Money in the Bank 2012. Two things foretelling Ricardo Rodriguez' immediate future happens back to back that night- Alberto Del Rio loses yet another opportunity at the World Title from Sheamus, and Dolph Ziggler walks off with the blue briefcase that gives him a chance whenever he wants for the title that El Patron had been hungering for long before his groin injury last December.
Alberto paces the locker room angrily, his eyes blazing as he brushes by his nervously watching ring announcer, breathing heavily. "Ay dios mio!" he yells, finally kicking one of the bags of luggage so hard that it smashes into a wall across the room, Ricardo cringing away from the noise as Del Rio rounds on him, anger and contempt for the situation bleeding from his very pores. "You," he tells him lowly, lips barely moving enough for him to spit the words out, "Your main role from now on will not be as my ring announcer. You will do all you must to stop Dolph Ziggler from cashing in Money in the Bank. Understand? That title will be mine. If I see hide or hair of that peasant during any of that Irish perro's matches, there will be consequences."
He swallows, nodding. Alberto's threats barely phase him anymore, knowing that tomorrow will dawn and it'll be like tonight never happened- as long as he does what he's been commanded to do. "Si, El Patron, I will handle it. Don't worry." Alberto merely sneers at him before storming off to sprawl across the couch and wait until the show is over, when they can leave for the hotel. Ricardo sighs, his mind working a million miles an hour. How... what should I do first?
He scopes a lot. Watching, listening, waiting for opportunities, moments when Dolph might be considering running out to the ring and cashing in. He must keep that from happening, Del Rio's warning echoing in his mind. He's a patient man, but even he can't take much more of Dolph and Vickie Guerrero's repetitive ramblings just after the first couple of hours. This is going to be a long few months, he cringes, unsure how long he's supposed to keep this up. Until El Patron wins the title himself? Until I screw up and Ziggler cashes in anyway? Is it too much to hope that this year we're two for two and Cena losing has started a trend? He frets and worries his nails until they're down to the quick and frets some more.
His only breaks come when he's ordered out to the ring to do Alberto's ring announcing, well aware whenever the match involves Sheamus that that means he must too keep an eye out for Dolph and do whatever he can to curtail the advancing Show Off. Somehow this is worse, the tension following him in his dreams, long, confused chases around arenas and even hotels sometimes, trying to keep Dolph off of Sheamus. Sometimes he succeeds, a lot of times, he fails. Those times he wakes up blurry eyed and horrified, ready to apologize profusely to Alberto until he finds him asleep on the bed across the hotel room, realizing quickly that it's a dream.
It happens during a match against Cody Rhodes, Dolph is finally ready, waving his briefcase at an excited Vickie before he dashes off. He's moving so fast that he doesn't even notice Ricardo, or the wire that is suddenly pulled snug in front of his path, his ankles firmly snagging it before he stumbles forward, trying to collect himself, succeeding only to fall face first into the nearest wall with a resounding thud. Even Ricardo winces at the noise before ducking away, releasing the tripwire to hide as Vickie comes rushing over, squeeching and demanding what happened, unused to her client being clumsy in any way.
Dolph, stubbornly with his eyes set on one goal, waves her off and goes running down to the ring anyway- Ricardo holds his breath, closing his eyes- but... as he holds out the briefcase to the referee, he looks ill, his hand pressed to his still aching face. As the fans buzz and Sheamus regains his footing, this moment of weakness leaves him vulnerable and just slow enough. One Brogue Kick later and it's done, the briefcase not cashed in, Dolph not even close to becoming World Heavyweight Champion, and... Ricardo breathes easier that night as he returns to Alberto's locker room, relieved to find a pleased El Patron waiting for him.
This seems to have spooked Dolph, who ends up in a rivalry against Chris Jericho before he leaves for Fozzy business, and thankfully this distracts him, which gives Ricardo time enough to plan his next strategy on keeping Dolph away from cashing in. Sheamus ends up with a rematch against Tensai and, considering how brutal the first match between the two had been, Ricardo has a feeling that Dolph will try something. Preventive measures, he tells himself, sneaking into the main locker room and finding Dolph's things, the pink shirt that he uses as an Asscape the telltale sign that he's in the right place.
