Alex Delarge vs. Bernardo (West Side Story) | |
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Season 4, Episode 9 | |
Air date | October 21, 2019 |
Written by | I'm Lynda |
Episode guide | |
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Alex Delarge vs. Bernardo (West Side Story) is a What-If? Death Battle by I'm Lynda. It features Alex DeLarge from A Clockwork Orange, and Bernardo from West Side Story.
Note: This Death Battles! was published before the release of Steven Spielberg's 2021 movie, West Side Story, and does not reflect any of Bernardo's feats from that movie.
Description[]
It’s knives, and clubs, and fists, when we pit two street fighters against one another.
Interlude[]
Wiz: Teen street gangs, perhaps the lowest of criminals, but also perhaps the most ubiquitous.
Boomstick: Well known for their violence on the streets of cities around the world, their reasons for doing it are as varied as their looks.
Wiz: Take Alex DeLarge, a child of the streets. His reason is very simple – he loves it. Rape, battery, murder, it’s all good fun to Alex.
Boomstick: Or, take Bernardo, a Puerto Rican young man that ended up on the streets of New York, fighting a war against those who want him gone.
Wiz: I’m Wiz, and he’s Boomstick.
Boomstick: And it's our job to analyze their weapons and skills to find out who would win a Death Battle.
Alex Delarge[]
Wiz: Alexander “Alex” DeLarge has made a bit of a name for himself on the mean streets of...well, somewhere in England.
Boomstick: That’s right, with his system primed with drugs, Alex enjoys causing mayhem wherever he goes. Assault, rape, murder, it’s all a good time for Alex.
Wiz: While perhaps not formally trained in hand-to-hand combat, Alex has learned everything he needs to know for him and his fellow gang-members, his droogs, to face the other gangs that share the streets.
Boomstick: He carries a straight razor in his pocket, and a cane with a hidden blade in the handle. And when the spirit takes him, he does not mind challenging another gang to a fight.
Wiz: Like when Alex and his droogs chanced upon Billyboy and his gang in the middle of a rape. Alex and his three friends challenged the six members of the other gang to a battle.
Boomstick: The fight raged across the floor of an old dancehall, with knives and with sticks, with chairs and anything else that could be picked up, and with boots and fists when nothing else was handy.
Wiz: It was a nasty fight that left everybody bruised and bloody. But, when the fight was over, it was Alex and his droogs that were left standing.
Boomstick: That’s right, the word “fear” is not in Alex’s rather strange vocabulary, and there is no dirty trick that he will not sink to to get ahead.
Wiz: Alex never travels alone. Everywhere he goes, he makes sure that he is accompanied by his droogs – his partners in crime.
Boomstick: And while Alex is the brains of his gang, his droog Dim is definitely the brawn. Armed with a handy-dandy chain, Dim is always ready to break some heads, some bones, some glass, some...anything.
Wiz: And then there are the others, Georgie and Pete. They know that there’s more to life than what they are doing, but they are always willing to follow Alex for some fun.
Boomstick: Yeah, they may have no dress sense whatsoever, but they do like having a good time. Cross Alex at your own peril!
Bernardo (West Side Story)[]
Wiz: New York City has long been a destination for immigrants to the United States, and virtually every new group has found the atmosphere to be less than welcoming.
Boomstick: In 1826, Edward Coleman formed what was the first street gang of the United States, when he organized the “Forty Thieves.” Likely named after Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves, this gang was composed of Irish immigrants and Irish-Americans.
Wiz: It was the first of many ethnically-based gangs that were formed in the U.S. to fight for their rights, their place in the sun, or perhaps just for some money that they want to make theirs.
Boomstick: In 1917, the U.S. government enacted the Jones Act, which granted U.S. citizenship to everyone born in Puerto Rico. This brought a new group of immigrants to the United States, the Puerto Ricans, who also found that the welcome mat was definitely not laid out for them.
Wiz: In the 1950s waves of Puerto Ricans began looking for a living in New York City, and began to found their own communities. And, when they were greeted with hostility, they did as so many other communities had done before them, they began to form gangs.
Boomstick: One of those gangs was led by a young man by the name of Bernardo, and they called themselves, “the Sharks.” The Sharks fought for their right to live in New York against a nativist gang who called themselves, “the Jets.”
