Corn Dogs
Shaun Jex
His back hunched and his stomach hanging like a pendulum over the large belt buckle he wore, William “The Animal“ Bullock sat on a wooden chair outside of Sunny Acres Retirement home. No longer the physical specimen he’d been in his prime, the tattoos on his arms were faded and his skin looked so thin that it might rip with the slightest bump. He clutched a cigarette between gnarled fingers.
A young man named Jacob Silver sat in a chair beside him. He held a pen and a yellow legal pad in his lap. A freelance writer for Backyard Brawl, he’d come to interview Bullock about his days in the ring. The two had been talking for a few hours and had discussed everything from his days working the territories to the roach motels he’d slept in over the years.
“Where the hell were we?” Bullock quipped.
“You were going to talk some about Mike Pines,” Silver said. “You two travelled together a lot didn’t you?”
Bullock nodded, but remained silent. He stared out at the parking lot in front of the rest home for a few minutes without speaking.
Jacob waited beside him, his pen poised about the paper. He was hesitant to push him to speak before he was ready. A thing like that could shut an interview down.
“I suppose you could say he was my best friend at the time,” Bullock finally said. “Not that we ever talked about stuff like that, but you travel together for so long and you just sorta come to depend on each other.”
“It must have been hard when he died,” Silver said.
“Of a goddamn heart attack,” Bullock said. “Can you believe it? He was too young for that shit. All that talent in the ring and he dies of a heart attack in the squared circle. You know, when it happened nobody believed it was real.”
“What do you mean?”
“They thought it was a joke,” Bullock said. “Mikey was known for his ribs. When he grabbed his chest and fell over everyone thought it was a prank. He was lying there in the ring for a few minutes before anyone went to call a medic. We just kept expecting him to jump up and laugh at all of us for worrying.”
“God, that’s awful,” Silver said.
Bullock nodded and took another drag of his cigarette. He coughed a deep, wet cough that shook his entire body before speaking again.
“Did I tell you about the corn dogs?” he said. “Nah. I’d remember that, and you sure as hell would. It’ll tell you everything you need to know about Mikey. I already told you that he loved a good rib. He was really a pain in the ass about it, but everyone loved it. Travelling the territories to wrestle was exhausting and your body always hurt. To break up the monotony once, he coated the inside of another wrestler’s trunks with BenGay. It was the funniest damn thing you ever saw. The son of a bitch was running around screaming while Mikey laughed so hard I thought he was going to puke.”
“Another time, one of the boys, I think it was Tom Hayes, met up with a prostitute,” Bullock said. “That sorta thing happened pretty often. Now, I don’t know where he got it, but Mikey had a policeman’s uniform. He put it on and showed up banging on the Tom’s motel door shouting, ‘Police! Open up!’ I think Tom musta pissed himself with worry before he opened the door and saw it was Mikey.
He ended up chasing him through the motel parking lot with a golf club threatening to kill him, but of course that was all talk.”
“Sounds like Mikey was a handful,” Silver said.
“And you haven’t even heard about the corn dogs yet,” Bullock said with a laugh. “That’s the best one, although I’m still mad at the son of a bitch for it. We were working a show at some county fair. Not sure which state—they all run together after a while.”
“It was hot as hell that day,” Bullock continued. “The show was scheduled for the afternoon, and we had maybe a dozen people in the audience. I don’t remember much about my match, but I know I was awful. Got booed by the crowd, and it wasn’t because I was getting heat. Still, I didn’t really care. I just wanted to get it over with and move on to the next town. Mikey said he’d go get us some food before we loaded up in the car. He even said he would drive. That should have set off an alarm in my head, but I was too tired to think about it. He was gone for a while, and I was starting to think he’d got lost when he finally showed back up. He had a bag full of French fries and a couple corn dogs. He handed me one and pushed the bag of fries into my hand and then jumped in the car.”
“We started off down the road and Mikey finished off his corn dog in a couple bites. I had been eating the fries and he started pushing me to bite the dog. ‘They’re pretty damn good,’ he says. I picked it up and took a big old bite, and you know what I found?”
“What?” Silver said.
“I’d just sunk my teeth into a battered and deep fried piece of shit!” Bullock said. “Now, to this day I have no idea how he pulled it off. Somehow, he had to talk his way into one of the food stands, take a dump and then cook it up. He must have greased a few palms. I don’t know. I wasn’t even thinking about it then. As soon as it was in my mouth, I started to gag. I rolled down the window and spit it out, right along with everything else I’d eaten that day. I was cursing and screaming at him while I puked and he just laughed his ass off.”
Bullock was smiling, though Jake could see water in his eyes too.
“Sort of like life isn’t it?” Bullock said. “You go to take a bite and end up with a mouthful of it.”
The two sat in silence for a few minutes. Bullock dropped his cigarette on the ground and stomped it out before lighting another.
“That was Mikey,” he finally said. “Son-of-a-bitch.”
