All Over The Map (Montoya Promo #2)

Still doesn’t get it, he thought to himself. Time had passed since Colt Montoya had won the European Championship. His first test was against her. Sure, the distraction added to another distraction is what finished the contest. A quick roll up and suddenly Cynthia Rose encountered the loss. Losses happen, nobody could deny that. Montoya experienced a few himself throughout his career. Were they always justified? Nope. Did he learn something from each loss? Not always. A loss could be a positive experience though with the right frame of mind. That was something Cynthia never quite caught onto.

Despite all that, the matches with Cynthia had always been a learning experience in its own. That dreaded non-title match right after he landed his first taste of gold in Wrestleworld, he saw potential in the young lady. Sure, she didn’t see it in herself, but it was there. World Domination victory had caught his attention following his successful title defense. He knew she would be gunning for him. Everyone wanted that second chance, redemption was one hell of a prospect. The world took it as an upset, and Montoya, in a rare occasion, actually agreed with the masses. He had been wrong. This was why the Last Breathing Outlaw never invested in the stock market. She still needed to learn some cold hard facts though. Something she believed for months, it just wasn’t true.

:: House of Paine Academy - Beginners::
::Reseda, CA::

Yes, we came back here again. Unlike previous trips, this was to the beginners class. The students had nearly survived their first month inside of the ring, their eyes were hardened with battle experience. Arcadia was a talking point that week. Alumni, recent students, even the owner were involved with the event. Training had been tough, but now it was reaching a fever pitch.

For so many, it was about their future, and Montoya knew that. He embraced their future, seeing it as a reality for some, pipe dream for others. Standing on the other side of the glass door that separated him from entering Bison’s Den.

“Cynthia, oh Cynthia. You know, I really expected you to throw in some cute insults and show off your one liners. We didn’t quite get that luxury, did we? Instead, it was more of the same. You still think this is some kind of chance to expose me as this horrible person. Still clinging onto that thought, I see. No worries, I don’t think either one of us really understands each other the way we should. Maybe..Just maybe I should give you a proper introduction as to who I am, and then you can tell me who you are. Let’s try this. I like the potential here.”

The door slowly opened up as the European Champion made his way into the dojo. Dojo was such a weird way to describe it, it was an Academy, get it right. No worries there, as Colt had said previously. It didn’t really matter, tomato..tomato. Sound it out.

“Hi Cynthia! My name is Colt Montoya.”

Flashing a confident smile at the camera, he glanced past it at the people inside of the ring. Morning class, they call it. Normally, it would kick off with heavy stretching and cardio for the first hour of training, followed by in-ring work. They must have started early.

“I’m a simple man, really. Born and raised in Sweetwater, I moved to Longview just before I turned ten. I have a sister who I swear is adopted, most likely the biological daughter of Claudia Michaels. I’ve been wrestling a few years now, used to play baseball. You probably knew that already. Did you also know that I’m allergic to styrofoam somehow? This is why I use a flask instead of some cheap cooler. I have a low tolerance of lactose, yet it wasn’t me who sharted in my debut match here in Wrestleworld. Akuma won’t admit it, but he totally did it.”

Shaking the hands of the students who weren’t in the ring, Montoya appeared to be home. He was in full relaxation while getting himself ready to walk into the locker room.

“Cynthia, come on. You know better. You’re not allowed in there! I’ll be back in a flash.”

Cue the jump cut! Colt Montoya walked back out of the locker room, wearing a pair of dark purple basketball shorts, black knee pads and purple & white Nike sneakers.

“That was fast, right? I dig the color purple for some reason. It’s strange, considering the skies over Nevada were really beautiful when I last saw them. I was caught in a blinding white light, waking up in the deserts under the moon. It was then that I found the secret to success in the European Division. Ever since that fateful night and the subsequent days, I learned something that I am willing today to pass onto you. It’s not condescending if I use this voice, I’ve heard. But first.. A quiz!! Hit it Johnny! Or Chuck.. Nah, Chuck, we need you for this one.”

