NAPW: Diablo vs Ca$h

[Ryan Ro [NAPW]]

Diablo vs Ca$h

Diablo finally gets a singles match-up, when he squares off against newcomer Ca$h. Ca$h acquitted himself quite well in REBEL last week, now he sets foot for the first time into his new home fed. This one could steal the show.

[Ca$h]

Fade in to a small apartment just outside of downtown Calgary. The view out of the single window looks out over... Well, it doesn't look out over anything so much as it looks across over something. That something is the alleyway between this building and the next. Though, if you open the window and crane your neck outside, you can see a bit of sky on a clear day. Maybe a bird if you're lucky.

Anyway, the apartment isn't exactly the most well-furnished. A single coffee table sits in front of a single couch, next to the single window. A single TV/VCR sits on a single end table, and a single man sits, in gym shorts and a t-shirt, watching it. It's the video of last month's NAPW Unified show, filmed from the perspective of a fan in the second row. The angle suggests that security wouldn't have been pleased to see the camera, and the quality of the video suggests that the filmer wouldn't have cared too much, as long as he got to keep the tape.

Scouting videos are in high demand on the indy circuit black market.

Ca$h sits on the aforementioned couch, scribbling onto a yellow legal pad. He looks up at the video as the current match ends, and the interesting part begins. He tears off the page he was scribbling on, and tosses it aside without bothering to crumple it up. A crudely drawn doggie floats to the floor.

"Here we go. Let's see what you got."

A fresh sheet of paper is the canvas, a short stub of a pencil is the brush, and a scouting report is the (hopeful) masterpiece.

More scribbles as Diablo enters the arena. A small drawing of a buxom woman appears in the top corner of the page, but she is quickly erased and replaced with an even more "gifted" woman. A circle goes around her, and the pencil returns to the lined portion of the page.

As the match rages on, words fly onto the yellow paper. Ca$h flips through the match with the fast forward and rewind buttons, rewatching the important bits. The match ends after a few nice turnarounds, and Ca$h hits the stop button. A few last impressions hit the page, and finally, he puts the pencil down to admire his work. With a satisfied smile, he puts the pad down, stands up, and goes into the kitchen for a well-deserved snack.

The camera pans onto the legal pad, and just three words are there, in large dark lettters, almost as if they'd been written with a Sharpie marker...

FAT
SLOW
DUMB

The camera pans back up, and follows our star into the kitchen. Just like everything else in the apartment, it's not exactly the highest-quality. A lone stretch of countertop sits underneath two cupboards -- the only furnishing in the place that isn't a single -- and both cupboard doors are wide open, displaying a large range of food, from macaroni and cheese to ramen noodles. A can of instant soup tops off the cornucopia, adding just the right touch to a well-balanced diet.

From the cupboards to the corner wall sits a fridge. Not just any fridge, this fridge is the green tint of appliances made in the late 1970s, and the interior doesn't do anything to deny the fact. Sparse wire racks and a single drawer labeled simply "meat" are the order of the day, and half-empty bottles of condiments line the shelf on the door. Ca$h reaches in for a bottle of hot sauce, and closes the door most of the way. A strip of velcro holds the door completely shut on the outside.

The hot sauce bottle is almost empty as it is, and the remaining portion goes into a pan on the stove, mixing with the contents of a chicken-flavored seasoning packet and a mass of noodles. Most of the water was drained off while the cameraman inspected the cupboards.

As the ingredients of the cheapest meal on earth are mixed, Ca$h speaks to the camera. His left eye is blackened, and a razor cut is patched with a square of toilet paper on the right side of his chin. After a brief cue from the man behind the camera, Ca$h pulls it off and tosses it over his shoulder, narrowly missing the pan on the stove. It lands in the gas flame and burns up.

"So, my debut in REBEL was a failure. Don't get me wrong, eliminating one of the tag champs felt pretty good, but the circumstances weren't exactly tough. I mean, the guy went to the top rope in a battle royal, he wasn't a hard target. But overall, fifth eliminated out of ten? Not the way I wanted to start things off in my new surroundings."

He looks down to see his meal fully mixed, and turns off the stove. Producing a bowl from the nearby pile of freshly washed dishes, he dries it completely with the front of his shirt and pours the noodles from the pan. A fork comes from another pile, and he walks back into the living room/dining room/bedroom, falling into the overstuffed couch.

