Capitalist Boxer II: Customer Service
By Dragon
Elaine gives a new meaning to the term "customer service".


It had been three years since the night I met Elaine. Three years 
since she had battered my body and my bank account. But she hadn't 
lied about the value of her services. Not a day passed that I didn't 
think about her, and how she had effortlessly handled me.

It didn't help that one of the reminders from that night was my old 
car that I couldn't afford to replace. Or the way my jaw popped as I 
ate my food because she had broken it. I couldn't forget her even if 
I wanted to. She even had her own message board on the Diana the 
Valkyrie web site entitled "Elaine, Female Fighter For Hire". Every 
day I would visit her board and read her business-like responses 
that I had come to find so irritating. 

So it might not come as a surprise to you what I did when I won the 
lottery. Some people might have rushed out and bought that Dodge 
Viper. Some people might have called a travel agent and booked a 
cruise around the world. But when I heard them call out the last 
matching number on my ticket, I leapt into the air with my arms 
raised high and screamed, "Rematch!"

I rushed right down to the lottery office the next day to claim my 
prize. A few other people had won, but my share still came to over 
two and a half million dollars. The next thing I did was to quit my 
job. I had other plans for my time. As soon as I got home, I sent 
Elaine an e-mail with my phone number. I sat by the phone for nine 
hours before she finally called. 


I picked up the receiver, and gave the customary, "Hello?"

"Yes, this is Elaine. You sent me an e-mail inquiry?"

"Yes Elaine, I'm Frank Hill. We had a boxing session about three 
years ago. Remember?"

"Frank Hill, hmmm. Give me a second while I punch you up on my 
computer."

I sat there fuming as I heard her long fingers expertly typing. I 
hadn't been able to sleep for the last three years without thinking 
about that night, and the bitch didn't even remember my name.

"Oh, there you are. It's nice to hear from you again Frank. How's 
your jaw?"

"It's fine now. I'd like to set up another session with you."


"I'm glad to hear that. Repeat customers are the cornerstone of a 
successful business. So what are you looking for? I still offer 
boxing, kickboxing, wrestling, and martial arts matches, plus I've 
added an Ultimate Fighting Championship style match. Which will it 
be?"

"I'm looking for another boxing match."

"OK, my rates have gone up since your last time. It's now a three 
thousand dollar minimum plus expenses."

"Money won't be a problem."

There was an extra second of silence after my last statement. I had 
finally said something that had made an impression on her.

"Well then, lets get you scheduled. When and where would you like 
to meet? I've got my own private ring in LA if you can make it out 
here."

"If it's OK with you, I'd like to meet where we had our last 
session. About three months from now."

I could hear her pecking away at her keyboard again for a moment.

"Hmmm, Johnson's Motor Lodge outside of Las Vegas, room one 
eighteen. Well, if that's what you really want, I can be there on 
the second of September, Eight PM."

"That'll be fine Elaine."

"Excellent. I'll require a two thousand dollar down payment to 
reserve that date, non-refundable. I accept cash, money orders, 
travelers checks, and all major credit cards..."



After ironing out the financial details with Elaine, I went to 
sleep. I still thought about her, but this time I was dreaming about 
winning our rematch. 

The next day I shopped around and found a boxing gym with a good 
reputation for producing real fighters. At first, none of the 
trainers wanted anything to do with me, but a stack of hundred 
dollar bills quickly changed their minds. Elaine wasn't the only 
capitalist in the boxing biz.


That afternoon I was in the ring with a huge Irishman named Clancy. 
We were sparring so he could see what he had to work with. Using the 
basic boxing skills I had learned in the Navy, I threw a left jab 
followed by a right cross. Clancy bobbed out of the way of the jab, 
came inside of the cross, and sat me down on the canvas with a short 
uppercut. It was the third time in as many minutes that he had put 
me down.

Looking down at me rubbing my jaw, he said, "Are you daft lad? My 
baby sister can box better than that. You suck."

