It's a sunny, Friday afternoon and a day off from work at the foundry. Life is good and I'm definitely gettin' into a dangerous mood. There's magic everywhere and the stars'll be out soon. So enjoy the tune and look under your pillow. Your lover might just have left you a red rose there. I think mine has. May the evening bring you each a smile as day slips slowly into night.

    A couple of evenings ago, after a long night in the foundry I had occassion to drop into BlogChat, hoping to find a few of my friends to chat with. I knew I should be writing, but decided to just kick back and enjoy some conversation with those I consider special, which is everyone I know on BlogStream, with two distinct exceptions. I logged in and within minutes had been privately contacted by three of the five on chat indicating they'd been verbally attacked by none other than Mizmace. I was asked by them what they should do. Bite back or ignore her. I suggested ignoring her and we began to chat. Then, as if right on cue, Mizmace began again, making a variety of vile comments.
    I made a comment to Mrs. Morgan, who was busy with other things on her computer, that Mizmace was at it again, doing what she so often does, making derogatory comments to a variety of people. Mrs. Morgan suggested that maybe she could bring some peace and harmony to what was becoming a rather acramonious conversation. She tried. In return Mizmace unleashed some vile insults, not to mention amazingly inaccurate comments about Chey.
    Here's how it works in my world. Anyone who's known me more than about ten minutes knows I'm about as peaceful and mellow as anyone they'll ever meet. I like almost everyone I meet and yes, I do have a lot of friends and I value each friendship VERY highly. But . . . there are situations I just don't tolerate. DON'T insult my mate. DON'T insult my friends. I DID make some very blunt comments directly to Mizmace. All that time Page Two/Arrow/Harold (whatever he calls himself) said very little as the exchange between Mizmace, Chey and I took place. It seems he's much better at sitting in the corner, shivering with panic and then unleashing a vile attack from the safety of his own blog later. Here's the entire text of what he said:

THE HYPOCRITE CLUB----CHATROOM CHATTER! Well, if I had any doubts left at all--- I don’t anymore! You see, last night I saw for the first time just how you fools operate. Trust me when I say that many of you would do well to listen to Macey’s concerns regarding the chatroom--- she is right on the money. I mean, she has been referred to as a “bully” and a “bitch” and thensome. And yet I watched as no less than six folks at a time, took turns at ganging up on her… I mean one woman against a team of vultures. And she is the bully? What dictionary are you using to define your terms? Lately, many of you have stooped so low as to make fun of her son who, as we all know is autistic. The latest game you play is one where you accuse her of taking drugs, and being a drunk, and then say that this is why her son is “handicapped”! In my opinion, you can’t get much more pathetic then to resort to such tactics so that others won’t see your real motivation. What’s even more interesting to me, is that Macey and I have been close friends for over a year now… we confide in each other about everything. Her life is a complex and demanding one… and she likes to have a few Mich Ultra’s on her day off while blogging. So just because she once joked about it in a post a long time ago… these sick vermin have been trying to pin the label of “drunk” on her ever since. Hmmmmm….. so we have “Blaast”, a self-admitted wino who would be better of named “Blasted”. We have a queer whore who has managed to drink to the point of killing three fetuses. Who have a known child molester who many defend. AND we have people like Heather who not only posted a whore giving head on her blog, knowing that a nine year old was following it. Who also admits to being drunk just about every time she is in chat. Ironically Macey has defended her… “why”… I have no idea since Heather is obviously a drunken attention whore who will follow whatever group tolerates her at the time. We have a stalker who has threatened Macey physically on more than one occasion. We have many people, in general on the Stream who openly discuss their drug and alcohol problems--- B U T~~~~~ MACEY is labeled a bully, a btich, and a drunk??? It is PAINFULLY obvious to me that you childish crew of mental midgets… need to comfort yourselves by trying to pin a negative label on her, because just like in preschool… if you force attention on someone else… perhaps others won’t notice what a loser YOU are. This lady is so much more than any of you know. She plays you like a fiddle. In fact, she has told me exactly what it is she is doing here, and why. She illicits the expected response each and every time, to try and show others the truth and reality of human nature. Just like the tactics she uses on groups of behavior troubled juveniles… she pushes the necessary buttons… and sure enough---- out comes the dark insecurities of the entire crew of vineer-covered assholes. And it cannot possibly be made much clearer, that a “g a n g m e n t a l i t y” exists here, especially in chat. NOT one person has had the balls to stand up for Macey because they fear being shunned by the group. Last night before Macey said anything at all, the Captain (who she has never said a negative word to or about) started talking negatively about her. WHY??? I mean did she do anything TO you Captain--- NO! You went simply by what you have been told. How very weak of you--- of all of you. For the record… yes… even you Rosie, and Little Devil SA… I include all of you when I say that you and your Hypocrite Club sicken me. Grow up, and quit trying to run others out of chat. Maybe people like Husky or Darrius will read this and realize there ARE some real people who go to chat. You don’t have to be of one brain, one thought, one mentality, one "CLUB!” Get over yourselves! When these folks in chat come there, you can very well see that they are A group of self ordained ministers of their own patrol of the chatroom vomit spewers, who has the gall to attack someones handicapped son while they condone A drunken woman that disreguards the fact that she is carrying A child that has no choice in the matter, but she would be coddled and, never, one time did I see anyone tell her that there was a real good possibility that she would lose the child, well it happened and those same folks express how sorry that they are that this happened, well yes they are sorry, the lowest form of humanity that God could have created. But this group of vermin will slither back to their respective blogs and count how many comments from the same scum and suckups that want to be part of the elite group that would claim that they were bullied.. They think that what they say vanishes after they leave that little kettle of foaming puke that they seem to become someone else in....Think Again...Harold

