Coba Aguas Frescas Mango

A lone luchador sits in a dimly lit locker room in a dusty Mexican town. He knows he's getting too old for this, but he wrestles for pride and the money he is paid certainly helps with his bills. He's pretty sure he has a couple of broken ribs from his last match. Never fight in a tag team match when you don't know much about your partner. His was a good for nothing so-and-so just parading around the mat. He was self-centered fool, and they paid for it with the crunch of bones. The luchador can hear the announcer psyching up the crowd. It won't be long before he has to go out in the ring. This will probably be his last match and with his injuries he will get clobbered.
Just then he notices a little boy from the town in the shadows. He calls him over and the boy hands him a bottle and simply says, "mahn-go." Underneath his mask the luchador gives a little smile. He flexes and growls which scares the boy off, leaving his bottle of juice behind. The wrestler unties the back of his mask and lifts it just enough so that his mouth is exposed. As he twists the cap off of the bottle he notices that whoever made it took a lot of care with their label. The paper has a very special texture. He takes a sip and memories of the ancient city of Coba flood into his mind. When he next becomes aware of his surroundings the bottle is empty and he is filled with a renewed sense of purpose. On his lips there is a lingering flavor of ripe mangoes. It is one of the best things he has tasted in recent times. It's sticky and sweet in all of the right ways. He knows what he has to do. He marches out just as the announcer is calling his name. As he enters the ring he knows that he will win this fight for his heritage. Oh, and for the couple of hundred dollars that is the purse. He has some alimony and child support that he owes his ex wife and her lawyer has been sending a lot of threatening letters.