It was a revelation to me. I was daft! His baby sister probably 
could box better than me! Elaine hadn't beaten me because she was 
superior to me. She had beaten me because I sucked at boxing!

Letting Clancy help me up off the canvas, I asked, "Could you make 
me a good boxer in three months?"

Clancy thought a moment and replied, "To make you a good boxer would 
take at least a year. But if you're willing to train hard and do 
exactly what I say, I can make you a hell of a lot better than you 
are now."

"Deal," I said as we shook hands.

I trained like an Olympic athlete for the next three months. And 
Clancy was true to his word, I was better than I had ever been. He 
had been telling the truth about another matter also. His baby 
sister really could box better than me.

She was a big boned, red headed girl in her early twenties named 
Maureen. She was fair skinned like her brother, with a sprinkling of 
freckles on her cheeks. She was about five seven, one hundred and 
eighty pounds. Most people would have probably mistaken her for 
being pudgy. But they wouldn't say that after being in the ring with 
her. She hit like a mule.

Maureen was registered as a professional fighter, but was frustrated 
due to a lack of opponents in her weight class. She had only two 
fights in her career, and had won them both easily. I never got a 
chance to spar with her myself, but I witnessed her humiliate more 
than one man in the ring. 

The three months flew by. Truly motivated, I did even more than 
Clancy told me to. There were several days that he had to throw me 
out so that I wouldn't hurt myself. But it paid off. On September 
second I took an early flight to Las Vegas. I was ready to rumble.



So there I was after three years in the same hotel room, listening 
to the hum of the overworked air conditioner, and waiting for 
Elaine. But this time things would be different. I fantasized about 
knocking her out. As she regained consciousness, it would be me 
waving my money over her prostrate form asking, "Can I have another 
match?" And at some point during the evening, Elaine would turn down 
my money, crying, "No mas!" As it turned out, she did turn down my 
money, but not for the reason I had been anticipating.

Elaine arrived right on time the way I knew she would. As I opened 
the door, I was instantly captivated by her beauty. She wasn't 
wearing the glasses that she had the last time I met her, and her 
big brown eyes sparkled with wit and intelligence. The way she 
carried herself, even just standing there as she was, conveyed that 
aura of strength and confidence that had left such an impression on 
me.

Her face was darker than it had been, as she now sported a rich 
brown tan. Tussled masses of long black hair spilled down her broad 
back and shoulders, contrasting with the white cashmere warm-up that 
she was wearing.

Despite her beauty, she could never have worked as a model. Her face 
just narrowly missed the proportions that would have allowed her to 
grace the covers of fashion magazines along with thousands of other 
generic beauties. Instead, those differences elevated her past 
society's ideal of perfection, and put her in a league of her own.

Elaine extended her right hand towards my face. It appeared to me 
like she was reaching out in slow motion. Her fingertips brushed the 
underside of my chin, and she gently closed my mouth.

"Are you going to invite me in Frank?" she asked with an amused tone.

"P-please come in," I said as I stepped aside, mentally kicking 
myself for acting like an idiot."

"It's been a while since I've been here. God, that's a long drive. 
Nowadays, most of my clients either come to my private ring, or fly 
me out to them. I think this is the last time I'll be doing this. 
Well Frank, are you just going to stand their staring at me, or are 
you going to help me with my equipment?"

"Does it cost extra to stare?"


"Ordinarily no, but the way you're looking at me, I think I should 
be charging you."

Following her outside, I started to help drag her mats inside from 
her truck. A traveling salesman type from the room next door chose 
that moment to get something out of his car. Elaine gave him a 
"howdy" as she took another mat section into my room. 

The man grinned knowingly at me and said with a Texas accent, "I'll 
bet you're in for a wild ride partner."

"You have no idea," I replied.

"I don't suppose that when you're done with her, you could send that 
fine looking filly over to my room?" 

"Why don't we ask her? Hey Elaine, Tex here might be interested in 
your services."

Coming back out of my room, Elaine sauntered up to the big Texan and 
wrapped an arm around his neck.

