ONE GLUV
Somewhere in the corners of Project BEF, a Lace Head mounts an unguarded fence. The shady OPP slips and dodges any sign of a spot-punchful eye. His other half, streaks somewhere (without any GLUVs on, if you catch my jab) throughout the complex of Project, making a Show of his own with Pugil Police roadworking in hot pursuit.
“We talked about this before Korn-Box, keep your cornmeal inside the canvas!” the lawful pugilist verbal krosses. Apparently a repeated tactic used by the Lace’N pugilist.
It was thirty minutes before, The Show. Unbeknownst to Project BEF residents, this was just a clever one-two silhouetted scheme. The one, a tactic in physical humor. The two, a kross in deception. The real Show was going on in the Prep Room where GLUVs were checked. It wasn’t until all the commotion died down that some New Gack knew what was up. Korn-Box’s other half, Boxed-Bread, committed a sin against the very code of BEF: stealing another pugilist’s bestus.
Grace, the acting beat-director for the Chapter, gathered the cast of New Gacks, Warhols, and Pugil Police for a rambunctious verbal combination of curse krosses and jab threats. “And what in Goe do you mean, no one can find their GLUV, ya Gackass! Did the Gost Fades lights out everyone and shove it up their back-BEF?”
“Please rest in the corner, Ms. Beat-Director,” the usual verbal tactic of a Pugil Police procedure in pugilism theft. “We’ll try to further telegraph the situation and see if we can spot-punch the prime pugilist… or pugilists in question.”
“Bloxay-bloxay blah! Kross a bizgut, you plastered G-Bag! I got roughly fifteen minutes before The Show and none of my pugilists have their GLUV so you can- wait, perhaps your squad can be so kind as to lend some of yours– just for tonight?”
“These GLUV’s are standard issue Ms. Beat-Director, laced with electrical incapacitation attachments and should not be used for commercial purposes–”
“Well then, you can suck some back BEF, you one-ounce G-Bag!” The Beat-Director ends her verbal tactic.
“Cook it, don’t BEF it, honey-slip. Why not just cancel The Show for tonight?” a naive New Gack whisper-slips to his pusha partner.
Without missing a beat, Grace teleheard this and roadwalks over. She jab checks the New Gack in the throat with the hardest jab check any Battler could imagine. “Are you Lace’N? The Show hasn’t been canceled since the BEF of ’92 when most of you New Gacks were still wearing sixteen-ounce GLUV! You know what happens when we don’t put on? Our lights go out. Our silhouettes, extinguished. We get replaced with a new roster of New Gacks and Warhols, you dig? So how about next time, before you verbal slip some advice, you shove it up ya back BEF!”
Warhol Vaude interjects, “Gra-Hrrm…Ms. Beat-Director, please allow my council. One Gluv is a very popular Project in the Ring-City of Bon G. Beach. Perhaps our pugilists could put on, The Show, in that regard.”
Intrigued, the honey-slip Beat-Director gave a nod to her top-earning Warhol’s answer.“Mmm… once again, Vaude-My-Ville, your gift for gab delivers a tasteful jab. And who are the New Gacks you had in mind for this lineup?”
“Well, I’ll give you a hint… one is a Gackass, Ms. Beat-Director.”
Somewhere in the parking lot of The Project, the Grin Unit arrives on pugilists’ time.
“BEF is bond ya Grinning Bastard, ya always got us showing up late!” M.D. Q quips. “No wonder we get fined so much on our invoices!”
“A future HOB never arrives on Pusha time. They know how to make an entrance, ya jab me?” Ganja grins. “Besides, it was that punk with the shades and suit that made us take a detour at the entrance. Tell him T-man!”
“I’ll jab ya alright, Ganja,” Q contests. “It was really because you were spot-punch’n to look slippingly good for Bonita. What you didn’t telegraph is that she had to work another Meater shift tonight, ya dive-palook!”
Pusha T-Raw gets an alert on his Side-Box, a punch -activated messenger device capable of telegraphing information at a whim. He jab checks Ganja in the arm. “We need to roadwork to The Pit pronto! Oh, and Ganja it looks like you’re gonna BEF with one GLUV tonight.”
“JMD punk, One Gluv!” Ganja egads.
Box Check. Shows On.
INT. THE PIT – NIGHT
Lights On. Center ring. Warhol Vaude with the microphone delivers his usual intro and gift of gab formalities.
VAUDE: Alright BEF and honey-slip fans, tonight we’re gonna do something a little bit different than our regularly scheduled BEF. The name of the Project is One GLUV! Each pugilist dawns a bestus on their rear hand and try to Beat In Peace their OPP. Now, allow me to introduce tonight’s lineup!
The Grin Unit prep in their corner. Pusha T-Raw wraps Ganja’s bestus with rope and a cloth-like material.
GANJA: Good googly grin! What is this stuff?
T-RAW: Knotted cord. We have to lace it to your bestus in tradition of the sport it shadows tactics from.
GANJA: Well, who am I to jab tradition up?
