《Scrapper》 Chapter 1: Going Pro The bus ride was quiet. Johnny ¡°Blood¡± Hanes stared out the window as the city turned to hills and the hills turned to nothing but open road. His duffle bag, still half-packed from the morning, rested against his leg. His nerves buzzed. He tried not to show it. After all, he¡¯d scrapped his whole life ¡ª since he was six years old ¡ª but this was different. This was pro. Fifteen years old and drafted by Team Juice. Only 1% of scrappers made it to this level. Fewer stayed. The facility came into view: a massive building, painted a bright crimson red with the team logo ¡ª a juice box with a fist punching through it ¡ª plastered on the front. Johnny felt his stomach twist. This was it. He stepped off the bus, duffle bag slung over his shoulder, and made his way to the door. Before he could even knock, it swung open. A man stood there. Stocky, built like an old wrestler, with a thick brown beard and piercing blue eyes. He wore a Juice hoodie and cargo shorts, and he walked like he had a permanent limp. This had to be him. ¡°Johnny Hanes,¡± the man said, grinning. ¡°Blood, right?¡± Johnny swallowed. ¡°Yeah. You Coach Doug?¡± ¡°Yup,¡± Doug said, stepping aside. ¡°Come on in, kid. Welcome to Juice.¡± The training room smelled like sweat and ambition. The mats covered most of the floor, faded red and white, and banners from previous championships lined the walls. Johnny spotted a full-size cage on the far side ¡ª a throwback to when Juice tried their hand at MMA ¡ª and a series of benches where four guys were sitting, watching Johnny like hawks. ¡°Hey fellas,¡± Doug said, clapping his hands. ¡°Got your new teammate here. Johnny ¡®Blood¡¯ Hanes.¡± The first to stand was a wiry kid with perfectly gelled hair and a jawline that looked like it belonged on a magazine cover. ¡°Danny Harold,¡± he said, extending a hand. ¡°Pretty Boy.¡± Johnny shook it. Danny squeezed hard. Johnny squeezed back harder. The second was a giant of a man, around 6¡¯5¡± and built like a truck. His cauliflower ear told the story of his years on the mat. ¡°Jack Jones,¡± he rumbled. ¡°Sledgehammer.¡± Stolen novel; please report. The third was the polar opposite ¡ª lean, smooth, with a sharp gaze. ¡°Nod Jackson,¡± he said. ¡°Fancy.¡± Johnny shook his hand, but his eyes landed on the fourth guy. The room seemed to give him a bit more space. Broad shoulders, thick frame, and a quiet confidence about him. ¡°Kent Flame,¡± he said simply. ¡°Fireman.¡± Johnny froze. The Fireman. The guy who was fighting in the main event of the Scrap-Off next month against the former world champion. Kent just gave him a small nod. Doug clapped his hands again. ¡°Alright, enough pleasantries. Blood, let¡¯s talk rules. You probably know ¡®em, but I wanna make sure you know ¡®em our way.¡± Johnny dropped his bag and listened close. ¡°Pure grappling. No strikes. None. You throw a punch, you¡¯re done. Got it?¡± ¡°Got it.¡± ¡°Takedowns are three points. Clean takedowns. If you plant a guy on his back and control him, that¡¯s three. You let him up, and he escapes, that¡¯s a point for him.¡± Johnny nodded. ¡°Reversals ¡ª you know what those are, right?¡± ¡°Yeah. If I¡¯m on bottom and I flip it on him ¡ª two points.¡± ¡°Good. Near submissions ¡ª three points. I mean close. If his face is turning purple or his arm¡¯s about to snap, that¡¯s three. You finish it, match is over.¡± ¡°Pins?¡± Johnny asked. Doug grinned. ¡°That¡¯s what they say you¡¯re good at. Both shoulder blades touch the mat ¡ª match is done. Doesn¡¯t matter if it¡¯s ten seconds in or ten seconds left.