"Well now stud, you'd like some of what he's getting?"

"Yes mamm!"

"Exactly what he's getting?" she asked, while she played with the 
man's string tie.

Looking at the mats, and the oddly shaped bags of gear, and then 
back at Elaine, his smile broadened, and he replied, "Hell yes!"

"Well Tex, I don't come cheap. If you want what he's getting, it'll 
cost you three thousand bucks, just like he's paying."

"Damn woman! Is it made of gold?"

Hooking a finger in her zipper-ring, she slowly pulled her top open 
to expose her muscle enhanced cleavage, as she said, "No Tex, it's 
not made of gold. It's made of flesh... and muscle... and sweat..."

Me and Tex were both closely following Elaine's motions. 

It was getting pretty clear to both of us that she wasn't wearing 
anything under her jacket, when Tex blurted out, "Good God woman! 
Enough! I'll pay your price!"

Reaching into one of her bags, Elaine pulled out a pair of twelve 
ounce gloves and handed them to the puzzled Texan.

"OK Tex, I'll knock on your door in a couple of hours. Make sure 
that these gloves are the only thing you're wearing."

"That's the kinkiest thing I've ever heard! I'll be waiting."

As the Texan returned to his room, I said, "You aren't actually 
going to box with him, are you?"

"Hell yes. You heard him contract me for the same service you're 
getting. Besides, you don't think I'm going to let him keep a fifty 
dollar pair of gloves, do you?"



As I helped Elaine pad the room, I asked, "Did you get that tan at 
the beach?"

"Yep, it was sort of a working vacation. A client of mine flew me 
down to Jamaica. Every morning I'd meet him on the beach wearing a 
thong bikini and greased with enough cocoa butter to lube an 
aircraft carrier. Then we'd roll around in the sand wrestling. After 
about ten minutes, he'd be lying on the beach trying to keep his 
heart from exploding. Of course, I looked like a powdered doughnut 
when we were done, but I think that's what he really wanted. The 
rest of the day was mine."

After Elaine and I padded the room, she excused herself to change in 
the bathroom. When she emerged, she was wearing a white sports bra 
with a matching pair of red striped shorts. Taking a seat on the 
bed, she reached behind her head and gathered her hair into a loose 
ponytail. As she worked, I could see her biceps jumping up and down 
on her arms with each motion of her wrists. She finished up by 
securing her hair with a red bow.

Next she wrapped her hands and inserted them in her gloves. As she 
secured them with a velcro strap, an unruly lock of hair popped out 
and flopped in front of her left eye. She tried to push it back with 
her gloved hands, but it just kept dropping back down in her face. 
After half a dozen tries, she gave up.

While she had been in the bathroom, I had stripped and put on a pair 
of red boxing shorts, taped my fists, and put on my gloves. As I 
waited for her to finish her preparations, I did a little shadow 
boxing to warm up.

"Have you been practicing Frank?"

"As a matter fact I have. I think I'll do a little better than 
thirty seconds this time."

"Well lets find out."

The round timer started with a "ding" and I started stalking her. 
Elaine looked like she had gained a bit of mass in the last three 
years. She still wasn't overtly muscular, just powerful and 
athletic looking.

As I closed on her, I could see that she wasn't looking directly at 
me, her eyes were crossed as she stared at that loose hair. Then she 
started trying to blow it to one side.

I lowered my guard and asked, "Are you ready?"  

"That's what the bell means," she replied.

I raised my guard again. But rather than engage me, she lowered her 
head and tried to swat the lock out of the way with little left 
crosses.

I watched her for a few seconds before I said, "Are you sure you're 
ready?"

"Yes Frank, we aren't going to get very far if you don't try to hit 
me."

Under different circumstances, I would have found her behavior 
incredibly cute, but in this situation, I was beginning to find her 
attitude a bit annoying. Stepping up to the plate, I threw a huge 
roundhouse right guaranteed to make her hair a secondary problem. 
Half ducking, half leaning back, Elaine casually avoided my punch. 
Twisted off balance as I was, I looked over my right shoulder just 
in time to see her left hand streak towards the side of my chin like 
an arrow.