Wiz: The Sharks and the Jets would periodically have a fight, and these fights might include fists, knives and even guns.
Boomstick: Bernardo carried a switchblade on him, which is a folding knife where the blade can be opened at the press of a button. It’s usually the first knife given to children to play with. Wiz: Wait! What?
Boomstick: Momma Boomstick gave me my first switchblade when I was six years old. How old were you, Wiz, when you got your first knife?
Wiz: Um...My mother didn’t give me knives to play with when I was a child.
Boomstick: And that explains so much about you, Wiz. So much.
Wiz: And it speaks volumes about you. Anyway, when the Sharks and the Jets decided to have it out, Bernardo faced the Riff, the leader of the Jets, with knives. It was a solid fight, and eventually Riff was killed.
Boomstick: Yeah, when Bernardo played stabscotch, he knew what he was doing.
Wiz: Wait. What’s “stabscotch?”
Boomstick: You know, where you lay your hand out flat, and then stab your knife between your fingers as fast as you can, going back and forth? Wiz, didn’t you play any normal childhood games?
Wiz: As far as you are concerned? Probably not.
Boomstick: Poor, poor, Wiz.
Intermission[]
Wiz: The world-famous Hiney Winery was founder in 1979 by visionary Harry Hiney, and after his retirement, its tradition of excellence was carried on by his nephews, Big Red and Thor Hiney.
Boomstick: And now, the next generation is stepping forward to carry on the tradition.
Wiz: That’s right, now Seymour Hiney has formed a crack inspection team to see to it that no Hiney is sold before its time! Each Hiney is thoroughly examined to make sure that it lives up to the reputation for fine wines that Herculaneum, Missouri has earned.
Boomstick: Don’t forget the company logo, folks: “You only go around once in life, so grab all the Hiney you can get.”
Wiz: Alright the combatants are set; let’s end this debate once and for all.
Boomstick: It's time for a DEATH BATTLE!
DEATH BATTLE![]
Pre-Fight []
It was nighttime, and Bernardo sat on the bus stop bench, looking up the street. The lights of the various businesses twinkled and danced on the pavement that had been dampened by the earlier passing street sweeper.
Sitting next to him, his girlfriend, Anita, sighed loudly, and then turned an angry look on him.
“I might as well go home,” she complained. “You aren’t here with me, Bernardo, you are miles and miles away.”
He looked at her, and gave her a lopsided grin. “I am sorry, Anita, but I have so many things on my mind,” he told her.
“That makes a change,” she replied. “You normally only have one thing on your mind. Come on and kiss me.”
“No, no,” he said. “There’s a time and place for everything.”
“But, this is the time and the place. Don’t you love me anymore?” she asked.
He opened the top of his hipflask, took a quick sip. “You know how I feel for you, Anita, but there is so much going on. It was bad enough dealing with those Jets, and the other gangs of the city, but now there are those new ones, the Ingleses.”
Anita ran a finger down the collar of his jacket. “Are you going to kiss me or not?” she asked.
Bernardo looked at her, and gave her the smile that always melted her heart. “Of course I am.” He announced. And then, he did.
In a record store, not two blocks away, Alex Delarge strutted in through the door, dressed in his finest koshtoom[1], the clothes he wore to pick up girls.
He strolled the aisles of the store, checking out each girl that he passed. Suddenly, he spotted Maria, Bernardo’s sister. It was just too good of an opportunity to pass up.
He stepped up to the display, next to her, and pretended to look at the records. Finally, he turned and stared at her until she looked up at him.
“But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.”
Alex liked Shakespeare, and Romeo and Juliet always got results. Maria was staring at him with eyes wide in shock.
“It is my lady. Oh, it is my love. Oh, that she knew she were! She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that? Her eye discourses. I will answer it. What is your name fair lady?” he asked.
The girl looked down at her shoes, and stammered out, “Maria.”
“What a wonderful sounding name,” he said. She looked back up at him.
“That name will never be the same to me,” he said. “It’s the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.”
Weeks later, Bernardo opened the door and stepped into his parent’s apartment. He froze at the sight before him. There at the table were seated his parents, his sister, Maria, and one of the Ingleses, Alex.
The family looked at him in surprise, but Alex’s face blossomed into a sly, triumphant smile.
His father told him, “Come, Bernardo, and meet Maria’s new boyfriend.”
