“Dude,” said Tamiko. “Hollis is a Big Chew fan? Guess I’m going to have to say he’s the worst wrestler ever now. It was fun while it lasted.”
CHAPTER 22
Ollie sat in the back of English class. Mr. Fitzgerald droned on and on about their upcoming group presentations. Or something like that. Ollie wasn’t paying attention.
He was huddled behind his backpack with his nose pressed against the screen of his phone, watching part two of Anyone Can Be a Wrestler. Professor Pain’s voice shouted through his headphones.
“So now that you have your costume, next we’re going over the power of smack talk,” yelled Professor Pain over the music. “Smack talk allows you to get into the mind of your opponent.”
Professor Pain was considered a connoisseur of fine insults. His words bit, stung, jabbed, and berated his opponents. Wrestlers had feared what he might say as much as they feared his raw strength.
“But what is smack talk? It’s carefully analyzing your opponent and using that knowledge to insult not just them but the very essence of their being. We aren’t talking simple name-calling. Anyone can call you a doodoo head or a slackjawed jibberjabber or a fool for choosing a wrestling career over a lucrative partnership at your dad’s pathetic firm.”
To be fair, Ollie doubted anyone would ever call anyone else any of those things (as far as that last one, at least not in the ring). But the Professor knew more than he did, so he listened on.
“Truly astounding smack talk will pick apart the invisible armor wrestlers put around themselves to hide their very real and very vulnerable insecurities. It’s a chance to verbally tear them apart limb by limb without raising a finger. If your smack-talk game is on point, then you’ll almost certainly—”
“Ollie!” said Mr. Fitzgerald. “Phone. Away. Now.”
He’d been caught. He closed the video and tossed the phone into his backpack.
“As I was saying,” Mr. Fitzgerald continued, “you and your partner will be expected to read a short story from the assigned list, write a report on the short story, and then present your report to the class. This is a group project, but you should divide the work equally between each other. Is that clear to everyone?”
The class murmured in agreement. Of course he and Tamiko would be partners.
They always had been since they became friends. They huddled together and thumbed through the list of stories. It wasn’t that Ollie didn’t like reading. He would go home and read about wrestling, followed by more wrestling, every single night. He just didn’t like reading the stuff assigned at school.
“Well, we gotta pick one,” insisted Tamiko. “How about ‘The Deadliest Pigeon’?”
They ended up selecting it because Tamiko’s grandma owned a sassy parrot who could sing television-show theme songs on command. That, and a short story about a murderous pigeon on a revenge quest actually sounded pretty cool. But there was still the problem of having to get up in front of the class and speak.
Even the thought of it made him nervous.
“Your class presentation will be worth a quarter of your grade, so make sure you work with your partner for the rest of the week. And take it seriously. This is a chance for you to work on your reading, writing, and public-speaking skills.”
Later that day, he and Tamiko grabbed stuff from their lockers for math class.
“Let’s get together after school tomorrow to work on the presentation,” said Tamiko.
“Sounds good,” said Ollie. It didn’t but, again, he had no other choice.
Suddenly, Tamiko’s phone buzzed. It was Slamdown Town Arena.
Ollie looked at her. She looked at him. She picked up the phone.
“Hello?” she answered.
“Ms. Manager? It’s Linton Krackle. Fabulously wealthy and successful CEO of Slamdown Town.” Linton sounded as if he were ready to make a deal. But then again, Linton was always ready to make a deal. Provided he came out on top.
Tamiko cleared her throat and lowered her voice. “Yep. It’s me. Ms. Manager. Now, spill it, Krackle! I’m a really important manager with a lot of important people to manage!”
The bell rang. So they walked toward math class while Tamiko continued the call.
“Congratulations on Big Chew’s first win. But one win won’t get the attention of Werewrestler. And things are only going to get more profitable—er, harder—from here. I’ve got another match for your guy this weekend. That is, if he’s still up for it.”
“Who’s the unlucky opponent?” asked Tamiko.
“He’ll be wrestling the viper herself, Silvertongue.”
Tamiko gulped. Ollie felt his palms get sweaty.
