Mondo and Julio - Luchadors For Great Justice!

[x-mondo.livejournal.com]

Mondo and Julio do a little people-whose-first-named-end-in-O bonding over luchadors. They also discuss Hormel's fine line of products and Mondo manages to scar Julio for life. All in a day's work.




Mondo plonked himself down in front of the TV and DVD player in the shared room of his suite, channel-flicker in one hand and a tub of popcorn in the other. "Oh man." he said, practically vibrating in his excitement. "Ohmanohmanohman." he repeated as he carefully fed the DVD player the DVD he'd found in the school library. "This is going to be too cool!" He got situated in front of the TV and pressed PLAY, and then after the usual warnings were expressed the match footage started rolling. The only problem was that the DVD wasn't subtitled in any way and the announcers were speaking in speed-core Spanish. Mondo didn't mind too much, though. He wanted to see the masked wrestlers!

Julio couldn't help but grin at hearing the announcers speak rapid-fire. It was something of home. Mondo had suggested the marathon, and while both Kyle and Julio had been more than happy to participate, surprisingly so had Marius. He and Kyle were downstairs getting more things from the kitchen. Leaving Julio with the gregarious Samoan.

"I did not know you liked Luchadors so much. If I had know, I would have lent you some of my DVDs." Julio said.

"These guys are AWESOME!" Mondo exclaimed. "I want to learn to do what they do!" he said with a gigantic grin. "I have a couple of cousins who wrestle." he pointed out with pride. "I even think they went to Mexico to show their Samoan spirit!"

"Man, that is awesome," Julio replied. "Do you understand what is going on at all?" He gestured to the television, where the masked wrestlers were making their appearances.

"I can't understand the announcers, but I think the guys with the black masks are Bad Dudes, and the guys in the white masks love Jesus and are the Good Guys." he said. "Did I mention that Peter Maivia is a very distant relative of mine?" he said proudly.

The smaller boy nodded appreciatively. "I like El hijo Del Santo," Julio said. El Hijo was one of the most popular Luchadors in Mexico. "Also? You cannot remove their masks, it is a great source if shame if you do. Unmasking a luchador is like taking away his...pride?"

Mondo nodded. "I knew that." he said cheerfully. "You don't tug on Superman's cape, you don't spit into the wind, and you don't unmask a luchador. It would bring great shame to his name and then all his cousins would have to avenge their loss of honor." he said with a grin that bared teeth.

"That is right." Julio privately wondered where someone so big and slow moving could get so much energy. "You were a wrestler too, no? Sumo?"

"Si!" Mondo said, displaying the extent of his Spanish. "I was going to be the best lightweight sumoka Samoa’s ever seen! At least, until I got hurt, but now I'm here." he said, with just a hint of undercurrent of homesickness.

"How did you get hurt, if you do not mind me asking?" Julio titled his head at the larger boy, idly tossing the remote from hand to hand.

"My qualifying match." he said. "I was going to test out of my student status to take a place in the stable, but in the opening grapple I took a fall wrong and the other guy landed on my knee." he said with a wince of memory. "But it got all put back together!"

Julio hissed in sympathy. "I did something like that, first year of Preparatoria, in futbol practice, my teammate tried to tackle wrong and he almost broke my ankle. I was benched for the rest of the season."

"Futbol." Mondo echoed, rolling the word around. "I play futbol!" he said after a moment's thought. "But I like rugby better. Do you play rugby?" On the TV screen, the guys in white masks were doing incredibly acrobatically improbable things to the guys in black masks.

"No," Julio shook his head. "Marius does though. You could ask him when he comes back. No, I only played futbol. I was a striker," he admitted, a little bit of pride creeping into his voice. "Back home, anyway." Julio shrugged and turned his attention back to the TV, pointing and exclaiming in Spanish as the man with the black mask clotheslined the man in the white one.

Mondo winced in sympathy for the guy in white. "Don't take that from him! GET UP!" he told the TV people, like they'd hear him and obey. "I played goal." Mondo confessed. "It's an okay game. Pretty rough, but okay."

"Yes, hitting each other with no pads. Americans are sissies." Julio grinned, and was distracted by the television, "Aw, hijo de puta, get him get him! Bah!" He made a dismissive motion at the television and shook his head. "Watching this, it's making me a little homesick, no?"

Mondo nodded. "Me too, and I'm not Mexican. We used to watch tapes of All-Japan and the like on the village VCR." he said. "I miss my home."

"I think we all do," Julio said amiably. "Nobody is really from here. Well, except for Laurie and Tommy, and they do not even get to stay at home. But, at least we are not prisoners." Well, some of us..

"Mine's on the other side of the planet." he said, and then shrugged. "But, you know, despite it all I kinda like America. They have beef jerky and SPAM in multiple flavors and Gatorade and pretty girls on the television 24/7 and Shakira!" he said with great relish.

Julio snorted. "Hey now, she is not American, and she sounds much better in Spanish." He nodded, and then paused. "Spam in multiple flavors?" he asked, somewhat incredulous.

Mondo nodded. "You bet! There's garlic SPAM and hickory smoked SPAM and all kinds! And they're ALL DELICIOUS!" he exclaimed, then paused for a moment. "I could really go for some now. You want some?" he asked generously.

"I think I shall pass," Julio said slowly. "Thank you, though." He added politely.

Mondo shrugged. "That's OK." he said. "I can wait until after the match. After all, who can walk away from the awesome retribution of the Guys in White?" he said with a laugh.

"No one," Julio agreed, settling back into the couch. "What are we watching after this? Do you know?"

Manuel shrugged. "What would you like to watch?" he asked politely. "Kyle's got some Ring of Honor DVDs, and there's always the Hulkster..." he said with a slow grin. "Brotherrrrrrrrrr!"

Julio drew back a little. He knew about the boa. While it would be terribly amusing to see Mondo in a feather boa, he wasn't sure if he could take the energetic Samoan. "Why do we not let Kyle decide, when he gets back?"

Mondo shrugged. "Sure. Works for me. I think I'm going to see if there's some cold water left in the fridge. Would you like some?" he asked politely.

"No, thank you," Julio held up his bottle of Dr. Pepper. "My addiction, you know?"

Mondo made a face. He didn't care for the stuff personally, but he knew Julio did. Maybe next time he went out he'd buy Julio some. That'd be a good thing to do. "Okay!" he said, then heaved his bulk off the couch to go walk over to the fridge. "Wait." he said, pausing for a moment. "Shakira's not an American?"

Julio laughed. "No, she is Columbian, and also Lebanese, I think." he took a swig of Dr. pepper and continued, "But whatever she is, she is hot." he nodded to himself.

"Awoo." Mondo wolf-whistled very badly as he opened up the fridge. "Drat. No cold water. That's OK, though." he said, letting the fridge close again.

"I am sure the others will bring something back." Julio replied. "Sit, you are eclipsing the television."

Mondo scarred Julio for life by wiggling his oversized posterior in a trauma-inducing imitation of Shakira before planting said bottom into the couch to finish watching the tape.

Julio put a hand to his face and cried out in horror. "Man, what can I do to ensure that you never do that again?" His retinas, oh god his retinas.

"Do what?" Mondo asked innocently with a grin.