One Fall

CHAPTER 23

  The drive from Denver to Las Vegas was six hours. The road was a gentle downward slope the entire stretch. The trees, grass, and hills of Colorado gave way to the sand, cactus, and space of Nevada. Every mile was lower and hotter than the last one. By three o’ clock, the sun had become a booger in Joey’s eyes, stuck at the end of the highway, a fiery ball of hell that awaited at the bottom of the road.

  Over the six hours, Joey and Jade talked about their years in high school, their political opinions (Joey thought he was a liberal until Jade convinced him he was more a libertarian), their hopes for the future, and even a little about where their relationship might be headed. The more they talked, the more Joey seethed. His match in Vegas was with Jumbo. How could he quietly do a job in the ring with the man who tried to rape his girlfriend? How could he even be in the same room with such a man without trying to kill him?

  He had to bury those thoughts. He had agreed to behave. The first time the topic came up, Jade asked him to do the job, lay low, and pretend he knew nothing of her incident with Jumbo. She pointed out that nothing good could come from making a scene. He was still a professional, she said, in spite of all that had happened, and a professional did the job when he was asked to, even if the job was shitty.

  She reminded him how wonderful things could be at this time next year, when he was free from his GWA contract, and wrestling for Revolution. She pointed out that Revolution might not be interested in him if he developed a reputation as a troublemaker.

  So Joey agreed to do the job that night, exactly as he was told. He agreed to say nothing to Jumbo or anyone else about what he now knew. He agreed to keep his mouth shut and his fists open if the urge to defend his woman’s honor overcame him. He agreed to all of this because his woman had asked him to.

  But he wasn’t happy about it.

  They arrived at the Grand Garden Arena in Las Vegas at five Mountain time. Joey had never wrestled in an arena as elegant as the Grand Garden. His first view of the inside was from the parking garage, where the pillars were made of red brick, the ground floor of shiny cobblestones, and valet parking for performers was free. Luckily, Jade knew how much to tip. At the performers’ entrance a red carpet began, which led them to the backstage corridors, all of which were carpeted and adorned with potted ferns and trees.

  Catering was in a ballroom, rather than the usual section of the loading dock. Joey and Jade picked at the fresh fruit from the buffet table, then went to their separate locker rooms.

  The men’s locker room was spacious and cool. A shiny oak bench ran a circle in front of the lockers, which stood above a carpeted floor. Being early, Joey had the room to himself, and leisurely changed into his wrestling attire, then sat on the floor to stretch.

  Twenty minutes later, the locker room had filled with wrestlers who had plenty to say to each other but nothing to Joey, so he left, and began meandering through the halls, hoping to run into Jade, and trying to look purposeful to anyone who saw him. The corridors were less like those of a locker room area and more like those of an office, with doors and windows into meeting rooms lining the walls.

  It was from behind one of these doors that Duke appeared, and asked Joey to join him. On the other side of the door was a small meeting room, with a circular table and four chairs. Jumbo sat against the far wall, dwarfing the furniture and giving the room an Alice-In-Wonderland feel.

  On Duke’s invitation, Joey sat down, without a greeting or even an acknowledgment of Jumbo’s presence. He had only promised to keep what he knew to himself; he hadn’t promised to be civil to Jade’s assailant.

  “I wanted to talk to you both about your program on TV tomorrow. Tonight’s match is meant to be a warm-up for you both,” said Duke.

  He knew. Joey could tell. Duke’s smug tone of voice gave him away. Duke knew that Jade had confided in Joey. Duke knew he had scheduled a match between a rapist and a protective boyfriend. What kind of sick freak was Joey working for?

  The match was to be a squash, Duke explained. Joey would get in no offense at all. “That is, until the ref bump,” said Duke. “Try whatever works for the ref bump,” he continued. “Tonight’s match is to prepare you for tomorrow on television. I want you guys to feel free to be creative out there so we can come up with something good for TV. I’ll tell Rodney to work with you.”

