“I know,” he moaned. “I didn’t really think this one through.”
“Well, you’d better start thinking, because the match is this Saturday,” said Tamiko. “We gotta get you high-tier loot! I’m talking a flaming-blue helmet, diamond-encrusted gloves, ultra-resistant plate armor, teleporting shoulder pads, and why not a little hedgehog companion for fun. Or, you know, something cool like that.”
“But where am I going to be able to get an outfit like that?”
Tamiko rolled her eyes. “Duh. You just need to come up with a kick-butt costume for Big Chew. We can make it ourselves.”
“But I can’t design an outfit,” he protested.
“You can’t design an outfit?” Tamiko sighed and closed her game. She reached over, unzipped his backpack, and pulled out one of his many notebooks.
“Look,” she said, pointing to a random page. Ollie had drawn a picture of Slammin’ Sammy delivering his patented Sam Slam finishing move. Then she turned to another random page. She pointed out a picture of The Bolt uttering her catchphrase.
“Nobody steals The Bolt’s thunder!” yelled the illustrated Bolt into a speech bubble.
“You do this stuff. All. The. Time.” She tossed him the notebook. “You’re an amazing artist. So, what’s the big deal? Make a new design for Big Chew.”
She was right. His drawings of wrestlers filled the corners of nearly everything he owned. They were pretty good, too. And he often embellished them, adding extra stuff from his imagination. Plus, he wasn’t the only one who thought he was creative. Mr. Fitzgerald had said so. So had his mom. Even Hollis was reluctant to say that his drawings were “bad,” which, coming from Hollis, basically meant they were great. Maybe getting an awesome costume for Big Chew would not be so impossible after all.
“Yeah, I can totally do it,” he said. “I’ll draw up the best costume ever.”
“So there ya go,” she said, returning to her game. “Just do what you already do best!”
Ollie made drawing the outfit his number one priority that day. His teachers were accustomed to him doodling all over his tests and homework and textbooks and any spare scrap of paper that floated his way. So he drew up his costume design largely uninterrupted during classes. It took him all morning to finish. He added the final touches the moment the bell rang for lunchtime.
When he revealed his completed drawing to Tamiko at the lunch table, she gasped.
“Is that a good gasp or a bad gasp?” he asked.
“You can call it an amazed gasp,” said Tamiko. She held up the drawing. “That is the single coolest, most awesomest wrestling outfit of all time.”
Ollie had left nothing out. He had started with a basic wrestler singlet. From there, he added a ton of cool accessories, including two large gold gloves, a jeweled crown, a pair of shoulder pads, a huge sparkling belt, golden knee-high boots, leather elbow braces, a red cape draped around the shoulders, and, to top it all off, the words Big Chew emblazoned across the chest.
“I couldn’t decide on one idea,” he admitted. “So instead, I put them all in there.”
“Genius,” said Tamiko. “Maxing out your stats. I love it. Why didn’t I think of that?”
Ollie smirked. He felt proud that his sketch impressed Tamiko. If she liked it, he knew everyone at Slamdown Town would, too.
Tamiko arched her brow. “There is one problem, though . . .”
“What? Is it the boots? I thought about drawing wings on them, too.”
“So first off, do that. Right now,” demanded Tamiko. “But second, you agreed to wrestle for free.”
“Yeah . . .”
“Well, you kinda went all out on this create-a-character thing. Which, again, I love. Don’t change a thing. But I was kinda expecting the outfit to be a lot less . . .”
Flashy? Bold? Ridiculously epic? What problem could Tamiko possibly have with—
“Expensive,” she finally managed.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, dude. How are you gonna pay for this stuff?” she asked.
He doubted Mrs. Ramirez had enough dog-walking needs to pay for even half of what he’d drawn. And he wouldn’t be able to ask his mom for any money. Even if he and Hollis hadn’t just busted the laptop, it wasn’t like they were made of money. Between both her jobs, his mom still made the same diagonally cut tuna fish sandwiches for his and Hollis’s lunch every day. So what was he going to do?
CHAPTER 15
“This day is taking forever!” moaned Ollie to Tamiko.