The next thing I knew, I was trying to get to my feet, but my legs 
collapsed, and I sat down heavily on the floor. Looking up, I saw 
Elaine with her back turned to me resetting the round clock.

Turning towards me Elaine said, "Sorry Frank, only twenty four 
seconds. And I think it would have been about eight if you hadn't 
spent so much time talking. Remember, time is money."

There's only so much of that kind of talk a man can take from a 
woman, and Elaine had a talent for instantly reaching that point. 

"If you'd like to go again..."

"I know, I'll cost me five hundred dollars."

"Actually, it's fifteen hundred now. But you've got the right idea."

"Fine."

Despite all of my training, Elaine had put me down and destroyed my 
confidence with one punch. I felt my chest tighten as we closed. 
She flicked a left jab at me and I raised my right glove to block 
it. She tried again with the same result. I fired a punch of my own. 
It didn't land, but I thought that she had reacted a bit slowly. She 
tagged me with a moderately hard body shot that bounced off of my 
newly hardened abs. Blocking a left hook to my head, I caught her 
with a straight left. It didn't connect too hard, but it showed me 
that she wasn't invincible. 

My confidence growing again, I threw another jab, and then followed 
it up with a right hook. Instead of ducking or blocking, Elaine 
stepped in toe to toe with me. My punch wrapped around harmlessly on 
her back. Our eyes locked from less than a foot away. She had her 
left hand held up, protecting the side of her face, but I couldn't 
see her right. I found out less than half a second later what it had 
been doing as I found myself involuntarily looking at the ceiling. 
Like a bad roller coaster ride, my head came back down and dove 
towards the mat with my body following. The blue of the mat filled 
my view as my forehead made contact with the floor. One bounce, and 
I saw black. When I regained consciousness and rolled over, I saw 
Elaine standing over me twirling her hair.

Seeing that I had returned to the world of the living, she said, 
"Well Frank, you did a lot better. You almost made it a minute this 
time. I assume that you'd like to go again?"

"Damned straight!" I snapped.

I rested a few minutes more before I got to my feet. Motioning my 
readiness, Elaine stopped playing with her hair and came after me. 
Using a move Clancy had taught me, I threw an angry roundhouse right 
at her head, as she ducked it, I pulled my fist back and immediately 
sent it back to where Elaine's head should be popping back up. The 
move did seem to catch her by surprise, but she still managed to 
stop before her head had risen in line with my punch. I watched as 
she stood frozen, her eyes following my glove as it whizzed 
harmlessly over her head. 

"Shit!" I thought, knowing what was coming next. Without getting up, 
Elaine jammed a hard straight left into my stretched rib cage. 
Believe me, it didn't tickle. Retracting my arm, I tried to 
backpedal away from Elaine before she could follow up, but she was 
quick as a cat. My retreat turned into a backwards stumble as she 
pursued me with a left jab. My back hit the wall where the dresser 
had been. I covered up just in time to avoid a rain of punches on my 
face. I tried to move sideways, but Elaine kept me trapped with 
hooks to my sides. Desperate to escape, I lowered my shoulder and 
charged into her.  

Elaine caught my shoulder with her crossed forearms. Digging in with 
her runner's legs, she stopped me dead. I swore I caught a flash of 
anger in her eyes as she pushed me away from her. Crouching down, 
she returned the favor with an explosive shoulder to my chest that 
would have made a running back proud. My feet left the floor, and I 
went flying into the wall with a crash so hard, a picture fell down 
on the opposite side of the room. 

My arms flew apart leaving me completely defenseless as I rebounded. 
"Whap! Whap! Whap!" Elaine put her whole body into a 
right-left-right combination that turned the lights out for me.

I choked as I regained consciousness with the stench of smelling 
salts filling my nostrils. Elaine was leaning over me looking 
slightly concerned. I attempted to get up, but Elaine held me down 
with a hand on my chest.

