Well I won an Imma go ta War Games. I ain't nev 'r been so x'cited bout'is. I beat ole Dragon Jones fer tha spot which made it all the mo'r sweet'r. He's a bad man, he talked bout me an ma fam'ly in a bad way.

Now I gotta nother tough task in front of me, I got this short fella named Al Denture an some Jap'nese dude named Yostinku YAZ, I rekon.

All I been hearin is ole Al's a tuff'en an tha fans chant "Al is gon'ta kill ya!" to his opponents. I find'at kindly hard ta bel'eve. He ain't no Neapolitan Bonerpart er nuttin.

Then er'is YAZ, he's a ninjitsu expert, I rekon. Maybe he's justa masked amer'can pretendin ta be Jap'nese. Who knows?

I still can't bel'eve I'm gonna wrestle a fella thats a foot shorter'an me. He'll be like tryin ta catch a chicken ta wring its ole neck. That's one of ma favor'te chores tho, so this should be mo'r fun than tossin turds at tha County Fair.

Now if'n I can win I'll get double tha points an maybe be a leader in tha points. Howev'r I'll have ta be on ma A game.

Imma gon'ta need a lot more than luck ta win'isn.
 

~

Today Sam's younger cousin Israel is coming down to help Big Sam while Sam Jr. has to go onto town and get a few dozen bales of hay and feed for the chickens and horses.

Sam thought it would be a good idea to invite Mr. Ellis along with him to talk wrestling strategy.

Mr. Ellis used to be a decent shooter, but to teach the bigger, dumber and slower Sam will be a real challenge.

"Boy when ya got one'em fellas down ua gotta sneak in an eye gouge er a fishhook ta rip'em a new smile." Mr. Ellis was telling Sam to help him continue on his winning ways.

Sam shook his and looked a little disgusted.

"No, niw Mr. Ellis ya know I ain't no bad guy. I like havin'em fans cheer fer me an wontin ta slap hands wiff me on tha way ta tha ring." Sam replied.

Mr. Ellis looked out the window as he gritted what was left of his teeth.

"Ya jus don get it, do ya boy? Ya gotta have an edge, this is sumthin yer gonna need ta win against'at angry midget an'at ole kamikaze pilot. They gon'ta tear ya a part if'n ya don get mad. Ya gotta do'is boy, its tha only thang thats gon'ta help ya out." Mr. Ellis said with quite a bit of forcefulness.

"But Mr. Ellis I..." Sam tried to say but was swiftly cut him off.

"Boy if'n ya don do'is stuff ya ain't gon ta win War Games. Ya gon'ta be tha laughin stock of ole Harlan Co., now do ta want'at?" Mr. Ellis questioned Sam.

Sam pondered for a few seconds.

"Well gosh no Mr. Ellis, I don want ta be a big ole joke round Harlan Co. I jus don want ta let what fans I got down. Do ya und'rstand what I mean?" Sam asked.

Mr. Ellis smirked and shook his head.

"Don be a idiot boy. Yer jus bein plum dopey. I beginin ta think yer smarter than ya let on or yer jus as dumb as a rock." Mr. Ellis replied.

"No sir Mr. Ellis, I ain't dumb. I knows a lil bit of what Imma doin. I heared tha people say I's one of tha bes big men in rasslin. I think'em fans knows who they likes, don ya?" Sam asked.

Mr. Ellis mumbled under his breath to where Sam couldn't make out what he was saying.

"Fine, do it yer way an when ya lose ya gotta listen ta me from now on out, deal?" Mr. Ellis asked.

Sam had to think about it. But he responded shortly after. "Well I rekon ya gotta deal Mr. Ellis."

A grin as erie as the Grinch Who Stole Christmas splashed onto Mr. Ellis's face.

"I knew ya'd see it ma way." Mr. Ellis mumbled under his breath.

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