Post by Breezy on Jul 11, 2020 17:20:25 GMT -5
FEEL NO LOCOS
Ojo Loco, the most Loco of Locos, can be seen backstage at the 2020 iteration of the LuchaBowl tournament. His colourful gear and mundane glasses combine to form an odd scene.
Ojo Loco may look pretty insane and luchador-y but his face screams naught but confusion.
And the answer to why Ojo Loco was so Ojo Confused-O was simple.
He had walked out expecting the regular events to occur. This wasn't the first time he'd enter a wrestling ring, wasn't even the first time he was pretending to be a luchador!
But something was different...
It was the people. The fans.
He still remembered the words he had heard before moving backstage. After he'd won his matches.
"That wasn't a terrible match, Ojo Loco,"
"Good job, Ojo Loco,"
"You getting kicked in the testicles was not something that made us all laugh and doubt your masculinity, leading you down a mental breakdown eventually resulting in your arrest, Ojo Loco,"
"Wanna hear my Credit card number and the experiation date and year, Ojo Loco?"
Okay that last two didn't happen, but the first two? Totally!!
Ojo Loco didn't even have his hand around their throats as usual! I mean, what gives?
Were insane people really that popular? Ojo Loco would've gone batshit years ago if he known that was the case!
Except.. he did. And he wasn't popular.
And yet.. now the people cheered him.
Now Ojo Loco didn't care about the fans thought about him. Insane people didn't care about anything! Only being insane and arson and stuff.
But the man behind that mask? The man behind the really nerdy glasses that are over the mask?
Seemed like he cared quite a bit.
Ojo Loco's head rises quickly, his cameraman walks into the room. The camera is picked up. The shot is manoeuvred slightly.
"What's with that look? It's not surprising that someone would challenge you to a match. You're kind of arrogant man, I don't blame Soul Reaver,"
"Wha-? I'm confused!!
People where all cheery, all chanting my name and stuff! Coyote Muerto wasn't actually a Coyote! Now you're talking about Soul Reaver, who has nothing to do with any of this!!"
"You're asking what Soul Reaver has to with a 7 foot luchador named Reaver de Souls?"
"Yeah! I am!!"
"Right. It-"
"And don't go on your whole-!! Answering questions thing!! Answers just invite more questions! Make me more confused!!
I'm not supposed to be confused! I'm supposed to insane!!
Locos Luchador. A completely mad lad!
Laughing all creepy and wearing those white asylum sweaters and having dyed hair!
Not-.. Thinking-! About... ab-.. about, you know, things!!
I do not think!"
The cameraman just let's out a sigh and Ojo Loco gets up, scratching at the back of his head.
"I'm up against Hurrican mas Sexy!! A fricking-.. I dunno, sex-haver person!! Thinking he's "new school" and breaking "old school" and all that!!
You think I went to school?!
I didn't! I went to Insane School! To an insane asylum!! And in the asylum? There were no parties!
I'm being serious, I was actually in an asylum!! When I first got arrest- I mean, Ojo Loco! I'm Ojo Loco!
And Ojos Locos shall win!! Because insane people are automatically more sexy than regular people. Obviously!! It's displayed in Popular Media, so it has to be true!
I'm fucking Jared Leto Joker up in this biyatch-o! Haaaa! Haaa- ha- I can't do the laugh.
B- but!! I can do a shooting star press better than he can!"
"You're like 579 pounds, man,"
"S- so?! I just need to-.. Jump higher!!"
"That's complete- stop scratching!"
Ojo Loco growls, and his hands shoot to his sides. Both hands are covered by large gloves up, each with cropped pictures of skeletons saying badass quotes that Ojo Loco got from the internet. Plus a little bit of an ad for some mobile game since Ojo Loco's too insane to be good at photoshop.
"What are you doing? Getting all pissy. So people like you now, big deal, don't get annoyed about it. Have you talked to Trav-?"
"SHUT UP!!!"
Ojo Loco seems to try and add on more shouts but stops himself.
Ojo Loco was insane. He was, he had to be. And yet.. for some reason, people where cheering him. People were being.. weird!!