  Rodney Mustaine would be the referee tonight and tomorrow. Rodney was the ultimate company man, and was unpopular with the wrestlers, as he was downright pushy. When wrestling matches go awry, as they often do, it is the job of the referee, who is connected to Duke via headpiece, to work things out. A good referee will ask questions, give advice, and relay information backstage, but will leave the actual improvisation to the wrestlers. Rodney wasn’t like that. Rodney would get information from backstage and immediately start barking out commands. He was used when Duke didn’t trust the wrestlers to carry themselves through the match.

  “After the ref bump,” Duke said, “Joey gets in a low blow, maybe two low blows. Let’s try that Joey. Two, no, three, low blows. Jumbo will fall after the third. That will be great. Then Joey, you go get a weapon, bring it in, and hammer the snot out of Jumbo.”

  Joey nodded. This was the strangest booking he’d ever heard. Joey, the most over face in the company, would be acting the part of the heel. The crowd would probably cheer anyway. Jumbo looked mildly confused. Dumb bastard, Joey thought. He hadn’t put it together that Joey was being de-pushed, starting tonight, and step one was getting Jumbo all the heat back that he’d lost two weeks ago.

  “When you’re done with your weapon Joey, throw it out of the ring and cover Jumbo. Rodney will wake up and do a slow count. Jumbo, you’ll kick out at two. Joey, you’ll be amazed that he kicked out, and you’ll take a second to vent your frustration around the ring, stomping your feet, you know, whatever. Then you’ll pick up Jumbo and swing him to the ropes. Jumbo, you’ll hit him with a mammoth shoulder block. Now this is important. Joey, you’ve swung him to the ropes, planning on a clothesline or a kick, but you immediately see that it’s not going to work. Show some fear before you take that shoulder block, then bump the hell out of it. I want you to smack against the mat like a pancake. After he splats down, Jumbo, you’ll cover him for three and the win. And that’s it guys. Any questions?”

  Jumbo probably had a slew of questions, but wisely withheld them. He was going to come out of this match looking like gold. Joey couldn’t imagine a more one-sided squash than this one. The booking was so malicious that the crowd would see right through it. Joey gets squashed, then resorts to cheating and still can’t get the upper hand, finally to be pinned after a shoulder block, of all moves. What kind of match ends with a shoulder block? When they performed this match on TV tomorrow night, the whole world would know that Joey Mayhem was in the doghouse with Duke.

  They opened the show. Normally, a match of this magnitude would be the main event, but Duke knew this crowd wouldn’t tolerate a squash as the last match of the night. Joey came out first. The crowd, hot for the opener, gave Joey the loudest pop he’d ever heard. Joey entered the ring and stood against the closest ringpost on the second rope, giving a section of the crowd the chance to cheer for him. He took his time, thinking that the sound director would let him showboat for the fans for as long as they could keep this ovation going. He was wrong. Jumbo’s music started before he’d even stepped down from the first corner.

  “Duke wants you guys to get some action started right away,” Rodney said to Joey as they watched Jumbo approach the ring.

  “Okay,” said Joey, and as soon as Jumbo was through the ropes, Joey was up in his face in a lockup.

  “Throw me down,” said Joey.

  Jumbo pushed and Joey fell back, hitting the ground and doing a backwards somersault across the ring. He jumped up and ran right back at Jumbo.

  “Throw me down again,” said Joey.

  “I’m calling
this match kid,” said Jumbo. “To the corner.”

  Joey considered rebelling. It was bad form for someone to disagree with the spot you called. But, it was also bad form for Joey to call the spot in the first place. The GWA convention was for whomever was on offense (usually the heel in the early going) to call the match. Since this was a squash, Jumbo would be calling the whole thing.

  Joey did as he was told and allowed Jumbo to push him into the nearest corner. Jumbo then threw punches at Joey’s gut and face. Joey curled up in his wimpiest pose until Rodney stepped between them. Joey stumbled out of the corner, hamming up the damage done as he prepared for the next spot.

  Jumbo grabbed Joey by the hair, then pulled him into a side headlock. From there, he lifted Joey into a vertical suplex, holding him aloft for five seconds. The standing vertical suplex, a wrestling classic, was one of Jumbo’s signature moves. He showed off his strength by holding his opponent upside down for several seconds before falling backwards. Although difficult, the move was part of every wrestler’s repertoire, and was taught to first-year wrestling students across the country.

