Chapter 2, Part 2 – Reminisce Over Your Grin

Pusha T-Raw and New Gack Ganja Grin roadi-five-thousand over to Ring Depot, a mega store that satiates any pugilist or Pusha’s B.E.F needs. Materials to build your own ring? Ring Depot had the supply. How about a punching bag tailor made to your specifications? Ring Depot had the specifics. On the Canvas of West Koast, this store was the G.L.U.V that would fit you…well like a glove.

Back at T-Raw’s Krib, the Grin Unit rehearse tactics in preparation for The Show. Pusha T-Raw incorporates various styles and unorthodox methods that complement Ganja’s B-Steez. Ganja shadows tactics for five rounds, implementing ginga movements in his combinations. Tik-Tik-Tik-ginga. Three jabs and a dodge. Tik-Tok-ginga. A jab followed by a straight right. Boom-Bap-Pow, Ganja’s left and right hook followed by an uppercut.

From there, the odd unit of Jabbity Klub Drive goes to the heavy bag. To simulate The Fridge’s reach, T-Raw bought an eighty-inch-long pole and attached a bestus to the head, while Ganja attempted to maneuver inside and hit the bag. 

For body training, T-Raw holds Ganja’s feet while he does sit-ups, doing a combination each time he stands up. While sitting down in a wide-leg position, Ganja punches left and right like a deranged lunatic in a mental asylum, twisting his torso with each punch. 

To end the session, T-Raw uses training sticks attached with nooses on the ends of them. Ganja slips his feet inside the nooses, while T-Raw controls the ends to practice free-flow unorthodox movements like a puppeteer. After three days of light conditioning, the odd pair rested on the fourth day with a game of dominoes. 

“Let me jab you something dork,” T-Raw shuffles the dominoes on the marble table. “How does it feel to sign your identity away to the Alleged Gory contract? Don’t you miss being called [REDACTED]?” 

“Not really punk,” Ganja picks out his seven bones. “When I was a kid, I used to answer between my first and middle name. My first name being used mainly for school and my middle name back at home. Coincidentally, I wanted to be an entertainer, so I think its kinda fitting I go by a permanent stage name, ya jab me?”

“That also the reason you act all hype, spouting all that crap while you BEF? 

“G’mon T, don’t sweat me this much before a match. It’s all a show anyways,” Ganja grins.

“Show or not, when you step in the ring you make risky moves,” T-Raw lays down a domino. “This isn’t a game like you play on your Box’D Contraption-2000 or a show like Pugil-Phist Jones. This a Grown Man’s Sport. Just make sure you protect ya-self, ya grinning geriatric.” 

“Grin-grin,” Ganja says cooly, “but you gotta do me a quick favor…”

“What kid?”

“King me punk!” Ganja slams a domino on the marble table. 

T-Raw jab checks Ganja in the arm, “This ain’t checkers dork!” 

“JMD!” Ganja grits.

The night before The Show, Ganja wakes up in a cold sweat on his personal canvas. Ganja stares at a clock on top of a wooden dresser. It’s three-forty in the morning. The Grin’N Bastard gets out of bed and looks at his shadow in the mirror. Half of his face shows through the crescent moonlight, while the other half in pure void. He starts to shadow tactics in the undercover of darkness.

“I’ll make a man out of you yet,” Ganja grins. 

Box Check. The Show’s On. 

INT. PROJECT BEF – BEF PIT – NIGHT 

An old-school microphone descends as if from heaven itself. A man in a pinstriped sports suit blazer, reminiscent of nineties comedians, a poet cap, and glasses with a false funny nose grabs the mic and roadwalks the canvas. This is Warhol Vaude.

VAUDE: One-one-one-one-one-two-one two, some pugilists’ dreams stay dreams–

Warhol Vaude holds the mic to the crowd. 

CROWD: While others come true! 

VAUDE: Welcome fisticuff fans to Project BEF! I’m your friendly neighborhood Warhol for this evening, blessed with the gift of gab and all that jab! 

Some people from the crowd laugh along, while others dismiss the corniness of the punchstaking pun entirely. 

VAUDE: Tonight’s Project, the debut of a New Gack. Standing at five-foot-seven, his slab at one-hundred and forty pounds, in the green trunks and yellow bestus. Sporting an inverted V-shaped scar on his mug. His B-Steez a Test-Tube pugilist. G.L.U.V is named The Grinning Goose. Managed and trained by Pusha T-Raw, Project BEF fans give it up for Ganja Grin!

Pusha T-Raw and Ganja Grin stand in one corner of the ring. Ganja paces around back and forth with his head down in his own purgatory. He tunes and bobs his head in sporadic motions as if trying to find a good beat on a car radio. Some of the crowd cheers, but the ones who know of Ganja Grin from his B-Bap days berate him with insults. 

B-BAP 1: I hope this Gackass gets beat!

B-BAP 2: Word, I got alot of BEF stamps riding on this one-G. 

VAUDE: His OPP, a slab of seven-foot-two and one-hundred and forty-two pounds. His steez consists of white Gi pants, sleek silver bestus, and pure black tinted shades. B-Steez is a Battler. His G.L.U.V, the Stainless Steel. Transferring in from across Montyleaux Isle is Neeeww Jaaack, Seymour The Fridge! 

The Fridge sits stoically in a wooden rocking chair on the other side of the corner. Seymour arises to meet Ganja Grin in the center. Ganja with his head still down goes to the center, not yet acknowledging his opponent. 

T-RAW: Remember stimulus and response Ganja. 

Warhol Vaude, Ganja, and Fridge stand center ring. Seymour towers over Ganja, glaring. Vaude stands between them with the mic. 