Unable to decide, he ends up leaving with that shirt, wandering down the hall to finalize his plans. It had taken quite a bit of preparing, especially with people going back and forth so much, but finally he thinks he's ready, just in case. Sure enough, during Tensai vs Sheamus, he hears Dolph complaining to Vickie about his missing pink shirt- "I bet Zack Ryder stole it, that damn mark," he snaps, passing by where Ricardo is hiding once again- and it's obvious he's scoping, standing by a monitor and just watching, waiting for an opportunity to strike, the blue briefcase of course by his side.
Their backs are turned when he slips back out and lays the pink shirt down carefully, looking up with a calculating gaze before nodding and ducking back behind the stack of supplies left laying around by WWE. He melts into the shadows perfectly, awkwardly adjusting his sleeves as he waits. There are a few variables about this that makes him uncomfortable but finally Vickie, for whatever reason, turns to look behind them and spots it. "Dolph," she hisses. "Is that your shirt!?"
He turns sharply and stares, his eyes widening. "It is! How did it...?" Ricardo counts to three as he marches over to the shirt and picks it up, his fingers just barely grazing the fabric when the ring announcer pulls with all of his might, something snapping overhead. Vickie screams as Dolph looks up, a large box- taller than both of them- clanging down to the ground on top of him.
"DOLPH!" she cries out, fearing that he's been smashed. "Dolph, oh my God-"
"Vickie," he yells back at her, voice muffled through the heavy material. "I'm ok, the box- it's... empty inside and didn't have a bottom." He pounds against the side, sounding annoyed. "I'm stuck in here though!"
She frets and presses her hands against it, unable to even shift it. "Hold on, Dolph, I'll get help!" As she rushes off, her high heels clicking desperately with each step, Ricardo inches out of his hiding spot and grins, walking around the large box. He's still standing there when Dolph begins muttering, "Bad memories, bad memories... I don't wanna go back to Ohio...!"
Ricardo makes a face, wondering what that's about, before he leaves, not wanting to get caught by anyone. As cartoony as the idea had been, it'd worked out perfectly. There will be no cash ins tonight.
If he has his way, no night ever.
There are a number of monitors surrounding the gorilla position but most guys frequent one in particular, because it's the largest screen in the building outside of the titantron, makes seeing the action almost like being right there first hand. Ricardo scopes it out, grinning as he sets a few things out around it, well aware that someone as vain as Dolph would immediately gravitate right towards his handiwork. This done, he slips behind a curtain and waits. Sheamus' match is next and he has to be ready, should this idea not work.
But oh, it works- almost too perfectly. Dolph walks up to the monitor, dressed in his wrestling gear and briefcase in hand. Vickie isn't around tonight, off yelling at the board of directors for safety issues following that unfortunate box incident so he has no one around to keep him on the straight and narrow, his eyes immediately bypassing the monitor and locking on the full sized mirror next to it. He turns his head, analyzing his appearance, before looking back at the monitor. Sheamus and Jinder Mahal are locking up in the middle of the ring when his attention is diverted again, noticing a bottle of something on the table. "Root touch up," he reads off, looking almost offended as his gaze returns back to the mirror. His hands dig into his hair as he cringes. "Ugh..." He was toying with the idea of going back to brunette again, but oh God, while he waited for the blonde to leech from his locks, the result looked really ugly- like he had platinum worms wiggling out of his skull.
Forcing his focus back onto the match, he's toying with the handle of his briefcase when something else catches his eye- a booklet proclaiming training tips for a lean, muscular core. He once more looks annoyed, snapping it up from the table and reading it. His gaze returns again to the mirror and he turns sideways, examining himself. His time in the gym this morning had been cut short and he was definitely feeling it, his body not quite to his liking just by missing one day of Empty Stomach Cardio. "Damn," he growls, shaking his head at his reflection. "It's like someone's trying to tell me something."