    So . . . here's my Friday Five:

    1> I never tolerate attacks on the woman I love deeply. Disagreements? Certainly. But NOT attacks. (Not that Chey's not capable of managing her own affairs. She's a tough, strong and capable woman who would meet the devil himself head on if necessary, but we DO take care of each other. She would rise to my defense just as quickly as I would to hers.)

    2> I never tolerate attacks on those I consider my friends. My friends are like part of my extended family and family means A LOT to me.

    3> I genuinely like most everyone I meet and most everyone I meet becomes my friend. But . . . it ain't no perfect world and there are rare occassions when I encounter someone who just isn't worthy of friendship.

    4> I learned long ago; if something's amiss, maybe it really ISN'T the entire world that's out of step, maybe it's me. I'm big on "doing your own thing" BUT not if it brings hurt or sadness to another.

    5> Karma DOES exist. Every action creates a reaction. Positive or negative, we're each responsible for what actions we create and the reactions that result from our choices.

    Anyone who's read my blog even some, surely knows I don't post stuff such as this. I prefer not to, but it seemed necessary. Mizmace and her cyberfriend have brought enough negativity to the Stream. It is time for that to change.

Your Dominant Thinking Style: Exploring

You thrive on the unknown and unpredictable. Novelty is your middle name. You are a challenger. You tend to challenge common assumptions and beliefs. An expert inventor and problem solver, you approach everything from new angles. You show people how to question their models of the world.

