When in Ron'...

It had been some time since Baz Berrycloth had seen his parents. When last he saw them, he was keeping them safe in Spain, far far away from... the mischief. He himself fled to Canada to both have time to sort things out and also divert any potential hunting parties' trails.

However, Baz needed to return to Barcelona, to see his folks again, possibly for the last time?

Elsewhere, an outside shot of an unassuming building, the Hotel htop BCN City, the cheapest hotel one can book without it being a straight-up hostel. Walter and Amelia Berrycloth, two sixtysomethings who never once thought they'd be living in Spain outside of holiday, went about their days as per usual. A knock on the door, an unusual occurrence at this time of day, was the only thing differing it from every other mundane day.

Amelia looked concerned, but Walter, while also looking concerned, screwed up the courage to grab the meat tenderizer, before handing it to his wife. "All right, love, raise this over yer head and when I give the word, clobber whoever's behind that door."

Amelia nodded, though she still wasn't sure she'd be able to when push came to shove. Walter mouthed, "One... two... three!" as he swung the door open...

To see his son Baz standing before him.

And to also see Amelia jump the gun and crack Baz so hard in the head with the makeshift club that the force knocked it clean out of her hands.

"Baz! Lad, is that you?!" Walter said as he quickly ushered his son inside. Amelia looked mortified as the gravity of the situation dawned on her.

"Oh, me baby!" Amelia wailed as she rained affection down upon the bald brute. "I didn't know it was ya! Yer father got in my head that it could be one of those madmen back home!"

"Yeah, yeah, no, it's okay, ma!" Baz tried reasoning with his smothering pile of regret. "It don't hurt me no more!"

Amelia examined her son's head: there seemed to be nary a mark to be seen, no reddening, no swelling, nothing! "He's right, Walt!"

Walter nodded, "That magic thing the lad's got's the real deal, love. Now, Baz, what're ya doin here, comin unannounced?"

Baz took off his jacket and shoes like a good son, and plopped himself down on the couch. He glanced over at his mom, who tried to suppress her look of worry but continued to look worried all the same. "Dad, what ya doin answerin the door like dat if ya were expectin trouble?"

His father winced, the realization setting in, "Ah, well, ya see, yer mum had the mallet, so..."

"So you'd 'ave all been well murked had the real deal come about!" Baz scolded. "Yer lucky it was m-"

A cast-iron pan came down upon Baz' head. Oh, it made quite the clangy thud, but all Baz did was sit there for a moment while Walter's wide-eyed look at his utensil-wielding wife was all she needed to put the pan down.

"Why'd ya go do a thing like that?" Walter exclaimed.

"I-I just wanted ta, ta know for sure!" Amelia reasoned.

Baz shook his head, "Mum, dis is one-a dem fings dat can't be leaked! I don't reckon the governments of de world are gonna wanna be all like, 'Ah, dere's Baz, filled with magic powers and the like, we're just gonna 'ave a chat with the lad and be on our way'! No, mum, dese fings gotta be on the downest of lows, ya feel me?"

Amelia grabbed a butcher knife. "I wouldn't let em hurt ya, me baby!"

Walter slipped the knife out of her hands, "I dunno what's with this propensity for makeshift weaponry, love, but Baz' right. We all gotta be more diligent, don't we?"

They all nodded in agreement.

Hating to break this moment of peace, Baz felt he must. "Dat's why I've come back! Ta let ya both know I reckon I've whipped up a plan."

Walter leads his wife to the couch, both looking on intently.

"Right, so, I figgered, I could do a lotta good wif dese powers, but I also figgered I needed ta be sensible how I go about dese fings. Don't wanna wind up on no lobotomy table or nuthin."

"So what're you gonna do, baby?" his mom asked.

"I, Baz Berrycloth, bein of sound mind an' all dat, am gonna become a wrestler!"

There was another pause.

"Like... Giant Haystacks?" his dad asked anachronistically.

"Giant Haysta-" was all Amelia could get out, so incredulous was she.

"More like Big Daddy, I reckon." Baz corrected. "A real man o' da people! Usin my talents fer good!"

"Showin off yer powers for the world ta see." Walter responded lucidly.

Baz smirked as he slowly shook his head, "Nahhh, see, dat's the fing, dad: wrestlers of all sorts are big an strong and tough and all dat, so 'ow are dey gonna even know?"

"Uh-" was all Walter could get out. Baz tapped at the side of his head.

"Wh-when is this, uh, supposed to... happen?" Amelia asked. This plan did in fact not sit well with her.

