Cuatro Equis

Out Of Control

FADE IN on metal teeth. CUE UP background industrial death metal music in the form of Fear Factory, circa "Demanufacture." Slowly, the camera pans back, revealing a matching metallic face that is eerily similar to the face of a T600 Terminator, complete with red eyes. More of the hotel room becomes visible. It's mostly dark, aside from the flickering of images on a computer monitor. DOS EQUIS, drinking a Dos Equis beer, is seated beside FUTUREQUIS, the man inside the Terminator mask. They were seated on a couch, staring at a laptop.

XX: Coral Avalon vs. Brian James. Kurt Angel vs. Trey Vincent. Sabotage vs. Lactose the Intolerant. Clayton Prodigy vs. Bradley Duncan. Arcade and Son vs. Cristo Santos and Wombat Guerrera vs. the International Workrate Connection. Max Danger vs. HardCase. Jeff Garvin vs. Conrad Ramsey.

FUTUREQUIS: The tag match. You've got to study. This is the big time now, Dos. Crash TV. If you ever want to get a whiff of the Tag Team Championship, you better step your…OUR…game up. You could probably learn a few things from the IWC.

XX: We have to carry a stick to a good match. And his bat, too!

FUTUREQUIS: Aren't you clever.

XX: I am just glad we can tell each other apart now. It was terribly confusing having an exact replica of me. I could not tell if I was looking in a mirror half the time. Though your mask is scary.

FUTUREQUIS: Not as scary as who's underneath it.

XX: You are saying you are really ugly?

FUTUREQUIS: Huh? No.

XX: Futureme, our reputation is expanding faster than the universe. We once had an awkward moment, just to see how it feels. We live vicariously through ourself. We are…the most interesting man in the world. Because there's DOS of us. I always drink beer. And when I do, I prefer Dos Equis!

FUTUREQUIS: Are you parodying something?

DOS EQUIS shrugs

FUTUREQUIS: Well, stop it. This isn't a comedy tag team. And it doesn't get much more serious than facing that out of control lunatic High Flyer. So, Flyer, you're now obsessed with illumination, are you? I should've known. He's Illuminati, Dos.

XX: He is?

FUTUREQUIS: Yes. They talk in code and riddles. And they're all nuts. I just had no idea the Illuminati had infiltrated wrestling. Never underestimate them. But Flyer, trust me when I tell you that unmasking me would be the second biggest mistake of your life. The first, of course, will be when you step foot in the ring with me. Like any good servant of chaos, Flyer uses fear as his weapon.

XX: I thought his weapon was a bat?

FUTUREQUIS: That's one tool in his arsenal, yes, but his weapon is fear. And I don't fear anything. (He sighs) I come from 2019. You think things in the world are bad now? I came back to change things. And already, fate is on my side. Flyer's quest of illumination ends here. I chose this new mask for a reason, Flyer. Because I can't be bargained with. I can't be reasoned with. I don't feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And I will absolutely not stop until you are defeated. Say goodbye to your new world order, Flyer.

FUTUREQUIS: If some way you are able to remove this mask, Flyer, you might as well open Pandora's Box upon New Frontier Wrestling. For unmasking me would bring anarchy, pain, destruction, and suffering to every man and woman on the roster, from Joe the Plumber, to Rook Black, to Impulse, to Vic Tarano. Everybody. And trust me, NFW is not ready for the chaos that would unfold.

FUTUREQUIS: Perhaps the problem lies with you. Do you have a problem? Are you wearing a mask? I'm not talking about a stupid luchador mask.

XX: Stupid?

FUTUREQUIS: Are you one step away from going into recovery? What's your addiction? Nicotine? Alcohol?

XX: Guilty!

FUTUREQUIS: Or, perhaps, emphasis on the "high" in High Flyer. Perhaps you're just ashamed of the life you lead. You aren't really mad at the world, at the people wearing masks. You're really mad at yourself, at what you've become. Is it anger? Are you hurt? What scarred you? Confession is good for the soul, Flyer. When you're ready, I'll be there to cleanse you of your sins. Until you hit bottom, right around the same time you're on the receiving end of a Cuatro Equis two-on-one assault, I'm sure you'll continue to try to take the masks of others because you aren't ready to remove your own. To become human. Dos, tell him why we wear masks.

XX: Well, interestingly, it all started back with the Aztecs–

FUTUREQUIS: Quicker.

XX: Because we are luchadores?

FUTUREQUIS: Right! We aren't some random white guy pretending to be a luchador.

DOS EQUIS coughs. FUTUREQUIS glares at him. Thumb to the left eye!

XX: Owwww!

FUTUREQUIS: You earned it. Just watch the match, Dos. Study. Don't underestimate Flyer. I'm not. Where was I? Right. I don't want to be human. Humans are flawed animals. But why am I telling you something you already know painfully well?

XX: And BatPulse! Your ass is mine! The Drunken Era is envelope you!

FADEOUT as FUTUREQUIS drags up DOS EQUIS by his eyeholes and rams him face first into the wall. But DOS fights back! The fists are flying as four red letters (or, technically one letter repeated four times):

XXXX

FADETOBLACK

NEXT CHAPTER: Nostalgia >>