“Hello?” asked Linton. “I have other money—er, calls—to make, ya know.”
She covered the phone and turned to Ollie. “Silvertongue. Are we in or out?”
Ollie knew that Silvertongue was going to be twice as difficult as Gorgeous Gordon Gussett, and he’d barely beaten him. Her fists were dangerous, but her words were deadlier. She possessed divine-level smack-talking skills. Time and time again, Silvertongue would disarm her opponent without even lifting a single finger.
Ollie nodded. “I’m in.”
Tamiko screamed into the phone. “He accepts, obviously! And he’ll win! Obviously!”
“Win or lose, I still make money, and that’s what’s most important of all,” said Linton. “Speaking of which, I’ve got a stack of hundred-dollar bills that are just begging to be counted. Wait. These are singles?”
Tamiko hung up the phone just as they arrived in Ms. Glenbottom’s classroom.
“Stop the math presses!” yelled Tamiko as she stood up on her desk. “Big Chew is facing Silvertongue on Saturday!”
The class reacted the same way they always did when Tamiko shouted breaking wrestling news. They winced, massaged their ears, and then went right back to whatever they were doing before. Everyone’s obvious lack of interest never stopped Tamiko, who felt an almost moral obligation to share any tidbit to as many people as possible.
“Shh,” said Ms. Glenbottom. “This is math class. Not wrestling class. And no standing on desks for grand announcements, Tamiko. We’ve talked about this.”
Ollie spent all of math class writing potential smack talk in between pre-algebra problems. He’d never really considered himself that great of a talker. That was kind of Tamiko’s thing. But he’d watched a lot of wrestling and heard a lot of smack talk.
How hard could it be?
That afternoon, he and Tamiko discussed the upcoming match against Silvertongue while they walked Mrs. Ramirez’s dogs around the neighborhood.
“She mentioned that Thespian should consider mime work instead, and bam!” Ollie smacked his fist into his open palm. “He ran sobbing from the ring.”
Tamiko’s eyes shimmered with admiration. “I want to be her when I grow up.”
“There’s no way Big Chew can compete with smack talk of that level!” Ollie knew his strengths, and being mean, intimidating, and insulting were not any of them.
“Glad you said it and not me,” said Tamiko. “Smack talk is one of the most important parts of wrestling. Big Chew needs to ramp up his smack-talk game to the next level. And honestly, a few levels beyond that. Manager’s orders.”
“Well, I have been working on some stuff. Insults and all that.”
He and Tamiko struggled to keep the poodles on the sidewalk as the pack spotted a nearby squirrel—an apparent thrill seeker—that sat chewing on an acorn instead of scampering away in fear.
“You’ve been holding out on me?” asked Tamiko. “Bring on the smack talk.”
He pointed at Tamiko, imagining her as Silvertongue. “You must be hungry. Here’s some food.” He pretended to pull it away. “Psych!”
Tamiko blinked. He waited but received no response.
“Okay. I admit. I was just really hungry for lunch when I wrote that. Let’s see.” Ollie sifted through his notes. “Here’s a different one.” He straighten
ed up. “Do you know why they call me Big Chew? Because I’m big!”
Fake snores and impatient dog whining were the only responses he received this time.
“Huh? What?” Tamiko dramatically looked around, pretending that she had only just woken up. “Oh, hey, Ollie. Silly me. I thought we were here to practice smack talk. Not tell each other bedtime stories, because you literally put me to sleep! Sorry, Ollie. But that smack talk is, well, bad. Like, five-alarm-fire bad. Like, dead-last-in-the-Ninja-Kitty-online-leaderboard bad. What do you think, poodles?”
The poodles all looked up and barked.
“Okay, let’s workshop this,” said Tamiko. She scrunched up her face in thought. “So if I was dishing out smack talk to my opponents—er, victims—I might say something like ‘You must be hungry. Because I’ve got a plate of insults for ya!’”
“Oh! That’s good!” said Ollie, writing down plate insults in his phone while being dragged down the street by his five poodles. “See? That’s the kind of smack talk I need.”