His mother added, “He’s an immigrant, like the rest of us.”
Bernardo’s world began to spin around him.
“Yes,” chimed in the smiling Alex. “Join us, brother. Let us all nosh[2] together.”
“I...I’m not feeling well,” he said. Then Bernardo turned, and walked up the hall to his bedroom.
Sitting in his room, Bernardo burned at the effrontery of that...man being in his apartment. He curled his hands into fists, and squeezed them until they hurt.
Pain. Yes, like the pain he would visit on that Alex.
Bernardo and his most trusted friends walked into the revolting milkbar, where Alex and his gang hung out. The place had opened not long after the Ingleses arrived, selling weird milk drinks. He could not understand how any real man could drink such muck.
His eyes peered around the bar, until he spotted Alex and his gang. They were against the back wall, behind a long, low table, dressed in their bizarre gang attire. They eyed Bernardo and his men as they walked up.
Alex’s face broke into a smile that seemed both charming and disingenuous at the same time.
“Greeting, brothers,” he said warmly. “Pray, sit yourselves, that we may have a real gobereet[3], all droogie[4] and civilized-like.”
Bernardo curled his lip back in disgust. “You not only look like a clown, but you talk like one as well,” he spat.
Alex just smiled, and took a sip of his milk drink. When he pulled it away from his lips, he said, “So, big brother, what brings you to our humble corner of the bolshy[5] city?”
Bernardo’s eyes blazed as he said, “I want you to stay away from my sister, you freak.”
Alex regarded him under the brim of his hat, and then he asked, “Are you here to protect the little kisa’s[6] honor? You’re a little late on that count, old fruit.”
Chino, who had long cared for Maria, snarled and reached for Alex. But moving surprisingly fast, Alex’s droog[7] Georgie surged from his seat, and grabbed Chino’s wrist. “Rookers[8] at your side, unless you want a bitva[9],” he snarled.
Bernardo looked off to the side. This bar had a security guard, and he was watching the youths intently.
“Chino!” he barked. Chino pulled against Georgie, who released his arm. Alex’s other men, Dim and Pete had stood up, while Alex sat sipping his milk and studying Bernardo intently. Bernardo extended his hands in a soothing motion, and the two sides resumed a relaxed stance.
"'Bitva,' a fight, no? A rumble?" he asked.
“Is this a challenge?” Alex asked.
“Yes,” Bernardo responded. “Me and you, winner takes all.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow after dark,”
“Where?”
“Under the highway.”
“Weapons?”
Bernardo shrugged, and said, “It is your choice.”
But, his look was anything but nonchalant. He stared at Alex with a sharp look in his eyes.
Alex lifted his cane, and then twirled it in his fingers, his eyes never leaving Bernardo’s.
“Personal weapons,” he replied.
“Guns?”
Alex gave a short laugh. “A pooshka? Do me a favor,” he spat.
Bernardo nodded and said, “Personal weapons, no guns.” Then, he extended his hand. Alex looked down at it, gave a lopsided smile, and then shook the proffered hand.
Everything looked calm and quiet beneath the elevated roadway, but the sounds of traffic seemed to fill the air. The ten-foot-tall fence that protected the area from trespassers served to keep out the garbage that the wind carried along.
Bernardo stepped up to the fence, and looked around. Seeing no one, he turned and whistled, and Sharks came running. They swarmed up and over the fence, and dropped into the newly designated arena.
A sound caused them to look up, and there they saw Alex and his droogs on an elevated part of the concrete.
Alex smiled and called out, “So, you had the yarbles[10] to come, did you, big brother? Let’s get it over with, I need to get back to some important lubbilubbing[11]. Can’t keep little sister waiting!”
Bernardo’s eyes narrowed, and he called back, “Come down, monkey, and I will wipe that smile off of your face!”
As the droogs leapt down, Bernardo took off his jacket, and handed it to his lieutenant, Pepe. Them he turned around, dropped to one knee, crossed himself and gave a quick prayer.
Alex smiled, and stepped into the center of the arena, twirling his cane as he advanced.
Bernardo leaped to his feet, lithe as a dancer, reached into his back pocket and drew out his knife. He flicked the blade out, simultaneously dropping into a fighting stance.
Alex held his cane with a hand at either end, and also crouched, ready for action.
The two opponents began to circle each other.
