Post by Deleted on Mar 20, 2016 20:14:01 GMT
'You ready, Jay?'
I nod. Walt hands me the softball bat, takes his place behind the tablet, and gives me a thumbs up. I turn my back to the camera, take a deep breath, and let the bat dangle from my right hand,. Then, as I slowly turn back around to face the camera, I toss it aside, with as much strength as I dare use indoors.
'No need', I spit. 'No need that to win lucha. No need nothin' to win lucha. Nothin' but these.'
I hold my hands up to the camera, meaningfully.
'Everything I get in lucha, I get with these. This right here...' I pat the Pollomania Supremo Championship slung over my right shoulder. 'I get with these. I no hit people with baseball bat, or chair, or pipe. I hit with hands and feet. I jump. I give lucha moves. I beat clean, I win clean. Only way to win.'
I pause a moment for effect, before continuing:
'Deezy...you talk a lot, say you want lucha with me for Supremo title. And sure, then you win one or two luchas. Beat my partner. But when is time to be face to face with me, what you do? You hide inside cake. Trick me. Beat me down. When is time to be face to face with me, you not man enough. And now, street fight? Means nothing! If you hit me with chair, you pin me, one-two-three...what means? Means you are being better at using chair! No means you are being better at lucha!'
I pause again, heaving.
'Deezy...this not nobody else no more, amigo. This not playtime no more. This is big time. This is the Supremo Champion. An' maybe you think that don't mean nothin'. Maybe you think you can win with chair. But homes...I tell you somethin'. On Wednesday, in Philadelphia...is no mattering one chair. Is no mattering two chairs. Is no mattering pipes. Is no mattering bats. Is no mattering friends running out to hit me. On Wednesday, I beat you. On Wednesday, I prove to Tiger I can take anything he is throwing at me. On Wednesday, I am proving to you, him and the Polloverse why I am EL SUPREMO CAMPEĆN DE POLLOMANIA!'
I throw my fist up, then bring it back down to rest in front of my face as I slowly bring my other hand around to meet it.
'And Deezy', I conclude. 'I do it with just these.'
'CUT!' Walt lowers his tablet and comes forward to high-five me. 'That was amazing, dude! You put the fear of God into him!'
I grin. 'Hopefully. I have a feeling D. C. doesn't scare easily...'
'Doesn't matter, man. Scared or not, that dude is getting beat on Wednesday!'
I wish I could be as confident as him, to be honest. Still, I don't want to let him down, so I offer what little I can: a smile and a promise.
'I'll sure try, buddy. I'll sure try.'
Final Word Count: 498
Final Word Count: 498