The hero of our story, Latina Submission Machina, stands beneath a spotlight in front of an intentionally obscured background. Her red, white, and green wrestling attire shines brightly as the sequins on the fabric reflect the filming lights. LSM has won 7 XWF championships since she joined the XWF last year, but to her that was no cause for celebration. LSM stepped in front of the camera with a look of barely restrained rage. The sugar skull artwork covering half of her face gives us only a glimpse of the darkness hiding just beneath LSM's shimmering surface.
Last year on my first ever night of Relentless, I ended Big Money Oswald’s Anarchy Championship reign. That night I became the Anarchy Champion, catapulting myself into stardom on Thursday nights like no one ever has before me. Even my friend Ruby is telling folks that I’m the biggest star Anarchy has ever produced. My first night of Relentless was like a springboard for my career that I never saw coming, because I pole vaulted those back-to-back Anarchy Championship reigns into a War Games Captainship and an X-treme title run……
LSM looks off to the side as she shakes her head in disgust.
Both of which went nowhere. So here we are, back to square one, exactly one year later.
LSM turns her gaze back to the camera as she balls one of her hands into a fist.
This year on the second night of Relentless I plan to catapult myself once again. And this time, since I’m getting more air time than I did last year, I know I’ll land even higher, and on my feet! After I come down from this big win at Relentless I’m going to hit the ground running, because I always have my eyes on the ultimate prize- but I’ll never overlook an opponent, no matter how much it hurts to actually look at them. I know that each and every baby step along this path is worth taking- no matter how ugly and deformed that baby I’m stepping on happens to be!
LSM pretends to stomp down on a deformed baby before she makes a wild gesture with her arm, swinging it off to the side to end the bit. She then looks back up towards the camera with an icy glare. She’s getting worked up…she seems big mad about something.
But that’s all my opponent really is, right? A big, ugly, deformed baby. He’s more or less a Mystcarriage, if you will, because he liked to play around in Jenny Myst’s after-failed-birth so much he’s practically become the stuff through some sort of sick osmosis! He plays around in the gutters so much, it’s all he lets himself be these days. Mark Flynn took one stroll through those same gutters and became the king of my opponent’s hill, just like that. That’s like losing a match with home field advantage! That’s gotta sting. My opponent was probably still feeling that sting when he got put out like yesterday’s garbage against Raion Kido.
LSM scoffs at the camera as she rolls her eyes to the moon and back. She crosses her arms across her chest and begins tapping the ground with her foot.
If you hear crying backstage after our match, don’t be worried amigos, it’s probably just my opponent whining to management again, for the millionth time. After all, isn’t that the only reason he got those beat-down bookings on Savage and Warfare? This grimy goon was running around for months, screaming at anyone who would listen that he’s out of work and demands a match. When that didn’t work, he just started making his demands more and more zany- hoping to shift the middle ground so much that the general managers would eventually book him somewhere on the midcard.
LSM takes one arm off her chest and brings it up to her shoulder snapping her fingers.
Then, the unthinkable happened. All the guys upstairs decided to call his bluff, and force him to put his gutter change where his mouth was. They said ‘you want a title shot? Have a title shot’, ‘you want a match against Flynn? Have a match against Flynn’...and what did my opponent do with those golden opportunities? He pissed them down the drain, just like he does with those kidney stones of his every mañana.
The luchadora shakes her head from side to side in clear disgust.
Losing back-to-back matches in the marquee should have shut this screeching jackyl up, but now I guess it’s up to me to finish the job and send this human refuse out to the trash. If you’re a betting man you should put your money on me to get this job done in 5 minutes or less, because I’ve never been one to shirk my chores and skirt my duties- I mean after all, it’s not a long walk from here to the trash bin and back. I’m a world class athlete, I train my skills everyday.
A match like this won’t even be a challenge for me- just a stepping stone.
LSM proudly pounds on her chest. She means every word she says, and she’s willing to stand on them.
My opponent is exactly that: just my opponent. His name doesn’t need to be said, it doesn’t even need to be put up on the card. I'm the only professional wrestler in this match, I’m the only wrestler people pay money to see in this match, I’m the only pedigreed champion in this match. My opponent’s just there so the folks have someone they can watch me work on, someone so awful they don’t have to feel bad about seeing their arm break in four places. My opponent’s name sounds as foul as he smells, those words don’t need to gutter-up any of my air time. My opponent doesn’t deserve a name. Names are for human beings, for things that matter, things that need to be remembered.
LSM stares into the camera with a cold and unforgiving vengeance.
