Description: So far El Fuerte's search for Duke has left him either empty handed or ended in pure disaster. However, the wrestler is nothing if not tenacious (or pig headed) he tracks his steps and starts where everything began, even before Walk-O Taco and Brett. Back with a certain rastaman by the name of; Damnd.
It's mid afternoon in the Metro City Subway. Things in the subway have been cleaned up by Mayor Haggar, no longer ruled by the indigeonous Mad Gear gang, now patrolled regularly by police and the occasional musclebound vigilante. On one of the trained, Damnd and a couple of his thugs sit on a train, across from each other, the rest of the people on the car wisely standing away from them. The trio jostle as the car comes to a halt, the doors opening up. People come and go, although everyone keeps their distance from the Gearheads.
There's always going to be some musclebound self righteous vigilante to rain on the Gear's parade, of that much anyone can be certain. They do however come in all shapes and sizes, many of them big and powerful looking like the famous Major Haggar, others...not so big and powerful looking, such as El Fuerte. What he lacks in intimidation, the wily Mexican makes up with stealth as he trails down the trio of Gearheads lead by the rasta Damnd. Even if he's wearing a mask, the luchador is able to keep his profile down by wearing his usual running sweat girl, a large hoodie covering his head, sweat pants and running shoes. To any one that were to glance his way, he's just some guy coming back from an afternoon jog, but if anyone manages to see his masked face, they would know who he truly is.
So far El Fuerte hasn't done anything to attract attention, he's just making sure to keep a healthy distance away from the thugs as he continues following them, hands tucked on his pockets and face cast down to avoid anyone looking directly at his mask. The luchador is more than likely waiting for the gang members to get to a less public area before doing anything rash so as to avoid causing a scene.
Damnd and his boys, confident in their environment, don't notice El Fuerte. The subway car gets going again, the trio swaying a bit along with everyone else on the train. As Damnd sees a little old lady staring at him, he stands up to his full height, towering over the grandma. "You got a problem, old lady? A black man can't ride the subway? Not in Metro City?" He pokes his finger at her. "/You/ is racist."
Wellp, so much for not causing a scene. El Fuerte was hoping to simply have a civilized talk with Damnd and his crew, but he may have forgotten who is he dealing with exactly. The luchador cannot ignore his heroic instincts and simply wait until Damnd has finished hustling an old lady. It would help his cause sure, just leave it be and just let Damnd be until he's in more of a mood for talking. It would make sense..
And we can't have that! Sense has no place in Lucha Libre! And so El Fuerte makes away with such a silly concept! "Ey!!" Instead, he lowers his hood to reveal his masked face as he calls to the trio of gangsters. "You wanna talk about prejudice!? Why not take it with another minority amigo!?"
Damnd slowly turns around, facing El Fuerte with a raised eyebrow. "Oh man, it's you again!" Damnd puffs his chest up as his boys draw switchblades, the accosted old lady quickly moving away, along with the rest of the car's occupants. "First, you steal my stash, then you beat me in the Demon's Tournament. Why can't you leave me along, /ese/?" Damnd asks, trundling towards El Fuerte, his men blocking the car off from anyone to help the luchadore.
That's right! Like a bad itch that simply just doesn't go away, El Fuerte returns to rain on Damnd's parade! Or as he might be more commonly known in these here parts, Batmanuel! That's how he introduced himself anyway, but some people may still not know his actual stage name. "Ah! So you remember me this time! Good good! Then I won't have to waste time with petty introductions again." The luchador cracks his neck, a silly broad grin still plastered on his masked face. Damnd and his boys looked ready to fight right there in subway cart, and so did the Masked Mexican. However, even fights between a crazed Jamaicans and a mask wearing Hispanics were the norm in Metro City subway, El Fuerte was still not trying to cause a disturbance. With so many innocent people involved someone was bound to get hurt! Also, it's likely that /someone/ was going to flip out their camera phone and upload the whole thing in Youtube giving El Fuerte tons of a bad rep.
If there is a chance to avoid a confrontation, El Fuerte is going to try it. "Look /mon/" The luchador giggles as he uses Damnd's own slang against him. "I'd stop hassling you, but you keep selling drugs to kids and picking fights with old ladies! Nevertheless, I don't want to fight, in fact, I'm happy to see you! How about we cool down for a moment? I just wanna talk."
Damnd puts his hands on his hips, looking stoic as the Masked Mexican speaks. Then, a big grin breaks across his face. "Okay, mon, but my time is valuable." He looks over his shoulder at his men, nodding, and they put their switchblades away. Damnd moves to take a seat on one of the chairs lining the sides of the car. "So, let's talk den. What do you need with de Damnd mon?" he asks, shifting to friendly with that mercurial nature that only a drug addict can muster.
