Jay sped down the two-lane highway, mashing a piece of straw between his teeth, his pulse quick with anticipation. The windows were rolled down in the older model Chevy pick-up, battered outside with dents and scratches, it was blazing hot and the truck had no AC. Neither one of the occupants cared about the heat. Next to Jay on the torn tattered bench seat was the young Chris. Jay cruised Chris at the gym, Jay was searching for something incredibly special in Chris, and within the first 5 minutes of speaking to young Chris, Jay knew he found it.

Jay was very muscular, beefy, a few inches shorter than Chris, but outweighed Chris easily by 80 pounds who was way less developed but looked down at Jay from about 6 feet. Chris was naïve, 18, Jay 32, but told Chris he was 27 to help gain his confidence. Over the previous few weeks Jay and Chris lifted at the gym together, talked about their mutual love for wrestling before Jay started to tell Chris he would make a great wrestler, young, good looking, the perfect good-guy character. Chris was like putty in Jay’s hand. It did not take much convincing to entice the young man into getting into the ring for a once in a lifetime opportunity. He went on to say it was an opportunity he would have taken, if it had not been for his bad knee he got the first time he got in the ring.

“Yo, you are ready for this, Bro.” Jay said as he watched Chris tie his boot lace into a knot.

Chris nodded his head yes in agreement, he started on the other black long patten leather boot, he laced up, once finished he clapped his hands in a show of enthusiasm and to pump himself up. His boots laced up a couple inches below the knee, his legs untanned, lean but still impressive, he wore black wrestling trunks and a black tank top with small insignia of chain links on it, he had a bit of a baby face, probably could not grow a full beard even if he wanted.

“So, it will just be you, me and him, right?” Chris asked.

“Well, no its going to be him and also his “promoter” and I think they booked an actual referee, this is the real deal. Big time break here. Do not forget we have to set a scene, so to get that authentic machismo wrestling attitude myself and his manager will be cheering you guys on, talking shit to one another. I want to see you crush that guy; don’t worry I will be right there.” Jay said to his passenger.

Chris was excited to show off, to do some wrestling, get paid to do what he wanted to do most in life. Wrestle and perform to hear the roar of the crowd.

They turned off the highway. In a few minutes, they approached a rundown warehouse looking building, it looked deserted.

Jay pulled up to the building parking only a few feet away. He looked around to see if anyone else was approaching, he did not see anyone. He checked his cell that he pulled from his pocket. After pretending to read a text, he nodded his head before he started to tell Chris of a change for the match.

“Ugh I just got a text, it is going to be a different guy, this guy’s name is Gage I think, he is a little bigger, but you know what, you two will look very good and the contrast will be evident, I think you will enjoy it. I know that I absolutely will. So, once we go in, march over to the ring, rip your tank top off, look tough, puffed up chest, this is your debut, your moment, show this fucker who the fucking boss is. I will be right behind you. Now let’s do this!” Jay gave Chris a stiff punch on the bicep with a burst of enthusiasm.

They both exited the vehicle, walked over to a grey metal door. Jay open the door for Chris, the door opening with a loud creak. Chris slapped himself a couple times in the face to get himself more pumped up. He entered the doorway; doing his best pro wrestler impression, strutting chest out like his mentor advised him. Chris tore the tank top off and threw it off to the side, he flexed and moved towards the center of the room, a single light shined over a single wrestling ring complete with the red ropes around and padded turnbuckles. he heard the door slam shut behind him, then heard what sounded like a loud metal clank all around him.

Chris eagerly jumped into the empty ring, raised his arm in an attempt to look big marching around the ring. It was at this point he realized he could not see much further than beyond the ring itself, just darkness. A man, an older gentleman, average height but thick and muscular, wearing a tight black and white striped referee shirt, tight black pants to match, he stepped out of the darkness into the ring and loudly began to announce Chris.

With a boom in his voice he proceeded to introduce the wrestlers, “In this corner we have making his wrestling debut; already in the ring standing 6 feet tall, and weighing in at 185 pounds Chris the Killer Kid,” speaking into a microphone like at a pro match. Chris chuckled to himself as to how corny it was, he never called himself Killer. Chris turned towards his corner of the ring in nervous anticipation of his opponent.

The referee continued “And now coming to the ring, standing 6 feet, two hundred and sixty-eight pounds of towering muscle, full of rage he is Gage!” said with more enthusiasm and with more excitement than Chris’s introduction.

Chris spun around to face the opposite corner of the ring still empty, not sure if what he had just heard was right, Chris assumed that he really said one hundred sixty-eight pounds, should be easy pickings for the self-appointed novice he thought.

The light over the ring went out suddenly, in the far corner the sound of a slight commotion, then a blast of pyrotechnics.