It was nearing midnight when Vincent entered the Cellar Bar. A wall of sound crashed into him as he took a seat at the bar. He smiled as he turned to watch the band playing one of his favorite blues tunes. Blind Willie put his mouth harp to his lips and the notes poured out, blending in perfect harmony with the keyboards, guitars and horn. Fond memories of his time spent jamming blues with Willie and the band flashed through Vincent’s mind. Willie looked much the same; older, but still the same as Vincent remembered him. 
    A tall, bespectacled man ambled down the bar. “Good evenin’ sir. What’ll ya have to drink?”
    Vincent ordered rum and ginger ale and turned his attention back to the band. He reached in his pocket and fingered his old Hohner Blues Harp. He had done what was expected of him. He’d found the man named Paul and the man was standing behind the bar. Now it was time to indulge himself, if only for a short time. He slid off his stool and made his way across the crowded dance floor. Willie was mopping sweat from his face with an oversized handkerchief as Vincent leaned close to him. “Mind if I sit in with ya for a few?”
    Willie glanced up and squinted. Suddenly a shocked expression spread across his face and his eyes widened. “Damn! You look just like an old friend of mine.”
    Vincent grinned. “Maybe I am! An old friend of yours, I mean.”
    With a wistful look Willie shook his head. “Naw, my friend died two years ago. But you sure do remind me of him. He played the blues real well. You play to, huh?”
    Vincent pulled his blues harp from his shirt pocket. “Yea, some.”
    “Son of a bitch but this is just too damn weird. My friend had an old Hohner just like yours.”
    “Yup and one of his favorite tunes was There’s A Man Down There.”
    “Sweet Jesus, man! You’re scare’n the hell outa me. Aw, what the hell. Lets do it!” With that the band launched into the song and Vincent began to play. By the time Vincent got to a harmonica solo Willie was standing next to him, an incredulous expression on his face. Vincent closed his eyes and lost himself in the music. It was as if his entire soul was pouring out through his harmonica. As the song came to an end the lounge erupted in applause and shouts for more. An hour passed and the band climbed down from the stage to take a break. Willie’s face mirrored a mixture of amazement and confusion. “C’mon over to my table and tell me what the fuck’s goin’ on. Damn! I can’t believe how much you remind me of my old friend, Vincent.”
    “What if I told you I AM Vincent?”
    Willie leaned back in his chair and peered at Vincent. “It ain’t nice to pull an old man’s balls. Vincent died in the desert out west of Las Vegas near the California border two years ago. Him and his lady, Brandy.”
    “Yup, I’m pleased to tell ya Brandy’s doin’ just fine and she send all her love. I am Vincent, Willie. It’s hard to explain, but trust me my friend, I am Vincent.”
    “I ain’t followin’ this at all. Either you be dead or you ain’t.”
    “Well, clinically I am. Dead, that is. I’m a spirit guide and I’m here to do some business with a man named Paul and Paul’s standin’ right over there behind the bar.”
    “Aw shit man, you’re scare’n me with this spirit guide talk and all. I must be dream’n all’ve this.”
    “It’s no dream, Willie. Now don’t be worry’n and remember this. You’ll be see’n me around again.” Vincent reached out and shook his friend’s hand, stood and disappeared into the crowd. Willie peered across the dimly lit, smoky bar. Vincent was nowhere to be seen.
    Cammie reached down grabbed Bridgette by the hair and slammed her to the mat. Bridgette rolled over and wrapped her arms around Cammie’s leg and pulled with all her strength. Cammie landed on her back and Bridgette pounced on her, twisting her arm into a painful position.
    William smiled at Dillon and Andy. “I can see why you call this the world’s sexiest sport. Sheesh! I wasn’t sure what to expect when I heard you were promoting topless women’s wrestling, but this is amazing! I figured there’d be a couple’ve barbie dolls dressed in thongs rolling around in a wrestling ring, but this! Jeez! These gals are tough! And gorgeous! I can tell you, this’ll be the main feature of next month’s issue of Entertainment Digest.”
    Dillon grinned proudly. “Thanks for  the compliments, William. The women’ll be thrilled to hear your gonna do a spread on them. I’m look’n forward to seeing it. If there’s anything else we can help you with don’t hesitate to ask." The men shook hands and William turned to leave.         “Now all I’ve gotta do is figure out a way to pry my camera man outa here.”
    Shilo ran across the room and threw her arms around Dillon’s neck. “We did good, huh?”
    “Good enough for a feature article in next month’s edition of William’s mag. I’d say that’s damn good! Let’s wrap it up and go get some lunch. I’m hungrier than a bitch wolf with a litter of pups.”
    Victoria flew through the air, both feet striking Sheena squarely in the chest and sending her reeling backward into the ring ropes. Sheena bounced off and Victoria caught her in a painful arm hold as she slammed her face first onto the canvas. Scrambling on top of her opponent, Victoria increased the pressure, forcing howls of pain from Sheena. A sadistic grin spread across Victoria’s face as she watched her victim intently. Sheena screamed her submission and Victoria stood up, reaching down to give Sheena a hand up. “Damn girl! You are SO ready for tonight’s show I can’t believe it. I don’t think Lola knows what she’s in for.”
    “I DO feel ready, but I’m still nervous. You really think I’ll do alright?”
    “You’re gonna knock ‘em dead!” The voice startled Victoria. She turned to see Brad smiling at her. “You’ve gotta know I wouldn’t put you in the line-up if I didn’t think you were ready.”
    Sheena scowled. “Yea, right Brad!” She instantly recalled how many inexperienced women Brad had thrown to the wolves in the past. He only cared about one thing; the profit his shows made. The wrestlers were expendable.
    Victoria showered and left the gym. It was a warm, sunny day and she felt more alive than ever. She walked aimlessly for nearly an hour until she found herself nearing Al’s Diner. Victoria entered and took a seat at the counter, smiling as she noticed her old friend busy in the galley. She ordered tea and a bowl of salad, watching Al as she ate. He glanced up and saw her at the counter. “Vic! How are ya?” He hurried out front and approached her. “Give me a hug! God! I ain’t seen ya in awhile. How’ve you been?”