El Fuerte exhales a sigh of relief, trying to hide it as best he can. He's not exactly afraid of Damnd seeing as he has beaten him two times in a row already, but the confrontation always leaves him winded and a lack of energy is not something he can afford in his quest to see that Duke is brought to justice. Though Damnd and his croonies have lowered their weapons and sat down, the possibility of a fight erupting is still likely, he is treading carefully here.
As a sign of good will though, he goes to sit right in front of Damnd casting sideway glances at his boys, ever wary of something they might try to pull "Si si, this I know! I'm sure you have been very busy lately." The luchador adjusts his mask whilst staring at the huge rasta. Never being one that ambles around the bush, the luchador just goes ahead and asks what he wants. "I need to have a chat with your jefe, Duke. I heard that he got bailed outta the slammer, you wouldn't happen to know where he is would you?"
Damnd listens to this, nodding with that partially gold grin. "You want to talk to de Duke? I don't deal with him dat often, but I know his men, and I could arrange a little meeting. But he'd need to know what you want to talk about, mon. If you t'ink my time is valuable, den you got no idea how valuable de Duke's time is. But he may agree to meet with you, mon."
Oh wow, this is going very good. Too good in fact, El Fuerte is downright surprised that Damnd simply nods in agreement and promises he can arrange a little meeting. "I have a slight idea." Responds the ever wary masked wrestler, still skeptical of how easy it was to convince Damnd. The Latino man had expected that he would need to give some kind of tribute in order to arrange an audience, or at the very /least/ kick someone's ass. Still, if Damnd is not asking for anything in return, he's not going to suggest it! "I assure you it's something of the outmost importance, and you'll be in very good light with your boss." Yeah, if Duke somehow rewards his men for leading vigilantes right to him that is.
"Listen, you t'ink it's important, but you're not de Duke," Damnd explains apologetically. "If I get you a meeting, and den you want to talk about something stupid, den /I/ look bad. And maybe yo'll end up dead, or in de hospital. Dealin' with de Duke isn't like dealin' with me - dat motherfucker knows what he be doin'. Me, to de Duke, I be small time. So tell me what you want, or no meeting."
"Awww! You're worried about me getting hurt amigo?? I didn't know you cared!" Laughs the luchador when Damnd's main concern about El Fuerte's meeting with the Duke is him getting injured. Of course, he knows that's not truly what he cares about, the wrestler figures that Damnd is right and he is someone that Duke can very easily do away with it with no problem at all. In fact, this meeting could be as harmful to Damnd as it might be to El Fuerte. If the luchador had the means he would try another route to find Duke, but so far Damnd is his only way of reaching the druglord. "Alright alright, I want to..talk business. He and I didn't see eye to eye before, but things have calmed down since then. I wish to reach some kind of compromise with him..who knows? Maybe you and I can end up being co-workers! Wouldn't that be fun??" Oh yeah, as if having El Fuerte as a teammate wouldn't drive anyone insane.
Damnd bobs his head at the luchadore's reply, still grinning. "Heh-heh, so you cool now, eh? Cool. Okay, I'll talk to de Duke for you." He reaches into his vest, and pulls out a piece of paper and a pen, scrawling down a beeper number and offering it to El Fuerte. "You call dis number tomorrow, and I'll let you know what de Duke says. But remember - dis guy isn't to be fucked wit'. If you t'ink kidnapping Haggar's daughter is bad, you haven't seen what I'd do to you, mon." He stands up, as the car comes to a halt. "Anyt'ing else?"
Yaaaay!! El Fuerte mentally cheers when Damnd agrees wholeheartedly to arrange a meeting. He would jump and down excitedly like a kid would, but he can't afford to appear childish in front of these men. No sir, he's on his Mexican Macho personality right now, the masked wrestler simply makes an arrogant grin when Damnd hands him a telephone number whilst threatening his life. "Tch! Don't worry ese, I can handle myself. By the way, how's your hand?" If Damnd thinks he can intimidate El Fuerte he has another thing coming, as the luchador reminds him just what he's capable of, despite acting half the time like a happy go lucky fool.
But it seems that the wrestler has one more thing to say as Damnd stands up to leave. "Yes actually...err..." He leans in to whisper, looking slightly embarrassed. "Do you have any coca leaves? I can make a presto sauce with them like you wouldn't believe!!" Well...might as well do some shopping while he's here.
What? Coca leaves are totally natural! Don't look at him like that!
Damnd slaps El Fuerte on the shoulder, laughing. "Mon, I get you all de coca leaves you want. Mostly we deal dat stuff as de cake, but I know a guy from Chile dat chews 'em. I'll get you dem tomorrow, if de Duke agrees to see you." And with that, he and his two thugs exit the train, laughing as they stroll out of the subway.
Log created on 15:21:18 07/14/2012 by ElFuerte, and last modified on 17:18:22 07/14/2012.