¡± Johnny could feel the other guys watching him. ¡°In a duel match ¡ª which is one-on-one like you¡¯ll do on cards ¡ª you got four rounds. Two minutes each. In a tournament, it¡¯s three rounds. Tie goes to sudden victory. First point scored wins. Got it?¡± ¡°Got it.¡± Doug leaned in a bit. ¡°There¡¯s five weight classes. You¡¯re in 125. You¡¯re the first Juice scrapper in that weight class in three years.¡± Johnny¡¯s stomach dropped. ¡°Why¡¯s that?¡± Doug laughed. ¡°Because we couldn¡¯t find anyone good enough. You¡¯re the first one worth drafting. So don¡¯t blow it.¡± After an hour of paperwork, Doug led Johnny to the mats. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s roll.¡± The guys lined up. Doug pointed. ¡°Blood, you¡¯re in with Pretty Boy.¡± Danny grinned, already taking off his shirt. His physique was insane ¡ª thick muscles and veins, like he lived in the weight room. Johnny swallowed hard. ¡°Ready?¡± Doug asked. ¡°Ready.¡± ¡°Scrap!¡± Danny shot like a cannon, going for a double-leg takedown. Johnny sprawled, hooked his arm, and spun behind for the two-point reversal. Doug laughed. ¡°Nice!¡± Danny growled and exploded to his feet, getting his escape point. It went like that for two minutes. Danny stronger. Johnny faster. When the round ended, Johnny had won 5-4 on points. Danny looked pissed. ¡°Rematch.¡± Doug shook his head. ¡°Nope. Blood¡¯s got work to do. Everyone hit the showers ¡ª except you, Blood. You and me gotta talk.¡± Johnny sat on the mat, still catching his breath, as Doug knelt beside him. ¡°Look,¡± Doug said. ¡°You¡¯re talented. Quick. Smart. You pin guys fast. But that¡¯s not gonna work up here. These guys don¡¯t get pinned fast. You can¡¯t just be a hammer. You gotta be a craftsman.¡± Johnny nodded. ¡°I¡¯m not throwing you to the wolves yet,¡± Doug continued. ¡°The other four ¡ª they¡¯re all scheduled for the Semi-Annual ESPN Scrap-Off in three weeks. One duel match each.¡± Johnny¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°They¡¯re on a card?¡± Doug nodded. ¡°Danny¡¯s got some chump. Nod¡¯s got a dude ranked like 200. Jack¡¯s fighting a freakin¡¯ ex-MMA guy. But Kent¡­¡± Doug whistled. ¡°Kent¡¯s fighting number four in the world. Former champ. That¡¯s the main event.¡± Johnny felt his throat tighten. ¡°Damn.¡± ¡°And you,¡± Doug said, standing, ¡°ain¡¯t fighting. Not yet. You ain¡¯t ready. Give me three months of training. Then I¡¯ll get you a match. Sound fair?¡± Johnny exhaled. ¡°Yeah. Sounds fair.¡± Doug grinned. ¡°Good. Now hit the showers. Tomorrow, we build you into a scrapper that can actually hang in this room.¡± As Johnny headed for the showers, he could hear Danny grumbling to Nod. ¡°Kid just got lucky.¡± But Johnny didn¡¯t care. He was here. And he wasn¡¯t leaving. Chapter 2: Beginning The arena was massive. Johnny could barely keep his mouth from hanging open as Team Juice walked through the private entrance of the ESPN Scrap-Off. The ceiling was so high it felt like a dome, and the roar of thousands of fans already buzzing in anticipation filled the air like electricity. Banners for some of the top scrappers in the world hung from the rafters, and the mat ¡ª a bright white canvas with the ESPN logo ¡ª sat in the middle like a gladiator pit. ¡°Damn,¡± Johnny muttered. Kent, walking beside him, chuckled. ¡°First time at a real card?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Johnny admitted. ¡°Place is insane.¡± ¡°Get used to it,¡± Kent said. ¡°Someday you¡¯ll be scrapping in one of these.¡± Johnny swallowed hard. The weight of that truth hit him. He was still weeks away from even getting his first match. Meanwhile, his team ¡ª Danny, Nod, Jack, and Kent ¡ª were about to walk into the biggest card of the year like it was just another day. ¡°Alright, fellas,¡± Coach Doug called, motioning them toward the tunnel that led to the warm-up room. ¡°We got three hours before the card starts. First match is Danny¡¯s. Let¡¯s get him ready.