But why would people cheer for an insane person? Didn't they know that, since Ojo Loco had dramatic, flamed, bright yellow ring gear that made him look like a human doritos packet, Ojo Loco was definetly a dangerous person?! Was he not acting insane enough?
Ojo Loco let out a gasp. He knows exactly how to prove his insanity to people. He's gonna do the one thing that will get everyone scared. The one thing that no sane human would ever do.
Ojo Loco rises up. He smirks, locos-sly.
"I'm gonna go see a therapist,"
--
VENT NO LOCOS
--
Ojo Loco's thought process was actually very unorthodox. Going to a therapist specifically to process you're insane is a really weird action to partake in.
In Ojo Loco's mind, he was on top of the world, winner of the lucha bowl, with Hurrican mas Sexy and all the other competitors beneath his feet and the words "INSANE!!" plastered over his head in cool, bold font.
If Ojo Loco had any sense there'd be an "ly" following that insane. And than an "st" and then a "upid" but anyways, Ojo Loco had returned to his therapist.
His cameraman in tow, filming his insane head and Ojo Loco's massive body barely fat onto the sofa.
"See, if Hurican mas Sexy tried to go to therapy, they'd be all like "noooo, you're too sane, too reasonable," me? I get the red carpet, man!
I get VIP access, I get free water! Steward Freud gives me a high five whenever I walk in and he's all like "what's good, homie?" Because as the most insane people alive, we're tight like that,"
"You mean Sigmund," The cameraman grumbles.
"You're right! They even ask for my signature, my autograph!
The only people who ask for you autograph, Hurican, are worthless party people that are sexually attracted to hangovers!!
I'm just too insane for you!! I have my insane punch!
What are you gonna do when I insane punch you? Dodge it?
It's too insane for you to dodge it, dipshit!!"
Ojo Loco lets out a loud laugh, starts hitting in the couch in an insane way. Eventually his head darts to the left and the camera quickly maneuvers itself into a position where both Ojo and The Therapist can be seen.
"Well, Dr Hob! Any word on my mental state? My sanity? Tell me aaaaaalll about it.
And make sure to use mean words that I can reuse to insult Hurican."
The therapist coughs slightly.
"Uh.. yeah. Well, I looked over the results. Compared that to previous sessions and...
You've made quite a lot of progress Mr Cunningham. It's nice to see you've calmed down, at least a little,"
"Hahahahah!!
See, Hurican mas Hurricane? My insanity knows no bounds!! Come Lucha-..... -a-...
...
...
What?"
"Oh, I said you've come a long way. Your mental state has improved dramatically since a year ago. Good job, haha!"
Ojo Loco's face goes blank. He just stares at The Therapist with his wide eyes, still covered by the unattractive glasses.
"Liar,"
"No! Ha- seriously.
I mean, compared to the years gone, you've made leaps and bounds. You should be proud of yourself.
You're hardly even insane at all!"
Ojo Loco continues to stare at The Therapist.
His hands slowly go to his head, he scratches rapidly as he starts to breathe quickly.
"No... n- no! This can't be happening! This can't be happening to me!!
LIAR!! YOU FUCKING LIAR!!"
Ojo Loco stands up quickly and violently throws the couch across the room. Shouts are heard all around and by the time the camera is steadied Ojo Loco is pacing around the room, destroying things.
"NO!! NONONONO!!! THIS CAN'T BE-!! NOOOO!!
I'M OJOS LOCOS!!! INSANE!! EVERYONE'S FUCKING AFRAID OF ME!! AND MY INSANITY!!
I-!!
YOU!!!"
Ojo Loco points, eyes filled with a vengeful rage. The camera quickly shifts onto the terrified doctor and within a second Ojo Loco's poorly edited gloves are around his throat.
Ojo Loco is breathing heavily. Eyes open in pure animalistic anger. He's foaming at the mouth, his nerves tense, veins pop put of his forehead and he says:
"Please,"
Dr Hob's eyes bulge in confusion as Ojo loco sinks to his knees.
"P- please! You have to call me insane!! I promised I would be insane! I said I'd be tough, and insane!! I'll do him proud!!
I'll do insane things!!
I'll bite off more of my fingers!! I'll start scratching walls and head butting things I-!
I-!"
Ojo Loco's strangely watery eyes look up at the doctor. Like a baby cow.
