
'Finally' I began to rise from my seat as some people groaned at the event's unfortunate end.
Then once again the speakers playfully added, "Unless..." A new voice sang through the seats. A song came on with a high-pitched tune and a feminine chorus. From the makeshift backstage area came a woman dressed in a sharp navy-blue pants suit. Her jet-black heels tapped against the floor with the powerful grace only a queen could create.
The fans were booing her into the stratosphere but she wore a smug grin through it all. She spoke up, "Primo that was an amazing match. As per usual." She tipped her metaphorical hat to punctuate her claim. El Primo gladly accepted the compliment with Poco and Amber joining the crowd's applause.
I turned towards my coworker. "How much-" I wanted to ask her when this would end but her eyes were sparkling. Literally, little stars were spewing from her iris. So I figured I could sit through another five minutes of monotony.
The lady I assumed to be an executive of this promotion continued her addendum. "It's honestly astounding watching you perform every night. I mean, look at him. He's El Primo!" The fans screamed in agreement vibrating the air around me. I saw the exec thank Torren as he passed her to return backstage. "I mean you are the main event in every way Primo."
He quickly brought the mic to his mouth. "That's El Primo," he added with a smirk.
"Right of course." The audience was giving small chirps and taunts both in favor of and to antagonize El Primo. "But El Primo, you've been champion for over 365 days starting tomorrow." There was another powerful response from the fans. Poco and Amber at his side backed up this statement by congratulating him on a job well done. I could see Amber's flaming mane grow a bit.
As the voices quieted down El Primo spoke up. "Are you just coming out here to congratulate me? Or do you have something interesting for your champion?"
The executive nodded along with his question. "In fact I do... not." A bevy of boos made the ground quake. She continued, "But I do have something for them-" her hands pointed outwards to the stadium seats. At one point her hand swept in our direction and the already intense excitement that Colette was holding in nearly exploded.
"To tonight's audience, I have a very special proposition." I could hear people leaning forward in their shoddy steel chairs. The anticipation caused them to drool like starving puppies. "Who wants to be an SPPW Superstar?!"
I was wrong. They could get louder. If we had a roof, it would have been torn off its hinges from the screams. I swear some car alarms went off in the distance thanks to their cheers. The nearby Starr Park attractions stalled to a halt in response. All eyes and ears were centered on that square ring in the middle of a dirt road.
"Yeah!" she got in on the excitement. "That's right. Everyone wants to be a superstar!" She continued lighting the torch under their rears for a few more seconds. "Well if you want to be a superstar, all you have to do is-" a twinkling light refracted off her polished nails and towards the ring ahead- "Fight El Primo in a one-on-one match!"
Now what happened next was the most surprising thing of the night. After being told that all it would take to become an SPPW Superstar is stepping into that ring. To live out their dream they only need to face that performer. And yet with such an easy proposition, the crowd went silent.
I sat in my chair and looked around. Many people were murmuring silently with one another. Others could be seen sitting back in their chairs. Laughing at the notion of even entering the arena. I looked to my left at Bull. He had also sat down unsurprisingly. Though I was stunned when I looked to my right. Colette, the girl that has hunted down Brawlers just for a drop of their saliva was currently hiding behind the barricade. Almost as if she didn't want to be seen.
My scarf tapped her on the shoulder, but she didn't respond. I expected to have to hold her down before she ripped the tights off of El Primo's butt. Instead, she stared forward, unblinking, entranced by the offer. I looked back to the ring as Poco and Amber tried to hype up the crowd. They seemed to be attempting to provoke someone to step up.
However, as a minute passed nothing happened. People continued to murmur but no one rose to the occasion. El Primo grew tired of waiting so he attempted to sweeten the deal. "If a fight isn't enough then try this. If you win-" he unbuttoned his championship belt and dangled it above his head, "you shall be the new SPPW Champion!"
It only got stranger. Now the murmurs stopped. Everyone sat down immediately. You could hear the low hum of the generator behind us. Even Colette had glued her butt to her seat. This was the first time I'd seen her speechless. I tapped her shoulder, "Are you okay?"
She quickly snapped to me saying, "I'm fine." Then her eyes were locked forward once again. I was used to looking at her in awe but being truly shocked by her actions. I never thought that would happen here. I didn't think she had this side. To be left speechless. I never thought I'd see it.
I looked ahead. I could tell my scarf was just as confused. I had a simple question, "So what no-OW!"
A sharp pain coursed through my rear. I jumped out of my seat from the stiff shot. I turned around in hopes of finding something in my chair but it was the same flat metal I had sat on earlier.
While I was busy inspecting my butt, I heard a chilling call over the loudspeaker. The fans began to cheer like mad banshees. Colette's face turned white as snow and Bull gave out a stiff chortle.
I dreaded it. I knew what was going on but I wanted to deny it. However, my scarf tapped my shoulder to signal I needed to turn around. And as I did I got a face full of my worst nightmare.
El Primo was staring at me, his gloved index aimed towards my head. Poco and Amber were smiling as well with sinister grins and maniacal laughter. El Primo's grin was sparkling like glistening gems. And the words rolling off his tongue were a sickening poison worse than any of Colt's bullets.
"A VOLUNTEER!"