Description: In celebration for the epic victory of six fighters versus Ryu and Ken (Shut up, it's a lot more impressive than it sounds) El Fuerte decides to throw a fiesta!! And no one shows up!! Except for one blind woman who happens to like his cooking and even offers some pointers for future recipes...it's like a Christmas miracle!!!
It's SUUUUPER DYNAMIIIIC /FIESTA/ TIIIIME!!!
After the utterly glorious and epic victory of El Fuerte's team over the Legendary World Warriors Ryu and Ken, El Fuerte felt the need to celebrate! He had given out invitations to all that had participated, including his foes Ryu and Ken, but hardly anyone had turned out saying that they 'had a thing'. It must have been quite important to miss out on El Fuerte's /spectacular/ cooking for sure, no way that the people he invited are not showing up because they don't like his cooking, no that couldn't be it at all.
Nevertheless, El Fuerte luchador isn't one that gets easily depressed, his boundless energy and enthusiasm covers far more than just inside the ring. So when almost no one showed up he just started handing out random invitations to anyone who wanted to join in on the festivities. Soon enough there's a few people sampling the incredibly spicy chalupas, strange banana sushi and some kind of octopus soup that seems to be still alive. "That's how you know it's good!" Says the luchador as he eats the wiggling tentacle with chopsticks and looks about on the crowd. Maybe he'll recognize someone, who knows?
Who would have thought?
Among El Fuerte's travels handing out random invitations to people, one of the invitations was forced into her hands. The pale-skinned woman with near-black sunglasses felt over the card. It was embossed for whatever reason, meaning that whoever made it was making a big deal about it. She could slowly spell out what the card said. It was in English, but said something about a Mexican Restaurant. Now there's a novel thought. She may have just gotten off the boat from China, but if there's one thing this suit clad woman had a penchant for, it was North American Cuisine. Mexican was easily her favorite, and there was no better place to get it than Americatow-- I mean Southtown.
Unfortunately, along the way, the girl seemed to get lost. They don't exactly make maps for blind people. dark grey eyes hid well behind glasses. She was about to give up, but something caught her nose. Spices. That's what she wanted to smell. She could smell the Srirachas, and if there's one thing this girl loves, it's her hot and spicy food. Her nose carried her forward, and before she knew it, she heard voices. 100 feet... 50... 0. It was a party. But there didn't seem to be too many people. Bells on the door went off, and her appearance was finally made. Was the Japanese Government here to see your Business license?
Last health inspector that tried to stir some crap with El Fuerte got FLYING GIGA BUSTA'd through a wall, so no, El Fuerte doubts they'll have the gall to send another one who is not proficient in fighting. Besides, El Fuerte's cooking just tastes really really weird, it's not like it's poisonous, most of the time, provided you're not allergic to it that is.
Come one come all he had said, the wrestler cares not who comes to join his fiesta. The more people that knew about the great exploits of his teammates against the World Warriors the better. Even know, the large plasma TV is showing a rerun of the fight with the highlights. Fuji may not be able to see it, but the sounds of fighting would be impossible to miss, particularly because there's not a whole lot of people here to make noise. Just a few scattered pockets of fighting afficionados that like Fuji, were mostly attracted by the promise of tasty Latin American cousine.
"Welcome Seņorita!" El Fuerte, being the host, is personally greeting all the people that are brave enough to wander in to try his cooking. Standing by the door wearing an apron and a large chef hat despite still wearing his mask, he waves the menu showing all the things that are offered on the buffet.
Fuji is a special case however, the wrestler frowns when he feels that there's something odd about her and seems to guess that she is in fact, blind. Well this won't do at all! She can't miss out on the epic names of his dishes just for some lousy handicap. Therefore he reaches behind him and hands Fuji one of the menus that is in in braille. This luchador is crazy prepared.
It was rare to have someone as prepared to serve as they were to cook. She sensed someone immediately beside her when she entered. When he spoke to her, her head turned, and she looked up towards him. It was obviously an attempt at TRYING to look at the Luchador, for she was actually looking at his neck, for whatever reason.