‘Feels So Good’ by Chuck Mangione began to play over the speakers. Two of the students stopped in the middle of the ring while Colt Montoya walked back into the shot with a sparkled powder blue suit jacket with a fake microphone in his hand. He had the super fake professional grin on his face, waving gently to the audience that consisted of students on the outside of the ring.

“Welcome everybody to our favorite game… Guess the gimmick! I’m so honored to be here, my name is Colt Montoya..the perfect name for a cheesy game show host..Oh damn, it actually is! Nevertheless, I am joined by my two contestants!! To my right.. Hold on, I need my card.. Oh wait, this isn’t Wrestleworld, I actually know people’s names! You are Pio!!! Pio, what a name! What’s your occupation? How much do you weigh? Were you a boxer? Did your mother forget to write the Scor in Scorpio on your birth certificate?”

Pio, God bless him, had no idea what was going on. Regardless, he showed such enthusiasm as he looked at the gracious European host. Evidently, Colt was the European in this ring, not the Italian born Pio.

“That’s right, Colt Montoya! I’m PIO!!! Do you know why they call me Pio??”

“Because it’s your name?”

“CORRECT!!”

Pio got slapped. Montoya did not look impressed with the question.

“This is my show, you little bitch. Don’t steal my spotlight! Because we all know what happens when someone steals MY spotlight.. I haul off and hit an old man!! Now.. Pio, you’ve been training for about a month now. I like your style. Look at your hair! That’s cute, I like that. Now, you do have some major competition standing next to you. Tell us about yourself, Chante Hebert!”

“I’m Chante Hebert.”

An overwhelmed gasp came from the European Champion! A man of few words.

“Oh that was beautiful! Look at him! That charisma!! That acting raaaaaaaaaaaaaange!!!! This is a mega star in the making, people! Now that we’ve met our contestants. Let’s get a word from our sponsor? Oh, no sponsor! I am sponsored by Omaha Steaks..”

No, he wasn’t.

“I’d like to be.”

The frustrated pout came from the Champion.

“Okay, tears aside. Both of these gentlemen are from the great continent of Europe..Right? Yep! Pio! The pride and joy of Naples going to war with the Charismatic Frenchman from Lyon, Chante! Who’s going to buzz in first… Which country is home to the Manchester United Soccer team?”

Chante raised his hand.

“It’s football.”

Getting overly excited for seemingly no reason, Montoya nearly falls over from the sheer charisma of Chante.

“I needed to recover there for a second. Someone get me a towel! No.. It’s soccer! Football is where fat men wear helmets and slam into each other like a bunch of tatted up sumo wrestlers. Big difference. First point goes to Duane!”

“It’s Pio!”

“Pio!!!”

Montoya reached out of the ring, and returned with a star that had P-O on it. He kindly put it on Pio, giving the signature bullshit grin on his face that the game show hosts made so famous.

“Oh boy, we have ourselves a competition now! In what great country were perogies invented? Not much time to answer boys.”

Pio went to raise his hand..Montoya slapped it down.

“Poland?”

“France?”

Montoya again slapped Pio’s hand down.

“Wrong! The correct answer is Wrestleworld!”

Both students gave him a glare. Montoya didn’t really seem to care, showcasing that smile while he adjusted his jacket. He wasn’t sure who the jacket actually belonged to, but was the perfect prop.

“Does that light up?”

“Yes.”

Moments had passed, with many expecting to see him light up the jacket.

“Moving on! We’re entering the third question, and this one is worth sixty whole points, deeming the previous rounds completely pointless! Are you guys ready to figure out who the smartest European is?”

“I thought this was Guess The Gimmick.”

Montoya responded by slapping Pio’s hand down once again.

“Here we go, boys and girls! The moment that we have all been waiting for. The final question is, how do you win a European Rules Match according to Wrestleworld?”

Pio went to raise his hand, but suddenly stopped. He answered instead.

“By submission.”

Montoya glanced over at Chante for his answer.

“By submission.”

