“I’ve made a huge mistake.”

Seth wandered into the bedroom and his eyes fell on the pictures. He started laughing.

“This is going to give me endless ammunition. Barnes definitely rocks that sombrero, eh?”

Jalie’s face went bright red. She picked up a glass of water from beside the bed and pitched it at Seth. He ducked and the glass went sailing over the railing of the loft area. There was a sudden yelp, crash, and a thud. Seth peered over the banister.

“Nick’s down!” he shouted. He turned and rushed down the stairs. Jalie heaved a sigh and dropped backwards on the bed. A moment later she squirmed, frowning. She turned onto her side and laid a few punches into the mattress to smooth it out, but still didn’t seem satisfied. Finally she threw the blanket back and kneeled beside the bed. She lifted up the corner of the mattress and her eyes landed on a videotape. She pulled it from under the mattress and looked at the label. It read, simply, ‘wooooo’. Jalie’s morbid curiosity won out immediately and she rushed downstairs with the tape. She dropped in front of the television and slid the tape into the combination DVD/VCR. A moment later the screen lit up with a fumbling shot of a hotel room Jalie instantly recognized from the pictures. The camera wasn’t held steady, but there was no mistaking the two people arm wrestling at the small table near the window. Andrew Barnes was clearly winning the contest, until Jalie placed her foot between his legs beneath the table. Andrew’s eyes went wide as saucers.

“Distraction! Diversionary tactics!” he yelped.

Jalie wiggled her toes and then slammed his arm down on the table.

“Bitch!”

Andrew leapt up from his chair and tackled Jalie to the floor. He landed a punch to her ribs before she gouged him in the eye. The camera holder laughed and the sound was female. Andrew looked up, one hand covering his left eye.

“What the fuck are you laughing at? I don’t pay you to laugh!”

“You haven’t paid me yet, dickwad.” said the woman.

Jalie crawled from beneath Andrew to reach the mini bar. She pulled out a miniature bottle of Cuervo Black and suddenly her eyes widened.

“I know what we need!” she exclaimed.

Barnes was staring fixedly at her stomach where her shirt had ridden up slightly. She hit him in the face with the tiny bottle. Andrew cursed and stumbled to his feet as the camera cut out. It lit up again, once more in the hotel room. The room was trashed by this point. The curtains were in tatters on the floor. The mini-bar was empty. The mattress and box spring were leaned together in the middle of the floor to form a make-shift tent. The camera was steady for once because it was sitting on the nightstand. Jalie was wearing an Andrew Barnes t-shirt and a pair of boyshorts. She was twirling a Louisville slugger and watching a nervous woman who was holding up a pinata. Barnes was wearing an apron advertising “Teddy’s BigBQ: It’s the sauce!” and nothing else. He was sitting in the tent lighting up a glass pipe and watching Jalie stalk the pinata. The woman holding it circled in front of the camera just as Jalie took a wild swing. It hit the woman in the arm and the arm, obviously a prosthetic, dropped to the ground. The woman cursed. Jalie picked up the prosthetic arm and continued stalking the pinata. She took a swing and clocked the woman in the head, missing the pinata entirely. The woman dropped.

“Nine point eight!” Andrew called.

Jalie dropped the plastic limb and climbed into the tent with Andrew. She leaned against him and quickly licked his ear.

“That was a ten, and you know it.”

Andrew’s eyes were slightly glazed over. “Your gold medal is in my pants. Reach on in there and find it.”

“You’re not wearing pants.” Jalie reminded him.

Barnes ignored her and slowly reached his hand toward her right breast. Jalie smacked his hand away and took the pipe from him. Andrew reached again and Jalie blew smoke in his eyes. He winced and Jalie dropped the pipe, laughing and crawling out of the tent. Barnes scrambled out after her and pounced on her, displaying his bare ass to the camera.

Jalie’s eyes went wide as she watched the display. She frantically dove forward and ejected the tape from the VCR. She ran back upstairs and pulled a black duffle bag from beneath the bed. She tossed the tape inside it, followed by random articles of clothing and a toothbrush. After some contemplation she added all the photos. She threw the bag over her shoulder and went downstairs. Seth was in the kitchen. He looked from her to the bag and back.

“Going somewhere?” he asked.

“Detroit. I figure one of us has to remember something. If I don’t call and I’m not back in three days I’m probably locked in Barnes’ basement. Send help.”

