We got a table in the back and ordered drinks.
“How are we going to get to talk to Mary Maggie?” Lula wanted to know. “We can't hardly see from here.”
“I checked this place out. There are only two doors, so after Mary Maggie does the mud thing we'll each take a door and catch her leaving.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Lula said, belting back her drink and ordering another.
There were a few women with dates, but mostly the room was filled with men, looking serious, hoping a G-string would get ripped off in the mud, which I assume is the equivalent to sacking the quarterback.
Valerie's eyes were wide. Hard to tell if they were reflecting excitement or hysteria.
“Are you sure I'll meet lesbians here?” she shouted above the noise.
Lula and I looked around. We didn't see any lesbians. At least not any who looked like Valerie.
“You never know when lesbians are gonna show up,” Lula said. “Probably you should have another drink. You look kind of pale.”
I sent the note to Mary Maggie on the next drink order. I told her my table and told her I had a message I wanted passed on to Eddie DeChooch.
A half hour later I still hadn't heard from Mary Maggie. Lula had put away four Cosmopolitans and was looking stone-cold sober, and Valerie had chugged two glasses of Chablis and was looking very happy.
Women were whaling away at each other in the pit. Once in a while a hapless drunken male would get pulled into the ooze and flail around until he swallowed a gallon of muck and was expelled by the bouncer. There was a lot of hair pulling and bitch slapping and sliding around. I guess mud is slippery. So far no one got their G-string removed, but there was a bunch of mud-slicked bare breasts that were bloated to the bursting point with implants. All in all, the whole thing didn't look too appealing, and I was happy I had a job where people shot at me. Better than wallowing in the mud half naked.
Mary Maggie's match was announced, and Mary Maggie came out dressed in a silver bikini. I was beginning to see a theme here. Silver Porsche, silver bikini. There was a lot of cheering. Mary Maggie is famous. Then the other woman came out. Her name was Animal, and just between you and me I didn't think it looked good for Mary Maggie. Animal's eyes were glowing red and it was hard to tell from the distance, but I'm pretty sure she had snakes in her hair.
The announcer rang the bell and the two women circled and then lunged. They did this with little success for a while and then Mary Maggie slipped and Animal pounced on her.
This brought the entire room to standing, including Lula and Valerie and me. We were all yelling, wanting Mary Maggie to disembowel Animal. Of course Mary Maggie had too much class to disembowel Animal, so they thrashed in the mud for a few minutes and then started taunting the audience, wanting their own unfortunate drunken male.
“You,” Mary Maggie said, pointing in my direction.
I looked around, hoping to find a sex-crazed guy waving a twenty standing just behind me.
Mary Maggie took the microphone. “We have a special guest here tonight. We have The Bounty Hunter. Also known as The Cadillac Wrecker. Also known as The Harasser.”
Oh boy.
“You want to talk to me, Bounty Hunter?” Mary Maggie asked. “Step right up.”
“Maybe later,” I said, thinking Mary Maggie's stage personality wasn't at all like the bookworm I'd met earlier. “We'll talk after the show
,” I told her. “Don't want to take up your valuable time while you're onstage.”
And then suddenly I was being lifted into the air by two very large men. I was being carried, still seated in my chair, six feet off the floor, to the ring.
“Help!” I yelped. “Help!”
I was held high above the ring. Mary Maggie smiled. And Animal growled and rotated her head. And then the chair tipped and I did a free fall into the mud.
Animal pulled me to my feet by my hair. “Relax,” she said. “This will be painless.”
Then she tore my shirt off. Good thing I was wearing my good lace bra from Victoria's Secret.
In the next instant, we all went down in a screaming pack. Mary Maggie Mason, Animal, and me. And then Lula waded in.
“Hey,” Lula said. “We just come here to talk and you're ruining my friend's skirt. We're gonna give you a drycleaning bill.”
“Oh yeah? Well, bill this,” Animal said and she yanked Lula's foot out from under her, sending Lula to her ass in the mud.