Ricardo peers out from his hiding spot and tries not to laugh, holding his breath. Luckily for him, the match comes to a conclusion at that moment, Sheamus winning against the Punjabi athlete, and Dolph scowls at the monitor, knowing that there's no chance for him to even get a sneak victory here, the Irishman barely out of breath as he raises his title in celebration of yet another victory. Dolph rolls his eyes, grabbing his briefcase and storming off to do some late night cardio from his locker room to distract him from his hair.
Despite being overlooked by most of the actual competitors as nothing more than Alberto Del Rio's personal ring announcer, Ricardo has grown to know some of the techs and other staff members who make sure that things behind the scenes go smoothly as possible. They become part of his plan this week as he runs across one of the friendlier ones, Steve, and listens intently as the slightly older man rants on about some glitch or that, his job stressing him out to the point that Ricardo thinks he would've raged to anyone. "I need something amusing to hear, I swear to God, or I'm going to lose it," he says, running his fingers through his hair.
It's at that moment that Ricardo notices Zack Ryder wandering by and says, keeping his eyes straight ahead so neither would realize he's well aware of Zack behind him, "Well the only amusing thing I've really heard all day is El Patron telling me that Ziggler's spreading around the locker room that Zack Ryder tried to be on the Jersey Shore and they rejected him, said he was a poser or something like that."
As Steve's gaze flickers behind him, he can hear as Zack skids to a stop and turns back to look at him. "Are you serious, bro?!" he snaps, hating nothing more than to be affiliated with that lame reality show. Before Ricardo can even say or do anything else to further this along, Ryder stomps off, his face an interesting shade of red.
Easiest distraction ever? Ricardo thinks, feigning anxiety as he looks back at Steve. "...Oops." Dolph obviously doesn't even make it to the monitor for Sheamus' currently ongoing match this time, Ricardo walking past the two rivals arguing loudly just outside of the locker rooms as he returns to Alberto's to find out when his match is so he can be ready to announce him out.
The next attempt is pretty straight forward, set up right by the gorilla position. This way he'll only use it if Dolph approaches during Sheamus' match against a freshly returned Mark Henry and... oh. Yep, he seems determined to do it after missing out the last few times, pacing anxiously in front of the monitor with a glower on his face, his fingers tightly wrapped around his briefcase's handle. Vickie is watching him nearby, all a-flutter and proud.
The match ends, Sheamus just barely eaking out a victory, so beat up he can barely stand afterwards and Dolph heads for the titantron, Vickie following him. "Dolph!" she cries out just as he's about to leave. "Hang on just a second." He turns back to look at her as she saunters over to him and- Oh God, what the- Ricardo's eyes widen as she grabs Dolph and thoroughly kisses him and- Ah God, tongue!- Ricardo, trying to cover his eyes, pulls the rope too soon and thick, brown syrup pours from a bucket hanging above them. It only just splatters Dolph because he's out of position but it covers Vickie nearly from head to toe, the two freezing in the midst of their impromptu makeout session. The scream that follows is epic, even for her, and Ricardo quickly retreats, mumbling to himself in a disturbed fashion as he rushes away, desperate to get that vision out of his head.
Deciding to take a break from such overly thought out plans, he goes one simpler the next time around: sneaking again into the locker room, he's relieved to find it empty. Everyone's in catering, which had just opened for the evening, and... well, it's the perfect opportunity as he quickly finds Dolph's bag and digs out every bit of wrestling gear that he can find. Wrist bands, trunks, boots, kneepads, elbow guards, even his wrist tape, all get tossed into a plastic sack that Ricardo had brought along for this. Good luck finding last minute replacements, he thinks, ducking out as smoothly as he'd ducked in. Sometimes it helps being invisible to 90% of the staff around here.
Dolph does try again that night, the briefcase in hand as he marches out to the ring after Sheamus' match, looking annoyed and uncomfortable in his slacks and dress loafers, but he doesn't let it stop him- until a raging Mark Henry scoops him up like he's nothing and hits him with a bone-rattling World's Strongest Slam. Ricardo almost feels bad for him. Almost.
"Senorita Lee," he greets the new Raw General Manager with a forced smile, rocking back on his heels anxiously. As she stares at him, tilting her head curiously, he gulps. Everyone in the locker room knows how the new GM reacts to being stared at- especially by men. Her interest is truly the very last thing he needs, between trying to keep Dolph occupied during Sheamus matches and doing his usual duties for El Patron, he has more than enough going on... He treads carefully, taking a deep breath. "Ehh, Alberto Del Rio wishes me to tell you."
