Money Crazy- Love Ain't Worth It

$1$ The She-Hulk

$1$ The She-Hulk

The music boomed, vibrating through my body and every cell, the tingling sensation editing up to the adrenalin coursing through my veins.

The light above me was bright and clear, illuminating the damn square I was locked in.

Glancing briefly around, my instincts to escape clicked in, it was probably the fiftieth time I was doing this and still I wanted to turn and run. Call me chicken or what not, but I’d rather prefer ‘sensible’ to describe an instinct that was born in us.

But there was no escape, the cage around me and her was rattled as people shouted profanities at us, the strong iron it was made of did a good job in withstanding the daily or rather nightly abuse it suffered from the spectators- and us.

And with “us” I mean the female she-hulk before me and of course how- could it be different- me- well guess that didn’t need any further explanation- but who knows- better safe.

“Okay everybody! Put your bets- in three minutes we start! Who d’you think will win?

Our Little Kitten or V a n e s s a? Put your bets!” the commentators cheery voice sounded of the black speakers montaged on the walls, and as he started his rant- in try to spike up the mood that already hurt my head- the she- hulk laughed.

It was girly and totally out of place coming from her throat and statue. “Kitten?” she snickered taunting me and some man around the cage joined her and threw one vulgarity after another at me.

But I couldn’t care less.

In my eyes the trained woman before me had 300 $ tattooed on her forehead- fat letters practically screaming at me to get them and I wasn’t able to ignore its call.

It was money I needed to come through this month safely.

And for that I had to bash up an already ugly face, it didn’t bother me anymore, going into the ring I left those thoughts behind me.

It was me and her- and not to mention- 300 $ at stake.

Releasing a shaky breath I was holding, I closed my eyes for a second of peace in my mind.

Breathing in, breathing out, just like I had learned in yoga, and slightly flexing my hands and arms, preparing them for the onslaught we would go trough for approximately around 30 minutes.

It was not like I was some dump- I didn’t fight unprepared.

I had her analyzed- watching five fights with her. She was cunning and cheated by pulling hair and scratching in the face, and beside that- well yeah- let’s say she-hulk doesn’t do her justice- hulk would lose against that vulgar chunk of muscle- called her body.

But she was slow- and there was my chance! My chance to win- my soon to be 300 $.

Nope, I don’t get tired of the word, I could say it all day, hear it all day, whatever- Three-Hundred-Dollar. Pure satisfaction.

I stood leisurely on my side of the ring, waiting for our commentator Jamal to start the fight. And my temporarily different occupied mind seemed to enrage her, her mouth opened, closed she seemed to sneer and huff but I heard nothing over the blasting music mixed with screaming voices.

I didn’t care what they thought about me, I wasn’t here to be some eye candy, or even make friends, and sure as hell I wasn’t here because I enjoyed it.

I came to win- M.O.N.E.Y. -watch- analyze- fight- win- and then grab my money and get heck out of here. That was what my weekends consisted off- and I couldn’t afford to change my routine.