Jalie blew him a kiss and headed out the door.

Detroit was a haze of acrid, smog filled air and crowds of people who smelled worse. Jalie had pestered Walsh until he gave her Barnes’ address. She strongly suspected he’d finally given in not out of the kindness of his heart, but because he simply liked seeing her uncomfortable. It was now early afternoon and Jalie was standing outside a nondescript white house. The yard was overgrown and the front porch was littered with beer bottles and dirty laundry. She figured this was the right place. She made her way up the porch steps, opened the screen door that was missing a screen, and pounded on the door. It swung open. Jalie spared a moment to wonder if perhaps Barnes was dead – maybe the victim of an overzealous burglar. But then it occurred to her that Barnes had nothing worth taking. With a sigh, she stepped inside and dropped her bag on the floor. She shut the door behind her and took a moment to look around. The house looked like the average bachelor pad… If the average bachelor had an addictive personality and no sense of self preservation. Bits of broken glass crunched under her boots as she made her way toward the hallway opposite. She passed an open door leading into the bathroom, and finally found the door leading to Barnes’ bedroom. She covered her eyes with one hand and shoved the door open with her foot. No sudden noise met her intrusion, so she uncovered her eyes one finger at a time.

“Dios mio!”

She averted her eyes from the sight on the bed. Barnes was nude, facedown on the mattress with a half-filled beer clutched in his left hand. A tickle-me-elmo was on the bed near his feet, making odd warbling noises due to a low battery. Lying beside Andrew was a blow-up doll with a picture of Jalie’s face glued to it’s head. The doll was almost completely deflated, probably due to rough handling. At Jalie’s outburst, Barnes raised his head from the pillow. He slowly turned to look back at the door, and a huge grin spread across his face.

“Is this a dream?” he asked. “No… No, it’s not a dream because you’ve got clothes on. So have you finally seen the light, baby?”

Jalie gave him a stern look. She located a pair of black jeans on the bedroom floor and tossed them at him.

“We need to talk.” she said.

“Isn’t our relationship at kind of an early stage for that?”

He slid out of bed and pulled the jeans on, but didn’t bother zipping them up. He picked up the beer that was spilling onto his sheets and finished it off in one swig. He dropped the bottle to the floor, clapped his hands together, and said “Alright, let’s do this.”

He started walking towards Jalie swiftly. She backed out of the doorway and was off down the hallway, Andrew giving chase. Jalie dashed into the living room and jumped over the couch. Andrew tried the same move but face-planted into the couch cushions. He stumbled back to his feet and started after her again as she bailed out the front door. Barnes followed her as she ran around the side of the house. A moment later Jalie rounded the corner, coming back around the other side. Barnes came around shortly after, panting heavily and clutching his side.

“Why are you making this difficult?!” he bellowed.

Jalie picked a beer bottle up from the porch and pitched it at his head. It cracked against his forehead but didn’t seem to phase him. He began making his way toward the porch when Jalie ran inside the house, slammed the front door, and slid the deadbolt. Barnes skidded to a halt in front of the door and jiggled the handle pointlessly.

“How the fuck did this happen?” he mumbled. His pants were slowly slipping down his hips. He yanked them up higher and shouted at the door. “My house, my rules! Unlock this door and assume the fucking position!”

A woman pushing a stroller down the sidewalk gave him a disgusted look. He returned it and cupped himself, sticking his tongue out at her. She gave a startled cry before taking off at a brisk walk.

“She wants it.” Barnes said to himself, smirking. Finally his attention went back to the door as the cameras cut to the inside of the house. Jalie was in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge. Finally she came up with a beer. She popped the cap off on the edge of the counter and took a long pull from the bottle. She looked up to see Barnes standing outside the kitchen window over the sink. His lips were moving and his expression was furious, but his words couldn’t be heard. Jalie searched through kitchen drawers until she came up with a pencil and an old receipt. She scribbled something on it and held it up to the window.

‘U MAD?’

Andrew’s eyes narrowed and he began a new slew of silent cursing. Jalie grinned. She flipped the receipt over and scribbled something else before holding it up again.

‘U MAD.’

Barnes disappeared suddenly. Jalie took another pull from her beer, wondering if he’d actually given up that easily. Suddenly, Andrew came flying through the kitchen window in a shower of broken glass. He landed half on the kitchen sink before dropping with a smack to the soiled linoleum. He stood up quickly. Jalie looked impressed.