¡± The warm-up room smelled like stale sweat and adrenaline. Thick mats covered the floors, and different teams occupied sections of the room. Team Juice settled in, and almost immediately, Danny Harold started peacocking. ¡°Yo,¡± Danny grinned, cracking his neck. ¡°I¡¯m gonna put this dude out in the first round.¡± ¡°Focus,¡± Doug snapped. ¡°He¡¯s only four ranks below you. He¡¯s not a scrub.¡± Danny snorted. ¡°Larry Balls? Yeah, okay. Dude¡¯s got a gimmick name. He¡¯s cooked.¡± Johnny knew Larry Balls by reputation ¡ª a 22-year-old scrapper who fought out of Tennessee. His nickname was Super Boy because of his flashy Superman-themed singlet, but the guy could wrestle. Johnny didn¡¯t love Danny¡¯s overconfidence. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Kent leaned over. ¡°What¡¯s your prediction, Blood?¡± Johnny shrugged. ¡°If Danny stays disciplined? He wins easy. If he showboats¡­¡± ¡°¡­He blows it,¡± Kent finished. Thirty minutes later, it was time for walkouts. The team lined up in the tunnel as ESPN¡¯s cameras flooded the arena. The lights dimmed, and the announcer¡¯s voice boomed. ¡°Fighting out of Knoxville, Tennessee! Ranked number 109 in the world ¡ª Larry ¡®Super Boy¡¯ Balls!¡± The crowd gave a decent pop as Larry walked out in his red, white, and blue Superman-style singlet. He looked sharp. Focused. This wasn¡¯t his first big stage. Danny, still oozing cockiness, bounced on his heels. ¡°Dead man walking.¡± The announcer spoke again. ¡°And his opponent! Fighting out of Los Angeles, California! Ranked number 105 in the world ¡ª Danny ¡®Pretty Boy¡¯ Harold!¡± Danny strutted out of the tunnel like he was a movie star. Shirtless, flexing, his bleach-blonde hair slicked back. The crowd¡¯s reaction was mixed ¡ª some cheers, but a lot of boos. Danny fed off it. He had a signature look ¡ª a pink silk robe and a matching pink snapback hat that said Pretty Boy across it. As he passed the crowd barrier, he smirked, pointing at his own name on his hat. And then it happened. A fan ¡ª a kid, maybe 16, wearing a Super Boy T-shirt ¡ª lunged forward and snatched the hat off Danny¡¯s head. Danny froze, disbelief washing over his face. ¡°Yo!¡± The kid grinned, taunting him. ¡°Super Boy! Super Boy!¡± Danny lost it. ¡°Gimme my hat, punk!¡± He lunged. Hands on the barrier, reaching over to grab the kid¡¯s shirt. The crowd gasped as security rushed in, but Danny wasn¡¯t letting go. ¡°Give me my hat, you little¡ª¡± Suddenly, Coach Doug was there. ¡°HEY!¡± Doug grabbed Danny by the ear. Hard. Danny winced. ¡°Ow! Coach, what the¡ª¡± ¡°What the hell are you doing?!¡± Doug barked, still yanking his ear. ¡°You¡¯re about to scrap on freakin¡¯ ESPN and you¡¯re picking fights with teenagers? Are you stupid?¡± ¡°He stole my hat!¡± Danny protested. ¡°I don¡¯t care if he stole your mom, you idiot!¡± Doug dragged him back down the tunnel. ¡°You¡¯re embarrassing yourself and the team. Now shut up and get back in the tunnel. We¡¯re restarting your walkout.¡± Danny fumed, but Doug didn¡¯t let go. ¡°You hear me? You wanna blow this match over a hat?*¡± ¡°¡­No.¡± ¡°Then pull your head outta your ass and go handle your business.¡± Doug finally let go and stormed off. Danny adjusted his hair, still burning with anger. Johnny leaned to Kent. ¡°You think he¡¯s gonna choke now?¡± Kent shook his head. ¡°Maybe. Depends how mad he is.