  The move was so commonplace that Joey was surprised that Jumbo was ignoring one of it’s most fundamental mechanics. Jumbo needed to hold onto Joey’s tights to support him in the stationary headstand. He wasn’t. Consequently, Joey had to use all his abdominal strength and balance to remain upright. Jumbo further complicated the move by turning his body while holding Joey upside down. Joey had never felt so vulnerable. Jumbo was breaking the cardinal rule in professional wrestling: protect your opponent. Unable to communicate verbally, Joey slapped the back of Jumbo’s thigh, hoping to let him know that it was time to end this move if it wasn’t going to be done properly. The slap must have caught Jumbo off-guard, because his whole leg buckled in surprise, and the house of cards that was Joey and Jumbo came tumbling down in a sloppy heap. Joey landed on the back of his neck. His body folded at his upper abdomen and then fell to the side. Brimming with pain and dizziness, he moved his fingers and then his legs to make sure he wasn’t paralyzed. The crowd booed at the obvious mistake, then broke into the obligatory, “YOU FUCKED UP!” chant.

  Both men on the floor, Jumbo rolled over to whisper something to Joey. It was hard to hear over the crowd, but it sounded like Jumbo said, “What the fuck?”

  What the fuck? Joey wanted to jump up, get in Jumbo’s face, and throw down right here, right now. The sharp pain in his upper back eased that idea, and instead he stretched out on the floor and tried to get his bearings.

  “One...two...” Rodney was giving a slow count. Both men were down, and had until ten to get up. Jumbo got up first and was greeted by a plastic cup of beer that soared into the ring and splashed across his face. The crowd cheered for whatever rebel from the front row had successfully lobbed the missile.

  “Jesus Christ,” Joey heard Jumbo say. Jumbo picked Joey up by the hair and threw him into a chinlock. “God help the little shit who screws up a spot with me,” Jumbo said, then tightened the chinlock to very real proportions. With the last breath he could squeeze in, Joey smelled sweat and beer. He could think of only one thing to do. A vintage wrestling spot, time-tested and approved for years as a way out of a straight chinlock. The mule kick.

  The mule kick was a staple of wrestling villains for generations. When the ref wasn’t looking, the villain would kick backwards and nail his opponent in the groin. Wrestling fans were so accustomed to the mule kick that even it’s obvious forgery (the foot always missed the actually groin by six inches at least) meant little. Perhaps that’s why the crowd gasped, then cheered hysterically, when Joey’s heel hit Jumbo’s privates as square as a carpenter’s hammer on a doornail.

  Jumbo broke the chinlock immediately, then fell back to the floor, groaning. The crowd was now in a frenzy of joy at Joey’s mischief. Rodney signaled for the bell, ending the match, then grabbed Joey by the arm.

  “Get backstage immediately,” he said.

  Joey looked at him as if to say, ‘Who the hell are you to tell me what to do?’

  “Duke’s in my ear right now Joey. Don’t wait for your music or the announcement, get backstage now.”

  Confused, Joey stepped through the ropes and hopped down from the ring.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Melissa Marcus, the ring announcer, began, “the referee has ruled that tonight’s winner, as a result of a disqualification, is Jumbo Sanders!”

  The crowd jeered at Melissa’s announcement. Not only did the good guy lose, but the match sucked.

  As Joey headed up the ramp, individual fans broke from the chorus of boos to give him goodwill.

  “Kick him in the balls Joey! Yeah!”

  “You rock Joey!”

  When Joey reached the top of the ramp, Jumbo’s music started playing, further incensing the crowd. Joey looked at the black curtain, and wondered what would happen on the other side. Would he be fired? Suspended? He imagined himself explaining to Duke how Jumbo botched a suplex, blamed Joey for it, then tried to choke his lights out. The groin kick was totally justified. Would anybody care? Did he care? Maybe getting fired or suspended wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

  The first person to greet him on the other side of the curtain was Martha Tanner, the stage manager.

  “Real classy Joey,” she said with disdain as she handed him a bottle of water.

