Alberto Del Rio is far from thrilled. Just a couple of days ago, Jack Swagger had landed a sneak attack on him while he was distracted competing against Big Show, clipping his knee and making it nearly impossible to walk on. The trainer had examined it, determined that it was a pretty serious bone bruise and would be tender for awhile, advising him to take a couple of days to rest, skip the week's Smackdown. Ricardo Rodriguez is relieved, since the older man could barely stand on it and he'd had to help him to the back, trying to keep an eye out for Swagger, Colter, Show, or anyone else who might come after them while vulnerable.
Even so, he hates seeing his employer unhappy, and he spends Thursday trying to think of a way to entertain him, at least take a little of the scowl from his face. After a quick supper, he's kneeling down by Alberto's bag, painstakingly folding his scarves- more to have something to do than they actually needing folded, when he spots it. The ridiculous mustache that Alberto had worn while spoofing Swagger the week prior. His lips curl up into a plotting smile. Got it.
Pulling out some paper from his bag, he joins his employer at the table and smiles hesitantly over at him. "El Patron?"
"Si?" he asks grimly, glancing up briefly before turning back to listlessly tapping his fork against the wooden surface. He abhors being injured, especially this close to Wrestlemania, it bringing back bad memories from the year prior when he'd missed out completely on competing at the Grandest Stage of them all...
Ricardo watches the repetitive motion for a moment before leaning forward, sliding some of the paper over to him. "I have an idea."
"About what?" Alberto wonders, his curiosity growing when he takes in the mischevious look on Ricardo's face. "Amigo?"
Grinning toothily, the ring announcer rests a pencil on the sheets of paper waiting for Alberto to begin writing. "Canada," is all he says, eyes gleaming as his employer stares at him uncertainly. It only takes a little more in explanation before the Mexican aristocrat understands, grinning back at his friend, the two men leaning over their sheets of paper as they begin volleying ideas to belittle Del Rio's Wrestlemania opponent and Colter for a second time back and forth. Once done, it all comes down to what they'll wear.
Changing it up a bit, because they've packed different things this week, Ricardo sets up the camera they'd used the week prior, pulls together a couple of quick outfits- which somehow still look better than his first, haphazard attempt at this- and helps Alberto stand, supporting him as he limps over to where they'll be filming. He can walk a little easier than the day prior, though that's not saying much, but it helps Ricardo to feel a little better none-the-less. "Ready?" he asks, scrunching his nose up as the rats' nest of a beard tickles his skin.
"Si, I am," he nods, eyes gleaming for the first time since Swagger had laid him out on Main Event. "Gracias, Ricardo."
The ring announcer smiles and presses play, before stepping back to stand alongside his employer as he stares intensely into the camera. "Hey, Jack," he says quietly, getting into his role, mentally running through the lines once more as they begin.