"Sorry about that Frank, but I thought we were following Marquis of 
Queensbury rules. If you had wanted a UFC fight, you should have let 
me know ahead of time. I'm afraid I'm going to have to fine you a 
thousand dollars for that little stunt if you want to continue." 
After a few minutes she said, "Another match?"

I realized that I'd probably never beat her in a fair fight, even if 
I trained for a thousand years. But at this point, beating her was 
more important to me than how I did it. 

Remembering what we had done in our first encounter, I said, "How 
about we skip right to trading head shots?"

Elaine shook her head and said, "Sorry Frank, I was young and stupid 
when I used to do that. But you can buy an advantage."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you can wear lighter gloves than I am at a cost of five 
hundred dollars per ounce, per match, up to a maximum of four 
thousand if you want to go bare knuckled."

I hadn't been able to hit her so far, so I didn't see what good that 
would do me.

"Anything else?"

"For ten thousand, I'll fight you with my left hand behind my back, 
fifteen for my right. Or for twenty thousand, I'll restrict my 
punches to your body."

"How much for both hands behind your back?"

Elaine sighed with exasperation and said, "Frank, I'm one of the few 
women in the world who is willing to face a man in competitive 
boxing matches. Competitive means that I take the chance that I 
might lose every time I lace on the gloves. And if I lose, a man 
might beat the shit out of me. I'm willing to take that risk. But 
there's not a snowball's chance in hell that I'm ever going to roll 
over and just let somebody beat the shit out of me for 
money, as if I were a common street whore. It's not worth it, and I 
don't appreciate you asking."

"I'm sorry Elaine. I wasn't thinking. How about we try it one 
handed. You use your left."

Elaine nodded, put her right hand behind her back, and hooked her 
thumb under her waistband, between the crack formed by her firm 
buttocks. 

"Is this easy enough for you?" she asked in a condescending tone.

"Maybe," I replied non-committally.

We met in the center of the room. I circled towards her unprotected 
right side. I threw a cautious punch at her and she dodged to the 
right. I fired a left and watched her twist out of the way. I was 
beginning to see why this cost so much. Elaine could avoid my 
punches, but she wasn't in much of a position to attack. 

I made it past the first round this time. I didn't really catch her 
with anything solid, but she hadn't hit me at all. It looked as 
though I might have a chance now.

The second round started much the same as the first. Elaine circled 
away from me in a clockwise direction as I pursued her vulnerable 
side. Halfway through the round, I thought to myself, is she doing 
what I think she's doing? She is! She's only got one arm, and she's 
using it to play with her fucking hair!

Seeing an opportunity, I started circling clockwise towards her left 
side. Elaine use the opportunity to throw a few defensive jabs at 
me. I continued following her, waiting for what I knew was coming. 
There she goes! As Elaine brushed the hair out of her face again, I 
waited for the moment that her eight ounce glove was blocking her 
vision and... "Pow!!!" My straight right punch hit her glove, 
sending it smashing into her forehead. She didn't go down, but she 
did stagger backwards shaking her head.

"Good one Frank, I didn't see that coming."

She hadn't learned her lesson either I saw, as she started messing 
with that lock again a minute later. Creeping towards her, firing 
some obviously telegraphed blows, I waited for another window of 
opportunity. I didn't have to wait long. As her glove again 
momentarily covered her eyes, I put my whole body into a straight 
right that would give me my first victory. Without even looking at 
me, Elaine pivoted out of the way on her right foot. As my punch 
sailed past her. She smashed the center of my face with a straight 
left of her own. Not giving me a chance to recover, she stepped 
towards me and bounced an uppercut off of my chin that sent me to 
the mat. 

As I sat there with the room spinning around me, she said, "I'm 
impressed Frank. Only my more observant clients fall for the hair 
fake."

I wasn't accepting any compliments as I exclaimed, "You bitch!!!"

Elaine had a big smile on her face as she said, "I was wondering how 
long you could hold out. You know, that really used to bother me, 
but I've learned to take it as a compliment on my abilities. Thanks 
Frank."

