Start of Something New (And Other Olivia Rodrigo References) [Pinchy Promo For DOMINION]

(The camera opens on a fairly depressed looking Pinchy sitting on the shore of Wrestleworld in a pair of pink floral print board shorts and his hard shell slung over on his back.  He sits hunched over a sandcastle, his legs acting as it's border wall at both sides of the infrastructure as he straddles the crumbling foundation.)

Senor Pinchy: Lo que sea sera.  It es a phrase that Pinchy es becoming a'very familiar with.  Whatever will be will be, si?  Destino es written in the stars, y the stars have not a'changed for many años.  Some say that they are already dead, further driving home the point of pre-destiny.  Our fates were written en the heavens before we were a twinkle en our padre's eye stalk.

(A wave laps at Pinchy's feet, threatening to clear the open space between his legs and take down his already falling seaside kingdom of dirt.)

Senor Pinchy: This es why Pinchy did not beat Jacob Striker.  Dos veces Pinchy a'tried under different circumstances, y regardless to the playing field Pinchy lost.  This es OK.  Pinchy does not fault the stars for seeing Jacob Striker as a true Territory Campeón  It es not Pinchy's destino to beat Jacob Striker.  No, but this does not a'mean Pinchy es not meant to be a Territory Campeón.  Ehhhh...a'just not now, si?

(The waves come in once more, this time dousing Pinchy up to his ankles, but still not managing to lick the base of the sandcastle just yet.  They recoil off of the shore once more as Pinchy watches them go with a hint of worry in his deadpan masked expression.)

Senor Pinchy: Some t'ings are inevitable, unavoidable, y only get set back when j'ou step ahead en line.  Pinchy will bide his time, wait his turn, y get his oro when the tides of the universe decide to flow en his favor.  Until then I shall continue to a'weed the field of competencia.  After all, if they cannot beat me they cannot beat Jacob, si?

(Pinchy digs his claws into the sand in front of his castle forge and starts to dig a pit in the sand just in front of his grainy foundation.)

Senor Pinchy: That brings Senor Pinchy to "The Fiery Turbot" Jay Kraab.  Now Pinchy es a having a case of...ehhh, how j'ou say? Ah j'es: deja vu.

Cameraman: hold on now. pardon me for saying so, but you can barely grasp the english language and now you're speaking french?

Senor Pinchy: Lo sé por la canción de esa chica....ehhh...¿Cómo se llama?

Cameraman: i feel like you know who olivia rodrigo is.  i'm not saying i'm any less stunned by the fact that you seem to have some tenuous grasp on modern teeny bopper music, but you're clearly in denial about it for some reason.

Senor Pinchy: Regardless.

Cameraman: i'm not trying to out you as a fan or anything.  this is clearly a sore topic of conversation for you. i didn't mean to come across as if i'm ridiculing your taste in modern pop music.

Senor Pinchy: Eres un traidor senor Steve I'mgoingtokillyourparents.

Cameraman: yeah, 'traitor' was another one of her songs.  boy howdy, you seem to know the catalog.  

Senor Pinchy: REGARDLESS REGARDLESS!

Cameraman: right.

Senor Pinchy: As Pinchy was a'saying antes de el was rudely interrupted by these salacious allegations.

Cameraman: those are big words for you. way out of character.  pull it back a little.

Senor Pinchy:...

Cameraman: i'm sorry, i was just trying to give-

Senor Pinchy:iREGARDLESS REGARDLESS REGARDLESS!

Cameraman: wow.  three regardless's.  that's a first.

Senor Pinchy: ¡Silencio! or I shall say regardless at j'ou for a cuatro time!

Cameraman: you're mad.  this is my fault. i'm way out of turn here. i apologize.

(Pinchy glares at Steven I'mgoingtokillyourparents behind the camera with a mixture of rage and disbelief at his audacity.  As if forgetting it instantly, he snaps his head back around to his handiwork in the sand as a weak wave creeps near but peters out before it even makes it past his legs.)

Senor Pinchy: Anyway! Jay Kraab, I like j'ou.  J'ou are a man of j'our familia.  J'ou are not blinded by comparaciones to your siblings that critics often make.  J'ou do not try to a'leave j'our comfort zone just to appease the doubters or naysayers who accuse j'ou of riding a reputation that es not j'our own.  J'ou do not betray j'our training.  J'ou do not go flashy por the people to oooh y aaaah.  J'ou do J'ou, y Pinchy saludos that.  As someone who has a'fell under críticas similares, I respeto a mang cut out of the same crabby cloth as I, Senor Pinchy.

Cameraman: okay, now go in for the knockout blow.

(Pinchy tilts his head up from his work and stares indignantly at Steve I'mgoingtokillyourparents behind the camera.)

Cameraman: aaaand action.  oh, wait.  we didn't stop recording. uhhhh...just keep goin' i guess.  i-i-ignore me.

Senor Pinchy:...Jay Kraab, maybe this es why we are a'doomed to be where we are en Luchamundo.  Maybe we've...ehhh....¿Cómo se dice? ah j'es: outgrown our shells. A'maybe we should try going beyond the pale of the ocean foam y attempt to stand out from our peers por once instead of being comfortably snug en our old exoskeleton.  We let self-set limitaciones keep us from advancing y defying the estrellas that have sealed our fate as two luchadors destined to fight again, y again, y again just to hit the same glass wall on our tanks.

