Chapter 8 – Derange Odd Duo

EXT. THE PIT – NIGHT

Warhol Vaude stands in the middle of the ring, microphone in hand.

VAUDE: And that concludes our show for tonight BHITs and BEF fans. We’ll punch you up next Friday! And cut, that’s BEF! 

The egregious Ganja Grin, Pusha T-Raw, and Mad Dokta Q sit in the stands as they get ready to roadi-five-thousand out of the Ptoject BEF complex.

“Guess there’s no BEF for you tonight, dork,” T-Raw lifts his snap in relief. 

Ganja grins, “I’m just too raw.” 

M.D. Q piles on a mouthful of punchy-laid gooey worms. “Ganja, (gob, gob) you’re such a jay, I swear,” as he wipes the residue on the back of Ganja’s hoodie. 

Before they can roadwork out of there, Warhol Vaude faces off with the Grin Unit. The two-tone Warhol jabs, “You there, Grin’N Gackass! I need you to stay pronto for a meeting with the other New Gacks expeditiously!”

The audience vacates The Pit, leaving only Pushas, pugilists, and one Warhol with a hidden agenda. The other Units were as close as intertwined hittas, talking the ounces except for some that seemed to scold Ganja in particular due to his childish antics in the ring. Although The Show had ended, Warhol Vaude maintained his vaudeville stage presence in the ring. 

The fake nose Warhol opens with, “Good BEF tonight New Gacks! The reason why I asked you all to stay is regarding next week’s lineup. I got a Heavy B from the Komptwood Chapter to headline the BEF,”  the Warhol said with a slimy smile, almost like a comedian telling a punchline. Yet no one was laughing, not even a quip from the Ganja Grin’N Bastard himself. “I need five OPPs to BEF the behemoth, any volunteers?” 

Not a single pugilist rushed in to raise their GLUV, until a rowdy New Gack by the stage name of Box-Mayne started talking the ounces. “With all due respect, Mr. Warhol-sir, SUCK MY GLUV!”

“Hoooo-!” Everyone gasps with a mix of incredulity and snickers. 

Warhol Vaude unimpressed, scratches his false nose, “O-K, congratulations Box-Mayne for being my first candidate.”

The New Gack pleased with his response, high-fives his hittas, loosening the proverbial BEF in the heated tension. Warhol Vaude goes on to select two more New Gacks. The Marsupial and BJ Jabby Jay (The BJ stands for Blows Jabs. A common title among Battler pugilists). 

“Eh-and well throw in the Box Vill’n for good measure,” Vaude writes the names down on paper and clipboard. 

Pusha T-Raw attempts a verbal counter, “Slow ya roll Vaude. Ganja is not licensed to BEF a Heavy B, you can’t just throw him in like some sort of petri dish pugilist.”

The crafty Warhol explains to the concerned Pusha that the BEF was sanctioned by Upper Management, so it was out of their GLUV. “Now we need another New Gack, so whose it gonna be?” 

“I’ll tag BEF with them.” A lone figure from the top of the cascade stairs appears. He was scraggly, light-complexioned, with a full goatee, and dreadlocks with two strands that resembled those of floppy rabbit ears. This was the third-highest rank New Gack at the Carswood branch, Jax Jabbit. If anything could be said of his B-Steez it was this: BEF’n with Jax Jabbit is like fighting a jackrabbit in a hall of mirrors. Jabs from everywhere, all at once. 

Jax walks down to join the rest of the group. Some start to murmur to themselves: Why’d he willingly team up with a Test Tube? Others say he was only in it as a masochist, reveling in the pain a Heavy B brought into the ring. Box-Mayne was just too impressed with his verbal jab from before. “Suck my GLUV, Box-Mayne, you’re on one today!”

Vaude concludes with the bravado of a theatre major, “Then the BEF is settled! Four New Gacks and a Box Vill’n BEFs Heavy B pugilist, Tyke Bones!” 

Ganja grins, “ Tyke who?”

“Tyke Bones,” Vaude blatantly answers again. 

“Who?” Ganja stifles a snicker.

T-Raw jab checks Ganja. 

“JMD, punk!” Ganja rubs his arm. 

As the Pushas and pugilists begin to roadwork out, Jax gathers Ganja and the rest of the New Gacks fighting next Friday. “Listen close, meatheads, because I’m only gonna jab this once: The less of you that show up, the better chance I have at surviv’n. So do everyone a favor and don’t come to The Show next Friday.” Jax says the last part as he looks directly at Ganja.

Ganja flicks his chin. “Stop the presses, punk, I eat punches like it’s Mm… grub!”

“If you’re hungry dawg, then eat a biscuit, but do every pugilist a favor and stay out of the way and let me bring the BEF!” the jabbing New Gack and grinning Test Tube face off. 

Pusha T-Raw intervenes and breaks the static. “You two better save that BEF for next Friday or we’re all cooked.” 

On the car ride home, in T-Raw’s Jab’d Up Jalopy, Ganja sits in the backseat, chewing on his grinna and exercising his right to be hostile. “Punk-bastard thinks he’s a future HOB or someth’n!” Where does he come off?” 

T-Raw focused on the road, giving his raw advice, “He’s not wrong Ganja. The closest BEF you’ve had to a Heavy B is Siz the Fridge and he doesn’t have half the slab this Tyke Bones got.” 

Ganja grins, “Tyke who?” 

T-Raw contemplates giving Ganja a jab check, but instead takes a mental note and keeps both hands at the wheel, “Dork.” 

The Grin Unit drops off M.D. Q. “Hey, G-son, give me your grinna,” as he exits the car. 