¡± The second walkout was¡­ less glamorous. Danny walked out, no robe, no hat. Just his singlet. His face was still red from anger, and his cocky smirk was gone. The crowd continued to boo, and Larry Balls stood in his corner, laughing. ¡°He¡¯s already in his head,¡± Johnny muttered. Doug crossed his arms. ¡°Yup. Let¡¯s see if he can get out of it.¡± The ref called them to the center of the mat. The crowd noise intensified. ¡°Scrappers ready?¡± Danny cracked his neck. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± Larry grinned. ¡°This gonna be fun, Pretty Boy.¡± ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ll see,¡± Danny growled. The ref raised his hand. ¡°Scrap!¡± The match had begun. From the corner of his eye, Johnny could see Doug. Arms crossed. Face blank. But Johnny had spent enough time around him to know what that look meant. Doug was pissed. ¡°He¡¯s gonna kill Danny in the back if he blows this,¡± Johnny muttered. Kent chuckled. ¡°Yup.¡± And Johnny couldn¡¯t help but think ¡ª if I ever get my shot¡­ I ain¡¯t blowing it like that. This was pro scrapping. And it was already wild. Chapter 3: Danny vs. Larry (Part 1) The ref¡¯s hand dropped. ¡°Scrap!¡± Danny exploded forward like a cannon. ¡°There he goes,¡± Johnny muttered under his breath, watching from the corner with his team. Danny shot in with a lightning-fast single leg, his hands wrapping around Larry¡¯s calf, driving his shoulder into Larry¡¯s thigh. It was textbook, and for a moment, it looked like Danny was about to put Super Boy on his back in the first five seconds of the match. But Larry wasn¡¯t a scrub. ¡°Sprawl! Sprawl!¡± Larry¡¯s corner screamed. Larry immediately sprawled his hips back, smashing his weight down on Danny¡¯s head and stuffing the shot. Danny grunted, still holding the leg, but his position was collapsing. ¡°Get behind him!¡± Larry did exactly that ¡ª he slid his arm around Danny¡¯s waist, popped his hips, and spun around to Danny¡¯s back. The ref¡¯s hand shot up. ¡°Takedown! Three points, red!¡± The crowd popped. ¡°Damn it!¡± Johnny hissed. ¡°Come on, Danny!¡± ¡°What did I tell you?¡± Doug grumbled, crossing his arms. ¡°He¡¯s too cocky. Thought he¡¯d run through him like a chump.¡± Larry now had Danny¡¯s back, his chest pressed on Danny¡¯s spine, trying to sink a hook in. Danny growled, fighting the hands off his wrist. ¡°Move, Danny!¡± Doug barked. ¡°Don¡¯t sit there!¡± Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Danny gritted his teeth. ¡°I got it!¡± And then ¡ª he exploded. Danny hit a hard switch, popping his hips and turning into Larry. In one smooth motion, he rolled Larry over his shoulder and reversed the position. The crowd gasped as the ref signaled it. ¡°Reversal! Two points, blue!¡± ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± Johnny shouted, pumping his fist. Danny now had top control, sitting in side control. His face still burned with anger, but he was back in the fight. The scoreboard now read: Larry Balls: 3 Danny Harold: 2 ? Danny didn¡¯t waste time. He transitioned to north-south, then quickly spun around to Larry¡¯s back again. Larry tried to post up, but Danny snatched his neck and slipped in a rear naked choke like lightning. ¡°Choke! Choke! Choke!¡± the crowd screamed, realizing Danny might finish it. ¡°Squeeze that thing, Danny!¡± Doug roared. ¡°Put him to sleep!¡± Danny cranked the choke. Larry¡¯s face turned red. His arms flailed. His legs kicked. The ref hovered over them, ready to stop the match if Larry tapped. ¡°Oh my god,¡± Johnny gasped. ¡°He¡¯s got it.¡± But Larry wasn¡¯t done. He twisted his hips and exploded backward, forcing his shoulders to the mat and rolling out of the choke. Danny almost caught him again but lost his grip. Larry scrambled to his feet and backed away. The ref threw his hand up. ¡°Escape! One point, red!¡±* ¡°Damn!