  Deep Six, Lord Mayberry, Raptor, and Gordy Goodnow were standing off to the side. They seemed mostly uninterested in Joey’s appearance.

  “What happened out there?” said Deep Six. “Was that match supposed to be a DQ?”

  At the non-televised events, the wrestlers backstage could hear what was happening, but couldn’t see it unless they went to the curtain and watched. These guys heard the ring announcer call the match a disqualification, but had no idea what had just happened.

  “Long story,” said Joey, and continued walking. He was looking for Jade. He found Duke.

  “What the hell is going on?” Duke yelled as he came running at Joey. At house shows, if Duke attended at all, he watched the matches from the press box. Joey looked with disgust at the little man, who was winded from running down a flight of stairs.

  “I’ll tell you what’s going on,” said Joey. “Jumbo got careless on that vertical suplex and dropped me on my head. Then he went nuts and choked me out. That’s why he got kicked.”

  “In this company, we have ways of dealing with wrestling mistakes, Joey. Why didn’t you get Rodney involved? All you had to do was let Rodney know that Jumbo was out of hand and he would have taken charge. Instead, you fucking ruined my opener and now we’ve got to put on eleven matches to a crowd that’s already sour to us.”

  “They were going to be sour anyway with the shit you’d booked for me tonight,” said Joey. He could see that a crowd of spectators had formed around him and Duke. This display probably didn’t look good for him a week after he knocked out the champ.

  “Why, you little punk,” said Duke, anger boiling up from under his tight Armani collar. “In case you didn’t know, people don’t question my booking decisions here. I’ve been a promoter for 30 years. I was booking million dollar matches ten years before you were born you little shit. It was my booking that made you popular with the fans, but I can see it’s gone to your head.”

  “What are you going to do, end my push? It’s a little late for that.”

  The tension in Duke’s face was almost comical. It reminded Joey of Yosemite Sam. “You impetuous snot,” he said quietly, almost in a whisper. “You overbearing brat. You think you can talk to me like this--”

  “Clear the way! I’m gonna kill that fucker!” It was Jumbo, having just come through the curtain. He was practically running at Joey and Duke.

  “Stop him!” Duke yelled at the crowd of wrestlers who had gathered to watch the drama.

  Deep Six and Lord Mayberry ran up to Jumbo and tried to talk him down. Jumbo pushed them a
side. Raptor, Gordy Goodnow, and Mike Clarke ran to help, Raptor and Gordy each grabbing an arm, Mike pushing on Jumbo from the front. Deep Six and Lord Mayberry recovered to help them. The five of them slowed Jumbo to a stop in time for Duke to address everyone.

  “So help me,” Duke yelled, “if either of the two of you lay a finger on the other tonight you’re fired. On the spot, no questions asked, just fired. You two will stay away from each other for the rest of the night and you’ll cool off and you will wrestle again tomorrow night. I don’t pay petty little babies to get in personal feuds that disrupt my programming, and I will have my main even tomorrow night on TV! Tomorrow night you will wrestle the match you were supposed to wrestle tonight, you will get right, you will not break character or work off script, you will not work each other stiff, and if either of you fuck up or disobey me I’ll fire your ass and make sure you never work in this industry again and if you don’t think I can do that then try me! Jumbo, is that clear? I said, is that clear!”

  Jumbo slung a look of fire at Joey, then answered Duke. “Yes sir, it’s clear.”

  “Joey?” said Duke.

  Was it clear? Did he care? Joey considered saying Fuck You. If he was done with professional wrestling, so be it. It would be worth it just to say Fuck You to Duke right now.

  But among the crowd who had gathered, standing next to no one, with genuine sadness in her eyes, was Jade. This wasn’t her fault at all, but she probably thought it was. He’d have to explain to her that tonight’s melee with Jumbo wasn’t her doing. He needed to get this situation under control.

  “It’s clear,” said Joey.

  “Good. I’ll see you both tomorrow night,” said Duke. He took a second to give one more glare to Joey, then turned around to go back to the press box. Joey remained where he was as the crowd began to disperse. Jumbo scowled at Joey as he walked past, going toward the locker room. Joey stood still, and returned Jumbo’s gaze.

