A teaser from my upcoming pro-wrestling themed short story “Hells Go to Hell”

The roar of the crowd had always got Tommy Buckley’s blood pumping, but he’d never in all his life heard a crowd quite like this before. This was Wrestlepalooza, baby, an event he’d dreamed of being involved in all his life, and not only was he involved, he was in the effing main event! He was wrestling for the National Wrestling Feder-ation’s top prize, the world heavyweight championship, against his boyhood idol, “Gentleman” Craig Thornton.

WWE-SmackdownTommy was standing in the gorilla position, poking his head out the curtains, watching the current match between popular tag team champions “Smooth Jazz” (comprised of brothers Chris and Nicky Courage) and their equally-popular opponents, “Cowboy” Bob Dodge and Robert Fernandez. The crowd roared as Dodge hoisted Nicky Courage onto the turnbuckle for his trademark superplex, and then cheered even louder as Nicky countered the move and nearly pinned his opponent with a sunset flip.

“We have the battle royal after this, and then you’re up in the title match,” said a raspy voice from behind him. “You ready, Tommy?”

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From Joe's writing

Fred Ruskin sat by himself at a table in the back of the Peacock, the seediest bar that Carthage had to offer. Tonight he didn’t care who saw him drinking. The twang of Merle Haggard singing ‘Things Aren’t Funny Anymore’ drifted across the room from the old jukebox in the corner. ‘Ain’t that the truth,’ mumbled Ruskin, raising his glass in a silent toast to the music.

— Small Things, Chapter 21