"Muchas Gracias, Seņor." She said. It had a suprisingly, and kind of creepy even tone to it. Neutral. Kind of like Kula, but less playful. Maybe she didn't play well with others. When El Fuerte's hand lifted to hand her the menu in Braille, She actually beat him, putting her hand out to receive the Menu. She bowed to him slightly, and between you, her Hook cane touched out on the ground. "Seņor." she said to him then. "Would you please guide me to a seat?" Well. At least she had manners.
Creepy means absolutely nothing to El Fuerte luchador. He is famous after all to creep out the people that are supposed to be creepy. Something about the way he carries himself with utterly no fear about anything combined with almost childish enthusiasm, then mix in an explosive array of Lucha Libre fighting techniques make a recipe for one spicy wrestler. Foolish and extravagant as he may be though, he is still a fighter, a skilled one at that and he notes how Fuji reaches for the braille menu as if she could see it. Perhaps he misjudged and the woman is not at all blind? Can't be, otherwise she would have refused it and it does seem like she's reading it. Odd, there's something very peculiar about this woman and it intrigues the luchador.
He dwells on this for a whole two seconds, a new personal record for the wrestler, before he perks up and gets a broad grin. "Of course, of course! Come right this way!" El Fuerte said with great excitement, Fuji's cold demeanor having no effect on his sunny personality. As it turns out, he's very well mannered himself and also seems to have no concept of personal space since he attempts to reach for Fuji's hand with a gentle touch to lead her to a table. "Come right this way, I'll bring you several of my /best/ plates just for you!" El Fuerte seems excited, too excited, but this shouldn't be strange to those who know him, he /always/ acts like this no matter what may be going on. "Your Spanish is really really good Seņorita. If I may ask where did you learn my language?" He rarely gets to hear it here in Southtown.
The dark haired woman seemed to quite mind her space. Though you tried to reach for her, you were quickly rejected by an open palm. This woman had personal space issues, apparently. She shifted, Left hand gripping on her cane. She had her head canted towards The Luchador. She was listening. The Mexican didn't exactly have much of an off button when it came to talking, so it was easy for the small lass to listen and follow him. She didn't seemed phased by the man's excitement, or rather, she didn't seem bothered by it. Her head turned. She could hear fighting. In a weird turn of events, she looked up at the screen for only a second, before her attention shifted to the Apron wearing luchador. His question about her knowing his language. She took a slow, semi shallow breath, and answered in Spanish. "I speak 8 different languages." She replied. Japanese people have funny accents when they're speaking anything but Japanese. "If time ever gets on my side, I'd like to go to Mexico for real." She was thumbing through the menu at this time, fingers quickly scanning the page, when she suddenly stopped, and retraced a set of bumps. "You are... Seņor El Fuerte, The Luchador Chef?"
"Ay!" El Fuerte being his giddy almost childlike self, reacted like a scolded child would when Fuji rejected his offer to hold her hand. Some would politely point out to the woman that such a movement wasn't necessary, or even react very negatively to it, however in El Fuerte's case, he seems to think that it was his fault for reaching without the woman's permission and just rubs his knuckles.
It takes naught but a second for El Fuerte to snap out of it and no sooner has Fuji been seated, he's already bringing plates for her to sample, filled with tasty quesadillas, chimichangas, tamales, fajitas, zopes and all the mexican delicacies that anyone could wish, or stand for that matter, eating all of them is not very recommended if they want to keep their liver. "Oooh!" El Fuerte is impressed! "Eight languages!? I only speak two!" And just barely he fails to mention. Reverting to Spanish he continues the conversation on that language not minding Fuji's peculiar accent. "Want to go to Mexico? Hah..I wouldn't recommend it considering all the Drug Cartels that reside there currently. It's quite a shame but even I'm steering clear since I can only body slam so many of them."