  After Jumbo had passed, Jade came forward and handed Joey his T-shirt and shorts, then put her arm across his back.

  “Are you doing okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” He wanted to ask her how she was, but decided it was best not to imply that she was somehow involved in this incident. “Your match is coming up soon,” he said with forced composure.

  “Yes. I’ll need to check in with Martha in just a minute. Hey, do you know about the viewing area here?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Come with me. I think this will be a fine place for you to be while we wait for this night to end.”

  Jade led Joey out of the foyer and down an unlit corridor. They passed a trophy case, an equipment room, and a conference room. All were dark and deserted.

  “The Grand Garden is my favorite arena,” she said. “There are all sorts of surprises back here.”

  Jade grabbed his hand as she continued to lead him through empty, unlit hallways. Realizing they were going someplace where he apparently could wait out the night in peace, Joey wondered if he would be able to find his way back.

  They came to a door marked, “Authorized Personnel Only.” Jade opened it, leading them into a narrow hallway with concrete floors and white brick walls. To their right was Stephen Shepney, a rookie who wrestled as Stevie Sikes. Stevie was standing at a door at the end of the hallway, looking out a narrow window, where he had a clear view into the arena, all the way to the ring.

  “Mind some company Stephen?” said Jade.

  “No, no. Come in,” he said, as if this dark hallway were his home.

  “I’ll see you later Honey,” said Jade, “I’m going to go get ready for my match.”

  “Alright, I’ll meet up with you backstage,” said Joey. Jade kissed him and then left. Joey nodded his head at Stephen and came into the hallway. He was glad that it was only Stephen here, or else he’d have to find another place to hang out. Stephen, a rookie with a great physique but only a modicum of talent, was one of the few people who never showed any animosity towards Joey. Stephen got into the GWA through family connections. His father, Martin Shepney, was a World Champion in the early seventies who wrestled as Barbarian Bill Strong. Stephen was well-liked in the locker room, but even he knew that he wasn’t going anywhere, and was only on the roster because Duke owed his dad a favor.

  “That was an interesting match you had out there Joey,” said Stephen.

  “Not nearly as interesting as the aftermath backstage,” said Joey.

  “Oh yeah? What happened?”

  “Oh, Duke was unhappy with how things went, as I’m sure you can imagine. He got into my face a little, then Jumbo came tearing in and wanted to beat the shit out of me. I’m sure you’ll hear about it.”

  “I’m sure I will,” said Stephen. “Do you mind if I ask--”

  “What happened out there? I’d love to tell you. At least I can tell someone, before Jumbo’s version becomes the historical record. Jumbo botched that vertical suplex--”

  “I saw that. Why was he holding you with only one arm?”

  “I have no idea, but he dropped me. Then his next move was a choke. I don’t get that guy. He drops me, then he gets all pissed off, like it was my fault.”

  Stephen shook his head, “Sucks, man.”

  Beyond the window, in the arena, Safire was introduced to a minor fan reaction.

  “It does suck,” said Joey. “Now I’m supposed to wrestle Jumbo again tomorrow night on TV. We’re supposed to keep our cool. I swear, if that asshole screws up even once, I’m all over him.”

  In the arena, Jade came out next. The fans roared. Despite all the company had done to hold her back, she was still the most over with the fans of any woman on the roster.

  “I don’t understand why the Women’s Title isn’t hers,” said Stephen.

  “There’s a lot of history and shit behind the scenes,” said Joey.

  “Really? What sort of history?”

  Joey wished he hadn’t said anything. Stephen’s voice had an eagerness to hear some gossip. Although Joey trusted Stephen more than most people in the company, he didn’t trust him to keep Jade’s secret.

  “I don’t know everything, and what I do know I shouldn’t say. Let’s just say that in the past few weeks I’ve learned that political skill is more important than wrestling skill in this company.”

  “See, I don’t think so,” said Stephen. “I think politics and who you know can get your foot in the door, but it’s what you know that will get you up to the top.”