Tamiko looked up from her textbook. “The first bell hasn’t even rung yet, Ollie.” She was studying for a rumored pop quiz they had later that day in math class while simultaneously tap-tap-tapping away for gold and jewels on her phone.
“Don’t remind me,” said Ollie, raising his fist at the school bell. “Ring, already! Ring!”
His mind had always been on wrestling. But since he was now a real-life wrestler, his attention span at school was nonexistent. The gum had changed him into a wrestler. But it didn’t change the fact that he still needed to go to school.
“We should be out trying to find a costume for Big Chew.” Ollie doodled a mini Big Chew on his homework. “Not doing fractions.”
“Dude. You’re not even doing them, though,” pointed out Tamiko. A sound from her phone signifying success indicated that she had unearthed another treasure chest. She pointed to the shining treasure. “And remember, this isn’t real gold. You still don’t have any money.”
Sure, he had drawn an amazing costume. But a drawing wasn’t going to beat Gorgeous Gordon Gussett in the ring. A full day of classes stood in his way of assembling his costume.
When the first bell finally rang, Ollie was reminded of the ringside bell in the arena that sounded the end of a match.
Later that day, when Ms. Glenbottom raised her hand to silence the class and announce the not-so-surprising surprise pop quiz, her jangling arm bracelets reminded him of The Bolt’s electric arm gauntlets.
And when Mr. Pinkley, his history teacher, asked Ollie who wrote the Declaration of Independence and he instinctively replied “Gorgeous Gordon Gussett,” he was reminded of, well, Gorgeous Gordon Gussett and how he still didn’t have an outfit for Big Chew.
“The Declaration of Independence,” replied Mr. Pinkley, “was most certainly not written by someone named Gorgeous Gordon Gussett.”
Tamiko raised her hand. “Thomas Jefferson did it.”
“Correct. Very good,” said Mr. Pinkley with a smile.
“That one I actually know because of Warriors in Time,” whispered Tamiko to Ollie. “Who says you don’t learn anything from gaming?”
When the end-of-day bell finally rang, Ollie cheered.
“Awesome costume, here I come!”
Later at home, Ollie rummaged through the attic. He looked for any oversize pieces of clothing that he might be able to use for Big Chew’s outfit.
Back when they actually used to hang out together, he and Hollis would sneak into the attic while playing treasure hunt. So he remembered where to find some old clothes that belonged to his mom, his uncle, and his grandparents.
At the time, the clothes had seemed enormous, and to Ollie they still were. But his mom was pretty big. Not Big Chew big, but close. They might actually fit.
There was only one way to find out.
Here goes nothing, he thought as he tossed the gum into his mouth and transformed.
He tried on every piece of clothing in the attic, and by the end of the night had gathered a purple wet suit from his mom’s surfer days, a pair of dusty old snow boots, Hollis’s old football shoulder pads, a pair of mismatched gloves, an unused red shower curtain, a pair of old knee- and elbow pads that his grandma used to wear roller-skating, and a prop crown that his uncle had worn performing in the local theater.
Separately, they were just a bunch of random items that he found in the attic. But together, they could become a costume.
Hopefully.
The
following day in study hall, Ollie showed Tamiko the clothes he had gathered.
“This is great,” she said. She placed the crown on her head and admired herself in her phone. “I always knew I was royalty. We can totally work with this. My dad has a bunch of art supplies that we can use to cut some of this stuff up and make it even more awesome.”
“Shh!” shushed Mrs. Martino. “Study hall is for studying.”
They apologized and pretended to go back to studying.
Tamiko’s dad was an Elvis impersonator. He went to contests and everything, and he had even made his own custom Elvis costume. It looked like the real thing! And he was a pretty good Elvis, too. More important, that meant he had a whole bunch of materials lying around Tamiko’s basement in case he ever needed to repair his outfit.
“I can’t believe you’re actually going to be wrestling Gorgeous Gordon Gussett,” whispered Tamiko. “I think I’d even consider washing Hollis’s dirty tighty-whities for a chance to touch the actual fabric of the prince of fashion’s costume.”
