Officer Purvis then walked over to Jay and nodded respectfully to White Ash and the ladies. “I’m sorry to bother you at this hour Jay, but I was wondering if you would talk with my son and his friend? They are big MMA fans and apparently know all about you. They hit the roof when I told them I met you. They are out in my cruiser now with all kinds of junk for you to sign. I had no idea you were even famous!”

Whew!

“Neither did I Sir. In fact I only thought I had the one televised fight en dat was when I got whooped by Gonzales. Sure Sir, bring dem boys in, if it okay wit Miss Ann.”

Miss Ann then chimed in, “You all are welcome officer. They don’t call my Baby Boy ‘Action Bracken’ for nothing you know. I’ll go put on some steak and eggs for you and your little honeys.”

As Al headed out to wave his boys inside White Ash was whispering in his ear, “If your mean arguments with fellow Sunset warriors gain you such notoriety imagine if they knew what I know, if they had seen what my eyes have seen?”

“That’s between you en me girl.”

“Only so long as you return to me and keep me pregnant. I want a large family, to be like Miss Ann when I am old, with good daughters, but with strong warrior sons. I miss keeping the fire with my many sisters. Keep me with child DeathSong and I will keep your secret.”

“Sure thing girl; I promise to come by regular and love ya like ya say.”

She licked his ear and bit him on the back of the neck as two younger teenage boys came into the living room with I-phones MMA T-shirts a stack of fight magazines and a laptop!

He stood to greet them and White Ash did the same, smoothing her tight robe to show the curves of her body. She was radiant and sultry with her pretty copper face and flowing black hair. Both boys just stared at her and the oldest exclaimed, “Wow! Is she a ring card girl—she’s hot.”

He was trying to come up with an answer when White Ash spoke in a calculated seductive tone, “Oh, he won me as a prize for defeating a very large warrior who had claimed me. I belong to him and am so honored.”

The adults were stunned to silence but the oldest boy was excited. “I didn’t even know you had fought at the Mohegan Sun? I sure didn’t know the reservation casinos put up hot chicks for fight of the night! Wow!! This is awesome!!! Hi—I’m Allen and this is Edward—Mister Bracken—Jay—can I call you Jay—we’ve seen the Gonzales fight like a hundred times. And since the fight with the Siberian Tiger on pudgecast I think both videos are going to go viral—look we brought stuff to autograph.”

The other boy then flipped out his camera phone and interrupted, “Hey Jay, can you take off your shirt? There’s some arguments on the tao-site about your scars. They say you were a knife-fighter—like death matches in Indonesia and stuff…”

White Ash was already stripping his shirt off and posing seductively with him like she was an auto magazine model and he was a sports car with a unique paint job. She used her pretty little painted fingernails to point out each and every scar and hole with a blown kiss, pursed lips, a girly wave or a seductive wink. Fortunately the boy doing the video was just as interested in her body as Jay’s so he was hoping to avoid face shots.

Then she started posing his jaw with her hands and Allen flipped open the laptop and pulled up some website that had video of him spearing the stud in the Nevada rally fight, a Muay Thai bout he had forgotten about in Brazil, and even him fighting the giant dirty-long-underwear-wearing crack-head in the alley behind Monument Street in Baltimore while Eddie filmed it with his phone and ran his mouth in the background.

Allen was then pointing at a video of Eddie—dressed up like Super Fly—being interviewed by Pudge after Jay’s loss to the Siberian Tiger as Jay stood weaving and bleeding behind him with a stolen motel towel draped over his head. “En I tellin’ you bikaman; Jay-Bone da Barbarian comin’ back! We fightin’ aroun’ da wide whorl. My man had only two day noticafacation fer dis joint up in here…”

Jay had heard it all before. So when Diane stood on his right side to see the screen he sought enlightenment. “Miss Diane—my girl here was an ancient Indian nun a few weeks ago. What is up with the Marilyn Monroe act?”

Diane whispered back, “Miss Ann’s Charm School; a plan to get your attention. She’s had her watching The Price is Right for two weeks and imitating the models, posing with the furniture, learning how to wiggle her ass when she walks. You never had a chance kid.”

Allen kept pressing for information for his own website that was being linked to Pudge’s site and a site put up by some Chinese kid, who had been researching Jay online for years, and even had a photo of him being stitched up by a Filipino doctor after a knife fight in Hong Kong.

It was frightening how taken these boys were with his dubious prizefighting career. Allen had a studied way about him when he asked questions, like a sportscaster. “So, Jay is that pimp your manager?”

“He was the guy that filmed the alley fight and your race with the bus right?”

“Is it true about you fighting a Yeti in the Himalayas?”

“How would you train for that—go up to Big Bear maybe?”

Finally something I can answer, “That would be cool!”

“Did you really outrun a clan of hyenas?”

He was very conscious that this footage might be aired online and tried to speak properly. “Well I never did own a stopwatch, dough I have outrun some pretty fast critters. Neva ferget dough, dat beatin’ a dang city bus don’ mean ya can take a Mustang on a country road…”

…and so the night reeled awkwardly on as White Ash posed him for the boys’ cameras while they interrogated him and he signed autographs and dispensed advice about the evils of fighting and not finishing school…or else all the ‘Junior Jays’ out there would be in danger of ending up like you with some knockout hanging on their arm caressing them before their adoring public, proud to be their battle-prize.