  Jade and Safire were wrestling a solid match. Jade was working on Safire’s left leg, first with a chop block, then a series of elbow drops. Now she was trying to work Safire into a figure four leglock.

  “Well, you keep thinking that,” said Joey. “I don’t want to burst your bubble. I look at this match going on here, and see one woman who has mastered her craft, putting on a great show and carrying her opponent, and I see another one who has a pretty face and a willingness to kiss ass but doesn’t know what she’s doing. Take a guess which one will get more camera time tomorrow night.”

  “I don’t think that’s a respectable thing to say about Safire,” said Stephen. “She’s very competent as a wrestler and isn’t a kiss-ass.”

  Joey shrugged. He needed not to get into this argument with one of the few people willing to talk to him.

  “Joey, here’s some advice,” said Stephen. “I can tell that your push is over. Everyone can. I can also tell you that you’re wrong about whatever politicking you think is behind it. You knocked out the champion. It wouldn’t be right for you to take his place.”

  Another ally down, thought Joey.

  “Well, I disagree, but you’re certainly entitled to think whatever you’d like,” he said.

  The two of them stood in silence for the remainder of Jade’s match, both looking through the small window in the door. The match finished with Safire pinning Jade after landing an elbow off t
he top rope. Without a word to Stephen, Joey left the viewing room and found himself in a maze of unlit hallways. It took several tries and nearly ten minutes to find the path to the backstage area.

  “There you are,” said Jade. “Are you ready?” She was still in wrestling attire, unshowered, with her gym bag hanging over her shoulder. Joey caught a strong odor when he got near her, and smiled to himself. His girlfriend, an international sex symbol, stunk.

  “Yes, I’m ready,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  On the way to the car, Joey complimented Jade on her match. He talked with her about what he saw as the storyline they were creating and how he thought it worked. Jade was pleased with his assessment. She noted that the match would have worked even better if Safire had sold more of her offense.

  Joey took the driver’s side in Jade’s Expedition to take them on the short jaunt from the parking garage at the Grand Garden to their hotel room at the MGM. They were 40 seconds into their journey when Jade said what Joey had been thinking.

  “Does something stink?” she said. “I’ve been smelling it since the parking lot.”

  Joey didn’t want to tell her he’d assumed it was her, given that she had just wrestled a twelve-minute match. “I don’t know if I smell anything,” he lied.

  Jade lifted her arms and smelled underneath. “It’s not me,” she said, surprising Joey. How could it not be her? Was it him? As if reading his mind, Jade leaned over and stuck her nose under his shoulder. “It’s not you either,” she said. She took a few more deep breaths through her nose. “You can’t smell that?”

  Joey breathed deeply. He definitely could smell something.

  “Maybe there’s an animal carcass on the road,” he said, but knew that couldn’t be it, because he’d first noticed the smell back at the arena. It was a light but encompassing odor. It reminded Joey of his grandparents house. It almost smelled like someone was cooking lima beans.

  “I think it’s something in the car,” said Jade.

  Jade had unbuckled her seatbelt and was now rummaging through the backseat, sniffing things.

  “It’s my,” she sniffed twice more, “what the?” Jade pulled her gym bag to the front seat. “It’s my bag,” she said in disbelief. Her tone was one of fear, as if a whole world of manners had fallen apart. She was visibly embarrassed that her bag smelled so foul.

  Jade unzipped the leather bag and the stench exploded inside the car. It was unmistakable now. It was the smell of piss.

  “Holy shit,” Jade said quietly, then pushed the bag and the blinding smell away from her face.

  “What’s going on?” said Joey.

  “Stop the car,” she said.

  They were in the left lane on Grand Avenue, a three-lane busy street. Joey drifted two lanes to the right and pulled into a McDonald’s parking lot.

  “There’s a dumpster over there,” said Jade, pointing.

  Joey drove around the near side of the restaurant, and to the dumpster at the back of the parking lot. Jade had the door open before the car was fully stopped, triggering the dome light inside the cab. In the light, Joey could see that Jade was crying.

  Jade tore out of the car, lofted her bag into the dumpster, then, with surprising violence, kicked the dumpster’s front face.