“And maybe something like ‘Do you know why they call me Big Chew? Because I chew up big opponents. Like you!’ And then I’d leap off the top ropes and body-slam them.”
“This is great! Man, if only I was as good as you at smack talk.”
“Well, it’s not that good. It’s just not terrible.” She unraveled one of the doggie doodie bags and leaned over to pick up a fresh, smelly specimen. “As long as your smack talk no longer ends up smelling as bad as this,” said Tamiko as she pinched her nose, “you’ll be good.”
Over the next couple days, Ollie spent every lunch, bus ride, and class coming up with potential smack talk with Tamiko. After school each day, he went to Tamiko’s to work on their presentation and practice smack talk.
They had read the short story together several times and reviewed the question prompts that they had to answer in their report. Well, Tamiko had read the short story several times.
Ollie, on the other hand, had been too focused on coming up with smack talk.
“Ollie, you gotta focus,” implored Tamiko. “This presentation is a huge part of our grade.”
“I know, I know. Sorry. It’s just—”
“—the smack talk. I know. I’m helping ya with that, too, remember?”
She was right. Ollie put the smack talk down for the moment and reviewed the questions with her. They were deep, confusing questions. Questions like:
1. What are the main themes of “The Deadliest Pigeon”?
2. What is the pigeon’s motivation?
3. How do you think the pigeon was feeling when he finally confronted his brother and said, “Coo! Coo!”?
4. What would you have done if you were the pigeon? And why?
Ollie’s eyes glazed over. Why was he reading about stupid pigeons when he should be practicing his smack talk? There were only a few days before his match.
The next day, the smack talk wasn’t going as well as either of them had hoped.
Tamiko demanded he chew the gum and turn into Big Chew every time they practiced. “It’s not remotely scary when you say it. When Big Chew says it, I can feel my heart stop!”
So he’d pop the gum into his mouth, transform into Big Chew, and pretend that Tamiko’s basement was Slamdown Town Arena and that Tamiko was Silvertongue.
“Why aren’t you talking? Cat got your tongue?” Ollie tried. “You know, ’cause her name is Silvertongue.” The realization that they could play on her name was a big breakthrough for him yesterday. But he could tell that it fell flat for Tamiko.
She held her hand up to her heart. “It’s still beating, which means you aren’t insulting me nearly enough! C’mon, dude! Hurt my feelings! Make me cry!”
After their sessions, Ollie tried to get his homework done. But try as he might, every time he sat down to do his pre-algebra practice exam or answer the questions for “The Deadliest Pigeon,” he ended up thinking about smack talk instead.
Part of what made Silvertongue so strong were her words. She used them as a shield, a way to put an unseen wall between herself and her opponents. But what she was able to dish out, she was not so willing to receive. Ollie picked up her weakness after reviewing all her old matches online. Wrestlers who were able to dig into Silvertongue with their own smack talk knocked her off her game. Which was exactly what he would have to do.
If he didn’t come up with better insults, he would never be able to go the distance against Silvertongue.
CHAPTER 23
That night, Ollie stared at himself in his bedroom mirror and glanced down at the note cards in his hand. He looked up into the mirror and said, in his deepest voice:
“What’s on the tip of your tongue? Oh, yeah. My fist.”
He laughed. He and Tamiko had come up with that one earlier today. He shuffled the note cards and found another line that he was particularly proud of.
“You look hungry. Well, here’s my elbow on a silver platter . . .” Then, like Tamiko said he should, he elbowed the air. In the ring, he would elbow Silvertongue’s face.
He took a deep breath and flopped onto the floor. He had been practicing his smack talk—like Tamiko had told him to—all night after dinner. It was getting late and, in addition to practicing his smack talk, he still needed to finish his note cards for their presentation tomorrow. But try as he might, he couldn’t get himself to focus on the boring “The Deadliest Pigeon.” Especially not with his match against Silvertongue only two days away. Sure, smack talk was only one part of his match against Silvertongue. He would still need to actually wrestle her to win. But considering she was the queen of mean, Ollie knew he’d be at a serious disadvantage if he couldn’t fight insults with insults.
