The scene: A dark, foreboding castle, high up on a craggy hill. The moon is full, a bright beacon in the inky blackness of the Stygian night. A bat flies by, the flapping of its wings the only sound that breaks the unnatural silence until, far off in the distance a wolf howls but once, and then falls silent.

So basically, it’s spooky.

Inside the castle an unconscious Ballsofsteelandfury is being tied to an ornate wooden chair by Lilith, leader of the Novias del Vampiro. Yolanda and Rosa are there as well. Rosa is still trying to get all of the mud off of her after her fight with Covalent Blonde.

Rosa (plaintively): Jeez, I don’t think I’m ever gonna get all this grody mud off! Yuck!

Lilith: Stop your complaining. We went to the bar looking for a meal, but came away with the greatest prize of all!

Rosa (pulling mud out of her hair): Him?

Lilith: Yes, him. I sensed immediately that he is a true son of the Aztecs. His blood will…

Rosa: ‘Open the gateway to the netherworld and spill forth the old gods, where they will take their rightful place as the masters of humanity once again.’ Yeah, y’know, we have heard it all before.

Lilith (affronted): This time is different.

Rosa: Uh-huh. That’s what you said last time. And the time before that.

Yolanda: Si.

Rosa: Remember that surfer from Fresno?

Yolanda: Y ese vendedor de Toledo?

Rosa: Omigawd, right? He was a real screamer, too. And he wasn’t even Mexican…he was Cuban!

Lilith (annoyed): I’ll admit, I made a mistake that time. That was right after we fought those vampire hunters. Their pinche holy water gave me a runny nose.

Rosa: What-ever. Look, all I’m saying is that we could have used your help back there.

Yolanda: ¡No mames! ¡Ésa rubia te estaba dando una madriza!

Rosa: She didn’t fight fair! And we were in mud! Like, you couldn’t even win a fight with that weird bowling ball!

Yolanda: ¡Oh, yo no voy a oír estupideces de una puta Niña del Valle! ¿Quieres un pedazo de mi?

Rosa (baring her fangs): Any time, puta!

Lilith (stepping between the two): Enough! I am sick of your constant bickering! And look…you’ve awoken our guest.

They look toward Ballsofsteelandfury, who is watching the drama between the three from his chair.

Ballsofsteelandfury (shooting an awkward but recognizable finger gun): Actually, I’ve been awake for awhile.

Rosa: Like, he knows our plan!

Ballsofsteelandfury: Pretty much, yeah.

Lilith: But aren’t you frightened? Shouldn’t you be trying to get away?

Ballsofsteelandfury (shrugging): Eh.

Yolanda: ¿Tal vez es un poquito, ya sabes, lento…?

Ballsofsteelandfury: Look, you think you’re the first supernatural psycho to plan on sacrificing me in order to bring an elder god back from the beyond in a misguided attempt to rule the world? Not a chance, baby. You’re not messing around with some salesman from Toledo now. You’re messing with Bolas de Oro y Ferocidad!

Rosa: Geez…maybe we should just kill him now…

Cut to: The unnamed bar, where Covalent Blonde, Low Commander, Otto’s Brain and Marc Trestmans Windowless Van are asking questions of Marc’s stoner bud.

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: OK, dude, so, like, can you tell us where those freaky chicks come from, man?

Local: Oh, si.

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: That means, like, “yes.”

Covalent Blonde (impatiently): We know that, Marc. But if he knows where they are, can he take us there?

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: Good question, man! I’ll ask…dude, can you, like, take us there?

Local (regretfully): Ah! No.

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: Sorry, man, he said no.

Covalent Blonde (gripping the back of a wooden chair so hard you can hear it start to crack): Yes, Marc, we got that. Maybe you could ask him why he won’t take us?

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: Yeah, dude, like, how come?

Local: Están en el Castillo…¡De La Muerte!

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: Oh. Yeah. That does sound like a bummer, man.

Otto’s Brain: What? What did he say?

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: He said they’re in, like, the Castle of Death, man.

Low Commander: Why do they call it that?

Local (shrugging): Los que llevan al castillo nunca regresan. Básicamente asumimos que están muertos.

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: It’s like a roach motel, man. Once you check in, you never check out.

Low Commander: That sounds bad…

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: Or like Hotel California, man!

Local (nodding enthusiastically): ¡Si!

Covalent Blonde (turning around to address the room): OK, then, I’m only going to ask this once. Who here has the cojones to take us to this Castle of Death?

The room full of tough guys and bad asses goes quiet. The bartender whistles softly, avoiding Covalent Blonde’s glare as he cleans a glass. A grizzled man in a leather vest with a massive tattoo on his chest tries to look innocent as he puts his knives away. At a corner table, a handsome man in a Mariachi jacket quickly stops cleaning his guns, stashes them in his guitar case, closes the case, and then gets up and leaves the bar.

Covalent Blonde: Seriously? None of you want to give us a hand? What a bunch of pus-

[DOOR FLIES OPEN]

A pair of masked luchadores enter the bar. One is dressed in a black mask with silver spider-webs across it. The other wears a brown mask that has red eyes and dangerous looking teeth.

Señor Weaselo: Señorita! Allow me to introduce myself: I am Señor Weaselo, and my partner is La Araña Discoteca!

La Araña Discoteca strikes a Travolta-esque disco pose.

Marc Trestmans Windowless Van: Cool, man!

Covalent Blonde: OK…

Señor Weaselo: We are here to offer our help! We are luchadores,and well-acquainted with the dark world of the supernatural!

Covalent Blonde: Look, if you could just take us to this Castle of Death place…

Señor Weaselo: ¡ElCastillo De La Muerte! Of course! But first I must make you aware of the dangers you face! They will be many, and each worse than the last…

Covalent Blonde (ushering the DFOers and the luchadores out of the bar): Sure, great. You can tell us all about it in the car.

Señor Weaselo: (being pushed out of the bar by Covalent Blonde): Horrors, I tell you! Unseen by man or beast for hundreds of years!

Covalent Blonde (holding the door as Otto’s Brain scoots out): Horrors. Got it.

Otto’s Brain: Hey, can I get one of those masks? They’re pretty cool!

To be continued…