VAUDE: Ok New Gacks, Box Check! Show’s On and it stays on for four rounds. Fast-paced action, ya dig? 

Warhol Vaude huddles them in closer as if telling them a secret. 

VAUDE: Remember callout by stage names only, flashy moves and finishers encouraged. Get in First Fist stances!

Ganja finally looks up to his Opposing Punching Pugilist. Ganja grins. The two New Gacks get into a quick draw stance. Their lead forearm touches the other. First one to strike gets the accolade, First Fist. 

GANJA(V.O.): Good grin, with this punk’s reach, there’s no way I can jab the bastard first. I’ll have to bag back, then attack. 

To start the round, a slab is hit. Ganja feels Seymour move his forearm away, anticipating a tactic, but what the grinning bastard sees next completely dumbfounds him. The Fridge roadwalks back to his own corner! Everyone looks in incredulity, except Warhol Vaude, who starts talking the ounces at Fridge. 

VAUDE: Show’s On Fridge, expeditiously! Move it ya slender slab of a Gackass! 

The Fridge rests his long arms on the ropes and doesn’t move a muscle. Ganja rushes head on. 

GANJA(V.O.): Punk thinks he can just- 

T-RAW: Don’t rush him, ya geriatric!

Using the ropes as a sling, Seymour whips a fast jab while ad-libbing a hefty battle cry during the punch. The force and inertia cause the Grin’N New Gack to fly back as he does a backflip. 

FRIDGE: Oyeee!

SFX: CLINK!

VAUDE: My fault, my fault BEF your way, New Gack. 

Ganja gets back up. Some blood trickles down from his grinna as he holds his bestus to his mouth. The Fridge walks toward Ganja.

GANJA: Mm… grub! 

Ganja shoots into a barrel roll toward his opposing punching pugilist, allowing him to be in range for a tactic. Ganja launches two jabs. 

GANJA: Tik-Tik! 

The Fridge just takes it to the stomach. He retaliates with a flurry of a tactic. A straight cross and hook to Ganja’s dome. 

FRIDGE: Oyeee! 

SFX: CLINK! CLANK!

The tactic causes Ganja to fall and stumble across the ring like a drunkard hit by incessant tidal waves. Ganja springs back up and poses a front as he slaps his knee like a comedian does when they laugh at one of their own jokes. 

GANJA: Let’s go punk, I am raw!

PLAYA HATA 1: Damn test tube boxa!

PLAYA HATA 2: Ma-an, beat that Gack already!

Back in the corner, Pusha T-Raw attends to Ganja. 

T-RAW: You’re a straight-up dork for playing around like that, Ganja. Just do what we learned ya grinning imbecile, then maybe you can exit stage right without a Meater carrying you out on a stretcher.

GANJA: Man forget those bastards, when I’m in the ring I fight my way for better or for worse!

 T-RAW: The way you fight, you’re lucky if you don’t get Beaten In Peace next round. 

T-Raw looks over his shoulder at The Fridge. He just rocks in his chair, almost possessed.

 T-RAW: This cat is pugil’n at Primetime level. Those rumors of pugilists from Monty Boxa Isle is bred to be a H.O.B may not just be a myth. I’m thinking of calling off The Show.

 GANJA: And how are we gonna respond now, T? By calling it quits when they hit the ol’ grin? Show’s On, so let me put on.

 T-RAW: Using my own rhetoric against me, huh?

GANJA: Reverse physt-cology at its finest.

 T-RAW: Grinning dork. 

The slab is hit. Ganja grins and pats his bestus together three times.

 GANJA: I am raw!

The Fridge and Ganja Grin get in their quick-draw stance. The final BEF is hit. Fridge retracts his arms in a cross-guard stance. Ganja’s indecisiveness creeps in once more as he is unsure what his next move should be. He inches his way in slowly, when Fridge sticks his bestus out, just like the Box Busta videotape. Ganja sees Fridge’s left eye reflect behind the shades through the small window of his hands. Ganja quivers a meek grin at first and then their eyes lock as if some existential truth was revealed in that instant.

 GANJA: I grin ya Seymour, I grin ya. 

Ganja raises his fists in a gun-ho pose, like one of those old-school pugilists from the past. 

GANJA: Getsgo, I am raw! 

Seymour launches a cartoonishly outstretched jab, Ganja evades using ginga. While evading, Ganja puts himself in range to throw a left hook to Fridge’s slab.

 GANJA: Boom! 

Fridge throws a cross. Ganja gingas and throws a right hook. 

GANJA: Bap! 

Ganja attempts to throw an uppercut but whiffs completely in the air doing a backflip. 

GANJA: Pooow-ahhhh!!!

T-Raw shakes the brim of his hat in disappointment. 

T-RAW: Good grin Ganja, he’s twice your size ya Gackass! 

Ganja tries to recover himself from the canvas. T-Raw then shouts from the ropes. 

T-RAW: Ganja ginga out the way! 

Ganja looks behind him to see Fridge close the distance with an uppercut of his own. 

FRIDGE: Oyeee!

In spectacular fashion, Seymour uppercuts Ganja out of the ring entirely. Ganja crashes into the floor, jaw first. 

T-RAW: Ganja!

VAUDE: Ding, that New Gack flew! Betta give him the extended count to keep The Show going a little longer.

Moments later, a figure stumbles back in the ring. Everyone in the crowd looks with incredulity including Pusha T-Raw and Warhol Vaude. The Fridge is unphased. It’s Ganja, with his mug messed up to DAMN as he stands in the ring with a distorted grin. No one even knew at the time what he spoke exactly, but these were essentially the words he muttered. 

GANJA: I am the Ganja Grin! You can beat me, knock me down, and BIP me. But I’ll get back up. And be grinning from ear to ear while doin’ it too!