"Tell me what, Ricardo?" she asks sweetly, blinking up at him. For a wild moment, he can almost understand why, despite her craziness, so many superstars had been swayed by her coy, innocent charms.
He shakes his head, reminding himself of his duties. "He- I- a number of people have seen Dolph Ziggler staring at pictures of you. It appears he is quite... infatuated."
She stares at him, intrigued. "Oh? I never see him around, however. He doesn't seem like the shy type... Wouldn't he tell me himself if this were so?"
Ricardo stammers a bit, pressing his fingers together. "Yes, well, you know, he probably would if not for Vickie Guerrero." Those are the magic words, AJ Lee's eyes growing dark with realization and some anger.
"I see," she says, her voice matching her expression. "Thank you for telling me this, Ricardo." As she moves past, patting his arm, he turns and watches her leave, eyes wide.
Awhile later, when Sheamus' match begins, he wanders the hallways, finally finding Dolph and Vickie a few feet away from the titantron, AJ Lee standing with a wicked grin on her face as she faces off with Vickie Guerrero, not bothered by the manager in the slightest now that she has the advantage over the older woman. A confused, flabberghasted Dolph appears to be trying to hold the peace between the two, no focus at all on the match as it carries on.
The next idea takes some careful timing- he has to wait until Sheamus and Antonio Cesaro are out for their match, and no one else is around. He licks his lips and finally, finally sets to work, his hands trembling as seconds tick by. It seems to take forever but finally he completes his mission, ducking once more behind his usual hiding spot- and just in time, too, as Vickie and Dolph's arguing voices echo back towards him as he peers out.
"I told you I'm not interested in AJ Lee! I don't know who's starting these rumors. I haven't said anything about Ryder and Jersey Shore, and I haven't been looking at pictures of her! I prefer more mature women," he says, obviously trying- and failing- to calm her down. "Please, Vickie, can we just... talk about this later? I want to watch this match."
Ricardo holds his breath and waits, watching and hoping that this plays out alright, that what he's attempted will work out. Despite being dazed by some of Cesaro's offense, Sheamus still manages a victory against the US champion and is struggling to his feet at the same time that Ricardo is watching Dolph struggling to go out to the ring. "What's wrong with this thing?!" he snaps, unable to move the curtain to walk through the gorilla area. Vickie tries helping as well, her tugging just as useless as his. "Did someone glue this?!"
Ricardo ducks away, covering his mouth as he tries not to laugh- again- and give himself away. Eyes wide, he peers back out as Dolph throws a mini-tantrum right there, throwing the briefcase to the ground and stomping it. He snickers, knowing that, yes, there will not be a cash in this evening either, and leaves, sneaking inside of an empty locker room to have a good laugh.
He's steadily running out of ways to sabotage Dolph's attempts, but damn he has to admit it's been amusing in the meanwhile.
Dolph appears to be disgusted with the whole thing by the next event, leaving his briefcase just laying around the locker room while he goes to catering or to shower, which makes it almost too easy for Ricardo. As he leaves the service counter of the arena, the lost and found box suddenly taken up by one, abandoned, blue briefcase, he buries his hands in his slacks pockets, trying to look calm and dignified. He's just passed by the main room when he hears a horrified yell, "OK WHO HAS IT? ... RYDER!"
He blinks, wondering why Dolph is so obsessed with Zack Ryder, that every time something of his goes missing, he blames the Long Island Iced Z. It wouldn't surprise him to hear that Zack is at the top of Dolph's list of culprits behind all of the mishaps he's endured since gaining the Money in the Bank briefcase. Shrugging, he continues on his way, knowing that the lost and found will be the last place Dolph goes to look- once more missing his chance at cashing in.
