Bathed in stage blood, Pedro Aguayo does what he does best, and Luche Libre fans love most, he suffers deeply and dramatically, almost biblically, from being 'beaten' nearly senseless by a cheating, mean-spirited enemy.
After being chased by his opponent out into the parking lot, Wolverine is surrounded by a dozen young boys who stare in wide-eyed awe at this vivid scene of romantic wrestling martyrdom.
Superboy gets a last-minute costume tweaking from an assistant backstage at LA's Sports Arena, where a dozen photographers anxiously await his posing and grimacing before he enters the ring.
While the referees turn their backs to 'discipline' one opponent, another has snuck up on El Segrito, one of the half-dozen midget wrestlers whose shrill tag-team bout is a favorite show opener, and left him screaming in well-staged pain from a kick…
The villainous Loverboy struggles theatrically under the boot of the evening's well-beloved headliner, Gran Markus, whose style is methodical and bloodless, like a glacially tempered S&M executioner.
Clutching tight her daughter Debbie, Martha Louis shouts out, and shows with an upraised finger, her obvious disdain for one of the Bad Guys who, in Luche Libre theology, are forever in conflict with the beloved Good Guys.
In accordance with the loosely followed 'script' that the wrestlers craft backstage, Jalisco plays the role of a Good Guy who, because of his trusting nature, turn his back on a sneaky Bad Guy, who momentarily fells the hero.
The culture of Luche Libre demands that its wrestlers enter the ring grandly, accompanied by Wagnerian rock anthems and Vegas-style light shows, and exit very slowly, struggling through a long gauntlet of hugs and handshakes.
Portraying 'Bad Guy' for the pleasure of wrestling fans in Compton is Renegado Estrada, who watches the arena fill from the flimsy safety of a makeshift dressing room pitched in an alley behind the venue.