  Joey put the car in park and undid his seatbelt. He was preparing to go out and hug her, but she stopped him.

  “No, no,” she said. “I’m done.” She got back in the car and slammed the door. “Pull up to the restaurant. I want to go wash my hands.”

  Joey said nothing and did what she asked. As soon as he stopped the car at the entrance, she hopped out and ran inside. Joey was a few seconds behind her, taking time to put on the brake and turn off the engine. Jade’s despondency and the shock of the smell had left Joey unable to think, but as he followed her into the restaurant, he realized his initial instinct about what had happened was the only possible explanation. After his match with Joey and the backstage confrontation with Duke, Jumbo had pissed in Jade’s gym bag.

  Joey entered the McDonald’s and was greeted like the President. The entire restaurant was looking at him. The sounds of cooking machinery beeped and hummed, but not a word was spoken. No doubt Jade, still in her black leather wrestling attire, had garnered some looks as she stormed in and ran to the bathroom. Now Joey, a bona fide celebrity, had entered right behind her, wearing a T-shirt, shorts, and his wrestling boots.

  Nothing conscious prompted what Joey did next. His consciousness was only a spectator, like these parasites at McDonald’s who wanted a piece of him to make themselves and their worthless lives more complete, whose chronic desire to be larger than what they were had created the high-stakes, high-money world where simple human decency was a worthless microbe in a tidal wave of ambition that turned a man into an animal who pissed to mark his territory.

  “What! What are you looking at?” Joey shouted at the restaurant. “Can’t a man walk into a McDonald’s? Can’t you for once just give me some mother fucking privacy?”

  “Joey, let’s go.” It was Jade. Somehow she had appeared at his side without his noticing, and was now pulling on his arm with wet hands as he gazed at a terrified old lady at the ketchup dispenser who certainly had no idea who he was.

  “Fuck,” said Joey, then followed Jade out the door.

  “Give me the keys, I’ll drive,” she said, heading toward the driver’s side.

  “I’ll drive,” Joey retorted.

  Jade stopped walking and looked back at Joey. Her face was filled with anguish and exhaustion. What was happening? Joey felt so out of control he wanted to march back into McDonald’s and hit someone.

  “Okay,” she said, and walked around to the passenger side.

  Joey drove them out of the parking lot and turned left onto the street.

  “Where are you going?” asked Jade.

  “Back to the arena,” said Joey.

  “Joey, what’s going on? What was all that about in there?” she said. “I was washing my hands and then I heard you screaming. It scared the hell out of me.”

  “It was about me completely losing my cool. It was just...shit!” Joey slapped the steering wheel in frustration that he had missed a traffic light and now would have to wait. It occurred to him that he had never been this angry before.

  “Joey, what’s the matter? Why are we going back to the arena?” Jade was practically yelling, as if trying to control the situation with her voice.

  “We’re going back to the arena so I can find Jumbo and kick his ass. I’m sure he’s still there, hanging around with his buddies, making plans to find some groupies tonight. When I’m done with him the only bag he’ll piss into will be on the other end of a catheter.”

  “Joey that isn’t funny. You don’t need to do this. You don’t need to protect my honor or any other macho shit. If you confront Jumbo you’ll be fighting Deep Six and Lord Mayberry too, and there won’t be anyone to back you up except me. And he outweighs you by a hundred pounds.”

  “He’s a fat fuck and he won’t touch me. Even if he does I don’t care. I’m not leaving Las Vegas until I find him and this is done.”

  The stoplight changed and Joey ripped out of the intersection.

  “Joey, think about what you’re doing. This sort of shit happens in this business. I can deal with it. But I can’t deal with you fighting with half the locker room. Please don’t do this.”

  Joey wanted to yell at her to shut up, that this was happening and she wasn’t going to stop him. But instead he said nothing and kept driving.

  “Joey? Joey, are you listening to me?” Jade fell back into her chair. “Shit,” she said under her breath.

  Twenty seconds later they were in the parking garage. Joey threw the car in park, and hopped out.

  “Welcome back, sir,” said the valet. Joey ignored him, storming out of the car and into the arena. Jade followed him through the glass
doors that led to the backstage area.