“You’ve got a little… Uh…” Jalie leaned forward and plucked a four-inch sliver of glass from Andrew’s left side. If it hurt, his face didn’t show it.

“Just tell me what happened last week, and I’ll leave you alone.” Jalie said simply. Barnes continued to stare at her. His gaze slowly dropped to her chest. Jalie reached out and lifted his chin so she could look into his eyes. They were bloodshot, and there was a small piece of glass sticking out from his left eyelid, but it seemed she finally had his attention.

“What do you mean, tell you what happened?” he asked. “Isn’t it obvious? I fucked you. You clearly liked it. Why the hell else are you here?”

“You don’t remember a damn thing either, do you?” Jalie asked.

“I remember enough.” Andrew said, smirking.

Jalie rolled her eyes. “There’s not a chance in hell we actually had sex. You don’t have any proof.”

“You don’t have any proof we didn’t.” Andrew countered.

“What about the bitch filming the tape?” Jalie asked. “She’d know what happened.”

“There was a tape?” Barnes asked, his eyes going wide. He dashed into the living room before Jalie could stop him. He rummaged through her duffle bag until he came up with the video tape. Jalie made it into the room and tackled him just as he pressed play on his weathered VCR. The video picked up where Jalie had shut it off, with Andrew’s behind wiggling and taking up most of the frame. Jalie could be heard laughing hysterically as Andrew blew raspberries on her cheek. In between giggles, she clocked him with a solid left hook. Barnes rocked back and then returned the favor with a backhand that sent her rolling to her side, still laughing.

In the living room, Jalie glanced over her shoulder to see Andrew’s hand disappearing down his pants. She ejected the tape and pitched it against the wall as hard as she could. It cracked, sending the film spilling onto the carpet.

“NOOOOOO!”

Barnes picked up the remnants and glared at Jalie.

“You just can’t let me have ANYTHING, can you?!” he pouted.

Jalie ignored him. “Look, if either of us wants to figure out what the fuck went on for three days, I suggest you pack your shit. We need to make a road trip. This thing was filmed in Vegas – I recognize the view from the window.”

“Road trip to Vegas, you say?” Barnes asked, raising an eyebrow and stroking his beard thoughtfully. His gaze dropped to Jalie’s chest and he grinned. “I’m in.”

So, Epidemic was something of a nightmare… But it was fun. Nick asked me why in the hell I didn’t go for a championship when I had the opportunity. The answer is pretty simple. I had the chance to fuck somebody up. And that is why I am in this business – not for shiny belts or labels. I like the idea of hurting people without legal ramifications. For someone like me, it is the ultimate profession. Do what you like and get paid for it. Sort of like when a nymphomaniac takes up prostitution. After the main event I found out Miranda Reizeger won the Universal title. I called that one, folks. The television title went to Nelly King, the optimistic and soft spoken rape victim. She probably needs the pay bonus to pay for all the god damn therapy she goes through. Lastly, of course, the United titles went to KC Delight and Shyla Clemmens.

I happen to like most things about KC Delight except for her name. The name makes me want to hurt her. It reminds me of models with gigantic asses that call themselves ‘Luscious’ or ‘Tasty’. Beyond that, I have to say that if I had the ability to be impressed by anything, I’d probably be impressed by her silly ghetto accent and ability to wrestle a firearm from a thug. How quaint.

Shyla is the niece of a man that I have a bit of history with. No, not that kind of history. Shane and I bummed around together in the well-known group No Cash Value with that dipshit Dryden. I’ve always liked Clemmens. He and I understand each other. He’s kind of a dick. Shyla, well, she’s no Shane. But that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. She certainly has an attitude about her. It almost makes up for the cookie cutter enhanced blonde look she’s got going on. Despite that, she tends to make a good showing when it comes to a fight, and that’s something I can understand. I like Shyla. I think she’ll be someone I’ll enjoy beating the living hell out of, and I’m sure the feeling is mutual.

Granted, these two aren’t exactly a solid team, but they’re both talented enough and focused enough to hold on to their titles for a while. That doesn’t mean Barnes and I may not end up fucking destroying them, but the chances of that happening are a little more random than anything I’d like to put money on.

The fact that someone with a sense of humor saw fit to pair Barnes and I in this match seems like a cruel joke. I’m supposed to rely on the fucking Dutch Defender to cover me? How did this happen?