According to a sign, Saint Clairsville, Ohio has a population of 5,763.  Which apparently is enough people to support having a shitty comedy show and a shitty wrestling show the same night.  Christie came to my show and I told him we’d do a bit where he’d heckle me and then I’d come out and knock his block off.  He said “so you’ll miss and I’ll pretend you hit me?”  I told him I’d make light contact. 

The crowd loved it when he was shitting on me because wrestling fans are monsters.  They loved if even more when I blasted him because wrestling fans are monsters.  I heard later that my opponent wasn’t very happy about taking the attention off the match.  In retrospect, I should have had her do it.  Live and learn. 

When I saw him afterwards, Christie had a big shiner and was salty about it.  I told him I could have hit him a lot harder.  He finally shut up about it when I said I could prove it. 

At his show, 80 percent of his set was about how he got punched by a woman.  It didn’t seem very funny to me but people were laughing.  I think he should give me 80 percent of his pay since I gave him all that material.

After he got off stage, he came up next to me at the bar and ordered a Jack and coke.  While he was waiting, he nodded at a gaunt looking dude in a suit and tie that was alternating between not laughing at all and laughing way too much.  He looked kind of like a picture I saw once of Ichabod Crane. 

“He’s one?” I asked.

He said “We’ve got a hit.”

I took Christie’s hand to try and use him as a conduit to see what he was seeing.  He snatched his hand away and acted uptight about it.  I grabbed his hand again and told him to shut up. 

It took a couple minutes.  A dude smirked at us and said how sweet it was that we were holding hands.  Christie told him to go fuck himself.  I thought he was going to get me into a fight.

I didn’t literally see anything, it wasn’t like I could suddenly see a phantom spider-monster sucking on the guy’s brain.  I just knew.  I think this is what Royale called assensing.  Some stupid movie I saw called it the soul gaze.  Sight beyond sight.  The guy was compromised.  By something.  Something bad. 

Christie made a snide remark/question about what we should do since I’m such a powerful magic person.  I already told him the plan.  He was just busting my ass.  He’s an unpleasant person.  I suppose he thinks the same about me. 

We nursed a couple of drinks and then followed Skeletor when he left. 

Published by sopantooth

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