With such charisma coming from the monotoned Frenchman, Montoya hit the canvas, feigning a blackout before slowly rising back to his feet.

“Oh the raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaange! You’re going to go far, kid! The correct answer is… By Submission!! Congratulations to Pio and Chante for both getting points, and we have ourselves a tie!!!”

Refusing to even acknowledge the extra point that Pio had gotten, Montoya put his arms around the necks of the students with a grin on his face.

“That’s right ladies and gentlemen.. We have a draw! Two students who had only been in the business for a month...And they knew what a European Rules match was! Cynthia Rose, I hate to be the guy..It must be said though. Why don’t you know what the rules of this match are? You wanted the European Title, you’ve been in one of these matches once before.. Well, twice if we asked you. Did you assume this was a World of Sport match with the ROOOOUND system? Nope, we don’t do that here. I know a place that does though, you ought to check it out sometime. Regardless, Cynthia, if you were on this game show.. You would lose to these students the same way you’re going to lose to me at Arcadia.

I’m not even questioning your intelligence, young lady. You seem like a well spoken, albeit naive little one. You wanted this match so badly that you didn’t even do your homework! You know what happens to people who don’t do their homework, eh boys?”

His grip tightened around the necks of the students. Both of them were cringing from the massive biceps of the Last Breathing Outlaw. All he could do was smile.

“You get five minutes with the Champ.”

Suddenly letting go of the poor guys, Pio stumbled back, looking at Chante. Montoya slowly pulled off his sparkled jacket, shaking his body around for no reason. Was he drunk? He might have been drunk. Montoya stared at the two, losing his cool finally as he took off one of his shoes and whipped it at poor Pio.

“YOU FIRST PIO!!!”

Pio wanted nothing to do with this.

“What’s the matter? I’d say you are a perfect ringer for my opponent at Arcadia. You’re small, you have a lot of heart.. But that’s about it. See, Cynthia, my free advice to you is about to come at the hands of Pio over here. Sure, he doesn’t have the blonde hair, act like a tomboy, and rely on the information or teachings of a guy who never once set foot inside of a ring. Unlike you, he wasn’t sold a bill of goods. He wasn’t told lies.. And he certainly wouldn’t believe them. This boy right here, as tiny and hilariously weak as he is.. He wrestles like a three year veteran. That’s one month of training and he’s already miles ahead of you, Cynthia. Hilarious to think. Now, let’s see how he does. He’s about to go one on one with the Wrestleworld’s Finest.. Not the World’s Finest, because that shit was fake.. The Original Rockness Monster himself.. Cooooooooooltoooooooooooooooooooooon… Nah, we’re sticking to slave names, COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLT MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONTOYA!!!! That’s right, emphasis on the moon!”

Montoya, pulling his other shoe off, beaned the ring bell to start the match.

“Ding..Ding.”

The Champion circled the ring momentarily with Pio. Despite wrestling without shoes on, Montoya had nearly seven inches of height on the rookie.

“I’ll even give the commentary for this one. Pio, your name for this match will be Cynthia. You’ve earned it.”

With a sudden lock up in the middle of the ring, Montoya slams his arm over the arm of Pio, breaking the lock up in order to turn it into an arm wrench.

“Oh wow! The European Champion with an amazing Mongolian Armbar right in the middle of the ring. How can Cynthia ever stand a chance against such a dominant force like COOOOOOLT Montoya? The world may never know.”

Pio struggled in the arm wrench, however he used his speed to reverse the wrench into a go behind.

“Alright.. The Champion seems to be in trouble! Could Cynthia Rose use this opportunity to get a quick submission??”

Grabbing onto the shoulders of Montoya, Pio leapfrogged over his back, landing directly in front of him. Pio turned around, meeting a heavy forearm from the Champion, followed by a knee lift.

“Oh no! Cynthia is in trouble here! There’s no way...Oh no..”

Montoya charged into the ropes with authority, sliding in before bouncing off…

“Cynthia is the three ball..and it’s going into the corner pocket….”