He pulled out his phone. Maybe a little break would help.
Wrestling was on his mind, so his fingers naturally brought him to the Officially Unofficial Slamdown Town Fan Club site. Ollie found himself looking at Big Chew’s smiling face as it filled the landing page. The headline “Big Chew: Awesome or Extremely Awesome???” leapt off the screen.
Ollie read Hollis’s most recent blog post:
S’up internet. It’s your favorite mod and number one wrestling FANatic, me, here with some super important news. And that news is Big News. Cuz it’s about Big Chew. AKA the best new wrestler at Slamdown Town. He’s new, and cool, so we’re going to dedicate today’s WRESTLER SPOTLITE to him. Why? Cuz he’s new and cool and
Hollis never proofread his articles, which meant spelling errors and unfinished thoughts were constant. That may have had something to do with why no one new ever visited the site.
Why? Cuz I said so. And also because he’s awesome!!! Did you see him put on that cool display with Good-for-nothing Gorgeous?! He was like OH NO MY COSTUME IS FAILING and then was all like PSYCHE I GOT THIS and then WHAM!! He kicked that crybaby’s butt. He started out with a really cool costume, and then sort of like lost it, which I think was like intentional. Like he was trying to show that COSTUMES WEREN’T IMPORTANT. Deep stuff, folks. Either way, I got an awesome elbow pad out of it, and (DRUMROLLLLLLLLLLLLL) he signed my forehead. aLTHOUGH, total bummer permanent marker isn’t permanent permanent.
In conclusion, extremely awesome. That’s what he is. Because he’s totally not afraid to take on the “supposed” big wrestlers. Silvertongue, you’re gonna be another crybaby just like GGG when Big Chew chews you up on Saturday.
Everybody leave your likes and comments below.
Their mom was, as always, the first to comment below:
This is my son who wrote this. I’m so proud of you! Don’t forget to take out the trash like I asked. Love you. —Mom
Tamiko added her own reply below:
You heard your mom, Hollis. Take yourself outside AT ONCE.
Ollie laughed. If only he could talk smack as easily as Tamiko could. Ollie began to type his own reply, but stopped himself. He was supposed to be working on the presentation, not wasting time online.
Focus, Ollie, focus, he thought.
/>
He tried to work on his presentation, but after a couple failed attempts, he figured he’d grab a snack from downstairs. He couldn’t write note cards for his presentation on an empty stomach! Once he had his snack in hand, he’d totally get to work and finish them.
He exited his room and made his way down the hallway.
As he passed Hollis’s bedroom he stopped and examined the sign on the door.
NO BABIES ALLOWED
Ollie pulled a pen out of his pocket and rewrote the sign to say:
NO BABIES NO OLLIES ALLOWED!!!
He also made sure to turn the drawing of Ollie as a baby into Ollie as a wrestler. It pretty much ended up looking a lot like Big Chew in a diaper.
Then he pressed his ear against the door and listened. It sounded like Hollis was watching a wrestling match on his phone. Suddenly, Ollie heard Screech Holler’s voice:
“That was easily the most impressive debut I have witnessed in years, folks,” declared Screech, his voice brimming with excitement. “This Big Chew is one to watch!”
Hmm . . . , thought Ollie.
Hollis wasn’t watching just any match. He was watching Big Chew’s debut.
Ollie turned the handle, opened the door, and let himself in.
After all, the sign on the door said he was allowed.
The overwhelming smell of body odor that greeted Ollie upon entering reminded him of walking into Slamdown Town. At the arena, it was the sweat of hard-fought victory. Here, it was the sweat of an adolescent teen who refused to shower. The stench threatened to send him running, but Ollie had a job to do. Hollis sat on his bed with his back turned to Ollie, watching Big Chew’s match against Gorgeous Gordon Gussett.
He rewound the ending over and over, watching as Big Chew finished his pin and their mom held his hand high in the air. On Hollis’s desk, Ollie saw the elbow pad he had given him.
Well, the elbow pad Hollis had taken from him.
Slamdown Town Page 11