Not noticing his mom's hesitation, Baz slapped his hands together and flipped the tv on, quicky rifling through channels until a wrestling show appears, already in progress.

"Aw, perfect!" Baz said excitedly, "It's just about ta start!"

Walter's eyes narrowed warily, "What is, lad?"

Then:

A man clad in the Union Jack as a makeshift cape of sorts stood facing ¾ away from the viewer. They slowly turned to fully address the camera.

“Ello. My name's Baz. Now I ain't known for going at length wiv dese type-a fings, but it's time ta uh-dress de elephant in da room.”

He chuckled, pointing at himself. “An dat elephant is ME. You might not see no trunk or tail or none-a dat, but I PROMISE you, I'm just as gentle.”

The smile slowly faded away.

“An just as big an reckless. It's me both sides, innit? But unlike an elephant, I can talk, an I can have a go at de predators out dere in ways only an elephant can dream of!

Ya see, me mates may call be Baz, an if yer on de level, you can too, but to my ENEMIES, I am OFFICIALLY referred to as Mr. People, aren't I?

Life ain't no peaches an' cream no more, doubt it ever was, but never mind, lads and lasses, because wrongs gonna be RIGHTED an' in short short order!

You can't rely on de coppers, but you can rely on me, cuz I will not ‘esitate to use dis fing ‘ere:”

Showing off a big meaty fist.

“Until alla dat mischief's undone!”

He gave his fist a good looking at, proud of all the battles it's been through, all the bones it's broken, and all the bones that have been broken inside of it. All the good that has been done with it, and let's not forget the other one too.

“An DAT'S why dey call me Mr. People!!” Baz shouted passionately. “Cuz I am a man FOR da people, BY da people, WITH da people,... uh… and all da rest dere! An if someone's doin a bit of mischief, know dat I am ‘arder dan de streets! School of ‘ard Knocks? Call me Da Dean! An school…”

He pounded his fist into his other hand, a malicious excitement creeping onto his face. Then he thought for a second.

“Well, it's da summa so it ain't in session, like, but…”

He milled it over for a couple seconds more. Then he smirked, nodding his head as he tapped at the side of it.

“Summa classes start now.”

Then he lowered the tv's volume, looking quite pleased with himself. He looked on expectantly at his parents.

"Oh, Baz..." was all Amelia could get out.

"Baz! Lad! This ain't keepin things on the downlow!" Walter exclaimed. "Ya didn't think this one through!!"

Baz chuckled as he patted his dear old dad on the back, "Ahh, but dat's where yer wrong, dad! Who's gonna question my creden- my credensh- my skills, who? An' besides, wrestlin's got like wizards an' giants an' alla dat; among dem folks, Mr. People's gonna look well normal, ain't he?"

Walter checked on his wife, resting a hand on hers, "The lad's got a point, love. This is all sound. Hide in plain sight, as it were."

Amelia was slow to get through to, but eventually gave in. Baz wasn't her little baby anymore.

"Mr. People though?" Amelia got out, a bit of a tremble in her voice, both from a hint of worry and in an attempt to shove out a joke.

Walter chuckled as Baz smiled at his mother slowly coming around. "Cuz I'm about da people, mum! I can make a real good diff'rence in dis world, watch!"

Amelia couldn't help but crack a smile, "And who taught ya to be such a do-gooder?"

"You did, mum." Baz said, pointing right at her, "You an' dad. An' I'm gonna do ya proud, you'll see."

He rose back to his feet, walking toward his coat.

"Goin already?" Walter said as he put an arm around his big burly boy.

"I've got dis fing I gotta do while in town." Baz replied as he put his shoes back on. "An' the sooner I do it, the sooner fings go my way, the sooner I make a name fer myself, the sooner yer all back at home wif a pint and a pie in yer 'ands."

Walter went in for a hug. "Well, just keep yer wits about ya, lad."

The mere embrace of his father was nearly enough to have Baz come apart - this was going to be a long and arduous road, but one he was willing to hijack down.

Then the rolling pin came down on the back of his head with a deep thunk. Baz sighed, before turning around to see Amelia standing there, looking in awe as if she hadn't done this three times already.

"I-I'm sorry, me baby!" she wailed, "I just can't wrap me brain around-"

But Baz interrupted his mom in order to hug her too. "Don't you worry, mum. Everything's gonna be all right! I'm Mr. People!"

He then wiped a few tears from her face before disengaging, nodding to both parents, and departing.

The door opens again a moment later, "Oh, an' next time, use da peephole!"

