Massha dropped a heavy hand on my shoulder.
“Hot stuff, remember our deal about my lessons?”
“Later, Massha. The match is about to start.”
Actually, it was about to finish. It was that short, if you’ll pardon the expression.
The first member of the favored red trunk team simply strolled out and pinned his white-trunked rival. Though the pin looked a bit like someone trying to wrap a package with tangled string, the red-trunker made it seem awfully easy. All efforts of his opponent’s partner to dislodge the victor were in vain, and the bout was over.
“Well, that’s that,” the Geek said, standing up. “A pleasure doing business with you, Skeeve. Look me up again if you tie on to a live one.”
“Aren’t you going to collect your bet?”
The Deveel shrugged.
“No rush. Besides, I think your playmates are a little preoccupied just now.”
I looked where he was pointing and saw Shai-ster storming toward the dressing rooms with Guido and Nunzio close behind. None of them looked particularly happy, which was understandable, given the circumstances.
“Whoops. That’s my cue. See you back at the Yellow Crescent, Massha.”
And with that, I launched myself in an interceptor course with the angry mobsters.
Chapter Nineteen:
“These blokes need to be taught to respect their superiors.”
– GEN. CORNWALUS
I ALMOST missed them. Not that I was moving slow, mind you. It’s just that they had a real head of steam on.
“Hi guys!” I called, just as Shai-ster was raising a fist to hammer on the dressing room door. “Are you going to congratulate the winners, too?”