Ganja takes his mouthguard, hesitating to hand it over. Now at a complete stop, T-Raw jab checks Ganja. The test tube drops the wet grinna in M.D. Q’s hand. Q slips “Come next week, you’ll see- ya Gackass, you could have at least wiped it off first! I’ll holla at y’all later.” 

Back at T-Raw’s Krib, the duo prepares for the upcoming BEF. T-Raw plans out an elaborate Heavy B regiment after stopping at Ring Depot. The resourceful Pusha takes the heavyweight bag and stuffs it five times more than a normal one. By doing so, Ganja could feel with every tactic how thick punching a Heavy B would be. It was as if beating a brick wall wearing bulletproof armor, but just the sheer futility of it all made Ganja not grin. 

“Good grin, T-fool,” Ganja shakes his GLUV away after a jab. “What did you fill the bag with anyway?” 

To simulate the weight of the Heavy B, T-Raw filled the inside with bags of sand mixed with rubber mulch, all courtesy of Ring Depot. T-Raw pats the bag. “If it’s hurting your wrists, I could maybe throw in some sawdust, but Heavy B’s are as tough as Tungsten.” 

T-Raw wasn’t talking the ounces either. Heavy B’s ranged anywhere from six to seven feet tall, with slabs of approximately five hundred pounds. Some say its genetics, but others jab its a result of pugilists with Lace in their bloodstream. 

After heavy bag training, Pusha T-Raw brings out the medicine ball, his favorite.  Simulating the blows of a Heavy B hit to Ganja’s diaphragm.

The real key tactic, however, would be Ganja’s ginga maneuverability. After all, a pugilist can’t BEF what they can’t beat. And Ganja’s ginga was steadily reaching the heights of a drunken master. 

After a week of Heavy B training, Friday appears and the Grin Unit duo meet M.D. Q at The Project Prep Room. Q hands Ganja his new modified grinna. 

“Good googly grin!” Ganja egads.

“I modified it, so you have extra protection on the wired half of your grin.” The Mad Dokta tightens his bandana. “Should help keep those MF screws in place. How does it fit?”

Ganja puts the grinna in his mouth. “Like a GLUV punk, like a GLUV.” 

“Modified or not, still won’t save you from a Heavy B,” Jax jabs by the adjacent locker. 

Ganja mumbles, “What makes you an expert?” 

Jax has a look of gloom on his face, half of it covered in silhouette. “I BEF’d a Heavy B before and trust me, by the end of it, you won’t be grin’N like an idiot.” 

The Grin Unit and Jax Jabbit roadwalk to the arena. When they get there, only Box-Mayne and BJ Jabby Jay are present. The Marsupial was a no-show. The four New Gacks lineup to await being called in the ring.

T-Raw gives Ganja a soft jab, “Jab check Ganja, Shows On.” 

EXT. PROJECT BEF – THE PIT- NIGHT 

Warhol Vaude stands in the center ring, microphone in hand. 

VAUDE: O-O-O-O-One-Two-One-Two, some pugilists’ dreams stay dreams –

CROWD: While others come true!

VAUDE: Welcome BHITS and BEF fans to Project BEF! I’m your Warhol Vaude, blessed with the gift of gab and all that jab! The name of the project tonight is a Heavy B BEF against-

Vaude looks to the corner where the New Gacks are and does a head count. 

VAUDE: Four New Gacks! 

Vaude introduces the New Gacks one by one as they step into the ring. First, Jax Jabbit, followed by Box-Mayne, then BJ Jabby Jay, and last but not least the egregious Test Tube, The Ganja Grin. 

VAUDE: And their OPP from the Komptwood Branch… 

At the other end of the arena, a towering slab of a human boulder emerges from the shadows. Led by three purebred white bulldogs on chain leashes. He wears an overalls singlet with one of the straps busted. Another part of his steelo includes a frohawk fade with tattoos of dogs barking on the sides of his head. Near the forefront of his hair, a bald patch. 

VAUDE: Standing at seven-foot-four, with a slab of five hundred and eighteen pounds… 

CLOSE: GLUV is made with a black rugged leather shell, with the symbol of a dog’s skull and crossbones on it. 

VAUDE: His B-Steez is a Heavy B… and his GLUV is aptly named Dawg Pound… 

The behemoth roadwalks towards the stage with his three chained beasts barking and howling along the way. He chains the dogs to the post of the ring. He pulls down all ropes simultaneously and steps over them. Within earshot, Box-Mayne remarks.

BOX-MAYNE: Whoever gave him that haircut needs to get BEF down, mayne!

Jax looks to the other New Gacks and Ganja.

JAX: Yo, y’all betta come correct or we’re getting Jax’D up. 

Ganja says under his breath.

GANJA: Punk uses his own name as a punchline. What a tool! 

T-RAW: Ganja, you’re such a hypocrite. 

VAUDE: I give you Tyke Bones!

Warhol Vaude stands between the Heavy B and the four other pugilists. He holds the microphone to Tyke Bones.

VAUDE: Dope Dogs. Got stage names for them? 

TYKE: Killa A, Killa B, and Killa C 

VAUDE (Laughs): Dope. Any ounces to talk to your fellow New Gacks?

TYKE: Every pugilist has a tactic until they get Box’D In Peace. 

VAUDE: And with that-

Jax takes the microphone. 

JAX: You know what they say about jackrabbits? Jax be nimble, Jax be quick, and if you wanna jab me on a lick, then I’ll jabbit back on Carswood Central.

GANJA: Corny. 

VAUDE: Well said from the third highest New Gack of the Carswood Branch and let’s-

GANJA: Wait!

Ganja steps to the microphone. 

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

T-Raw tips the brim of his fitted hat down. 

T-RAW: Dork.

M.D. Q: L-Seven. 

VAUDE: Gackass, hmm— and with that let’s BEF!