Later...

Hiroshi Nakamura looked at his watch again. He happened to briefly be in town and was looking forward to a quick word with one of the newcomers to Ultimate Wrestling. But, his time was quickly running out, and it wasn't seeming like the interview was going to take place after all.

He would wait a bit longer outside of Haneda Airport, but he'd eventually have to leave this mainly abandoned venue. He still didn't understand why he was asked to meet here of all places. Ever since Blovid-13 turned everyone's lives upside-down, places like this are really only good as oversized paperweights.

Finally, a meaty hand rested itself upon the much smaller man's shoulder.

"Huh?" Hiroshi said before looking up at the large Brit. "Oh! Mr. Berrycloth, you came!"

"Apologies, Mr. N." Baz retorted, "Hadda, uh, sort some fings out wiv my old folks."

Hiroshi nodded, unaware of where they weren't, "I understand, but unfortunately I now have very little time to go in-depth with you."

Baz sucked his teeth. Then, some "random" passersby (read: gaijin who seek out anything wrestling related) noticed Hiroshi, a familiar face to wrestling fans, speaking with a very large man, very not familiar to wrestling fans, and thought this, this was the ideal time to stick their noses where they may not have belonged.

"He-e-e-ey, is this a new wrestler you're interviewing?" one of them asked, possibly a bit drunk.

"Sorry, we don't have time for this." Hiroshi tried saying as apologetically as he could.

Baz, however, held out a hand, "Sorry, Mr. N, I'm a man of da people an' all dat. We gotta make time fer dis."

"What's your name?" another of the rubberneckers asked Baz.

Baz pointed at himself, "Oh, who, me? My name's Mr. People!"

Hiroshi shook his head. "Mr. Berrycloth, it's better to just use your regular name, don't you think?"

He looked confused for a moment, then nodded at Hiroshi as he tapped the side of his nose.

But then Hiroshi got an idea: he leaned in and whispered to Baz, "Why not tell them about the show you'll be on? This way I get something out of this... and so do they."

Baz shrugged, "Well, you may or may not 'ave seen me on tv already, but I'm Baz Berrycloth, an' I'm gonna be fightin a couple-a blokes in yer fine country!"

Hiroshi sighed.

"Hey, wait, you're debuting at the Ronin Rumble, aren't you?" another among the crowd exclaimed, finally recognizing the triple threat participant.

"Oh yeahhh!" one of their friends added, "he's taking on Feigel and Altuist!"

"Poor bastard." one of the smarkier marks said quietly.

"I agree!" Baz immediately retorted, "I agree! But dere's two of em, so poor bastards, actually! Poor dem, rich me after I've given dem circus clowns a bit of wot it feels like ta 'ave a lion's mouth 'round deir 'eads!"

The crowd collectively scoffed at this ridiculous bravado.

"Yeah, good luck with that, buddy." one of them said mockingly.

The sarcasm lost on him, Baz smiles, "Fanks, bruv, but I don't need no luck on account I got dis fing right 'ere!"

He stupidly showed off his absconded Wheel of Breaking pendant. While it wouldn't mean anything to them, it did cause Hiroshi, up to this point quietly taking notes (maybe just one note), to go bug-eyed as he tried covering it up.

"Mr. N, why is dis currently 'appening ta me?" he asked.

"Are you certain you want to show that off?" he whispered.

Baz thought about that for a moment, then he himself went bug-eyed as he promptly tucked it underneath his shit again. "Right. Well, forget all dat. All ya need know is dat I ain't come ta play no patty-cake or nunna dat. I've come ta Ultimate Wrestlin, ta yer country, ta forecast a 100% chance of rainin blows upon those numpties' torsos!!! Dey ain't leavin dat ring da same heights dey wuz when enterin it, trust! An' dat's all dere is to it!!"

The group backs up at the sudden shift in Baz's demeanour.

One among them speaks up, "Again, good luck with that."

Then they laugh at the silly bald man and leave. Baz looked on as they headed off the property. He pointed at them, "Dey seemed pretty friendly."

Hiroshi was already done. "Mr. Berrycloth... they were making fun of you."

The cogs began whirring in Baz' mind. They whirred and whirred and ground and seized and sparks flew, the whole nine yards.

Then he understood.

"I'm gonna switch deir 'eads wiv deir-"

Hiroshi stopped him from pulling off the limbs of those relative insects. "Hey! Save it for the ring, Mr. Berrycloth."

Still wide-eyed and seething, he nodded at the smaller man, looking on at the swarm of rudeness one last time.