“Yeah. About that . . . ,” he whispered back.
“Please tell me you don’t actually have a pair of Hollis’s soiled underwear on you.”
“No.”
Tamiko looked relieved. “Don’t scare me like that, Ollie.”
“They’re not Hollis’s.”
Ollie pulled a giant pair of his grandpa’s underwear from his backpack.
“My eyes!” shrieked Tamiko. “They burn!” She dove out of her seat, as if Ollie had pulled out a giant bug from his backpack. “It’s like they follow you from everywhere in the room. Put them away! That underwear is staring into my soul and judging me!”
“Ms. Tanaka!” yelled Mrs. Martino. “This is study hall. Not talking hall. Study now!”
“Sorry, Mrs. Martino.”
Tamiko took her seat only after Ollie put the underwear away.
Almost all wrestlers wore underwear as part of their costume. Ollie had suspected that his grandpa’s might just do the trick but then realized he’d have to wear his grandpa’s old underwear to find out. So he figured he’d wait till he was completely out of options before trying. After finding nothing else in the attic that would work, he finally mustered the courage to try them on and, of course, they were a perfect fit.
They were actually pretty comfortable.
Wrestling history ran in Ollie’s family. His grandpa had been one of the people who helped build Slamdown Town Arena. He was renowned for two feats: his ability to lift gargantuan cement blocks and his extreme distaste of buying new clothes. For all Ollie knew, his grandpa had worn this very pair of underwear while laying the foundation of the arena. In a way, wearing them would kind of be like bringing them home.
“Don’t worry,” he reassured her in a whisper. “I washed them on extra hot. And then again on extra, extra hot.”
“No amount of washing will get me to touch those things,” she hissed back.
CHAPTER 16
That evening, Ollie and Tamiko raided Mr. Tanaka’s arts and crafts drawer. It was time for him and Tamiko to make Big Chew’s costume a reality.
First, they used the purple wet suit as the base of the entire outfit. Next, they turned the red shower curtain into a cape. They splashed the snow boots and gloves with gold paint and dunked the shoulder, elbow, and kneepads in a pile of glitter. Tamiko added jewels onto the already-overjeweled crown. And to top it all off, they cut letters out of white construction paper to spell out BIG CHEW and slathered them in glue to make sure they stuck to the chest.
They left the underwear as is. Neither of them, especially Tamiko, wanted to handle Ollie’s grandfather’s ancient underwear any more than they needed to.
They waited until everything was dry and not a moment later.
“Let’s see how it looks!” squealed Tamiko.
Ollie went into the bathroom. First, he transformed into Big Chew. Then he changed into his new outfit. He admired himself in the mirror. Everything looked perfect! He spun around and inspected the cape, the crown, the boots, the underwear . . .
And that’s when it hit him.
Oh, no, he thought. Everyone’s gonna see me in my underwear. He gulped and tried to push the thought out of his mind.
He stepped out of the bathroom and crept down the hallway. He found it a little difficult to move under the weight of all the clothing, but he thought that maybe it was because the stuff hadn’t dried yet. Once it dried, he’d be able to get around without a problem.
“Well? How do I look?” he asked.
“It’s a lot,” offered Tamiko. “Like, a lot, a lot.”
Ollie spat the gum out into his hand and returned to being Ollie. All the oversize clothing fell off him into a heap. “You’re right. It’s missing something.”
“Do you not know what ‘a lot’ means?”
“Professor Pain says that your outfit helps define who you are. Which means that my outfit needs to be big, it needs to be bold, it needs to be exciting! I know that’s not who I am, but it’s who I need Big Chew to be. But more importantly, it needs to be bigger, bolder, and more exciting than Gorgeous Gordon Gussett’s.”
He marched straight over to her dad’s Elvis costume.
“These pants,” he said. He ran his fingers through the pants’ white, glittery tassels.
Tamiko shook her head. “No way, Ollie. Absolutely not.”
“C’mon, Tamiko! These pants are so cool.”
