Cortez/Corvus vs Jackson/Williams

[Ryan Cooke]

Good luck to both teams!

[bigbadcortez]

Leaving Miami
(Miami, Miami. A very diverse city, immigrant populations from the Caribbean gives some ethic neighborhoods flair. Taking in all the cultural glow of his ancestors, Cortez moves though the street crowd. Everyone is haggling over the stands in this small market. It is probably the only bright spot in the tiny and torn neighborhood known as Saint Jose Plaza or SJP. It’s a strong, closely-knit Cuban community in reach Cortez was raised. However, recently Haitian immigrants have started to settle down in the North proportion and ever since then gangs of youth have meet occasionally, only ending in bloodshed and tragedy. In recent months, the violence has escalated. Gangs are form and they identified not by gang color, but by race. A part of Cortez is appreciative that he is going to escape before being caught up in this senseless turmoil.)

Big Bad Cortez
Amigo, one to go please. Gracias.

(Miguel hands him a loaf of bread, made early in the morning in his home bakery. Cortez has considered a luxury. Cortez move towards the center of the worn down plaza, where the past five decades it has been overran by street merchants, even since the first strong wave of Cuban exiles came into this area. The city has refused to renovate, and every brother’s politician that is sent into an office of power soon forgets his roots. Cortez takes a seat down by the broken fountain, pulling off a bite to eat from his loaf. Cortez is a peaceful man and in solitude, this is one of the few places he enjoys to eat lunch. Everyday he chooses this spot, rain or shine, and it’s another one of the rituals he’s going to have to forfeit for this new job. Cortez stares up at the cloudless sky.)

Big Bad Cortez
Oh father, you will be proud of me now. I’m going to be something, a real somebody just like Ramón. You don’t have to worry about me. I finally found my way though life. No drugs. No extorting. No working for Mr. Ortiz. I’m finally found my own path, one that won’t stain my hands in blood.

(Cortez takes another bite. Reminiscing, he remembers all the advice his father has given him prior to his disappearance. Right here is the spot, ironically, that they found his severed head. The police never full solve the case. Yet Cortez knows too well, his father has been working the wrong people, at the wrong time. The beginning of the long war between the Haitians and Cubans has devoured him, probably one of the first victims. His death is his final lesson to Cortez, not to get involved no matter how much he is courted by the infamous yet behind the scene, Mr. Juan Ortiz. With Cortez size and strength, let’s just say there has been a lot of courting, especially since Cortez has gained a hundred pounds of muscle in the past year.)

Eddie Cortez
What are you doing here, brother? Have you forgotten about our lunch over at Cantina?

Big Bad Cortez
You know me, brother… I’m very forgetful. It completely slipped my mind. I am trying to enjoy my last day here, do what I always do.

Eddie Cortez
I take it you not going to go to the club with me tonight. That’s all right, but you can’t forget that you and I must remain close no matter how far of a distance separates us.

Big Bad Cortez
You and I, we’re the Cortez brothers. Nothing ever is going separate us.

Eddie Cortez
Nothing better not. No women, no money, no nothing. You and I need to remember this is what father wanted. He wanted us to remain together.

(Cortez just laughs at his brother, Eddie. The man is wearing a prim and proper business suit. It’s a sign that he has actually made something out of his life. ADA, Assistant District Attorney, and he is a hero of the Cuban-American community of Miami. How funny that with a father a gangster, his sons are clean. Clean of the father’s sin. Eddie takes a seat next to Cortez. Never in his life has Cortez seen his brother return to the scene of the crime. Eddie seems a little emotional, as if the visual of seeing his father’s head in the center of a crowd returns to him in a flashback. As young men, they were so excited in seeing what all the commotion was. Of course, to their dismay… their father’s mistakes have came back and paid a fatal price.)

Eddie Cortez
I don’t understand it. Why do you come to this spot everyday for lunch? How can you manage to eat while knowing father’s head just rested here?

Big Bad Cortez
I feel father’s presence here. Maybe I’m just superstitious or what not, but bro… I feel connected to him. It also reminds me of what has to be done.

Eddie Cortez
Do go on.

Big Bad Cortez
Father’s final lesson was in death, you see? He told us that getting involved in that mess will only end up with us getting killed. Now, I know father was desperate to bring food to our table but there are other ways to feed one. You went to school. I worked my ass off, putting my way though various trainers, for this day that I will become a fighter… a pro-wrestler. It’s only right that everyday, I come here… to remember, not to let that last lesson to fade from my memory.

Eddie Cortez
Still, I don’t think I can eat here. Just… too strong of a bad memory.

Big Bad Cortez
This is why they always considered me to be the tall, strong and stupid ox and you the intelligent hawk. I’m durable. I can overcome pain. I already have. You’re just a little too sensitive, bro.