Eyes widen, it seems that he is recognized. "Si! That is me, El Fuerte luchador at your service! Have you heard of me?"
The strikingly pale woman lifted her head slowly, looking up towards the chef, who seemed perfectly adamant on feeding her quite the allotment of food. With every plate that came to her, the well dressed woman wafted the dishes towards her senses. Some were so spicy that the other people were drinking milk by the gallon just to get over the ultra Habanero the Luchador seemed to enjoy slamming in each one of his dishes. She drew it in. She wasn't showing it, but she was admiring the spices. Nobody cooks like this. Chinese people don't know how to make spicy food. The only asian countries that do it well in Asia are Thailand and India, as far as she was concerned. For the ease at keeping the luchador amused, the small Japanese woman kept the conversation in Spanish. It was testing her very knowledge of the language, but it was kind of entertaining for the relatively stoic woman. There was nothing like getting to publically use your knowledge. "I do not care what dangers there are." She explained neutrally. "The fact of the matter is, the food I like is there." Her ears perked. She was still listening to the fight and talking to you, while she sampled your food. "I have not, to be honest. The last few lines in your paragraph are trying to explain that you're the best chef ever." She shifted. "I am nearly inclined to believe that, but..." she looked up at you directly. "Your dishes don't strike me as being very hot."
Now that's an attitude that El Fuerte can respect. Nothing brings more pride to the luchador than hearing that someone is willing to risk their life fighting Drug Cartels simply to enjoy the delicious dishes of his country. It brings almost a tear to the wrestler, surely no other country could claim the same! If only Mexico wasn't the chaotic place that it was now, a sigh of regret and almost shame, it is hard to keep a patriotic outlook after all that is happening. At the very least, Fuji's claim gives him hope that not all is lost in the Land of Aztlan.
"Seņorita, I had no idea!" El Fuerte continues in Spanish. "It brings me great honor to think that you would go to such lengths to taste the food of my country!" Though it shouldn't surprise him, it is pretty freaking tasty. "It isn't as if I fear the Carteles, it's just that there's too many of them! And I have to continue fighting abroad." A shake of his head. "One day I will do something.."
But back to the food! "Ah seņorita! Don't be so quick to judge my dishes! If anything, they are not very spicy only upon request." These Japanese can only handle wasabi you see, and it tastes very different from habaneros and other peppers. "Now, if you are feeling brave I could..." A look around before he leans down to whisper. "Let you try one of my dishes that contains the legendary pepper Bhut Jolokia. The spicest pepper in the world.../after/ it was shot by one of Ryu's hadoukens." His eyes grow wild thinking of how spicy something like that could be. "What do you think? Think your taste buds can handle it such caliente spice?"
The Dark haired woman shifted. She always had a penchant for hot and spicy food. Her cane found it's way into her lap. It had three different grips on it-- one on the crook, one in the middle of the shaft, and one where the rubber stub was. Anyone with a weapon's knowledge would know this was by far no ordinary cane. She adjusted herself, folding the menu neatly in front of her. "I can't go there just yet, though, Seņor Fuerte. I have many things I must accomplish before I could even consider it." Her voice had very little, if any feel to it. She spoke much like a passive aggressive person-- The kind of person who one is never sure if they're just angsty or just a flat out bitch. Her hands folded on the table.
She realized you quite enjoyed talking about food. There was no doubt in her mind that this luchador, while as insane as he made himself out to be, could have been of some usage to her. She had better pick her words carefully around this man. Her nose sniffed the air. Did this woman have a strong sense of smell, like some kind of animal? She brushed an irritating lock of hair behind her ear slowly. "You are but one man, however." she mused then, thinking back to the dish. Oh man. Anything that hot would be great. She had yet to eat anything that made her feel the burn. That Indian Restaurant came close, but it wasn't quite enough. She looked up at the Mexican then.
"I bet you can't even cook it." she mused. A challenge!