T-RAW: A dork.
M.D. Q: A half-steppa.
GANJA: Pusha punks!
Ganja’s Opposing Punching Pugilist enters the ring. Wearing a sleeveless black leather long coat over his slim albeit toned slab. His signature steez consisted of a tamed afro that descended into a regal warrior’s ponytail with crocodile scars ingrained on his forearms.
VAUDE: And The Ganja Grin’s OPP, a former sand diver from the Ring-City of Bon G. Beach. His B-Steez, a Breaker that’ll turn your slab into dust! The bestus he uses is aptly named O’Konquerer. Now allow me to introduce this New Gack, Diamond Diggs!
The Ganja Grin and Diamond Diggs face-off center ring. Diamond with his arms crossed in a superior manner, while Ganja grins egregiously at him.
DIAMOND: Such a disgrace. The Project should be no place for grinning cowards.
GANJA: You BEF your battles your way and I’ll grin ‘em mine, punk!
Warhol Vaude roadwalks to give instructions.
VAUDE: Box Check, Shows On. The Show is the same as always, just a different scenario. Callout stage names, use dialogue and catchphrases. Bestus hand only. You can grapple each other, but if you clinch for an extended period of time, I will intervene. And you will… get invoiced ya jab?
DIAMOND: No jibbity, no joob.
GANJA: Good googly grin! How in the name of Goe am I supposed to jab?
VAUDE: Not my problem… Gackass. Hrrmm-ok, Shows On! I wanna see grinnas rollin’.
The Ganja Grin and Diamond Diggs get into a variation of the First Fist stance. Their lead bestus hand bare and maskless, while their dominant is in full costume. The raw slab is hit. Diamond spears an arched right towards Ganja’s grinna. Ganja gingas out the way and retaliates with an overhead right that moves like molasses. Diamond evades without effort. The two get caught in a clinch. Diamond digs O’Konquerer into Ganja’s left-side slab. Ganja grunts. Warhol Vaude intervenes and breaks them apart. Diamond glares at Ganja.
DIAMOND: I WILL BREAK YOUR SLAB, THEN THAT GRIN.
Ganja winces at first, then grins.
GANJA: Mmm…grub. Melon La-BEF punk!
The reaction triggers Diamond as he lunges toward Ganja. The Grin’N Bastard is still dazed from the punch to the slab, but is caught off guard indefinitely when Diamond grapples his pugilist shield. Diamond digs a right bap to Ganja’s slab. Ganja takes a knee. The slab is hit and the pugilists go to their corners. The Grin Unit goes to work on Ganja.
M.D. Q: Your right Tok is too slow, Ganja. You betta switch tactics L-seven, otherwise your slab is cooked!
GANJA: Grin and grits, its hard to find my rhythm without my jab.
T-RAW: Focus dork. Vaude said to use your bestus hand only. He didn’t say anything about not switching stances.
GANJA: What are you implying?
M.D. Q: You do it on purpose don’t you? Bein’ a Gackass. It’s just an act right?
T-RAW: Q, chill. Ganja, stop being a dork and go flip mode on your stance.
GANJA: Grin grin. I am raw!
The raw slab is hit. Ganja switches his stance using his right bestus as his lead. Unaccustomed to the stance, Ganja launches a flurry of Tiks. Diamond uses lateral movements to evade them all.
DIAMOND: To get hit by a Test-Tube, would be an insult.
Diggs goes on the defensive as Ganja gains ground with his flip mode stance. As soon as Ganja gets overconfident, Diamond grapples Ganja’s spear hand and jackhammers into his slab. A few hits land, then he grabs Ganja by the mug. Ganja utilizes the tactic he learned from Sage, then spins out the way. The Grinning One rebounds off the ropes and lands an erratic right at Diamond’s mug. A shadow looms over Diamond’s face. The light to his cave filled with an intense heat that crystallized in the form of his bestus.
DIAMOND: Suffer my tactic, Blud Diemond!
Diamond Diggs grabs Ganja by his braids and delivers hooks to his slab.
VAUDE: Box Check! Foul on New Gack: Diamond Diggs, for an inappropriate grapple. Ganja Grin, do you want to continue The Show?
Ganja gathers himself from the canvas
GANJA: No grin, I’ll go back to my corner.
Back in the Grin Unit’s corner, M.D. Q gets ice packs from the bucket and puts them on Ganja’s slab. Pusha T-Raw paces back and forth thinking to himself.
T-RAW: His temper is nothing short of coal being pressurized to form his namesake.
GANJA: Grapple’N Goon, if this were a real BEF-
M.D. Q: You’d still be getting your back-BEF krossed up!
GANJA: Shut up punk! Ah–my ribs are on fire.
T-Raw immediately grabs the bucket where the ice packs were kept and dumps it on Ganja.
GANJA: Good googly grin!
T-RAW: Now Diamond should have a difficult time trying to grapple you.
Ganja grins.
GANJA: T, you’re the best Pusha a pugilist could jab for!