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Post by PANGAEA on May 21, 2015 20:30:13 GMT
 -v-  [Single Match]Jake Mandell vs. Pedro Gonzales |
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Post by Pedro Gonzales on May 23, 2015 16:39:52 GMT
He sleeps.
Contrary to the excited exaltations given by Ramona Holiday, he is not dead. He was not crushed, killed, or destroyed. He's going to be hurting for a while as a result of that match but it's really nothing time and proper maintenance won't cure, further proving what he and I have known all along. These demons that run roughshod through Pangaea are mere mortals with wax wings waiting for that one bright sun to send them back down to earth. The reason why we keep repeating this is because while the powers that be of Pangaea--Smokes and whoever else has managed to bankroll this mess--promote men like Olethros as the big bad in the scenario, we know that the real big bad needs no Herald to trumpet his arrival. The true monsters corrode, not demolish. They do it in a way so slow and so menacing that by the time you find out it's coming, it's too late to stop it. It's a process of elimination, really. The roster members of this company make too much noise. Hence they cannot be the downfall of anything.
And so as my host sleeps, I--Jiminy Goddamn Cricket--turn my sights on the next guy before Pedro even wakes. Deep down inside this low key, under-appreciated, gangly body of possibility is me. I am the part of the grey matter that thinks the things he’ll never say. I plot. I plan. I’m just a little piece of what he could be.
Perhaps he will see Jake Mandell briefly in a dream he is destined to forget. A question pops out from the air from the snaggle toothed yokel: "Who the fuck is Pedro Gonzales anyway?" A brilliant question. This is one that should start with what he isn't.
Note the other rookies in view and see how they see themselves. Brooklyn Blake sees herself as a wrestler because of her last name. Armada sees himself as a wrestler among his many other titles: professional gamer and shill monkey are but two of them. Pedro has equal, if not greater, experience. Yet despite it all, he does not claim the moniker no more than he claims the fabricated nicknames on his bio page. Why? Simple. He feels that the title of "wrestler" should be earned. That means taking your lumps, training when you can, learning from your mistakes...there's a lot more to it than just standing in a ring. He knows this and won't sully that proud label until it's well deserved. Nor is he still a cashier. That was what he was not who he is.
So who is he? Speaking to the man himself, he would go through his history, building it up, slugging through the was to get to the is. But myself...I can shorten that answer in quick order. Pedro Gonzales is the future. He doesn't quite know it yet and even if he did, he's not the type to crow about it like every other Tom, Dick, and Harry Kane. Pedro is a blank slate painted on only by his experiences which are, in short form, a little bit of wrestling followed by the barbarianism that comes with seeing your co-workers and innocents die following soonthereafter by dying yourself. Built on that foundation, the once petrified young man goes into the next match stronger even after the thrashing. Because really, after having your flesh and blood devoured by the very people you’re trying to entertain, what’s one jackass in a mask or one hardcore hillbilly or anybody else going to do to him that hasn’t already been done?
I’ll answer that. Not a whole hell of a lot.
So when he wakes up in two hours time and looks at the card, seeing his name against Jake Mandell’s, he will more than likely nod. The Pangaea cameras will try to get him to say something juicy for their web show. They will fail miserably just like every other time they’ve tried since he signed. He will train every day even when the pain of Olethros’ assault tries to take him down. He will watch the promotional videos. He will prepare himself. Then when the time is neigh, he will go out to that ring and wrestle until either he wins or somebody’s forced to carry him out.
Some wrestle for money, some for fame, Avalon grappled for her daddy’s love. They usually waste their money on the frivolous, despise trading their privacy for the limelight, and let’s be honest, if daddy doesn’t love you now, he never will. Pedro does it because somebody’s got to make the sacrifices worthwhile.
That’s who Pedro Gonzales is. Now the question: who is Jake Mandell anyway?
A man who beats people up for the sake of it. Never says quit, never says die, can’t even say the name of the fed right. (Perfectly fine, by the way. It gets so hard to remember how that goes.) Also not a wrestler, more of a brawler. He shoots straight. Usually talks about breaking necks because apparently, that’s his fetish. Most importantly with two losses under his belt, he will surely be out for blood.
What do I expect from him? Given the way he so elegantly phrased his question, I’d say he’d underestimate us. Big shocker there. It’s what we’re used to at first glance. Even if he did watch our matches, he’ll still say something along the lines of take bumps before I give you lumps something something break you neck. In other words, that’s pretty much every wrestling promo that has ever happened. And seeing as how he holds the status quo of getting his ass beat by a “gimp” and an “old man” respectfully…It’s admirable, the way he takes his beatings. But after hurling such insults at your opponents and then failing, that’s makes him a lesser being than the gimp and the old man, wouldn’t one think?