(Pinchy stops talking as he spots the waves coming in once more out of the corner of his eye.  It reaches the mote in front of the castle and fills it before retreating back to the vast expanse of the sea.)

Senor Pinchy: I'm protecting a kingdom that has already fallen.  The tuna guards have dispersed.  Some mierda about having to a'go home y take care of their hijos e hijas during somet'ing called 'Summer Break'.  Or at least that es the excuse they gave Pinchy.  Pinchy knows the truth though, si? Pinchy knows that he has a'failed them as Rey de Luchamundo.  Pinchy failed twice to capture his crown, y he failed them.  He failed Raza de Garra.  He failed Luchamundo...y now he struggles to hold what's left of his crumbling patriarchy together with violent claws that are not j'used to applying a gentle touch.

(Pinchy watches in futility as the waves swoop in, flood his mote, and take down his sandcastle at it's base.  He tries desperately to clasp it in his claws and rebuild as it falls, only for it to soggily slip through his pincers.)

Senor Pinchy: There es one upside to the inescapable damnation of the inevitable:  When it comes to Jay y Pinchy, Pinchy always comes out victorioso.  Every single a'time, Pinchy es King Crab Supreme.  J'our dominant claw es not as strong as mine.  J'our shell es not as battle hardened as mine. Ahora que lo pienso, j'ou are a pretty sorry excuse por a crab.  J'our exoskeleton es soft as jellyfish y j'ou probably have tomalley envy.

Cameraman: ummm i just looked up his picture on wrestleworld's roster page and uh...i don't think he's an actual crab.  as a matter of fact, it took me a little while to find him because i'm pretty sure you've been saying his name wrong this entire time.  that actually explains the confusion that you've created for yourself.  ah jeez, this must be very embarrassing for you. should i erase our footage and restart from the beginning?

(Pinchy spasms with rage before freezing in a perplexed stare at the man behind the camera.)

Cameraman:...what?

Senor Pinchy: Perdón, ¿puedes cortar un segundo?

Cameraman: sure, but we're running out of daylight.

(The camera cuts off momentarily, only to flash back to life at the awkward angle of  the lens pointed at the ground. The hushed voice of Pinchy hisses from behind the camera.)

Senor Pinchy: Escuchar, I do not think j'ou understang what es going on here senor I'mgoingtokillj'ourparents.

Cameraman: i really don't if i'm honest with you. i mean, you're sitting in the sand building a sandcastle and calling a grown man a crab? this is, and pardon my language and hostile tone, this is malarkey.

Senor Pinchy: Nononono, this es mi bread y butter.

Cameraman: well i didn't know.  i figured you'd have a slight aversion to butter.

Senor Pinchy:...

Cameraman:...

Senor Pinchy: Escuchar...

Cameraman: -because you're a crab, see?

Senor Pinchy: Si, si, I understang, y I respeto j'our vision y cinematography.

Cameraman: see now that's just not a word I'd figure you knew, no disrespect meant.

Senor Pinchy: I understang, but Pinchy a'does not need character notes, si? Pinchy es Pinchy.  Pinchy knows what Pinchy knows, si?

Cameraman: yes. i see. but-

Senor Pinchy: Steven, j'ou are my sweet chico.  If a'anything were to a'happen to j'ou, I'd ink those responsible y give them a little pinch, but j'ou must trust mi instintos.

Cameraman: sorry i snapped like that.

Senor Pinchy: es OK! We just need to start filming y...Oye, why es the rojo light on?

Cameraman: ah jeez-

(After a noticeable cut, Pinchy is back in the sand with his crumbled castle back in his claws as he stares up at the camera anxiously.)

Senor Pinchy: Nosotros estamos rodando?...Ah, si.  As Pinchy was a'saying.  Dis match, Jay? Es a foregone conclusion. Beach Morgan can not save j'ou from the insurmountable destino that has placed us across one another once more en combat.  Pinchy will prevail.  Pinchy will rebuild, and it starts with the first block en the foundation. The one that set the cornerstone to Pinchy's meteoric rise to face Jacob Striker.  J'ou, Jay Kraab.  J'ou shall be the first grain of sand picked up en the new winds that are building the oncoming tempest that es the campaign of Rey Pinchy's rise to the pinnacle of Dominion....was that good?

Cameraman: you're mixing metaphors, but hey you do you chief.

(A weak but reassuring thumb extends out from behind the camera, causing Pinchy's once sad mandibles to crease upwards into what resembles a human smile.)

Senor Pinchy: I am el future that Luchamundo deserves.  I am el crab who shall slay mang y take prominence on this island una vez más.  I am the starfish hanging en space sealing fates y shooting higher.  I am where the ocean meets the sky, y when it comes to j'ou Jay Kraab? I'm punching down to propel myself up to the top.

(The camera moves behind Pinchy as he stares off into the orange and red sunset on the horizon as a mixture of pareidolia and graphics added in post form the vague shape of a crab in the sky.  As the camera fades to black. texts fades in with the darkness reading "A Steven I'mgoingtokillyourparents Joint", before fading out and leaving the viewers in darkness.)