Thirst. (Open to All)

[saint]

San Pedro was thirsty. He didn't want anything flashy, nothing with an umbrella, an olive or a worm in the bottom of the bottle, he'd had enough of that already. All he wanted was a tall glass of water, something to quench his thirst. As he walks down a sidewalk, he draws glares from people all around him, in Mexico he would've been heralded as a God, but here, well, here he was just another freak in a mask.

Then, out of the corner of his eye...

Heaven's Door
Bar and Restaurant

(Come and give us a Knock)

The Rock n' Roll reference would go straight over San Pedro's head as he walked into the restaurant. The door would close behind him, as he was greeted by a smile and a beckoning voice of a young waitress:

Waitress: Table for one... sir?

The waitress was slightly, well, majorly, disturbed by the sight of the man wearing a mask, standing before her, but, the allure of a tip kept the smile plastered upon her face. San Pedro looks down at her, and smiles back:

Pedro: I'd love to, but, I'm only here for a glass of water.

Ring-a-ring. The sound of the bell rings out as the door is opened, San Pedro turns around and is greeted by another man...

[Fernando Castro]

"Dude! Freakin' sweet mask... I almost had me one o' them at my last Fed... damn ex wouldn't lemme buy it..."

Fernando Castro, fresh from his bar fight a few days ago past, bruises still in tact happened to be in a bar. Again. Maybe he'd be a bit smarter this time... But, hell, he's Mexican. Gotta check out the sweet Luchadore masks that were a no-no to him previously... maybe... just maybe he'd have one this year... ;D

"Couldn't take my goggles from me though... stupid bitch. Name's Fernando Castro. Sup with you?"

[saint]

San Pedro looks back from the waitress, into the eyes of Fernando Castro. The stubble, the sunglasses, the sleezy grin upon his face and the smell, oh God, the smell, it was nauseating. San Pedro was immediately filled with an immense feeling of disgust, this man standing before him was a living, breathing representation of the negative vibes and stereotypes that haunted him since his move to America.

Pedro: How? How can you act like this? How can you allow the world to see you in this way? You're acting like a joke! It's people like you that've made our race this... this... JOKE!

[Fernando Castro]

Fernando's eyebrows raise...

" 'Scuze you?"

What the fuck did this guy say? Swear to God... ya half thought he WANTED someone to come up and rip on his mask, like he was expectin' it, like that Emo kid that only sits over in the corner, hiding from everybody, sheepin' out at girls, all pale and stuff... then when someone says ONE thing, it's the only time he cracks a smile cuz he figures he was right, the world hated him, and it's time to visit a gun dealer. What the fuck...

[fenix]

~ As the two me are talking somewhat heatedly. The bell on the door rings again. This time a flashy looking man in a light grey designer suit with a red flared out collier under it. He was also wear a dark shades and a matching light grey hat. Behind him stand a rather tall men also dressed in a black designer suit with the jacket open. He wore a red shirt under it open halfway untucked, and dawn black rim shades with red lens. ~

~ They walk over to a table next too where the other two men are. As they take their seats. The flashy dress man waves over a waitress. As the waitress walks over to them. The taller silent man watches the argument of the two men next to them. ~

Waitress: Hello and what can I get for you two today?

~ She looks over at the two men at the next table. Then back at the two at the table she was at. ~

Waitress: I'm sorry for the disturbances. Now what can I get you two to drink?

It's so kay. I'm use to this type thing. Where I come from they would be fighting rah now. But fo'get about them, and let me tell joo what we want. Now I will get a shot of tequila and jour fines rum. An for my friend he will have a glass of jour most expensive red wine. Okay. As for the food I will get the lobster and shrimp with the spanish rice. An he will have jour biggest steak with shrimp and red potatoes.

Waitress: Alright I will have that right out for you. Say your friends pretty quite huh.

Ah, joo see he doesn't speak that good a English. Say we are not from this country. We come here cuz he has been given a opportunity to compete in jour fine county.

Waitress: Really. Where are you guys from? And what is it that he does?

Ah joo see he is Señor Antonio Fenix, and I am his manager slash translator Señor Miguel Omar Ortega. An we are from Puerto Rico. See I have learn the English language. Now I am not fluent in it, but I speak it very well. As for my friend here...he can understand it, but see he can not speak it to well know. Now we are here for him to wrestle in one of jour promotion here in Chicago. A uh Global Championship Wrestling.

Waitress: I got you, and I would like to say welcome to the United States. I hope you have a great experience here in our fine country. So I will be right back with your drinks.

Thank joo.

~ Fenix continues to watch the men at the next table. Shaking his head at them. Then turns his attention back to his manger Señor Ortega, and they conversate as the wait for their drinks. ~