Dos Equis

Dos Equis' Head

Barb L. Fish: (Smiling) Say, Dos, would you like to go see a musical with me on Broadway, since we're in Chicago and all. Might as well get all cultured and sh!t.

XX: (Confused) A musical?

Barb: Yeah. It sounds right up your alley. It's called "Katz." It was composed by Frank Webber Central and has been running for nine years. It must be good!

XX: (Sighing) Well, it can't be any worse than watching Brock Alyas, Impulse, and Cameron Cruise verbally masturbate themselves for hours on end. But first, I must run an errand. Are there lasers at this musical?

Barb: There might be.

XX: Excellent.

A while later, Dos Equis wore his best (and only) pin-striped suit and matching "dress" luchador mask, while Barb wore her nicest (and only) black dress (with matching mask) and high heels, waiting in line for the doors to open. Dos Equis felt his feet moving, but the world felt strange.

Barb: So, the first act is called "When Katz Is Maddened By Promo Stacking."

Those were the last words Dos heard for what seemed like forever. His "errand" was starting to kick in hardcore. Suddenly, the crowded streets, the car headlights, the well-dressed people, and everything melted into a pool of shimmering water. A large blue eye stared down at him from the Heavens. God? Then came the rain. The rain brought a new reality before Dos Equis. A long hallway illuminated by white sunshine. Four doors on either side, all labeled in an odd manner. On Dos Equis left: "Math Lab" and "Meth Lab"; on Dos Equis right: "Moth Lab" and "Myth Lab" There was another door with another label at the end of the hallway, but Dos couldn't make out the words yet. Never one to go in order, Dos Equis headed for the "Meth Lab" first.

As the door opened, Dos Equis saw two men seated at a glowing and pulsing table on which a dead Television sat. The two men didn't have regular bodies, they were just colored energy blobs, but he knew who they were: High Flyer and Phil Atken. One colored blob was injecting the other colored blob with a needle in a very naughty and painful place.

XX: Doesn't that hurt?

Warbling Voice of High Flyer Hallucination: Looks like I'm not the ONLY High Flyer around here.

XX: So this is why you haven't cut an interview yet?

Warbling Voice of Phil Atken Hallucination: Duh…

XX: Can't say I blame you.

Warbling Voice of High Flyer Hallucination: Isn't there somewhere else you should be?

XX: Can't I just do some ice with you guys?

The Phil Atken Hallucination suddenly appeared behind a hotel-style front desk. Dos Equis handed him a credit card, which the blob of energy took and ran through a strange vertical credit card machine. Dos Equis looked behind himself, as he felt somebody shoving him, but nobody was there. Then everyone was gone, and Dos Equis was back in the hallway, alone. The Meth Lab was gone. Four doors remained.

XX: Trippy.

Dreamily, Dos Equis floated toward the next door, as if he were a screw being drawn to a magnet slowly in space. Dos walked through the door as if it didn't even exist and found himself in a familiar place: A math lab that looked identical to the Malcolm X College math lab he had visited earlier in Chicago. However, Dos Equis was alone. Except for a Television. Slowly, Dos Equis walked forward, then walked sideways to get to the TV set in the middle of a row of folding chairs, and turned it on. At first, there was nothing but mumbling. An indecipherable din. Eventually, Dos Equis saw clearly.

TV Person: Dos, I have a special treat for you. If you can solve this, Dos, you have everything you need in order to win the Sears Tower match. If you can't... then there's nothing I can do for you.

XX: Was that Impulse?

Dos Equis looked to his left to see he wasn't alone anymore. A stunning white redhead wearing a black mini-dress sat next to him, dangling her left leg over her right, using her toes to play with his left shin.

XX: Goddess.

Goddess: You know the answer to this.

XX: Your numbers are lies.

Goddess: Why are they lies?

XX: Because…

Goddess: Who am I? What's my necklace made of?

Dos Equis stared at the redhead. Her necklace looked like an NFW title belt.

XX: (Annoyed) This isn't a House show. This is serious.

Goddess: Is it?

Dos Equis stood bolt upright, as if a higher being had just entered him from under his seat. And for some strange reason, he knew.

XX: Are you an alien?

Goddess: Does it matter? Now…what's the answer?

XX: The right hand side of the equation IS the solution to the indefinite integral presented on the left hand side, thus, the equals sign. Which means, now I can win the match! Jackass.

Goddess: You're welcome. (Singing) Do you play with your cock when you're walking alone? Because Jon can and Jon do Jon would and Jon could. And Jon can and Jon can and Jon do!

XX: Zuh?

Hallway. Dos Equis put his hand in front of his face and waved it back and forth. Rainbows and kittens shot out from his God-like fingers. Trippy. There were three more doors remaining. With a shrug, Dos Equis headed toward the Moth Lab. Inside, he found, naturally, moths flying everywhere. It was like a butterfly conservatory, but instead of butterflies -- moths. The heat was stifling, and made Dos Equis sweaty all over. He walked around a maze-like path, searching for something he KNEW he was looking for but didn't yet know how to find. Eventually, on a rock-wall on a bridge over less-than-troubled waters, Dos Equis found a Television featuring Cameron Cruise.

XX: Worst hallucination ever.

That was when a giant, six-foot tall moth landed next to him and stood on hind legs.

Mothra: Hey, X.

XX: Hey, you.

Mothra: You can call me Mothra.

XX: OK, Mothra.

Mothra: You should listen to him.

XX: But he's so boring.

TV Cameron Cruise: Check this out my little pet Mexican, being that you're the immature young runt that you are...I'm sure you can hold your short attention span for the amount of time I have to be patient and willing to explain this.

