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The Wrestler

by BP | Score: 4600

The band chanted their way to an exuberant finish then bowed their way off stage. Stragg remembered them from a show a few months back. Karlix had hired them for, "fan engagement." A fun way of saying, you and the boys aren't getting it done. Stragg had wanted to hold a grudge. In his experience, it was easier than admitting he was wrong, but the bastards had been good and when he went over in the main there wasn't a doubt in his mind the pop he got would've been the same had it not been for Sybil and the Wailers hitting their cue the second Gremin raised his hand.

But that was a few months back, and Stragg knew how fast this business could turn. Still, knowing something and understanding it were two different things. Which is why he was here, in Castigan's Tavern, trying to replace every drop of liquid in his body with booze instead of fifty miles west tugging the curtain.

The mug hit the table with more force than he intended, but he was well past drunk enough not to care. The waitress must have seen the ale slosh out because she was at his side before he had a chance to register his hand was wet.

"Nother?"

Strigg nodded without looking then went back to his thoughts. Karlix was a bastard. He'd always known that. But that he was the kind of bastard who would double cross him at the height of his push just to hot shot some new kid before they broke into the Western Lands because "Giants are really in right now." Well, if he thought about it, yeah, he was exactly that kind of bastard.

The waitress slithered over and lowered another mug onto the table. Strigg wondered how her slender arms refused to shake under the weight of the giant ales. He considered complimenting her, but by the time he got his thoughts in order she was leaning over and speaking to him.

"What?"

"I said the drink's paid for." Her bifurcated tongue made a song out of the sentiment and Strigg felt his heart skip a beat. He'd always been a sucker for a lisp--though road experience taught him to never refer to [Rodian] accents as lisps.

"I appreciate it."

The waitress held up her hand. "Don't thank me." She jerked her head toward the bar. If there was any question as to who she was referring to, the snakes on her head put a finger point on it, directing their snouts toward a glammed-out woman at the bar.

She was running her fingers through her wings, pruning her feathers when one slipped out and fluttered to the floor. A fan raced over and snatched it. Sybil smiled, shooing the fan away as they thanked her profusely.

Strigg raised his drink and the siren did the same before downing it and sauntering over. 

"No show tonight?"

Strigg scoffed into his drink. "No, not tonight."

"What's wrong?"

Strigg took his time answering. The ale felt smooth going down his throat and he wasn't in a hurry to interrupt. Free drinks always tasted better. "Karlix decided to go in a different direction."

Sybil's face scrunched up. He had never noticed before, but her delicate cheek bones and wide eyes gave her face the distinct impression of an owl. 

"Apparently giants are very big right now."

"I was under the impression they always were."

Strigg coughed up a mouthful of ale. He tried covering his nose to hide the fact that his guests kind gesture was currently dripping out of his nose. 

"I guess that's true."

"But big hulking ogres?"

Strigg shook his head. "Not so much."

"Odd. I seem to remember playing to a raucous crowd as they cheered one on."

"Time's change."

"Only once?"

Strigg stifled another chuckle. He knew siren's had a reputation for drawing people in, he just assumed it was strictly in reference to their songs.

"Wrestling is a different beast. Like a giant wheel rolling 

Completed challenges

The following challenges were completed during the writing exercise:

Begin Start typing to begin
Letter Use the letter I
Words Reach 50 words
Words Reach 100 words
Location A tavern
Event Someone is drunk
Words Reach 200 words
Words Reach 300 words
Words Reach 400 words
Words Reach 500 words
Words Reach 600 words

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