Sheamus' match is kicking off the show this time around and Ricardo frets- he hadn't had time to set anything up, trick anyone into distracting Dolph, nothing. He stares at the monitor, glances over at a bored looking Del Rio, and clears his throat. "Excuse me," he says quietly, ducking out of the locker room when his employer waves him off. He walks quickly down the hall, towards the gorilla, just for something to strike his attention- bright orange hair, familiar southern accent. An idea coming to him, he takes a sharp left and accidentally bumps into Heath Slater. "Hey, man!" the self-proclaimed One Man Band complains, glaring at him. "Watch where you're goin'!"
He nods, coughing slightly. "Lo siento, lo siento." Ignoring the confused look on Heath's face, Ricardo tries again. "Er, you sing, right?"
"Hell yeah, I do! 'Cause I'm the One Man Baaaaaand, baby!" he says, quickly strumming an air guitar before freezing, looking suspiciously down at the ring announcer. "Who wants to know?"
"I- uh, I heard Dolph Ziggler talking and he said that your singing is his favorite part of Raw anymore."
"Oh really?" Heath's eyes brighten with surprised enthusiasm, grinning wide enough that it looks like it hurts. "Well, it's about time people began to see my abilities!"
Ricardo cringes as the West Virginia native walks off, singing loudly as he goes. "Ay dios mio," he mumbles, rubbing his forehead as he heads in the other direction. He doesn't even need to go all the way to the main hallway to see, staying by one of the side corridors, earplugs snugly in place, as Heath hangs around the gorilla position, distracting Dolph and Vickie both who seem to be yelling at him, but he seems nonplussed at the reaction, so into his singing that he doesn't notice the unfavorable response until Dolph throws his elbow pads to the ground and storms off, Vickie relieved to chase after him.
"Hey, where you goin'?! Don't you want an encore?!" Ricardo pulls his earplugs out in time to hear Heath yell, frowning down the hallway at them. He chuckles. Well, another week passing by with no cash in attempt... He sighs, relieved.
The next week, he ponders and he paces and he worries, out of ideas on how exactly to distract Dolph, until Alberto grows exasperated with his nervous movements, ordering him to sit down or leave. Knowing that sitting won't help him think, he reluctantly leaves the locker room and wanders the hall, biting his lip as he peers through one doorway and the next. He's about to walk past the line of locker rooms when he stops, spotting something inside one of them that makes him nod. Ok, this could work. Luckily for him, Zack Ryder and Dolph's bags are similar so he quickly swaps them, leaving Zack's things behind for Dolph and Dolph's things behind for Zack.
He hovers in the hallway between the two rooms, trying to look busy with his iPhone- really, he's just half-playing Angry Birds- waiting, and watching. Thankfully it doesn't take too long for things to happen- Dolph walks right past him, Vickie looking at him briefly with a sneer (Their silent disdain for each other stemming from arguments they'd had when Dolph and Alberto had partnered up a couple of times following Dolph's briefcase victory) as he heads into the locker room to get ready for the event, and Ricardo holds his breath. Waiting, listening, and-
"WHAT THE HELL?!" his voice pierces through the door so loudly that Ricardo, despite expecting it, recoils away from the pure volume of the words. "I can't go out wearing these! VICKIE!" She seems speechless for once so he starts yelling anew, "Ok, who's the dumbass who took my bag? Huh? Where is it?!"
Ricardo quickly takes off down the hall, ducking behind a trunk just before the locker room door slams over and Dolph looks from left to right, breathing so heavily it looks like he's about to explode or hyperventilate or both. "I will find you!" he yells. "Whoever did this! I swear to God, you won't ruin this opportunity for me!"
It's just perfect timing that, as Dolph finishes with that threat, Ricardo looking warily out from behind the trunk, Zack Ryder walks down the hall in Dolph's pink shirt, smirking at his rival. "Hey, bro, don't I look SIIIIIIIIIICK in this?!"
Dolph stares back at him, nearly trembling with apoplectic rage. "Take it off. Now," he says lowly. "Now! And stop stealing my stuff! Dammit, Ryder, you're this desperate for a Wrestlemania 29 rematch that you'd stoop THIS LOW?!"
