As I walked out of the smoke, with the paid for crowd all
booing with no real emotion, the boss’ voice kept repeating in my head.
“Think of the publicity!”
It drove me to go through the ‘approved by the producers’
version of my entrance routine, into the ring, and then to stand there, opposite
the comedian, dressed like a pirate.
We locked up, my grip loose.
“Ow! Lighten up!” he whispered.
As I snapped, and grabbed him and went to drop him on his
head, all that was going through my head was one phase.
Think of the publicity…
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