Eddie Cortez
Don’t let anyone get away with calling you stupid. You act stupid, but I know you’re really smart in the inside and just don’t want anyone to know that.

Big Bad Cortez
it’s all an act. I lay in waiting, until someone underestimate me, and then BANG! I teach them a thing or two for thinking a giant like me has to be totally mentally handicapped. If anything, I have bigger brains than anyone in this plaza.

Eddie Cortez
A bigger stomach at that! You finished a loaf already!

Big Bad Cortez
I guess I need to go get another loaf from Miguel.

(Eddie stands up and waits for the laughter to die down. Eddie motions for Cortez to get up off the bench. Eddie gives his brother a strong embrace, kissing him on the cheek)

Eddie Cortez
Don’t forget to call me, brother. I’ll be watching you on television when the time comes. Don’t you worry, I’ll be rooting you. The entire city will be behind you. Don’t you forget? You have a niece on the way, so if you find anytime to come down after she is born; I want her to meet her uncle.

Big Bad Cortez
Will do. Will do. I see you soon.

Eddie Cortez
Take care.

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(The scene is nothing more but a roadside motel room. Outdated décor, probably brought secondhand, used already from some salvation army. The camera is sat up, directly in front of the bed. A mirror shows it standing there on its tripod. Big Bad Cortez enters the room, having to duck slightly due to the low ceiling… well low ceiling for him. He stands there, petting his handlebar mustache, extending across his face. There is a wide grin plastered upon his face. You can tell, he is very excited for this match. )

Big Bad Cortez
Here it is. It’s almost time for my debut in professional wrestling. I’m excited. I’m anxious to move on up from the backstreet brawls, the warehouse fights, the boxing ring, to the professional wrestling circuit. I think have proven myself in those venues to be a mean mother fucker. Pardon my langue, ladies who happen to be listening. I just have to get a point across to this team who are probably thinking highly of themselves, getting cocky way before the fight begins. Don’t do it. It’s a big bad mistake, pun intended, to get overconfident when you step in the ring with a man who can crush your skull. I’m not over relying on my strength, I might be a titan but do worry, amigos, I can move quick enough so you won’t be running circles around me.

Now, I heard about you, Mr. Aaron Williams. You like to say you’re simply amazing, well I heard differently from several sources. You’re far from amazing. You have to do cheap shit in the ring to get the upper hand, or otherwise, you end up getting owned in the ring. What is it? You can’t fight fairly; you need to pull out your bag of dirty tricks. You know what that says about you? It says you’re a pathetic man. You have no respect for yourself. You’re not different from one of the whores down on the street corner, selling their bodies. But it’s not your body you’re disrespecting, it’s your image you’re insulting… it’s not only your image, it’s your family image. Now, they have to live knowing their son can’t live honestly. He can’t do his job so he has to resort to taking short cuts. You know what, I hate people like that. I hate people who drag their family down.

It’s exactly what you’re doing. No amount of money, no number of wins, can compensate for the fact that your parents have failed in raising you. I just want to know how they feel about it. What’s going though their heads, when they watch you stoop so low? Damn it hurts me just to think it about it. To have a son that’s nothing but trash. Yet, you know what. I’m going to clean up the trash. Maybe in doing so, you learn a thing or two about respect You’d learn a thing or two about doing things the honorable way. A few fists in your fact should due to the trick.

(Big Bad Cortez shifts his spot, taking a seat in bed. He lets out a little laugh and then stares at the camera again. He continues you on.)

I don’t know much about your partner. I do know about mine. I never met the man. I never even have talked to the man yet. Yet I have seen hours of film. The man is amazing in the ring, and I think this is going to be learning experience for me. You guys don’t know what you have gotten yourself into for signing up in this match, I don’t even think Corvus needs me in the ring to finish up you two chumps. Seriously, he has traveled the land and he has proven himself to be an A-class wrestler. Everything with his style, his expertise, compliments mine. It’s going to be a great partner, and I know he’s not going to hog whole the glory. Even if he does, so be it. I’m a man who’s just hunting for my first win, to start on the good foot in this sport. I know I can do it. I will do it. No Jackson. No Williams can stop me in my goal.

Now, I don’t know you Jackson. Let’s just hope that’s your not a piece of shit like your partner there. I don’t know, if I was you, I would protest about being given Aaron Williams as my teammate. He’s seems to be a whiny little bitch. A man who can taint anyone’s image who is willing to affiliate themselves closely. Now, to you, I hope for a nice and clean fight. I hope, naively as it sounds, that you are not like him and you are going to be a honorable man. To you, I Wish you good luck and may the better man wins.

I see you Sunday Night.

(End Feed)