XX: Check this out, white devil. I'm not Mexican. I hail from Luchador! And if you try to pet me during the match, I will sue you for sexual harassment. And no, you can't hold my attention span, because…?

Mothra: Focus, young Equis.

TV Cameron Cruise: You're a kid still enrolled in school trying to make friends with idiots that think you're their "homey", while asking a supposed "instructor" how to reach one of the most famous titles on this circuit within the last two years that's only twelve feet high...me, I'm a man that's made quite the name for myself even BEFORE that.

XX: I'm way higher than 12 feet right now.

Mothra: Considering you're TALKING to a giant moth, I'd have to agree with that.

XX: The white devil thinks I'm in high school. Thanks for showing your racism that black people in a COLLEGE have the brains of high-schoolers. And what's Cruise's plan for winning the match? Talking everyone to death? (Sighs) Funny how he can insult my intelligence when he doesn't even realize I was pretending to be a COLLEGE student so that the instructor would help me solve a problem that is the whole KEY to the match.

TV Cameron Cruise: You probably dreamed of being involved in one form or another in a match with Playboy Bunnies. I've LIVED IT.

XX: I must be really high. Did he just say he's really a DIVA? So this dude used to be a woman?

Mothra: If moths could vomit, I so would right now.

XX: It's amazing what you can learn up here.

TV Cameron Cruise: You've probably dreamed of performing in front of Royalty in any form or even playing Las Vegas. I've DONE IT.

XX: I performed in front of Royalty once. And on them, and under them. I once had a three-way with the Duchess of Cornhole and the Countess of Sex. In Vegas. In between playing high-stakes poker. Those were the days…

TV Cameron Cruise: Basically, what it is I'm trying to tell you son, is that while in some cases it might be "cliche", in this case it's TRUE; I've had more shower time than you've had ring time, so if you really think you're gonna get one over on ME you can start using that brain of yours for something more productive.

XX: Well, you probably are older than me, so I would HOPE you've had more showers. Plus, I didn't have indoor plumbing for a bunch of years. Otherwise, I'd be right up there with you on shower time. And it seems, Mr. GLBT Cruise, you've been getting one over on EVERYBODY for a long while.

TV Cameron Cruise: You know...like as a Garbage man for Chicago.

XX: I respect garbage men more than you.

TV Cameron Cruise: It's a match with six guys competing against each other using only tables and chairs to reach the TV title, what exactly is so ****ing difficult??

XX: Do you know how many brain cells I've killed in my life? I've killed more brain cells than you will ever have! Math is hard when you've done the drugs I've done and drank the alcohol I've drank. I don't care what I do to this body. I don't care about the future. All I care about is now and winning at all costs and putting on a show that all the NFW fans will enjoy while they're watching at home in a smoky stupor or in the arena in a drunk stupor.

TV Cameron Cruise: After all...it's not exactly friggin' Rocket Science.

XX: Neither is blabbering on and on about how great you are. You want to be a TV Champion? How about being the least bit entertaining and NOT doing the cliche?

Mothra: Oh, snap!

XX: Am I right, Mothra?

Mothra: His clothes look tasty. (Singing) The naming of Katz is a difficult matter.

Back to the hallway again. Two doors left. Dos Equis still couldn't figure out what the last door was, so he went for the Myth Lab. Another Television. On this one: Brock Alyas. It was a blur of noise before something caught his ear.

XX: Did he just say "illegitamate" immigrants? Talk about your clichés. Another illiterate American. Brock doesn't even know the meaning of the word "drunk." But then again, Brock doesn't know the meaning of a LOT of words. Why don't you do everyone a favor and stay at home watching Lou Dobbs, drink some beer, blame another country for all your problems, and get even fatter and lazier while your country rots beneath your feet.

TV Brock: Speaking of Dos Equis, I called the immigration board and they’re very concerned with the issue at hand.

XX: Myth!

TV Brock: This title match may inevitably become a 5-way dance a little quicker than you’d like.

XX: Myth!

TV Brock: Sorry compadre… I plan to get really ****in’ drunk before this match and walk away with some gold.

XX: You win gold? MYTH!

TV Brock: You’re known to be very sneaky, one of those luchadores.

XX: Well, I am a luchador, but sneaky? Myth!

TV Brock: You’re disposable and I can’t afford to keep you around.

XX: Need beer money?

TV Brock: I’ve got respect for you and your peoples.

XX: This is important, considering what coming up next.

TV Brock: Just bring it back to Mexico where you can continue to stink and not ruin our economy. As a matter of fact, why don’t you call all of your cousins, tell them there’s a burrito fest and a wrestling ring set up back at home… board the ships you came here on and voila our countries entire immigration problem SOLVED!

XX: Open mouth, insert sweaty, veiny penis. Yeah, that's some R-E-S-P-E-C-T! MYTH!

Back to the hallway. One door left. Finally, Dos Equis was able to read two words: "Muth Lab." Intrigued, Dos Equis headed forward.

Invisible Church Choir: A Katz's entitled to expect! These evidences of respect. So this is this and that is that. And there's how you address Katz. A Katz's entitled to expect. These evidences of respect. So this is this and that is that. And there's how you address Katz!

Dos Equis walked through the final door.

Ellen Muth: Hi! I'm TV's Ellen Muth. You may remember me from such television shows as "Dead Like Me." I highly endorse Dos Equis to win the Television Championship. Sincerely, Ellen Muth. TV star.

That was when Dos Equis opened his eyes to find a jam-packed crowd giving a standing ovation as the musical came to a close. Dos Equis shoved himself up and began applauding. What a show, indeed.

NEXT CHAPTER: Two Ways To Win >>

© 2009 John Leary