"Boxing whore!!!"

"That's right Frank. And I average over thirteen thousand dollars 
per hour when I work. How much do you make?"

"Your mother!!!"

"My mother could kick your ass inside of five rounds. If you'd like 
to schedule a match with her, I'll give you her number. But in the 
meantime, would you like another shot at me?"

"I've fucking had enough! How about we cut the bullshit. I want a 
one more match. I want to go bare knuckled, you're restricted to 
body shots, and I want a one round head start."

"Excuse me? What do you mean by a head start?"

"I can hit you, but you can't hit back during the first round."

Elaine looked thoughtful for a few moments as she calculated the 
expected value of my request.

"That's not bad Frank. If this works out, I might just start 
offering head starts to my other clients. But it won't be cheap. 
The combination of what you're asking for with a multi-advantage 
discount will cost you fifty grand."

"I'll pay it."

"OK Frank, why don't you rest up for a few more minutes while we 
talk about payment. I don't doubt that you intend to pay me, but 
your credit report indicates differently."

"My credit report is a little out of date. You see that briefcase 
over there. Open it."

Elaine picked up the aluminum case that had been resting near the 
bathroom door and placed it on the bed. Clicking the latches, she 
opened it and was confronted with a hundred thousand dollars in 
cash. I had expected at least a bit of surprise. Instead, the bitch 
calmly started counting it.

"It's one hundred thousand dollars," I said.

Elaine didn't stop counting until she had flipped through the last 
stack.

"You're right, it is a hundred thousand. What? Did you win the 
lottery?"

"As a matter of fact I did."

"Hey, if you don't want to tell me, that's your business. Lets get 
started."

I stripped off my gloves, revealing my rock hard taped fists that 
had pretty much gone unused until this point. My plan was simple. I 
would take advantage of my head start in the first round to get 
close and work her body to slow her up and lower her guard. If she 
was even still standing by the second round, I would take advantage 
of the fact that she had to get close to hit me and go headhunting. 

Round one almost went according to plan. Elaine held her gloves high 
to protect her face, and tried to use some fancy footwork to stay 
away from me. Not having to worry about defense, I chased her around 
the room firing punches at her tight, flat stomach. And I was 
connecting. I caught her solidly with at least a dozen punches that 
I was able to put everything behind. When Elaine sensed that one of 
my fists was about to impact, she hunched towards me as her abs 
contracted. Her stomach went from flat to curvy as a double trunk of 
muscle, five inches wide and six inches tall, bulged forward to 
meet my fist. My taped hand hammered her over her glistening 
bellybutton where streaks of sweat had rolled down from her 
cleavage. She would grunt a bit as my punch thudded home, but it 
felt as though I was punching the side of a truck tire. 

The few punches I landed on her sides were met with a similar 
response. She would twist into my punch, causing her side abdominals 
to contract, revealing the dimples where they met her front 
abdominals. The thin layer of fat padding her kidneys would scrunch 
up into little ridges, with tiny beads of perspiration lining the 
valleys of her tanned flesh. My fist landed in this region with more 
of a smacking sound, and her grunt was a little higher pitched, but 
the effect was much the same - none. 

Only once did I get any satisfaction in that first round. She zigged 
when she should have zagged, and I connected with a right to her 
kidneys that elicited a tiny yelp. And as a tribute to her boxing 
skill, she never let me hit her there again, even though I was 
trying. Elaine looked a bit relieved at the end of that first round. 

"You hit pretty hard Frank. If I do offer a head start in the 
future, they're not going to get it with a bare knuckles match."

Gee, I had pounded her torso for two straight minutes, and all I had 
succeeding in doing was making her think about her business. I also 
realized that my head start was over.

She must have read my mind as she said, "It's my turn now."