Zack barely blinks an eye and Ricardo thinks he's heard similar complaints from Dolph in the past. "I haven't stolen any of your things, bro. Just happened to find a bag full of your stuff in place of mine- I'd like those back, by the way- and thought I'd test drive your shirt, since Jericho got to try one on a while back." Dolph's face turns so red it almost looks like he's been out in the sun for two days straight and Ricardo gapes as he makes a sound that could almost rival Vickie, Zack quickly losing his teasing stance as he backs away slowly. "Uh, bro-"
Ricardo just ducks back out of sight when Zack turns on his heel quickly and takes off running down the hall while trying to peel the shirt off, Dolph chasing him and yelling at him. The ring announcer coughs awkwardly, wincing. "I guess I've brought him close to snapping." He runs his fingers through his hair, worried that, with his ideas dwindling, he might get more desperate and do something stupid and get caught, which, considering the mindset Dolph appears to be in by now, would be a bad, bad thing. "Ok, ok, I can do this- it'll be fine."
He follows Dolph from a distance, making sure not to get too close just in case. The pay per view is drawing closer and Alberto has another opportunity at Sheamus- Ricardo has to hand it to his El Patron, no matter how many times he gets shafted from the World Title, he remains steadfast in his pursuit of the belt. Determination like that is respectable, and Ricardo has no doubt that soon the Mexican Aristocrat will walk away with the gold. But for now, Ricardo's focus must be on keeping it around Sheamus' waist. It may be easier for Alberto, in the long run, to win it from Dolph but by this point in time, it's more a sense of pride for him to take it from Sheamus, after so many attempts.
It's up to Ricardo to make this possible, so as Dolph walks into the men's rest room, Ricardo peers at the door. He had scoped it out earlier, figured out that the lock was old and close to breaking anyway. It takes barely a minute and a screwdriver and before long, the lock is stuck. He grins down at his handiwork before pulling a sign from his pocket. As he leans over to tape it in, the door jiggles. He freaks and steps back, closing his eyes as Ziggler continues fighting to get out. "Hey! HEY! What's wrong with this damn door?!"
He quickly presses the taped sign to the door, stepping back once more as Dolph presses against it. "I swear to God," he says lowly. "I know someone's doing this BS to me, if you're out in that hall listening to me right now, I promise you I will find you and when I do, you won't be able to move a FINGER without feeling agonizing pain ever AGAIN! Do you understand me!?"
Ricardo bites his tongue, eyes wide with horror, as he quietly dashes up the hall, leaving behind the "Out of Order" sign on the stuck door and one very angry Show Off inside.
"El Patron," he says uncomfortably, nervously shifting before an impatient Alberto Del Rio.
"Si? What is it, hurry up. I have many things to do before the pay per view this weekend."
"Si, of course," he responds, looking up. "I am just wondering... El Patron... how much longer must I keep sabotaging Dolph Ziggler? It has been months," he hastens to explain when Alberto begins to look annoyed. "I am running out of ideas and if he should catch me, well... I have been lucky so far, but I do not wish to risk it much longer and cause you more grief."
Alberto takes a breath, pondering Ricardo's words as he examines the younger man. "I will think about it and let you know this Sunday if you will continue or not." He tilts his head, thinking back over the last few months and how Dolph had only managed a couple of attempts, failing amazingly at both. "You have done well so far, Ricardo. Gracias."
He colors slightly at his employer's rarely given compliment and nods. "De nada, El Patron. It is my pleasure to help you achieve your destiny, you know this."
It is with renewed vigor that night that he looks for a way to keep Dolph from the ring- he has an end game hopefully in sight. Two more events, at the most, and he will be done with it all. The event tomorrow, and the pay per view Sunday. I can do this, he thinks. I can. I will. He's wandering the nearby twenty-four hour grocery store, looking for a particular magazine El Patron had requested, when he spots something down the hair care aisle. He blinks and wanders down it, staring at what had caught his eye. NEW:, the display reads in vibrant colors, Allday Hair Color. Liquid dye. Easy to use. Washes out. Bright, gorgeous, perfect for parties. Don't you want to be a new you? He coughs, peering through the colors, before picking up one of the shades. "This could be useful," he mumbles.