Shaun Jex
His back hunched and his stomach hanging like a pendulum over the large belt buckle he wore, William “The Animal“ Bullock sat on a wooden chair outside of Sunny Acres Retirement home. No longer the physical specimen he’d been in his prime, the tattoos on his arms were faded and his skin looked so thin that it might rip with the slightest bump. He clutched a cigarette between gnarled fingers.
A young man named Jacob Silver sat in a chair beside him. He held a pen and a yellow legal pad in his lap. A freelance writer for Backyard Brawl, he’d come to interview Bullock about his days in the ring. The two had been talking for a few hours and had discussed everything from his days working the territories to the roach motels he’d slept in over the years.
“Where the hell were we?” Bullock quipped.
“You were going to talk some about Mike Pines,” Silver said. “You two travelled together a lot didn’t you?”
Bullock nodded, but remained silent. He stared out at the parking lot in front of the rest home for a few minutes without speaking.
Jacob waited beside him, his pen poised about the paper. He was hesitant to push him to speak before he was ready. A thing like that could shut an interview down.
“I suppose you could say he was my best friend at the time,” Bullock finally said. “Not that we ever talked about stuff like that, but you travel together for so long and you just sorta come to depend on each other.”
“It must have been hard when he died,” Silver said.
“Of a goddamn heart attack,” Bullock said. “Can you believe it? He was too young for that shit. All that talent in the ring and he dies of a heart attack in the squared circle. You know, when it happened nobody believed it was real.”
“What do you mean?”
“They thought it was a joke,” Bullock said. “Mikey was known for his ribs. When he grabbed his chest and fell over everyone thought it was a prank. He was lying there in the ring for a few minutes before anyone went to call a medic. We just kept expecting him to jump up and laugh at all of us for worrying.”
“God, that’s awful,” Silver said.
Bullock nodded and took another drag of his cigarette. He coughed a deep, wet cough that shook his entire body before speaking again.
“Did I tell you about the corn dogs?” he said. “Nah. I’d remember that, and you sure as hell would. It’ll tell you everything you need to know about Mikey. I already told you that he loved a good rib. He was really a pain in the ass about it, but everyone loved it. Travelling the territories to wrestle was exhausting and your body always hurt. To break up the monotony once, he coated the inside of another wrestler’s trunks with BenGay. It was the funniest damn thing you ever saw. The son of a bitch was running around screaming while Mikey laughed so hard I thought he was going to puke.”
“Another time, one of the boys, I think it was Tom Hayes, met up with a prostitute,” Bullock said. “That sorta thing happened pretty often. Now, I don’t know where he got it, but Mikey had a policeman’s uniform. He put it on and showed up banging on the Tom’s motel door shouting, ‘Police! Open up!’ I think Tom musta pissed himself with worry before he opened the door and saw it was Mikey.
He ended up chasing him through the motel parking lot with a golf club threatening to kill him, but of course that was all talk.”
“Sounds like Mikey was a handful,” Silver said.
“And you haven’t even heard about the corn dogs yet,” Bullock said with a laugh. “That’s the best one, although I’m still mad at the son of a bitch for it. We were working a show at some county fair. Not sure which state—they all run together after a while.”
“It was hot as hell that day,” Bullock continued. “The show was scheduled for the afternoon, and we had maybe a dozen people in the audience. I don’t remember much about my match, but I know I was awful. Got booed by the crowd, and it wasn’t because I was getting heat. Still, I didn’t really care. I just wanted to get it over with and move on to the next town. Mikey said he’d go get us some food before we loaded up in the car. He even said he would drive. That should have set off an alarm in my head, but I was too tired to think about it. He was gone for a while, and I was starting to think he’d got lost when he finally showed back up. He had a bag full of French fries and a couple corn dogs. He handed me one and pushed the bag of fries into my hand and then jumped in the car.”
“We started off down the road and Mikey finished off his corn dog in a couple bites. I had been eating the fries and he started pushing me to bite the dog. ‘They’re pretty damn good,’ he says. I picked it up and took a big old bite, and you know what I found?”
“What?” Silver said.
“I’d just sunk my teeth into a battered and deep fried piece of shit!” Bullock said. “Now, to this day I have no idea how he pulled it off. Somehow, he had to talk his way into one of the food stands, take a dump and then cook it up. He must have greased a few palms. I don’t know. I wasn’t even thinking about it then. As soon as it was in my mouth, I started to gag. I rolled down the window and spit it out, right along with everything else I’d eaten that day. I was cursing and screaming at him while I puked and he just laughed his ass off.”
Bullock was smiling, though Jake could see water in his eyes too.
“Sort of like life isn’t it?” Bullock said. “You go to take a bite and end up with a mouthful of it.”
The two sat in silence for a few minutes. Bullock dropped his cigarette on the ground and stomped it out before lighting another.
“That was Mikey,” he finally said. “Son-of-a-bitch.”