The Dump (11)
The figure strides closer to the lights, and it’s clear the dude is dressed in only a hot pink thong (matching the one Fister wore in the fight), black wrestler’s boots, and knee and elbow pads. A cast on one arm rises halfway to the elbow. He’s big. His face looks like it’s welcomed a few punches in its day. The hair is dark, the pale but beefy skin glistening with oil. The crowd begins to murmur—some faces gasp in recognition.
The figure grabs up a metal folding chair and holds it over his head. Vim squirms in his seat as the guy struts towards the ring.
You have to be shittin me, Vim mutters under his breath; It’s fuckin Doug Lucas!
Lucas’s lips curl wickedly as he hurls the chair up to the ring, smashing the back of Lynch’s unsuspecting head.
“Hey, champ,” Doug roars, “don’t forget your trophy!”
Lynch’s legs crumple, and the shining handsome victor collapses on the mat. Lucas grabs the bottom ring rope to heft himself up on the mat. He’s not through the ropes before Vim is charging towards the ring, ripping his $700 shirt off on the way.
Lynch’s body is pulled from the ring leaving a bloody smear across the canvas. Doug stands mid-ring, holding the metal chair in one hand as he watches Vim circle the ring.
“You want a piece of me? Come get some!” Doug taunts Joey as he paces around the ring.
Vim climbs up on the ring apron, shirtless; in jeans and boots he stands threatening Lucas. The crowd can barely hear the exchange between the two enemies, but they sense the tension and dislike between these two men. The air is electric; the whole room buzzes as if about to explode. As Vim begins to go through the ropes, he is tackled by a security team. Vim and Lucas are pulled to opposite corners as they struggle to get at each other.
“I understand you each have a score to settle … Doug, your wrist was broken by Greg. And Joey, your friend was attacked from behind.” The crowd roars as they kick and claw at the air trying to land a blow. “If you too want to fight, then by all means … How about a cage fight, folks?”
The crowd goes wild at the announcement of Vim fighting Lucas in the cage. Vim settles down, knowing he will have to change into fighting gear. Vim heads into the locker room as the cage is prepared for them.
Minutes later Vim emerges from the back room dressed only in a navy thong. He heads for the cage to see Doug Lucas awaiting him. Doug has stripped off his boots and pads; he stands mid-mat, wearing his gaudy pink thong. Vim notices the plaster cast on Doug’s right hand and wrist. Vim steps up into the cage, motioning Lucas to back up, allowing his entry.
(To be continued)