When he returns to the hotel room, Alberto looks up expectantly, his lips twitching upwards as Ricardo hands him over his magazine. "Ah, finally! I have been wanting to read this for so long," he hums, settling in to pore over the articles. He is distracted, however, by the second bag in Ricardo's hands. "What is that?"
It is Ricardo's turn to smirk, an expression that almost rivals Alberto's in evil cunning. "Just a little something for tomorrow, El Patron. You will see."
"Si, I suppose I shall," he mumbles, raising an eyebrow at the younger man before returning to his magazine.
Dolph is renowned for his lengthy preparation time before an event- he painstakingly picks out his clothes, straightens his hair, does a million and one other things most guys probably can't even name. It eventually all started taking so long that he was kicked out of the main locker room's shower and made to go elsewhere, which is why it was so easy for Ricardo to catch him in a more public bathroom at the previous event. And now it plays to his favor again; Dolph has all of his things scattered around his bag when Vickie comes to the locker room to discuss something with him, leading him a ways away so they can argue with the production assistant over something that he seems to refuse to budge on, the conversation growing more and more heated.
Ricardo, carefully, slips inside and stares down at the various sprays and things scattered along the floor, hurriedly pouring out the leave-in conditioner for the liquid in his bottle. He's just finished when he hears voices so he quickly puts the bottle back where it belong and ducks into the bathroom, eyes wide.
"Hey, just give me a minute and I'll be with you," Ted DIBiase says to someone out in the hall, not even looking around as he throws some street clothes over his wrestling gear and leaves as quickly as he'd come.
Ricardo releases a deep breath and quickly ducks back out of the locker room, empty hair dye bottle still in hand.
He's just gotten food for Alberto, bringing it back to him, when he hears shouts and general pandemonium in the locker room. He cracks the door open and glances inside, almost dropping the plate of food as he catches sight of Dolph for the first time with his new hair color- bright orange streaks crisscrossing this way and that- and all he can do is gape.
"Why does this crap keep happening to me?!" he all but wails, pounding his fist against the wall. "VICKIE, why?!" As she struggles to console him, talk him down, Ricardo walks off. He almost feels bad for the briefcase carrier. Almost.
"I know you said he liked my singin' but to go and steal my hair color?!" Heath Slater, for whatever reason, is complaining to Ricardo that Sunday, probably because he has no one else who'll listen to him for too long, especially with Wade Barrett still out of commission.
Ricardo coughs, barely listening as he nods. He's trying to think of, what he hopes is, the grand finale of his role as saboteur but it's not easy and Heath's nonstop rambling isn't helping things any. Perhaps it is a good thing most ignore me, he thinks grimly.
"There you are," Alberto says suddenly, his voice so very welcome to Ricardo's ears after listening to Heath for so long. He drops an arm around Ricardo's shoulders before peering at Heath. "Shoo," he snaps and the ginger rolls his eyes, mumbling viciously as he turns and leaves.
"Gracias, El Patron," he says softly, as Alberto begins to walk, dragging the younger man with him.
"So tonight is the big night, Ricardo. Have you figured out what you're going to do?"
"Eh, si, I believe so. I am just working out some finishing touches in my head. Dolph will not disturb you, El Patron." It was one of his more riskier plans- requiring Dolph to set off a trap, because he wouldn't be there to watch over it... but also, should Alberto agree to end this tonight, it would exonerate him and leave the saboteur in the past with everything else mysterious over the years in this business that had gone on unsolved.
"Good, good, that is exactly what I wanted to hear," Alberto says smoothly, squeezing Ricardo's shoulder.
Alberto vs Sheamus is vicious, back and forth action that leaves Ricardo almost as nervous as he is waiting to see if something goes wrong with his trap, if Dolph somehow manages to make it to the ring after all, or- Alberto targets Sheamus' already weakened arm, snapping it over his knee again and again, into turnbuckles, slamming him viciously against the ring, throwing him to the outside, everything he can think of. Ricardo even gets involved despite his focus being elsewhere, gaining the referee's attention just long enough for Sheamus' attempt at a pin cover to fail, Alberto wiggling out and managing another unyielding armbreaker across his knees.