Just imagine him losing to Pedro.
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Post by Jake Mandell on May 27, 2015 20:11:02 GMT
I lost to a gimp and a daredevil.
You're right.
I lost to an old man who I thought was way past his prime.
You're right.
I'm gonna lose to you?
Deadfuckingwrong.
Regardless of your dream, regardless of what you think will happen at Pangy Episode 3, I will not lose to Pedro Gonzales. The Pride of Mexico he may be, but a winner over Jake The Great he is not. I may not know who the fuck you are or what you even do for a living, but that is irrelevant. Everything that you have ever done is irrelevant.
What matters most is living in the moment. Capitalising on the opportunity that is presented in front of you. A fighting spirit may live within Pedro's dead brain cells but it's nothing more than that. It's a dead dream that lives inside of him. This... "thing" that Pedro thinks will help him will do no such thing because I'm gunna make sure that nothing else is in my head except of what I'm thinking. No outside voices. No inner voices. Just mine, and mine alone.
I may not be a have become a commercial success here in PANG...PENG... Pangy. Let's face it, I overestimated Cesar Salazar and lost to him because of one simple mistake. It's a loss, I admit it. I'm not gonna say that he didn't deserve the win because in the end I was the one who has the 'L' next to my name.
But I don't intend to stop because of a few minor hiccups. I find it oddly calming that two men that I have had to face will be going against each other. It makes me feel like that I've still got a lot to learn, and the two people who beat me have actually progressed to the semi-finals only helps validate my feelings.
But my feelings doesn't matter.
It doesn't matter what the gimp and the old man are doing either.
What matters is what happens next. Between me and the sleeping undead Mexican (or something like that I dunno what the fuck he was talking about).
Pedro, I don't know if you think you are the fucking Green Goblin or whatever that superhero shit is all about but trust me when I say that thinking you are fucking Superman isn't worth a damn. Your long black curly locks aren't gonna stop me from beating your ass one way or another. Maybe you are Superman, but I don't see a fucking 'S' underneath that shirt of yours. I don't see your laser beams or fire breath or whatever the fuck Superman does these days.
I see a scared little Mexican man who should have hobbled back to his humble beginnings. I'm your kryptonite, bitch.
If I face the demon then I'm gonna kick it right back inside you and send your ass to Tijuana or wherever you are from.
If I face lowly ass Pedro?
I'm just gonna do the same thing, minus kicking the demon back inside you.
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Post by Pedro Gonzales on May 28, 2015 21:23:09 GMT
There’s been a lot of lies spewed out about Pedro Gonzales. Character assassinations come from the woodwork. One man says “he looks like he’s homeless” clearly confusing him with Trashcan Sam who actually is homeless. Another calls him an arrogant cunt for...no reason, really. Perhaps Cutter was looking at himself in the mirror that day. Jake Mandell claims that Pedro thinks he’s Superman. He hasn’t really interacted with any of these people and at least one admits he’s never seen any of Pedro’s work and yet...here they are. They make accusations, presumptions, and apparently they can read minds despite the fact that Pangaea wants that mythical thing called realism.
The truth is often stranger than fiction. When looked at for a period longer than one second, anybody with half a brain knows that these people are full of absolute shit. And if it were them suddenly at his end of the barrage, they’d be hooting and hollering until their voices are sore. They want him to do the same. They mock him in an attempt to poke the bear. They want a response. For what? So they can drag him down and say “See? I told you he was this way or that way!”
Hearing his opponent’s words, Pedro couldn’t help but feel a little sad for Jake. He shows off his faux-arrogance, puffs his chest up, and proceeds with his posturing as if that proves some sort of superiority. But just like Jake’s feelings for his past combatants doesn’t matter, neither does his words. They fly around but don’t necessarily go anywhere. What really matters, the heart and soul of the business, is the happenings in the ring.
Convergence showed Pedro’s smarts and Jake’s resilience. Night One of World War Three showed a sampling of one man’s possibilities even in defeat while giving equal time to what happens when one gets a bit too full of themselves with the other. Night Two is an empty chapter in a book. Nobody knows what the future holds. All they can do is prepare for it. So while others choose to talk, Pedro Gonzales spends the night before the show rewatching his match from Night One. He thinks about all the things he did well and those that he could work on. He steels himself at the brutality of Olethros’ offence. He feels the crush of defeat all over again.
And as Cesar Salazar enters the screen, a respectful nod is given with a silent promise close by.
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