El Fuerte had indeed noticed the strange design of the cane, but he paid it little mind. He's not all that well versed with weapons unfortunately, something he's trying to fix by dwelling on Garbage Wrestling and the only thing that he figures the cane is for is perhaps swung like a tonfa. Who knows? He is certain there is more to the woman than she lets on as he had realized by her quick reflexes, but at the moment he is far too concentrated on the food to pay attention to anything else. It's like he has the attention span of a hyperactive gnat.
It is exactly this personality which is required to brush off the cold storm given by Fuji. Lesser men might have gotten irritated with such a cold exterior, her lack of emotion and her clear disrespect to others around her. But El Fuerte, oh boy, El Fuerte just likes a challenge and recognizes one when he sees it. "QUEEEE!!??" His eyes widen, jaw slacks, hands raised to grab at his head. "You wound me with your harsh words!" Says he dramatically, grasping at his chest as if he had been shot. "But such will be your undoing! Prepare yourself to receive my greatest dish yet!"
The wrestler makes an acrobatic backwards somersault to leap clear over the counter and return with a forward flip with dish perfectly balanced in hand! "Bhut Joloki Chilli flash heated with Ryu's Hadouken! Nothing in this world can even come close to reaching it's /perfection/" A drop of it spills down and it's /steaming/
Ball is now on Fuji's court. El Fuerte settles the plate of glowing red lava like liquid before her whilst other costumers curiously look at what's going on. "Careful, it's hot!" Warns Fuerte.
By steaming, we mean it's burned a hole through a nearby chair.
Fuji knew she had asked a lot of this man before her. But if he's going to claim to be the best and hottest chef, he'd better be able to back up this tall, tall, even taller than that order! If there was something this woman knew how to do, it was provoke people. Usually this meant provoking them into becoming something better. The Luchador was only gone for a mere moment. It was then her focus seemed to narrow. She could sense people's positions in the restaurant. She learned quite quickly that people were looking at her, in her general direction. She could hear the whispers. "What's with her? "Did-- Did she just challenge him?" "Does she got some kind of deathwish?" "Is she crazy?" Many of those pulled at her, and got her to wondering, just HOW good was El Fuerte's cooking? All his other meals seemed lackluster because noone else would eat them. They weren't bad, per se...
But they weren't good either.
This dish that came to her then, almost immediately after she called him out to make her the spiciest, hottest food he could possibly ever imagine. A chili, none the less. As this bowl was parked in front of her, she wafted it in with her palm, inhaling Deeply. "Mm. A Habanero Puree, doused in vinegar, 3 pinches of Cayenne pepper-- merely a dish for children." she said, inhaling a little sharper. "Mou? What's this. This must be the Bhut Joloki I sense...." She almost purred that last word out. "It's irritating, even slightly absurd, like a bad house guest." Fuji was a prime example of said house guest. "I smell... A Srirachas Glaze, a hint of bell pepper for sweetness... Hrm." her hand touched the table, she feeling for a spoon. "Your initial spices are a touch weak, Seņor Fuerte, but maybe you are just dulling it down for the real deal." Her spoon dipped into the chili without hesitation. The pure intensity of the dish alone had normal people nearly 10 feet way due to it's blazing intensity, the spoon puncturing the surface. One could have sworn there were souls escaping from this dish, but the spoon slowly brought to her lips, and the spoon finds it's way into her mouth.
It isn't the first time that the people of this establishment had the great misfortune of experiencing El Fuerte in person. He has had several exhibition fights here promoting foods and the like, it was good publicity to have El Fuerte sponsoring your food, particularly because he was actually a pretty devastating fighter, though many times one had to really wonder if it was worth all the destruction that followed the Hurricane of the Gulf of Mexico. The patrons of the sports bar are well within their right to whisper amongst themselves and crowd around Fuji. They think that perhaps because it's the first time she's here she doesn't know what she's really getting herself into. Goading El Fuerte to smack her with his most devastating dish is like asking to get shot in the head, is she really as fearless as she appears or perhaps she's just ignorant to what this luchador can cook?