Tamiko crossed her arms. Ollie could tell from the way she was biting her lip that she wasn’t convinced. He knew he was asking a lot from her.
“Look, I get it. They’re your dad’s and everything, but . . .” He looked down, embarrassed. “You know, if I had them, then you and everyone else won’t have to see me in my underwear,” he offered.
“Wrestlers wear underwear, Ollie! It’s kinda their thing.”
“There’s a reason people have nightmares about being out in public in their underwear, Tamiko! I’m not being crazy!”
“Although . . .” She considered this. “You make a solid argument. Those tighty-whities give me the heebie-jeebies.” She eyed Ollie’s grandfather’s underwear and took a dramatic step backward.
“Can I at least just try them on?” asked Ollie.
She sighed. “Fine, but hurry up.”
He transformed back into Big Chew. Then he grabbed the pants and pulled them on. Just as he’d hoped, they fit Big Chew perfectly.
“Ta-da!” he yelled as he struck a dramatic pose.
“They really bring the whole costume together,” admitted Tamiko. “But . . .”
His face dropped. “But what?”
“If anything happens to those pants, I’m dead. Like, seriously dead, Ollie. My dad spent months making that costume. He may love it more than he loves me.”
“I won’t let anything happen to them,” he promised.
She chewed her lip. For what seemed like forever, she said nothing.
“Okay,” she relented at last. “But only as long as nothing happens. And we get them back here right after the match.”
He jumped up and down.
“You got it. There’s no way I’ll lose now,” said Ollie.
“Agreed,” said Tamiko. She stood back to admire the costume. “Gorgeous Gordon Gussett better look out, because there’s a new fashion icon in Slamdown Town.”
Very soon, Ollie would take his first step toward challenging Werewrestler. And once he had the belt, he’d reclaim the Evander family wrestling legacy back from that no-good cheater and give the fans of Slamdown Town someone worth cheering for.
And he’d look good doing it.
CHAPTER 17
The day of the first match finally arrived. When the coast was clear, Ollie shoved the Big Chew outfit into his backpack. Then he quietly snuck down to the garage and stuffed his backpack as far back as he could reach into the trunk of his mom’s minivan.
He hid the backpack without much difficulty. The trunk was crammed full of p
rotein powder kegs, dumbbells, and more sweatpants than he could count. So he tossed it underneath a pile of junk.
They would be leaving for the arena in just a few minutes. Ollie had barely slept the night before. On the one hand, he was ecstatic that he was actually able to wrestle today. On the other hand, he was terrified that he was actually able to wrestle today. Both feelings threatened to make him lose his lunch.
Ollie was just about to hop in the car when Hollis appeared out of nowhere. His brother had apparently attempted to style his hair. Probably to look more mature; to Ollie, Hollis looked like he’d dunked his head in jelly and let it freeze. And the look on Hollis’s face told Ollie he was not going to like what his brother had to say.
“I smell something . . . suspicious,” said Hollis. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” lied Ollie in a panic.
“Now, now. No lying.” Hollis patted his nose. “I’ve trained my nose to detect when someone lies. I read about how to do it online. So why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”
Ollie’s mind raced for an answer. “I was, uh, cleaning out the car?”
Hollis sniffed. “The nose says two things. One”—Hollis held up a finger—“this car hasn’t been cleaned in a long time. And two”—he held up another finger—“that was a big lie. You’re acting odder than usual this morning. In fact, you’ve been acting odder than usual this whole week. And I wanna know why.”
Hollis pushed Ollie out of the way and dove into the trunk of the car.
“Aha! What’s this?!”
Big Chew’s costume was bold. It was sparkly. It was supposed to catch the audience’s attention. And Ollie was sure it caught Hollis’s attention now. His backpack remained unzipped. He noticed the golden boots poking out.
The outfit had done its job—just at the absolute wrong time.
My wrestling career is over before it started!
“Contraband!” shouted Hollis from inside the trunk.
Ollie was already formulating an excuse for why he had stuffed a fabulous wrestling outfit into the back of the trunk. But Hollis didn’t emerge from the trunk holding the outfit.
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