Sheamus regains his equilibrium quickly, however, and tries for a Brogue kick, Ricardo yelling out in a mess of Spanish and English as Alberto turns to face him. Thankfully the Mexican aristocrat thinks quickly enough to avoid it and uses the forward motion to lock his knees around Sheamus' pale arm, wrenching back again- and again- and again, until the Irishman is screaming out in agony, scrambling and clawing for the ropes. It's no use, however, and his skin is turning a nasty shade of purple as all of the pressure Alberto has on it is cutting off his circulation. With a wild yell, Sheamus finally gives in, tapping hatefully against the mat and rolling to the side as Alberto kicks him away and immediately begins to celebrate, Ricardo all but screaming into his mic, ordering people to recognize their new World Heavyweight Champion. There is no sign of Dolph, no hint that he will be appearing tonight. Alberto looks ecstatic as Ricardo raises his arm in victory, still rambling into the microphone as the audience boos and jeers all around them, only adding to their pleasure.
As they return to the backstage area, they're barely past the curtain when they hear yells and Vickie squeeching. Ricardo tries not to smirk too widely as Alberto glances over at him, curious what he's about to find. "What did you do?" he mumbles lowly, turning the corner and stopping short as he takes in the scene before him. "Ehh. Ziggler, what are you doing hanging around, as the Americans say, out here?"
It's literally a mad house- Ricardo had decided to go out with a bang, again going to something pulled from Looney Tunes basically, the good ol' dependable net trap. It appears to have gone off perfectly, Dolph upside down in the netting as he glares down at them, hugging his briefcase as they try to figure out how to get him loose without knocking him on his head on the floor below. "Slowly," Vickie squeeches at the men untying the knots that Ricardo had painstakingly worked on earlier.
"She said slowly!" he yells, sounding frantic as the only thing keeping him from falling shifts.
Alberto watches for a few minutes, intrigued at what his ring announcer had accomplished, his focus being too scattered previously for him to really see first hand what Ricardo had done to keep Dolph busy the past couple of months. "Hey, Ziggler," he calls up to him, smirking as he holds his newly won title belt up. "I'll see you around, amigo." As he turns on his heel and leaves, he says happily, "Come, Ricardo."
Following him, the ring announcer glances over his shoulder at the Show Off, who appears to be frothing from the mouth in anger as he watches Alberto leave, squirming so desperately that he's making the net swing, the people below freaking out as they try to calm him down.
Del Rio chuckles when they're entering his locker room, dropping down on the couch as Ricardo prepares the expensive champagne he'd had chilling for just this moment- a quick, private celebration before the true party begins elsewhere. "Ricardo," he says before the ring announcer can bustle off elsewhere to do whatever else he may think to do before they leave. "Sit down for a moment."
Ricardo freezes and turns, sitting stiffly on a chair across from the couch, looking up at him. "Si, El Patron?"
"By what I've seen and heard, you've done quite well with the..." He pauses, trying to think of a proper word. "The eccentric task I gave you to keep Ziggler distracted. Now that I am World Champion, you may resume your regular duties as my ring announcer and nothing else. I will handle him myself, when the time comes."
Ricardo releases a relieved breath, nodding at his employer. "Si, El Patron," he agrees readily. He's just about to stand, preparing to collect Alberto's things and tidy up so they may leave for the celebration to follow, when Alberto holds a hand up, stopping him.
"In a moment, Ricardo. First, I wish for you to explain to me all that you've done over the last few months to keep Ziggler in line, por favor," he says, his eyes gleaming as he sips from the flute.
Ricardo laughs in surprise, his eyes brightening, as he begins his long, ridiculous tale, Alberto's dark eyes focused on him as he goes through each trick and trap, how Zack Ryder had ended up the scapegoat for quite a few of them. As they chuckle together, he relaxes, so relieved that he can now put this all behind him. As amusing as it had been, he had constantly been worrying that he'd be caught or just plainly fail at stopping Dolph. Somehow it had all worked out, his eyes softening as he watches Del Rio shift the title belt along his shoulder, looking reluctant to even let go of the accomplishment for a moment. "Congratulations again, El Patron," he says, leaning over to refill the other man's flute.
"Gracias, Ricardo."