“Allo, my name is El Masko. Last week El Masko lost to a man who had an affinity for women with huge rears. And now El Masko keeps himself up late at night thinking about his tag team match going on the next week. It’s time to go undercover to find out more about El Padrino”
El Masko was standing with a bunch of other new waiters in La Guarida. All in a row and they were getting the run down on how things should be going. When the head waiter clapped his hand to get his attention.
“You. Toss El Padrino’s salad.”
El Masko blinked in confusion.
“Do you not read our menu? El Padrino has a signature house salad. He’s extremely proud of it. And it requires an immense amount of tossing” The waiter motioned to a large bowl of salad with a fork and spoon to toss it. El Masko rushed over and obliged, looking around to scout out for the rogues he would be facing, certain that they would have a meeting here. When he overheard a loud clanging and yelling.
“Shit gets thrown everywhere in this kitchen, so watch out for chef knives” This immediately put El Masko on edge as it made him realize the dangerous and unguarded place he was in. As he turned around to declare he was finished. And hopefully avoid a knife getting thrown his way. He began walking away to signal he was finished.
Only to bump into a large jolly looking man in a chef’s outfit. Who laughed and said “Who is this fella?”
“E-El Masko sir” El Masko said holding out his hand “And who are you?”
“Chef Knives, just wanted to see all of the fresh meat out here.” He took El Masko’s hand and shook it. “Say doesn’t you name sound familiar”
“Oh… no, no something else entirely. Now if you’ll excuse El Masko he will be looking at your well rested fish.” He moved past the imposing chef and went out through the restaurant front door.
A Few Days Later
It was a complete bust, not only did El Masko not find anything that would assist in his match against El Padrino and Martillo. But he had just gotten a letter in very fancy writing.
“Thank you for your on the job test El Masko. La Guarida has made the very unfortunate decision to go a different way and not require your employment.”
“El Masko didn’t even get the job” He sighed as he let the envelope fall into a trash bin. He looks over at a bottle of headache medicine.
“El Masko bets Medicio never had to do this. He is not a man who made it through the med schools. He may hold the mettle championship but he has only a felt will. It’s all floppy and never could handle a tossed salad.”