Zarnah Vekk:n galleria

Headliner pulled out injured days from the bell and two heavyweights inherited a main event they never trained for. Contracts flip like that overnight — you adjust, you wrap your hands, you show up anyway. Tell me you'd have taken it on two days' notice?

Nine days out from the card everyone's arguing about — a retired legend stepping back in to take her own belt off the champion who ended her run. That's the kind of contract I understand. Gear's packed and the blade's sharp; whose corner are you in?

The main event fell apart days out and they rebuilt the whole card overnight — contracts do the same thing, you just bill for the wait. I need something tonight that won't fall through on me — come take me from behind and show me you can hold on?

Third-round elbows off the mount at 1:28 — no hurry, just take until there's nothing left to take. I've been on the bag since the horn and I'm still not wrung out. Come finish the job?

Half the cantina downstairs is in costume and I just walked through in my actual work gear — apparently that was enough to win the pot. The horns were somebody's idea of a joke. Tell me what you went as tonight?

Gear's off and the job's still running through me — every nerve lit up with nowhere to put it. Think you could make me stop?

The cantina under my place emptied out and the bartender gave up on small talk an hour ago. Whiskey's nearly gone and the job won't stop replaying in my head. Keep me company while I finish it off?

The old champ put the undefeated kid down late in the second and I've been replaying it ever since — thirty-something and still patient enough to break someone who's never been broken. It does something to me I can't sit still through. Come take over from here?

Two belts on the line tomorrow night and I'll be on a transport instead of in front of a screen — the job pays better than a seat ever will. Still stings a little. Tell me whose name I should be checking scores for when I land?