Championship.

It was the first time for Deba Bocho.The championship belt was on the line.

And he was squaring off with The Machete.While,the Machete has been butchering meat for the past 6 years,Deba Bocho was in a Japanese resturant.

After rounds and fourteen bell tolls,The Machete hit one across the temporal of Bocha.

Just as Bocha fell into the blood and the grime and the shattered bones,he cut right across the femur of Machete.

Longitudinally.

Smile.

She smiled at me.She smiled at my neck.

While my neck smiled back at her,red all over.

I lay there mumbling filthy-bitch words.

She tch-tch-ed and smiled and wiped the blood off the blade with a swanky grey kerchief.