¡± Johnny groaned. ¡°That was so close.¡± ¡°And Danny gets a near submission,¡± the announcer said. ¡°That¡¯ll be three points for Team Juice and one point for Larry Balls for the escape. That brings our score to: Danny Harold ¡ª 5. Larry Balls ¡ª 4.¡± Danny jumped to his feet, shaking his head in frustration. ¡°He was done,¡± he muttered. ¡°I had him.¡± ¡°Focus!¡± Doug screamed. ¡°It¡¯s a long match, dumbass!¡± ? The ref reset them in neutral position. Danny¡¯s face was burning with embarrassment now. Getting reversed. Losing the choke. This wasn¡¯t how he imagined it. I¡¯m gonna smoke this dude. I¡¯m gonna smoke him right now. The ref clapped. ¡°Scrap!¡± Danny blasted forward. This time, it wasn¡¯t a single leg. It was a blast double. Danny threw his head into Larry¡¯s chest, wrapped both legs, and ran through him like a freight train. The crowd erupted as Larry slammed to his back. ¡°Takedown! Three points, blue!¡±* ¡°YEAH!¡± Danny roared, slamming his fist into the mat. But he didn¡¯t stop there. Danny hooked an underhook and drove Larry¡¯s shoulders to the mat. The ref¡¯s hand shot up again, beginning the pin count. ¡°One!¡± ¡°Two!¡± ¡°Three!¡± ¡°Four!¡± Larry just managed to bridge out, avoiding the pin, but it didn¡¯t matter. Danny had held him for four full seconds ¡ª the max for a near pin. ¡°Four near pin points, blue!¡± The scoreboard now read: Danny Harold: 12 Larry Balls: 4 ¡°LET¡¯S GOOO!¡± Danny shouted, chest pounding, throwing his hands in the air. The round ended. The buzzer sounded. The crowd roared. Danny jogged back to his corner, his swagger now fully returned. ¡°He¡¯s done,¡± he grinned. ¡°I¡¯m smokin¡¯ this dude.¡± Doug didn¡¯t look impressed. ¡°You¡¯re up by eight. You should¡¯ve finished him.¡± ¡°I will.¡± Danny laughed. ¡°Second round, he¡¯s toast.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t get cute,¡± Doug warned. ¡°If you choke again, you¡¯ll make me look like an idiot on ESPN.¡± Danny just smirked. ¡°I got this, Coach.¡± In the corner, Johnny watched it all. Danny was ahead by a mile¡­ but something didn¡¯t sit right with Johnny. Because he¡¯d seen Danny lose matches just like this before. And something in Larry¡¯s eyes¡­ He wasn¡¯t done. Not even close. ? End of Chapter 3. Chapter 4: Danny vs. Larry (Part 2) The second round was about to start. Danny was bouncing in his corner, his signature smirk glued to his face. ¡°He¡¯s cooked,¡± Danny muttered, glancing at Johnny. ¡°You see that? I¡¯m killin¡¯ this dude.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t get cocky, Danny,¡± Johnny warned. ¡°Coach told you ¡ª¡± ¡°Man, please,¡± Danny scoffed. ¡°I¡¯m up fifteen to four. He ain¡¯t doin¡¯ nothin¡¯ to me.¡± Coach Doug grabbed Danny by the shoulder, his voice low but sharp. ¡°Finish the match. Don¡¯t play around.¡± ¡°I got it, Coach. Relax,¡± Danny said, shrugging him off. ¡°I¡¯m havin¡¯ fun out there.¡± Doug¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°That¡¯s when you lose.¡± The ref brought them back to the center of the mat. ¡°Round two! Scrap!¡± Danny didn¡¯t waste time. He hit a quick hand fight ¡ª snap-down, fake shot ¡ª then bam he hit a perfect slide-by, effortlessly slipping around Larry¡¯s side and locking his waist from behind. The crowd gasped at how smooth it was. ¡°Takedown! Three points, blue!¡± The scoreboard now read: Danny Harold: 15 Larry Balls: 4 ¡°Woo!¡± Danny laughed, riding Larry¡¯s back. ¡°Man, this too easy!¡± This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. ¡°Stay sharp, Danny!¡± Doug yelled from the corner, his voice tense. ¡°Don¡¯t mess around!