A broad-shouldered Caucasian man with a trimmed moustache and a scar over his eye stands in the ring. He wears suspenders hooked to his tights, tape around his fists and an old-school watch chain. He rolls his shoulder, cracks his knucles and pops his neck.
David Bekker: Already in the ring, from Brooklyn, New York in the USA, standing 183 centimetres and weighing in at 118 kilos, "Mr Minute" Louie Mercer!
Mercer holds up his watch to a mild pop.
SDS: The 42nd overall pick at the draft. A technical brawler known in the underground circuit for his 1-minute wins, mostly against hopefuls and rookies.
DS: I can respect it.
SDS: That's not to say he can't go. He's got quite a few championships to his name and most recently spent time in the Lion's Den Combat Club.
DS: That's where Athiambo and Zadie Chen in the Madhouse are from, right?
SDS: Kalavina Leota as well. Sanka Williams and Arthur Chen's relationship has been paying dividends.
DS: What kind of relationship?
SDS (through gritted teeth): A very friendly business relationship.
DS: ... Got it.
An Afrobeat instrumental plays as a very large bald Black man walks down the ramp in a a sleeveless purple pimp jacket and diamond-studded sunglasses.
David Bekker: And the opponent, from Onitsha, Anambra, Nigeria, standing 206 centimetres and weighing in at 128 kilos, "Diamond Jack" Ekwueme!
SDS: The 32nd overall pick-
DS: And the corrompido who built a strip club across from mine! Almost ruined me until I bribed him to go away.
SDS: Bribed him with what?
DS: My first wife... and my second.
Stroligo audibly groans on the mic as Ekwueme steps over the ropes and completely dwarfs Mercer and referee Dan Masters, who calls for the bell. Holds up his fists, ready to scrap with the giant. Ekwume just smiles, showing off his diamon-encrusted teeth. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a THICK stack of cash. Mercer's eyebrows raise and his hands lower. Ekwueme's free hand raises as well, with four visible fingers. Mercer nods. The crowd boos.
SDS: You can't be serious...
DS: Son of a bitch... He's bribing Mercer to throw the match and I think Mercer's going to do it.
Masters snatches the money out Ekwueme's hand and gives him a verbal warning, but then Mercer suddenly spins him around and slaps him across the face. Masters calls for the bell. The crowd boos louder.
SDS: OH FOR THE LOVE OF-
David Bekker: Ladies and gentlemen this match has been declared a no-contest!
Ekwueme looks visibly disappointed with the result. He looks down at Mercer and raises up two fingers. Mercer nods again and snatches the stack of cash from Masters as Ekwueme pulls out a second one, hands it to Mercer and leaves.
SDS: Wh-What is this? What did we just witness?
DS: ... A very friendly business relationship.
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