The only thing anyone needs to remember about my opponent is that he deserves everything that’s coming to him on night 2 of Relentless- and he knows why.
The last thing we see as we fade to black is LSM turning to the side, revealing to us only the side of her face painted with the sugar skull.
A single car drives down a dirt road in the middle of Arizona’s Sonoran Desert, located smack dab in the middle of the route from Ciudad Juarez to Hollywood Studios. The car weaves dangerously back and forth through both lanes, barely avoiding the cactuses and armadillos that litter the sides of the road. Puffy rain clouds drift to the west overhead as the car on the road chases after them. The warmth from the beating sun breaks through the cloud cover and smothers our entire scene in an unbearable heat.
It is out here, in the middle of nowhere, that LSM finally realizes they are lost. We cut to a camera shot inside the car, and we see Charlie Nickles hunched over the steering wheel pressing the pedal to the medal. An unpainted Robyn Gonzalez sits in the passenger seat, buckled up for dear life.
You don’t know where you’re going, do you?! You said we were taking a shortcut!
I think we are!
What do you mean you THINK?
The Nickleman looks over to Robyn with the dismissive sneer of a bastardly father.
Didn’t you THINK you were taking a shortcut with the X-treme belt?
Robyn rolls her eyes and sits back in her seat, crossing her arms and puffing out some heated discontent.
So what you’re saying is: we’re completely lost.
Yeah, pretty much. But don’t worry, if we keep going this way we’ll probably be there in no time! I still have a good feeling about this!
Robyn shakes her head in annoyance before closing her eyes and doing that weird little thing Catholics do with their fingers over their chest. As Robyn’s hand makes the religious movements, the pentagram necklace resting on her collarbone glows bright green. The green hue turns darker and darker still as she whispers a prayer to Mother Mary. Charlie looks over at the glowing pentagram in shock. Robyn, however, doesn’t seem to notice that anything’s up…..not until Charlie loses control of the car and slams straight into a cactus!
¡MIERDA!!
FUCK!
The car drives through and over the now severed cactus before Charlie is able to steer it back onto the dirt road path. The Nickleman tries to drive on like nothing’s happened, but a nasty screeching can be heard up in the front wheel wells. A trail of black smoke is slithering out from beneath the engine hood and drifting up towards the cloud. Robyn hits her father and starts screaming at him to stop.
¡Deténgase! ¡Deténgase! ¡Aparca el coche!
The Nickleman sighs softly as he brings the car to a stop in the middle of the dirt road.
Yeah, so this is probably my bad. I think I’m having hallucinations from all those medications…I’m starting to see weird things again.
You probably killed the car! I told you that I could get myself to Relentless, I didn’t need your help getting to the show!
Yeah but, you know, I just thought we could spend some good, quality father-daughter time…doing fun stuff we never got to do back when you were younger, like road trips, like me taking you to the big competitions….
You can’t make up lost time, and now, we’re going to have to make up a LOT of lost time just to make it to the show on time!
Charlie puts the car in park before killing the ignition and looking over to LSM with a big dopey smile.
Well hey, at least we still have our vitamins!
The Nickleman reaches into his pocket and pulls out a literal fistful of Flintstones vitamins. He throws them all into his mouth and starts cracking them into powder with his busted molars. Robyn unbuckles her seatbelt before leaning forward and placing her head in her hands.
I told you we wouldn’t have phone service out in this desert, I don’t know why I let you take us out this way.
You tell me a lot of things. I don’t listen to most of them.
Yeah, I’ve figured that out by now. No es de extrañar que mamá haya dejado tu trasero.
What was that?
Robyn glares at Charlie before shaking her head dismissively at him.
Nothing. Now come on, we need to take a look at the damage and see if this automobile is even worth saving.
LSM and her bastardly father open their car doors and step out into the hot desert sands. A scorching wind greets them with pebbles to the face for their troubles, causing both of them to shield their faces with their hands reflexively.
Ahhh this sucks.
Yeah, it does! And it is your fault! Dios mío... siempre te estás quejando de los problemas que causas.
Charlie raises an eyebrow, curious about what was said but unable to understand and unwilling to ask. The pair reach the hood of the car before turning their backs on the whipping heat of the wind before Charlie reaches down and pops open the hood. Robyn grabs the built-in prop stick and sets it in place. Charlie lets the hood of the car fall onto the stick and rest in place before he and his daughter looked down at the engine itself, which was covered in a thick cloud of black smoke. Robyn started coughing her lungs out, but Charlie just inhaled all the smoke with a dope fiend’s smile.