"But, get this. Not only does someone recognize me after the show, but I get to sign an autograph for the first time in almost a year. Apparently this kid moved into the States from Toronto a few months ago, and he remembered me from my title run the last time I wrestled in Canada. So, I signed some merch for him, and got his older sister's digits. All in a day's work for a former world champ."

The last sentence is muffled by a wad of noodles being piled into his mouth, but he manages to chew and swallow before speaking again.

"Did I say 'former' world champ? I meant 'former and future'. You see, that battle royal was just the first rung of the ladder for me. That was my coming out of retirement match, my first action back from multiple surgeries, and I outlasted five other men, eliminating a REBEL champion in the process. Imagine what I'll be able to do when I'm 100% again."

Another large bite of ramen, this time when he's done talking for a bit. A look of sheer delight crosses his face, as he thoroughly enjoys the meal. Another few seconds to chew and swallow, and his attention turns once again to the camera.

"Of course, I managed to take in the sights before I had to get down to Tobacco Country for the REBEL show. An early move allowed me the chance to do a bit of scouting, as you saw earlier. I never got the chance to watch the tape before I caught my flight, but now that I have a whole week to prepare, I figured I'd get it done early.

This Diablo guy is shorter than me, slower than me, dumber than me, and he's got the personality of a house plant. Seriously, I've seen ficuses with larger vocabularies."

The last bites of noodles disappear into his mouth, and he stands to take the bowl to the sink while he finishes. A quick rinse, and the bowl returns to the 'clean but still wet' pile. The fork receives the same treatment.

Ca$h walks past the camera, out the door, and into the apartment's communal laundry room. Peeling off the wife-beater tee, he reaches into a dryer, and pulls out a blue button-up shirt, throwing it on over his bare chest. A pair of jeans are traded for the gym shorts, and the cameraman looks away while he changes. His landlady, sitting in the corner waiting for her clothes to dry, doesn't.

When the quick-change is done, Ca$h turns back to the camera, leaving the gym shorts in a nearby basket to be washed later. The shirt reads "Bob's Auto Repair" on the left chest, and a tag with the name "Jake" is sewn to the right. Who Jake is, nobody knows, but whoever he is, he's missing a shirt.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a date with a '68 Camaro and her busted carb."

He walks by the cameraman, covering the lens with his hand as he passes.

FADE TO BLACK

[diablo]

[Scene fades into a gym in Hollywood. Diablo is training for his next match by sparring
with some noname jobber. The jobber goes down and is slow to get up]

Diablo: I'm singin' in the rain. [kicks the jobber in the side]
Just singin' in the rain. [kicks the jobber in the head]
What a glorious feelin'.
I'm happy again. [picks up jobber]

I'm laughin' at clouds [enzuguiri's jobber.]
So dark up above. [kicks jobber ]
The sun's in my heart [picks up jobber]
And I'm ready for love. [gives jobber a heart punch and picks him back up again]

Let the stormy clouds chase [whips jobber into corner]
Everyone from the place. [follows jobber with a splash in the corner]
Come on with the rain, [throws jobber into the ropes]
And a smile on my face. [clotheslines jobber]

I walk down the lane [picks up jobber]
With a happy refrain [places jobber on top of the turnbuckle]
Just singin', [Long Drop into Hell on jobber]
And swingin' in the rain.[throws jobber over the top rope]

Diablo: Ah.. just having a little fun. I see the E.M.T.s have arrived to take care of
my victim, so I wont worry about him.. like I would have anyway. You see.. I have a new
attitude in life. Take what you can get.. by hook or by crook. No ones been nice to me
since I came to NAPW.. except for my former business associates. They are the only ones
that truly know what the hell is going on. Even that is not important right now. What is
the most important thing right now is me.

Second on my list is a title. I dont care if its the belt worn by Rees or even some cheap
NWA belt. I just want one. And I will do whatever it takes to achieve my goal.
Ca$h.. You carry on about being a former World Champion. Hell.. I was a champ to.. but To
quote a Monkee's song, "That Was Then, This is Now".
You are just a "Stepping Stone". After we battle, you will wish you took
"The Last Train to Clarksville".. you "Daydream Believer" you..

[Diablo chuckles to himself then glares at the cameraman for a second]

Diablo: And for the rest of you little NAPW pukes.. Phoenix and Astros may have looked evil to you,
but when I get through with Ca$h and the rest of you it shall make them look like kids show sh*t.
You will pay for all of your transgressions against me. Now.. get that camera out of my face before
I shove itup your.. well.. heh... think creatively.

[fade]