FIGHT! []
Bernardo feinted a thrust with his knife, pulled back, and then feinted again.
Alex swung his cane across with his right hand, brought it up, and then down towards his opponent’s head.
Bernardo danced back, and then resumed his ready position. He flipped his knife dexterously from his right hand to his left, then back again, and then back again. The knife flew back and forth, finally ending back in his right hand.
Alex turned himself sideways to the other man, drew himself up to his full height, and saluted with his cane, just as a fencer would.
He dropped into his stance, with the cane forward, and shouted, “en garde!”
He shoved his cane forward, shouting, “Thrust! Thrust!”
Bernardo shied away from the thrusting cane, moving sideways, and looking for an opening to use his shorter weapon.
Alex grinned at him, and said, “Come on, thou nappy-wearing grizzle. Tis time to take the dummy out, and be a real lyudnia[12].”
Bernardo snorted. “Still the clown, eh? Well, I’m about to wipe the smile off of your face.”
He feinted right, and when the cane thrust that way, he reversed, and leaped in to the left.
He grabbed Alex’s right wrist with his left, and slashed towards his abdomen with the knife.
Alex pulled backward, but the knife slashed through his shirt, and cut a red line across his stomach. He grabbed Bernardo’s knife wrist, so that each opponent held the other’s wrist, but in a crossover hold.
Alex dropped to the ground, dragging Bernardo over him, and then flipping him onto the pavement. The Sharks shouted and stepped forward, but Alex’s droogs drew their own weapons and also stepped forward. The two gangs eyed each other warily, and then stepped back. Both sides continued shouting encouragement to their respective champion.
Bernardo sprang lithely to his feet, but Alex had moved a bit faster. Bernardo looked up to see Alex coming at him boots first, having taken a running leap.
The impact sent Bernardo flying backward into the chain link fence. He rebounded, and landed face-down on the concrete. He barely had time to get his hands and knees beneath him, when suddenly Alex was on his back. He put the cane across his throat and pulled.
Bernardo realized that his hand was empty; he had lost his knife at some point! He grabbed the cane, and pulled, trying to keep from being strangled by the Inglés.
Holding onto his struggling opponent with all his might, Alex leaned forward, and said, “Now cracks a noble heart. Good night sweet prince and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest! As for me, I am off to the sweet Maria for a bit of the old in-and-out.”
Suddenly, Bernardo heaved forward, dragging Alex over him, into a flip that laid him out on the concrete.
Bernardo leaped on top of Alex and wrapped his hands around his throat. “Bastardo!” he screamed. “I will kill you now! Take your stupid words with you to Hell!”
Still clutching his cane in his right hand, Alex beat the cane on the ground until the handle came away, exposing the long blade hidden in the stick.
He brought the knife up, and shoved the blade under Bernardo’s ribcage and into his organs.
Shock filled Bernardo’s face, and then he slowly toppled over.
Alex’s droogs surged forward, attacking the stunned Sharks. A general melee ensued, while Alex stood up coughing.
Suddenly, a police siren filled the air. Both gangs looked up in surprise. Without a word spoken both groups ran to the surrounding fence, scaled the links, and ran off into the night.
As the siren drew close, Bernardo was left on his own, his life blood pooling on the concrete around him.
K.O.! []
Alex walked along the street, trying to look nonchalant, in spite of the cut and torn outfit he was wearing.
He would go and see Maria. His mind raced as he tried to figure a way that he could turn the situation to his advantage and finally put a dent in Maria’s cast iron virtue.
At the same time, Chino, the keeper of the Shark’s armory, drew a gun from a box in an abandoned warehouse. He would make that Inglés pay for what he had done!
Results[]
Boomstick: Well...that’s another where the best man did not win.
Wiz: No. In point of fact, Alex had most of the advantages in this fight.
Boomstick: Right! Bernardo was very quick on his feet, and moved like a dancer. But Alex showed much more fighting ability.
Wiz: When fighting with Billyboy and his gang, Alex demonstrated a lot more fighting ability. He used his arms and legs better, and was adept at using things lying around as improvised weapons.
Boomstick: And then there was the ace that Alex kept up his sleeve, his surprise swordcane.
Wiz: As the Bard said, “Men were deceivers ever.”
Boomstick: And, as the bored said, "Whatever." The winner is the man in the silly outfit, Alex Delarge!
Poll[]