¡± Danny didn¡¯t listen. Instead, he hooked Larry¡¯s leg and rolled him into a cradle. Larry grunted as Danny locked his hands behind his knee and neck, folding him up like a lawn chair. The ref dropped, beginning the near pin count. ¡°One!¡± ¡°Two!¡± ¡°Three!¡± ¡°Four!¡± ¡°Four near pin points, blue!¡± The crowd exploded. Danny popped up, smirking like he already won. The scoreboard now read: Danny Harold: 19 Larry Balls: 4 ¡°Sheeeeesh!¡± Danny laughed, wagging his finger at the crowd. ¡°He¡¯s DONE! Somebody get me my check!¡± ¡°Danny, FOCUS!¡± Doug shouted, his face turning red. ¡°Put him away!¡± ¡°I¡¯m puttin¡¯ on a show, Coach!¡± Danny grinned. ¡°This is what they came to see!¡± Doug clenched his jaw. ¡°You¡¯re gonna blow it¡­¡± Danny could¡¯ve kept him down. He should¡¯ve kept him down. But instead, Danny stood up and waved his hand. ¡°Get up, boy. I¡¯m feelin¡¯ generous.¡±* The crowd gasped. Johnny¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°What the hell is he doing?¡± ¡°Escape! One point, red!¡±* The scoreboard now read: Danny Harold: 19 Larry Balls: 5 Larry stumbled to his feet, his face still red from the near choke earlier. His breathing was heavy. But his eyes¡­ his eyes looked different now. Danny laughed, waving his arms. ¡°C¡¯mon, Superman. Show me somethin¡¯.¡±* ¡°He¡¯s gonna blow it,¡± Johnny muttered. ¡°He¡¯s gonna freakin¡¯ blow it.¡± Danny dropped into a low stance, playing around. He did a little shuffle with his feet, grinning. ¡°C¡¯mon, man. Take a shot or somethin¡¯.¡±* Larry didn¡¯t bite. Danny rolled his neck, then suddenly dropped for a low single. He grabbed Larry¡¯s ankle and tried to run through it ¡ª but Larry sprawled again. They scrambled hard, rolling and twisting, neither of them gaining control. ¡°Keep scrambling!¡± Doug roared. ¡°Don¡¯t get lazy!¡± Danny laughed as they scrambled. ¡°He¡¯s done, Coach! Chill out!¡±* Larry posted his hand and hit a whizzer, almost throwing Danny off balance. Danny managed to hook his leg and pull him back down ¡ª but no points were scored. The scramble continued, bodies twisting like snakes. ¡°Fifteen seconds left!¡± the announcer said. Danny tried to suck the leg in again ¡ª but Larry slipped out. They returned to their feet, circling. ¡°Seven seconds left!¡± Danny shot one more time, but Larry stuffed it again. They locked up and time expired. BZZZZZZZZZT! Round two was over. The crowd clapped, but the energy was weird. Even though Danny was dominating, it was like everyone felt the momentum shift. Danny strutted back to his corner like he already won the match. ¡°Dude¡¯s dead in the water,¡± Danny grinned. ¡°I¡¯m just playin¡¯ with my food now.¡±* Doug looked livid. ¡°You let him up on purpose?¡± ¡°Yeah, bro, I¡¯m puttin¡¯ on a show,¡± Danny laughed. ¡°It¡¯s ESPN, Coach! I can¡¯t just pin him quick. This is my highlight reel.¡±* ¡°You idiot¡­¡± Doug muttered. ¡°You just gave him hope.¡±* ¡°Hope?¡± Danny scoffed. ¡°I¡¯m up 19 to 5! What¡¯s he gonna do, pin me?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Doug said coldly. ¡°He is.¡±* Danny froze for a second. ¡°Nah¡­¡± Doug¡¯s face was stone cold. ¡°You forgot what I told you? Overconfidence kills.¡±* Danny brushed him off. ¡°I¡¯m good, Coach. Chill.¡±* Doug didn¡¯t say anything. He just stared across the mat¡­ at Larry. And something about Larry¡¯s face made Johnny¡¯s stomach turn. Because Larry didn¡¯t look defeated anymore. He didn¡¯t look tired. He looked¡­ hungry. ¡°Third round¡¯s comin¡¯ up,¡± Doug said coldly. ¡°And Danny? If you blow this lead ¡ª I¡¯m gonna make you regret it.¡±* End of Chapter 4. Chapter 5: Danny vs. Larry (Part 3) Danny was still grinning as he walked to the center of the mat. His swagger was oozing. ¡°One more round, boys!¡± the ref called. ¡°Scrap!