Round two set the standard for the rest of the fight. Elaine pressed 
me closely like I thought she would. But being the excellent 
technician that she was, she always protected her face with one 
hand. And as she had proved in the previous bout, one hand was 
more than enough against me. With her free hand, she worked my body 
unmercifully. While I hit her with what I could, often off balance, 
and always ineffective, she set herself and hit me with hard, 
accurate punches to my fast weakening midsection.

I survived rounds two and three, but I started to badly falter in 
round four. My belly was on fire. I tried to circle out of Elaine's 
reach, but the room seemed a lot smaller now than when we had 
started. I didn't manage to stay away more than ten seconds before 
she caught up with me. I watched her move in, her body glowing with 
perspiration, fully warmed up and ready to fight all night. As she 
got close to me, she drew her right arm back. I couldn't see her 
clenching her fist inside of her glove, but I could see her forearm 
swell noticeably as she prepared to launch another gut buster at me. 
Without thinking, I lurched forward and wrapped my arms around her 
chest, pinning those avatars of pain to her sides.

With my head resting on her shoulder, I leaned on her with my full 
one hundred and ninety pounds. Even though I was in a great deal of 
pain, I couldn't help but feel Elaine's incredible life source 
radiating youth and vitality where my flesh contacted hers. Elaine 
could have easily shrugged her broad shoulders and shoved me away, 
but she just stood there for moment, relaxed in my arms.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, but my abs told me 
otherwise, she asked, "Are we done Frank?"

"No."

"Then would you please let go of me so that I can punch you?"

My brain was the only part of my body answering "yes" to that 
question, and it was only half sure. Reluctantly, I complied.

Elaine stood there and allowed me to back away from her before she 
nodded and raised her guard.

"Thank you Frank."

Lunging forward, she faked a straight left at my face. 
Instinctively, I raised my gloves to protect myself against the 
looming mass of hard, red leather that was rocketing towards me. Her 
left hand stopped short of my gloves, and then her real punch, a 
wicked right uppercut boomed directly into my solar plexus. The 
force of the blow lifted me on my toes, and then I collapsed to the 
matted floor like a rag doll. Elaine didn't even bother backing 
away. Instead, she asked a question for which she already knew the 
answer.

"Are we done now Frank?"

I tried to answer her, but all that came out of my mouth was a 
sickly croaking sound. Elaine helped me to the bed. 

After a few minutes, I managed to gasp, "We're not done yet."

Elaine shook her head sadly and said, "Believe me Frank, I really 
hate to leave while there's still money left in the room, but if we 
keep going, you're going to be seriously hurt."

"What do you care?"

"Frank, as a valued customer, it's in my interest to keep you 
healthy."

I knew that she was right. There was no way I could continue. 
Besides, I already owed her the lion's share of the hundred grand.

Reluctantly I said, "All right Elaine, take your money and go."

As Elaine counted out her earnings, she said, "I don't suppose you'd 
like some souvenirs? I have two new T-shirts, a whole series of 
signed photos, my own graphic novel, and for discriminating clients 
such as yourself, a signed and numbered casting of my right fist."

"No," I snapped.

As she finished counting, she looked at the small amount of money 
remaining in the case and asked, "Arm wrestle you for the rest of 
it?"


"Elaine, don't take this the wrong way. But get the fuck out of my 
room!!!"

Elaine looked hurt as she started dragging her mats out by herself. 
I watched her in silence as I lay on the bed and tried to decide 
whether or not I should call an ambulance.

Picking up her last bag, she said, "Frank, I know right now you 
don't view this as a positive experience. But some day you'll thank 
me for giving you the motivation to stay in shape. Did I mention 
that I have my own exercise tape?"

"Out!!!" I yelled so loud that pain engulfed my bruised ribs.

"Well I hope then that we can continue to do business in the future."

"Elaine," I said in all seriousness, "that's the one thing you can 
count on."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that. Good night Frank. And don't worry, 
I'll try to finish up early with Tex so I don't disturb you."

As I listened to the thumps coming from the room next door, I made 
plans. One way or another, I was going to see Elaine defeated, even 
if I didn't do it personally...


Next: Capitalist Boxer III, Risk and Reward