I sit on my stool. Spit the mouthpiece out. Drink a few sips, spits most of it out, with some blood. My trainer speaks to me, giving me strategems and encouragement.
I couldn't see him.
"Cut me, Lou!"
I could sense his hesitation.
"Cut me! Fucking cut me!!"
A sharp pain on my puffed up eyelids.
I could see Lucifer's worried face.
I grinned at him. What use have I for the Devil's sympathy?
More water on my face.
The bell rings. Somebody shoves my mouthpiece in. I stand up and get a final rubdown from Lucifer.
I see the big, lumbering brute in front of me. His hands shaky, his legs unsteady.
Round Twelve, baby!
And may each of us pay the Devil his due.
