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Stevie Tyler · (08-12-2013)

THE ENCHILADAS SUCK

Greenville, South Carolina. Located about 2 hours from Atlanta and 4-5 from Raleigh. It's a nice enough city. Not too large, not too small. The problem is a little place called Bob Jones University. The giant Christian college permeates every aspect of the culture here. Not as much as it once did. Hell, at one point, you couldn't go downtown without being accosted by at least 8 different street preachers. Thankfully, they were all ran away from downtown around the same time the panhandlers were. And, honestly, aren't they the same thing?

Downtown was nicer now than it had been, and Stevie actually liked going down. With the street preachers not polluting the sidewalks, it was getting relatively easy to avoid them by just hanging out with his friends and in comic shops and whatnot. Which is really cool for Stevie, since he's pretty sure they'd sense what's in him and then he wouldn't just have to deal with people trying to win his title.

He'd have to deal with people trying to win his soul, and that's even more annoying.

This particular night he had decided to head out with his roommate, LJ, to a newer place in town called Gringos. Gringos was a tongue-in-cheek Mexican restaurant ran by, well, a gringo. They ordered their food. Stevie got a carne asada enchilada and LJ ordered the El Luchador. Stevie was immediately displeased with the meal. It was obvious his rice and beans came from cans, but then again, it is called 'Gringos'. This was probably all part of the joke. LJ lucked up. El Luchador was a giant burrito stuffed with steak, guacamole, potatoes, and french fries to double up the potatoness of the whole thing. He loved it.

The wall was painted with all sorts of stuff. Stevie had actually spent some time in Mexico as a teenager and noted that the terribly handpainted walls were very reminiscent of places he saw there. Hovering over their table was a spray-painted luchador riding a bicycle while holding a huge taco. Across from them was Elvis Presley singing into a margarita glass.

"This place is pretty sweet," said LJ.

"Yeah, it's ok. Not a fan of this enchilada, and I keep getting a feeling that dude on the wall is gonna' try to hit me with the taco," Stevie replied.

"You gotta' be used to it by now. Hell, when I watched you and Gary Wednesday, you almost seemed like you were getting into it. I mean, you're still running away from these guys like a pussy, but it looked like you're finally feeling a LITTLE comfortable."

Stevie struggled to down a bite of his enchilada, washing it away with a PBR the bartender had given him for free because he recognized him. "I don't know, dude. I mean, on one hand, it is normal for me now. Like it or not, this is my life now. On the other, it really sucks getting beat up all the time. It's like 11th grade for the rest of my life."

"Bro, remember that time Tiny made you eat a urinal cake?" LJ asked.

Stevie had a full bite in his mouth that he shoved out and back onto his plate with his tongue. He slowly pushed the plate away.

"Stevie, you gotta' listen to me. It's all cool now. I know it hurts and stuff, but look at you. You've bled a lot since starting this and there's not a scar on your head. Gary's protecting you, bro. I say suck it up and enjoy it while it lasts. If they're right about the end of the world and all that, you might as well get the most out of this while you can."

"That's easy for you to say. You're not the one getting attacked by wrestlers, ninjas, and assassins every other day."

LJ takes a large bite of his burrito, nodding, and answers through the food. "Yeah, I get that. I'm sure it sucks, but it's gotta' beat relying on an 18 year old manager at Wal-Mart bossing you around. I know you're still there, but you don't depend on it. You know what I mean? Why are you even there still?"

Stevie looked around at the decor for a moment before answering him. "I guess it's just some sort of normalcy. I mean, everywhere I turn this shit is staring me in the face. Nura won't leave the apartment for anything. Gary's almost always with me. He won't go in Wal-Mart, though, because he hates rednecks. I think it's part of the reason he keeps wanting me to fight Eli James IV. Then Drotte and Rayha and it's just all so much. Hell, even here I've got all these Mexican wrestlers all over the wall."

LJ actually has a look of understanding flash across his eyes. Then it's gone. "I'd kill to have your problems, bro. You're famous. You've got a hot girlfriend. You're a champion and you're making a ton of money. You can't be hurt, bro. Nothing long-term. Just enjoy it."

Stevie drops his head. "Dude…You're right. I know you are. I'm a coward, though. That's all it is. I always have been."

A woman calmly, serenely even walks to their table and sits down. Her bright, red hair flowing down and off her shoulders.

It's Rayha. Stevie's guardian angel. Oddly enough, Stevie's guard goes up. She stares him the yes.

"You are not as cowardly as you think, Steven." She had heard everything. Of course she did. "Baal'Nezz doesn't actually force you into these situations. He simply guides you. You could stop it at any time, Steven. He would still be with you, but you wouldn't have to do any of it. Granted, the power of persuasion is a powerful thing. Especially when it's something you want to begin with."

Stevie shifted nervously in his seat at the thought that he actually wasn't being forced into any of this. It flies in the face of what Gary told him to begin with. That whether he wanted it or not, it was happening.

"Demons lie, Steven. Not just Drotte. Baal'Nezz, despite my personal history with him, has a good heart. He saw your desire, and he shared it. He knew that you always wanted the life you have now. He knew you wanted to be the hero. The superstar living a life on the run. He knew you wanted to be a wrestler when you were a child, and that was a dream he shared. When he saw the door to enter your life and shove you in that direction, he went through it. In short, Steven…" She grabbed his glass of Dr. Pepper and gulped it all the way down. "…Stop being a pussy. Just do this already."

With that, she was suddenly not there. Stevie set his eyes on LJ who was eyeing him with a look of concern.

"Bro, are you ok? You just spaced out for about 5 minutes."

"You know what? I'm doing this. I'm fucking doing this."

"Leroy Jenkins, sir. Leroy Jenkins."

They paid their checks and took a walk back to LJ's car. Neither talked much. Stevie didn't feel Gary tonight. What he felt instead, was a swelling sense of pride. Of hope. The angel had done her job.

Just before they arrived at the parking garage, a white-haired man in a suit with cowboy boots and a Bible stood in front of them.

"Why hello there, brothers! My name's Lenny and I just wanna' share the good news with ya'! The world is ENDING, ya'll! THE WORLD IS ENDING, AND YOU CAN BE SAVED! You hear me!? You hear what I'm sayin' to ya'?"

He tries to hand them a flyer, but Stevie and LJ just veer past him and on into the parking garage. As they go by, Lenny dials his cell phone.

"Well I'll be a horse's ass, you were right. Poor boy's just walkin' around in public like not a soul's after him. Don't you worry. Ol' Lenny didn't get invited into The Order of the Owl for nothin'. You know that. I'll take care of him soon enough."

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