¡±* ¡°Time to put you away, little bro,¡± Danny smirked, bouncing on his feet. Larry didn¡¯t say anything. His face was cold. Focused. Danny shot immediately. A lightning fast blast double ¡ª textbook. His shoulder drove through Larry¡¯s waist and BOOM, they hit the mat hard. ¡°Takedown! Three points, blue!¡±* The scoreboard now read: Danny Harold: 18 Larry Balls: 5 ¡°HA!¡± Danny cackled as he popped up. ¡°Too easy, man! This ain¡¯t even a fight anymore!¡±* But then¡­ Danny did it again. He let Larry up. ¡°Escape! One point, red!¡±* 18-6. Coach Doug¡¯s face twisted with rage. ¡°WHAT ARE YOU DOING, DANNY?!¡± ¡°Relax, Coach!¡± Danny laughed. ¡°I¡¯m puttin¡¯ on a show! I¡¯m gonna hit somethin¡¯ crazy for the finish ¡ª like a flying armbar or somethin¡¯!¡±* This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°Danny, END THE MATCH!¡±* Doug roared. ¡°You¡¯re playin¡¯ with fire!¡±* Danny waved him off. ¡°Bro, chill out!¡±* Danny jogged back to the center, his hands loose at his sides. ¡°Alright, bro, you still in this?¡±* Larry said nothing. He just stared. Danny grinned. ¡°Aight. Watch this.¡±* He faked a shot, then ¡ª for no reason at all ¡ª did a cartwheel. The crowd cheered at the flashiness. ¡°OOOOOH!¡±* But in the same instant ¡ª BAM! ¡ª Larry exploded. A perfect blast double right through Danny¡¯s gut. Danny HIT THE MAT hard, his back instantly exposed. ¡°WHOA!¡±* the crowd gasped. ¡°Takedown, red! Three points!¡±* Danny tried to turn his hips ¡ª but too late. Larry was already hooking his arm and scooping his head. ¡°NO! NO NO NO NO¡ª¡± Danny panicked. Larry ripped him over. Danny¡¯s shoulders hit the mat. The ref dropped. ¡°PIN! PIN! PIN!¡±* The whistle screamed. ¡°MATCH OVER!¡± The arena exploded. Danny¡¯s face went ghost white. ¡°NO. NO. NO. NO. NO.¡±* The ref waved his arms. ¡°Winner, Larry Balls! By pin!¡±* Danny didn¡¯t move. He just stared at the ceiling, completely frozen. He was 18-5 ¡ª and just got pinned. ¡°NOOOOOOOO!¡±* Danny screamed, pounding the mat. ¡°NOOOO! I HAD HIM! I HAD HIM!¡±* Coach Doug didn¡¯t say a word. He just shook his head and walked toward the tunnel. Johnny was frozen. ¡°¡­he just blew it.¡±* ¡°I HAD HIM!¡±* Danny screamed, grabbing his hair. ¡°I WAS GONNA STYLE ON HIM! I HAD HIM DEAD!¡±* The crowd was losing their minds. Larry jumped to his feet, pumping his fists. ¡°LETS GOOOOOO!¡±* Danny finally got up, his face pure horror. ¡°Wait ¡ª WAIT! I WANT A REMATCH! I WANT A REMATCH!¡±* The ref ignored him. ¡°Winner by pin ¡ª LARRY BALLS!¡±* The crowd was deafening. Danny looked like he saw a ghost. And Johnny? He just realized what Coach Doug meant. Overconfidence kills. Danny walked toward the tunnel, his face completely broken. His mouth was moving, like he was talking to himself. ¡°I had him. I had him. I had him.¡±* Doug was waiting at the tunnel. Danny froze when he saw him. ¡°Coach, I ¡ª¡± Doug didn¡¯t say anything. WHACK! Doug smacked Danny upside the head. Not hard ¡ª but enough. ¡°You¡¯re a moron,¡± Doug said coldly. ¡°Go sit down. We¡¯ll talk later.¡±* Danny¡¯s mouth opened ¡ª but no words came out. He just hung his head and slumped past Doug. Johnny watched him walk away. ¡°Damn¡­¡± ¡°He deserved it,¡± Kent muttered beside Johnny. ¡°He had him dead. Started playin¡¯ around. He deserved it.¡±* ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Johnny mumbled. ¡°But it¡¯s still hard to watch.¡±* Doug turned toward the rest of Team Juice. ¡°Let this be a lesson to all of you ¡ª I don¡¯t care how much you¡¯re winning by. Don¡¯t ever ¡ª EVER ¡ª get cocky in a match. Because it can be taken from you in an instant.¡± He looked dead at Johnny. ¡°You understand me, Blood?¡± Johnny swallowed hard. ¡°Yes, sir.¡±* End of Chapter 5.