I could be Ravaging Red…

51c93OLpPOL._AC_UL200_SR200,200_You know, sometimes all it takes is an accidental encounter to start you on the road to a new career. That is how I feel about my recent opportunity to enter the wrestling arena. When you are done sneering, let me tell you how I became a wrestler.

I was taking care of one of those chores that always gets put off at my school. There was a collection of donated jewelry to be used for drama productions, and when we made the move from the “old stage” to the “new stage”, this jewelry was left behind. After four years, I finally got up the energy to go get it.

I marched up to the old gym, a dark, cavernous building with lights which could only be reached by walking through the building, up some steps and across the stage. I used to do it without even thinking, but for four years, this gym has been the domain of the wrestling team, not the drama department,  and I was out of practice. I felt my way into the dark cave of a stage, walked confidently across and there, in the dark, I stepped on a body. I knew it was a body, it was squishy like a body and when I kicked it in my fright, the arms flopped over, grabbing my legs.

This was too much! I screamed several times–the echo was great–and then I began to karate chop what was obviously a not-quite-dead zombie from the deep. After a couple of minutes wrangling with it, I managed to pull myself free and run for the light switch.

Still screaming, my heart pounding I dramatically hit the lights and…my zombie was a practice wrestling dummy–complete with head and limbs. It didn’t help at all that the dummy looked worse off than me…he was hanging off the stage head first and looking pretty shaken up.

That’s when it hit me. I had taken out the wrestling dummy, which meant that I must be pretty good. Certainly, that wrestling dummy won’t be dumb enough to mess with me again. Once I stopped my heart from pounding out of my chest and changed my underwear, I was feeling pretty tough.

Maybe it’s time I tried out a new career. I’ve seen those professional wrestlers; it’s easy. All you do is give yourself a cool name, get spandex and some sequins and you’re a wrestler. I’m going to do it. I’m going to launch into a new career. I’ll call myself Ravaging Red and rat my hair and throw some glitter in it. Now, do you suppose I can get the dummy to write me a reference?

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