Jack stumbled through at that point. He was clean but looked bleary. “Man, those guys hit hard! I feel like death warmed over.”“Now you know how...I felt last week.”Bobbie Joe asked, “So who won?”Jack and I stared at him. “You don’t know? You weren’t listening to the radio? You haven’t read the newspaper?” I asked.“Sorry, no. I watched TV last night,” he answered.“Go get the paper, you little shitweasel!” ordered Jack.“I swear to God; we’re taking away your man card!” I added.“Hey!” Bobbie Joe. With disdain he surveyed the injury to my knee, a tiny drop of blood having formed in the centre of the makeshift bandage. Ach, its little more than a scratch, he scoffed dismissively, unappreciative of the full extent of the injury. Youll be right as rain in the morning. Though I couldnt have agreed less, I nodded, fearing he might get physical with me next. Yet he simply paced the room, scratching at a wiry ginger beard and muttering under his breath. Our eyes met and I cowered before. More

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