Everyone cringes then when she calmly takes her spoon and smells the dishes prepared to her, at this point many if not all the costumers are covering their noses, their eyes getting watery at the intense spicy scent of the chilli. There's a few that can't take it anymore and make a mad dash out of the building, others not so fortunate start to sweat feeling their eyes rolling right as they lose consciousness, this can't be food what he just cooked! It's like home made pepper spray. "Ah! A kindred soul I see! Yes, you have guessed right on the ingredients I have used, but as I said before, do not let yourself be influenced by my previous dishes. They are for those who cannot truly appreciate greatness!"
He nods at the description of his chilli, the insult going right over his head. "Si! Is it not? It will assault your senses without warning like an mouthy in-law." That's one way to put it. "Everyone brace yourselves!" One of the customers even cries out as they all dive for cover, only El Fuerte stands next to Fuji's table watching her take in that explosive, glowing red dish, as if it was made of pure fire. Some say that if you put your ear close enough to it you can even hear the tortured cries of the dammed as they stir in anguish fueling the hotness of the chilli.
"Well? How is it?"
The woman froze, spoon in her mouth, with a near impatient Luchador hovering over her. People were crying, and running for cover due to this explosive dish of Pure spice. She may have well been eating Gordon Ramsay's spice rack with a hint of vinegar. The fact she nailed his recipe was a testament to the small adult woman's very healthy nose, though her form remained perfectly still. Like she had looked straight into Medusa's eyes and was turned to stone. She stay still, silent, for well over 15 seconds, before she pulled a Vacant spoon from her mouth, and swallowed, after rolling it around in her mouth.
"Hrm. Not bad. The extra pinch of Cayenne would have helped, though." Her head turned towards the Mexican in his apron. Suprisingly, she went back for a second round, almost instantly sweallowing the second batch. "This. Mmm. It's better than your other meals." She mused. She kept eating this chili like it was no big deal, which drew attention again from Customers. "...That woman is insane...!" Said someone. "...She'll be getting her stomach pumped in an hour." mused another. "...Is she human?" came a third response. The woman's eyes turned towards the luchador. This food gave her a bit of a rush. Kind of like when she was fighting.
"However..." She said, holding up a finger. "You are the spiciest chef I have had yet." A few moments later, she had finished this blazingly hot dish. "...I refuse to believe you cannot do better." she admitted. "A chef, like a martial artist, is never perfect. If you are surely to believe you can not do better than this, Seņor Fuerte, then you should give up cooking. Otherwise, do not be afraid to hold back."
It was as if time had frozen when the blazing heat radiating from the hellish liquid was consumed by Fuji. None dared move when she brought such an unholy thing to her mouth, everyone half expecting her to spontaneously combust at that very moment and, by virtue of this dish being a creation from El Fuerte, cause everyone else in the building to be consumed in flames. Hell, why stop there? The whole city will suffer when it hits total meltdown utterly disintegrating half its population in a flash of spicy destruction.
People kneel, cry, pray and watch as Fuji does the unthinkable and eats the Fuerte chili. "Heh! Cayenne? I should have thought of that." Surprisingly, instant death doesn't occur. This cold stoic woman is able to withstand the luchador's latin heat and even have the gal to give out pointers. El Fuerte takes it in stride and nods, removing his chef hat as he yields to the woman with a bow that while she may not see she can probably sense. "This is true." Says he. "And in fact, I am glad this is not the pinnacle of what I can do. Someone once said to me that Perfection is the end of growth. Therefore if this had truly been my perfect dish there would be no need for me to continue." A fist clenches "I was a fool in fact to think that defeating Ryu merit celebration! It only goes to prove how far I am from my goal to becoming he greatest fighter /and/ cook there ever was!" So in a way, he should be thankful to Fuji. "You are very wise seņorita. I must thank you for gracing me with your presence today."
Log created on 20:24:32 12/04/2011 by ElFuerte, and last modified on 21:44:22 12/05/2011.