"I'll start listening to Nickleback!!
PLEASE!!
PLEASE JUST CALL ME INSANE!!
I'M LOOOOOCOOOOOOOS!!"
The doctor quickly breaks free and rushes out the door muttering a "fricking Cunninghams". The camera stays on Ojo Loco for the next minute or so. The large, Locos luchador eventually rises to his feet.
He turns to the camera.
"I'm gonna-.. ingest .. as many illegal chemical as I can. And then I'm gonna watch so much bullcrap!! And we'll show that fucker who's fucking HEALTHY!!"
Ojo Loco marches out the door. The Cameraman makes an aggravated noise and follows.
"There's nothing wrong with being sane!!"
"Yes there is!! I need to be insane again!! I need to win the Luchabowl!! THAT'S HOW THIS FUCKING THING WORKS!!"
"Just let it go! Why are you reacting so strongly to this?! Can't you just be likeable for two fucking seconds?!"
"GGGGRRRRRRRR-! SUPRISE OCTOPUS!!"
Ojo Loco grabs an aquarium pt of nowhere containing an octopus. He uses it as a barricade and marches out of the therapist's house.
A couple seconds pass. A sigh can be heard.
"Ojo doesn't mean Octopus, man!"
A distant shout is heard.
"BUT I ALREADY BOUGHT THE FUCKING OCTO- AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!"
--
NO LOCOS
Completely alone, Ojo Loco can be seen in a ruined apartment, surrounded by opened alcohol.
Despite this, most of the bottles have simply been poured into the floor. Ojo Loco seems very sober. Very nervous as well.
He's waiting for something.
"Just one.. just one hallucination. To prove my insanity!"
Ojo Loco mutters. He takes a deep breath and pulls out a yellow mask. A familiar yellow mask. From the days of old.
He throws it across the room and struggles to make the faint fogginess of his mind take over.
Ojo Loco is nothing if not determined. Eventually it works.
He opens his eyes and finds a figure, with his back to him. A large luchador. Just like Ojo Loco.
"Hello?"
"Yeah. It's me. El Gran Grande Devorador De Planetas Gigantesco Behemothò. Devorador is Spanish for "big muscles","
"I know who you are! You're.. ugh. I need your help,"
"Of course you do. Your voice. It's like a fucking centipede voice, Fuck-o!"
"Shut up! I-!
I'm in a Lucha Tournament. I-..
How do I become truly insane? Like you?"
The figure laughs. The voice, the gear, it's all so familiar. Loco knows this person.
It's like looking into a mirror.
"It's not easy. You have to be the coolest Behemoth on earth. Ha...
You don't sound the part,"
"I do! I can beat Hurican!! He's weak, and small!!
But these feelings! It-.. it's too fucking-.. different!
...
Did you ever... calm down?
Did you ever not wanna be so.. angry?"
Ojo Loco gets closer. He barely remembers El Gran Grande but it's all becoming clearer now.
"No." The firm, childish voice says.
"I was taught at a young age. 'Every human has a little bit of-'"
"'Midgetness inside him'"
"... yeah. Midgetness. Some men are consumed by their weakness. Their normalness.
It can be avoided though. I can teach you,"
El Gran Grande turns around. Looks Ojo in the Ojos.
"You just have to-
What the fuck is on your face?"
"My glasses?"
"Th-
That's the stupides-
That is the stupidest fucking thing I've ever fucking seen with my-
Alright, I'm out,"
"Wha-?! No you're not! You're MY hallucination! You're my past self, you dick!"
"Oh yeah? Oh yeah, you grasshopper? Watch,"
Before Loco can say anything the fogginess goes. The hallucination has disappeared.
He shouts loudly. Slams the floor he's next to in pain. Almost crying.
Ojo Loco's never felt so sane.
He has no other option left. Even the insane part of his brain has let him.
He knows what he must do.
Knows what he has to do in order to be insane enough to destroy the pathetically nimble Hurican mas Sexy and go to the finals. Something he'd never wish upon his worst Loco Lucha enemy.
He pulls out his phone.
"Hey Siri,"
The phone bleeps.
"Play Nickleback's Greatest Hits,"
[/quote]
