Post by Ryan Hughes on Jul 29, 2010 9:47:54 GMT -5
Part I – The Beginning
Part II – Smoke and Mirrors
Chihuahua - Mexico
This was foreign land for Ryan. Well, it would be for anyone who isn't Mexican, obviously. Ever since Hughes stepped off the plane and out of the dusty airport, he was confronted with sights that he never saw before. Almost every road contained at least one goat, or one horse. This wasn't one of the regenerated areas that the world's media generally report on, this was just about a shanty town. Clutching his map, the Mancunian tries to find any places of interest that may contain the man he is looking for. He couldn't ask anyone for his whereabouts- firstly because they may not know him, or because they just can't understand the Englishman. Stopping at a nearby petrol station, his search and broken Spanish lead to nothing, as he is promptly thrown out for insulting the man behind the counter. Go figure. As he is hurried from the door, a man in a sombrero approaches the former champion.
“Por favor amigo, do you have a smoke?”
“...no.”
The rogue Mexican advances, flashing something from under his grimy poncho.
“Señor, I need your money.”
“.....”
Ryan doesn't respond, still focusing on the knife this man is holding. He had heard of this situation befalling on other people in the past, but he never thought it would happen to him. Hughes slowly begins to back-pedal, pressing himself up against the wall with seemingly no way out from this bandito. The champ whimpers, before shutting his eyes, preparing himself for the inevitable. The expected plunge of the knife never arrives, and a trembling Hughes gathers up the courage to raise an eyelid, ready to stare his future killer in the face. What he does see however is something totally unexpected.
The bandito is on the floor, being pounded with fists and stomps from two men. One man has dark hair, and a tanned look, and has the criminal in a headlock, pummelling his skull with closed fists. The other is a much darker person, maybe mixed race, and he dons a bandana, obviously looking the part for Mexico. He stands tall over the ground bandit, dropping a boot on him every now and again. It isn't long before the man is unconscious. To which the tanned man with the dark hair releases him, before spitting on his carcass. Hughes is still in shock and awe of what he just saw. These men just saved his life, but something doesn't add up right. These men look familiar to the Batman, as if he has seen them before. Before he has a chance to say anything, the two goons approach him. The first one to speak is the mixed race gentleman.
“I simple 'thank you' would suffice, brah.”
Hughes still has an open mouth, but nothing but oxygen is coming out of it. The darker man notices, piping up once more.
“What's up man, cat got yo' tongue?”
“Uh... do I know you guys?”
“You should do, unless you like forgetting the men you threw out of the wrestling business.”
Hughes all of a sudden doesn't feel as safe. The two men stare menacingly at Hughes, and the champion goes white from the blood draining from his face. The tension is broken however by a hand which grips the shoulders of both men, a hand belonging to a guy with long hair, who Hughes hasn't seen for ages...
“Smarky?”
“Indeed, Ryan, good to see you again. And surely you remember these fine gentlemen, don't you?”
Hughes slowly shakes his head, and Smarky chuckles, before putting his arm around the darker man who was giving him lip moments earlier.
“Mr. Chip Diddy...”
He then moves to the other man, who's smile grows further.
“And your good friend.... El Nacho Grande.”
TBC in Part IV
Comments Appreciated.
Part II – Smoke and Mirrors
Chihuahua - Mexico
This was foreign land for Ryan. Well, it would be for anyone who isn't Mexican, obviously. Ever since Hughes stepped off the plane and out of the dusty airport, he was confronted with sights that he never saw before. Almost every road contained at least one goat, or one horse. This wasn't one of the regenerated areas that the world's media generally report on, this was just about a shanty town. Clutching his map, the Mancunian tries to find any places of interest that may contain the man he is looking for. He couldn't ask anyone for his whereabouts- firstly because they may not know him, or because they just can't understand the Englishman. Stopping at a nearby petrol station, his search and broken Spanish lead to nothing, as he is promptly thrown out for insulting the man behind the counter. Go figure. As he is hurried from the door, a man in a sombrero approaches the former champion.
“Por favor amigo, do you have a smoke?”
“...no.”
The rogue Mexican advances, flashing something from under his grimy poncho.
“Señor, I need your money.”
“.....”
Ryan doesn't respond, still focusing on the knife this man is holding. He had heard of this situation befalling on other people in the past, but he never thought it would happen to him. Hughes slowly begins to back-pedal, pressing himself up against the wall with seemingly no way out from this bandito. The champ whimpers, before shutting his eyes, preparing himself for the inevitable. The expected plunge of the knife never arrives, and a trembling Hughes gathers up the courage to raise an eyelid, ready to stare his future killer in the face. What he does see however is something totally unexpected.
The bandito is on the floor, being pounded with fists and stomps from two men. One man has dark hair, and a tanned look, and has the criminal in a headlock, pummelling his skull with closed fists. The other is a much darker person, maybe mixed race, and he dons a bandana, obviously looking the part for Mexico. He stands tall over the ground bandit, dropping a boot on him every now and again. It isn't long before the man is unconscious. To which the tanned man with the dark hair releases him, before spitting on his carcass. Hughes is still in shock and awe of what he just saw. These men just saved his life, but something doesn't add up right. These men look familiar to the Batman, as if he has seen them before. Before he has a chance to say anything, the two goons approach him. The first one to speak is the mixed race gentleman.
“I simple 'thank you' would suffice, brah.”
Hughes still has an open mouth, but nothing but oxygen is coming out of it. The darker man notices, piping up once more.
“What's up man, cat got yo' tongue?”
“Uh... do I know you guys?”
“You should do, unless you like forgetting the men you threw out of the wrestling business.”
Hughes all of a sudden doesn't feel as safe. The two men stare menacingly at Hughes, and the champion goes white from the blood draining from his face. The tension is broken however by a hand which grips the shoulders of both men, a hand belonging to a guy with long hair, who Hughes hasn't seen for ages...
“Smarky?”
“Indeed, Ryan, good to see you again. And surely you remember these fine gentlemen, don't you?”
Hughes slowly shakes his head, and Smarky chuckles, before putting his arm around the darker man who was giving him lip moments earlier.
“Mr. Chip Diddy...”
He then moves to the other man, who's smile grows further.
“And your good friend.... El Nacho Grande.”
TBC in Part IV
Comments Appreciated.
