Post by Malo on Feb 17, 2017 20:01:02 GMT
“Sir,” the man smiled, though his tone was cool, “I don’t think you understand what it is that we do,” he pauses to look the ginger luchador up and down, “here.”
For a heartbeat, Malo considers his words. Then, he triumphantly thrusts an index finger into the air and announces to all those present, “You is making the finest suits in town,” to which he adds, “which is why Malo has come here today – I is in need of the new suit” he indicated, his finger now pointing at the, less than enthusiastic, employee.
“So, amigo,” he continues, not picking up on the social queues, “let us talk about what I is looking for.”
Malo begins to stride around the store, fingers touching the various suit coats and pants on display as he passes.
“I is looking for something black, with …” he looks around at the employee who hasn’t budged from his spot, “you can make the patterns, ¿si?”
The man takes a deep breath, sighing and waving his arm towards the rack on Malo’s left, “We have various styles of pinstripe depending on your,” he begins, Malo turning to thumb through some of the garments, “Can you make the lightning bolts?” he asks, back turned.
“I … uh …” the man stammers, taken aback, “lightning bolts?”
“Si, I is looking for lightning bolts on the sides y gold to match with this,” he says, raising a hand and tracing a finger along the white section of his mask outlining his eyes.
“We’ve,” the man continues, his left eye twitching slightly, “we’ve never made anything with lightning bol … did you say in gold?”
“Well,” Malo says, matter of factly, “I is having to match mi partner Zasshu.”
“What’s a Zasshu? Is that, like, Harambe’s cell-mate?” he says with a self-righteous chuckle
Malo pauses, fingers suddenly clenched around a pair of trousers, “What is you saying?”
The man doesn’t respond, just chuckles to himself once more.
“Do NOT,” he shouts, turning to face the man, “insult the names of mi amigo, Zasshu in front of Malo …”
By this point he has crossed the short distance between them and has his finger burried in the chest of the smug looking man.
“Malo, he will find a different Men’s Warehouse to make him the new mask and tights … and Malo will look good, he is guaranteeing it!”
With that, Malo turns and stomps away towards the store entrance. The employee shouts after him, “When you find a new store, don’t forget to wear a shirt to it!”
Halfway through the door, Malo looks down at his bare chest and grumbles under his breath as the door closes behind him.
For a heartbeat, Malo considers his words. Then, he triumphantly thrusts an index finger into the air and announces to all those present, “You is making the finest suits in town,” to which he adds, “which is why Malo has come here today – I is in need of the new suit” he indicated, his finger now pointing at the, less than enthusiastic, employee.
“So, amigo,” he continues, not picking up on the social queues, “let us talk about what I is looking for.”
Malo begins to stride around the store, fingers touching the various suit coats and pants on display as he passes.
“I is looking for something black, with …” he looks around at the employee who hasn’t budged from his spot, “you can make the patterns, ¿si?”
The man takes a deep breath, sighing and waving his arm towards the rack on Malo’s left, “We have various styles of pinstripe depending on your,” he begins, Malo turning to thumb through some of the garments, “Can you make the lightning bolts?” he asks, back turned.
“I … uh …” the man stammers, taken aback, “lightning bolts?”
“Si, I is looking for lightning bolts on the sides y gold to match with this,” he says, raising a hand and tracing a finger along the white section of his mask outlining his eyes.
“We’ve,” the man continues, his left eye twitching slightly, “we’ve never made anything with lightning bol … did you say in gold?”
“Well,” Malo says, matter of factly, “I is having to match mi partner Zasshu.”
“What’s a Zasshu? Is that, like, Harambe’s cell-mate?” he says with a self-righteous chuckle
Malo pauses, fingers suddenly clenched around a pair of trousers, “What is you saying?”
The man doesn’t respond, just chuckles to himself once more.
“Do NOT,” he shouts, turning to face the man, “insult the names of mi amigo, Zasshu in front of Malo …”
By this point he has crossed the short distance between them and has his finger burried in the chest of the smug looking man.
“Malo, he will find a different Men’s Warehouse to make him the new mask and tights … and Malo will look good, he is guaranteeing it!”
With that, Malo turns and stomps away towards the store entrance. The employee shouts after him, “When you find a new store, don’t forget to wear a shirt to it!”
Halfway through the door, Malo looks down at his bare chest and grumbles under his breath as the door closes behind him.
----------------{ OLÉ }----------------
Juan,
John
Juan, I is very glad that you is here with Malo today. You see, he smiles, waving his hand towards the camera, beckoning John to follow him, today is the very special day, amigo. We is only a few short days away from the most anticipated matches in all of the Imperials; your hero y mine, Zasshu is teaming up with El Grandé Malo to take on … he pauses, eyebrows furrowing as he thinks for a moment, Malo, he is still not clear on who we is facing this weekend, amigo, but rest assured that they is in for the worlds of hurting!
The room falls silent; Malo just smiling into the camera and John dying a little on the inside. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of ‘dead air’, John speaks up –
Uh, listen, man I really don’t care either way here, but you do realize that your match this week is with Zasshu, right?
Malo continues to smile unblinkingly as he softly nods his head. Amigo, he laughs, did you not hear Malo when he is saying that he and Zasshu will be mopping the floors with the dos unknown opponents we is facing?
John sighs, No, I mean you’re facing Zasshu …
Si, Si; unless Malo is tagging in with the blind tags I will be facing Zasshu many times in the match. I is feeling like you is not understanding much of the ways that this works, Juan.
John
But, mi amigo, this only means that Malo is going to be able to teach you all of the things! I is going to mold you into the perfectó camera helper!
I need the money, I need the money, I need the money, John begins to repeat to himself under his breath.
Que? Malo asks, head cocked to the side.
Nothing, don’t worry about it – just … just keep going.
With a wink and a nod, Malo points his finger back towards John, See, Juan,
John
I is knowing when I met you that you is the constipated professional.
I really hope you meant consummate …
Si, Malo smiles, this is what I is saying. Now, he waves his hand dismissively, back to the tasks that are at our hands; this match!
Señoritta Laura, she is not having much of the confidence in Malo. She is thinking that Malo, he is not like her clients that she is collecting for her house. I is thinking that Señoritta forgets that just because Malo, he is not having the mean face or angry words, that he is weak, that he is the push-over.
Malo will show her, this weekend, that the only peoples being pushed over, are the poor chicos that she found to face us!
Malo rushes towards the camera, John recoiling slightly but recovering in time for Malo to reach out and grab the sides of the camera, pulling it close to his masked face.
Olé he whispers into the camera, his breath fogging up the lens before pulling away, as John ends the recording.
----------------{ OLÉ }----------------
Well howdy there pardner.