Oh no, that can’t be good….I should have just flown like I wanted to! I bought the ticket and everything!
Charlie looks over to his daughter and cocks his head to the side curiously.
Wait, why didn’t you just fly then? I didn’t know you already had a plane ticket when I came down to Meheeco to pick you up. Why didn’t you tell me?
Because you never asked! You just showed up on my day and said
LSM does her best Charlie Nickles impression- and it’s pretty darn close.
‘Come on darling, I’m taking you to the pay per view!’
Charlie looks a bit downtrodden, rubbing the back of his neck as Robyn looks off to the side sheepishly.
And I didn’t want to hurt your feelings by saying no….
You don’t have to worry about my feelings. No one ever does.
I do.
Well cut that shit out. I don’t even worry about my feelings! I don’t think I have any! The liquor must have killed them. Shit, I can barely even feel what’s happening to me inside that ring anymore!
Robyn places a tender hand on her father’s shoulder as she looks through the empty emotion in his eyes.
I care about you, okay? And I thought it would be fun to spend some time on the road together! I’ve heard you get into a whole lot of shenanigans, and I’ve seen it on camera too! I thought maybe it would be fun to spend some quality time together.
Charlie looks down at Robyn with a soft-hearted smile as he wraps his arm around her shoulders, bringing her in close for a hug.
Well I hope these shenanigans are everything you were hoping for…
Robyn chuckles as she wipes a hopeful tear off her cheek.
All that and then some, I think it runs in our blood or something!
Robyn breaks off the hug with a sniffle before looking back towards the car.
But we need to figure out what we’re doing about this….
Charlie looks down at his daughter with tenderness, before looking back towards the car with concern. The Nickleman takes one look at the burned innards of the engine before scratching his head and throwing in the towel.
Well….it looks fucked.
Can’t you fix it? I’ve seen you doing a whole bunch of stuff with cars in the Bastard MegaChurch parking lot!
Taking parts off of cars is a whole nother’ trade than fixing them, sweetheart. This is way above my paygrade.
LSM sighs to herself before rubbing the temple of her forehead. A few beads of sweat are now trickling down her brow, but whether they’re caused by the stress or the heat is debatable.
And…just so you know…
Robyn looks back towards her father with hopeful anticipation.
I’m not really a cowboy, I just played one in the movies- so I won’t be able to do any kinda cool cowboy shit to get us home. I do have a few guns in the trunk tho, in case we might need them.
LSM’s shoulders drop in exasperation as she leans forward exaggeratedly.
……great. Thanks for contributing that tidbit of information, you’re as helpful as always padre.
I try my best.
Sometimes, I wonder…wait, did you say you had GUNS in the trunk?! Dios Mio what do we need those for?
In case the cartel tries to fuck with us!
Why would the cartel fuck with us?!?! Besides, we’re definitely in Arizona already! I live right on the border, and we left hours ago!
It’s just in case! I never head down to Mexico without my straps! You know the kind of people that live in Mexico…
I can’t believe you….you know I’M MEXICAN, right?
Yeah….so? You should know exactly what I’m talking about! I can’t believe your mom let you run around Mexico without a glock-nine on you at all times!
Robyn exhales softly before just looking away from her father in disbelief. She looks down towards the engine of the car and starts tinkering with pieces here and there, partly to try and fix the car, but partly just to take her mind off all this stress.
Nickles looks into the sky curiously as Robyn continues to examine the car’s engine, trying to remove spark plugs for really no good reason. Charlie starts laughing to himself as he looks at the clouds moving across the sky, causing Robyn to look back towards him with a flash of anger.
Seriously? What are you laughing at right now?
That cloud kind of looks like Micheal Graves sucking his own dick!
….can we not talk about THAT GUY right now, okay? The whole thing is kind of a sore topic for me….
Huh, what? I’m serious, just look!
Charlie points up towards one of the clouds, and sure enough- it DOES look like Micheal Graves sucking his own dick! Even the always-so-serious LSM can’t hold back a few chuckles at the image.
And there’s the Raion Kido and the Mark Flynn cloud, walking away pulling up their zippers, because they just got done running a train on the Micheal Graves cloud!
Okay…now you’re just going off on some drug-addled tangent!
Charlie pops a few more Flintstones multivitamins into his mouth as he giggles, watching the clouds soar by overhead. The camera slowly zooms out as Robyn sets to work trying to repair the car’s completely fucked engine. Off in the distance, on either side of the dirt road, we can see two convoys of armored cars hauling ass towards our stranded superstars…..
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