A hard Mafia kick across the head of Pio.

“BOOOOM!!!! THE THREE BALL IS GONE!!! Cynthia Rose is down!!!”

Montoya pulled Pio to his feet, gripping around each side of his neck as The Champion made eye contact with the victim.

“This could have been so much easier, Cynthia. All we had to do was talk things over and show each other the respect that we know we deserve. This could have been all for sportsmanship and a great main event that the world might ACTUALLY want to see. You did this.”

Throwing the head of Pio down, Montoya hooked his hands around the waist of Pio, lifting him up into the air. Holding him in place for a moment, Montoya threw him down with a powerbomb..

“WITH AUTHORITY!!! CYNTHIA ROSE IS DOWN FOR THE COUNT!! I WANT YOU TO GET USED TO HEARING THIS.. BECAUSE AFTER ARCADIA, PEOPLE WILL BE SAYING THIS ABOUT YOU UNTIL YOUR LAST DAY ON THE PLANET.”

Pulling Pio to the middle of the ring by his shoe, Montoya cinched in a standing keylock across the leg of the student. Like a wild animal dragging around his prey, Montoya pulled the leg up, stepping over into his variation of the Half Boston Crab, known to the Wrestleworld fans as the Base Burner.

“That easy.. Listen to it.. Cynthia Rose has no choice.. No choice but to submit!!!! The Champion retains at Arcadia!!! The Champion retains at Arcadia!!! One more time for voiceover work… THE CHAMPION RETAINS AT ARCADIA!!!!!”

Pio had no choice but to submit to the Base Burner. Montoya threw the leg down after ragdolling the poor rookie.

“This has been a glimpse into the crystal ball, Cynthia. You have spent so much time trying to dissect The Last Breathing Outlaw. You assume so much, but know so little when it comes to the things I can do inside of this ring. This is the end of the line for me, make no mistake about it, Cynthia. You are the final Wrestleworld opponent for Colt Montoya. Congratulations, you earned it. You found your seat at the Adult’s table by winning the World Domination match.. Understand this though. You dominated nothing.

You came in as an underdog, and came away with the victory. I do the same thing on seemingly an endless loop. I go into each match around here as an underdog for no goddamn reason, and I always… ALWAYS walk away with my hand and Championship raised high. As the night ends, and the fans leave that building, they will ask the same question that I’ve been wondering for the better part of a month now.

Why did we ever get behind Cynthia Rose to begin with? She will let us down every chance she can. She failed us at Arcadia and..well, we’re modern wrestling fans...right? How could she ever win our confidence back?

You wanted a chauvinist opponent that the crowd could jeer, yet you picked the wrong guy. I’ve lost by submission before to a lady. Shit happens, I’ll own my defeats when they come. It was the only time I had a submission defeat in my entire career. Now, you have a chance to follow in the footsteps of some of the best on the planet. Cynthia, this isn’t a simple round of sparring matches like my poor friend Pio just went through..

No, the lights will be their brightest, the pressure will be its highest, and the Championship will be gleaming and shining like it never has before. All for me to walk out of the company with that Championship around my waist. Fooling yourself will get you nowhere, you’re simply not ready. You’re not the person that I know can take me down inside of the ring and force me to submit. You lack every great intangible to make that happen.. Why? Because you are facing, most dangerously enough, a guy who has nothing to gain.. And everything to lose.

This is the end..

Once the book closes on Cynthia Rose vs. Colt Montoya.. You will just be another background character unless you get your shit together. Got it?”

Resting his arms across the top rope, Colt looked down to the outside of the ring. His thoughts had gotten the better of him. When he said that it was the end, it hit him. The end was coming, the end was near. He would have to make the most of this iconic match, one that the world deserved to see in the Main Event should that happen. Upon climbing out of the ring, Colt Montoya sat down on the ring apron, putting his shoes back on, the ring back on the finger, and a prompt exit across the room to refocus his thoughts. He was reaching the end of the rope, Colt’s Last Stand was reaching its final stop.