    “I’ve been good, Al. Really good!”
    They sat together laughing and talking as Victoria finished her lunch. “Brad’s scheduled me for the main event at tonight’s show. Can you believe it? Me in a main event. I’m so nervous I can hardly stand it!”
    Al’s big hand closed around hers. “You got nuthin’ to be nervous about, Vic. You’re gonna be fantastic. I just know ya are!”
    The afternoon passed quickly. Victoria roused herself from her perch on the fire escape and went back into her apartment. She was amazed by how calm she felt. Her nervousness had dissipated and she felt a surge of confidence coursing through her body. She changed clothes, packed her gym bag and left for the arena, arrriving a short while later. Fans were lining up to buy tickets as she entered the building and went directly to the dressing rooms. She changed into her suit and slowly laced her boots. The door opened and Victoria glanced up to see Velvet standing in front of her. “Well kid, this’s your night to shine.”
    Victoria didn’t respond immediately as she continued to tie her laces. “Yes, I suppose it is.”
    “Look. I know we sorta got off on the wrong trail awhile back, but you’ve done one hell of a job. You’re good. Real good. Just don’t underestimate the Cajun Sensation. She’s one tough bitch in the ring, but you’re tougher. You’re gonna do just fine.”
    Before Victoria could answer, Velvet turned and walked out of the room. Victoria watched her leave. Velvet’s encouragement was the last thing she expected, but it made her feel much better. The sounds of friendly banter filled the dressing room. Victoria stretched out on a bench in the corner and closed her eyes. The cacophony assailing her senses seemed to subside as she drifted deeper into her own thoughts. She was barely aware of the roaring crowd outside the door. Suddenly she felt a hand shaking her shoulder. “Hey Vic! You’re up girl!”
    Victoria opened her eyes and saw Sheena smiling down at her. Without a word she stood up, pulled on her robe and disappeared out the door. The crowd erupted in applause as they saw her approaching the ring. Fans thrust autograph books into her hands, hoping to get her signature. She ascended the stairs to the ring with a regal flair and ducked through the ring ropes. Standing in her corner, she turned and bowed slightly to the crowd. The applause was deafening and it was difficult to hear the introduction of her opponent. Victoria peered into the crowd, watching as Lola Marceaux approached. She was a formidable woman. Powerfully built, Lola carried herself with an air of supreme confidence. There was a fierceness in her eyes that was unnerving as she stood in the opposite corner staring at Victoria.
    With the introductions concluded, the referee gave the signal for the match to begin and Victoria moved slowly and deliberately toward Lola. The women circled each other warily, then locked arms. With a powerful lunge, Victoria sent Lola reeling backward into the ring ropes. She followed her opponent and caught her in a headlock as she rebounded. Lola was surprised by the move, but not for long, as she broke free and twisted Victoria’s arm into a painful hammerlock. Victoria panicked for a moment, sure that her arm would break. Her instincts and training surfaced rapidly and she slipped free, only to be trapped in another painful hold. Lola seemed unstoppable.
    The crowd chanted and yelled encouragement as Victoria withstood the barrage of holds that Lola unleashed. The women were dripping with sweat, a combination of exertion and the heat of the ring lights. Victoria continued to evade Lola’s attacks and secured one painful advantage after another. Lola found herself caught in Victoria’s powerful grasp and it appeared she’d have no choice but to submit. Much to Victoria's surprise, Lola managed to muscle her way to freedom. The women rolled to their feet and lunged at each other. With a cat-like move, Victoria slammed Lola to the mat and trapped her in a crushing scissor hold. Leaning back on her arms, Victoria increased the pressure, squeezing unmercifully as a sadistic grin spread across her face. The crowd was on it’s feet, urging her to finish her helpless opponent. Lola waved her arms in submission and Victoria struggled to her feet. The referee raised her hand in victory and with a smile and a wave, Victoria slid under the ring ropes and ran to the dressing room.
    Sheena and several of the other wrestlers met her at the dressing room door, crowding around her, congratulating her on her triumph. Grinning proudly, Victoria thanked them for being so supportive. “Right now all I want is a drink!”
    “Get a shower and meet us down in Brad’s office, Vic! First round is on me!”
    Victoria stripped off her sweat-soaked suit and stepped into the shower, letting the steamy water splash across her body. Every muscle ached and she closed her eyes, feeling the pain slowly subside. She dressed and hurried to Brad’s office. As she entered she saw Sheena leaning across Brad’s desk and heard the angry words. It was clear Sheena was upset. “You chiselin’ bastard. You can’t tell me this’s what the gate receipts were tonight. The fuck’n place was standing room only!”
    “Believe what you want. There were a lot of comp tickets out for tonight’s show.” Brad gave her a bland smile. “Anyone else wanna bitch about their pay?”
    Victoria approached. “Where’s my money, Brad?”
    Brad handed her an envelope. Victoria ripped it open and counted the bills. Anger flashed in her eyes as she stared at Brad. “This is NOT correct, Brad. I know precisely how many people were in the arena tonight and I know how much the gate receipts are.”
    Brad’s expression turned cold. “You don’t know shit, Victoria. Now take your money and get out’a my office.”
    Victoria drew a deep breath and looked at Sheena. “This isn’t right. Not at all.”
    “No shit, girl. It happens around here a lot. Too damn much. This’s bullshit!”
    As the women turned to leave Brad called out to them. “You’ll feel better once you calm down. I’ll see you all at the gym tomorrow. I’ll buy lunch.”
    Sheena slammed the door as she and Victoria stormed out of the office. “That drink sounds REAL good right about now. You got wheels here Vic?”
    “Wheels?” Victoria appeared puzzled.
    “A car. Did you drive to the arena tonight?”
    “No. I walked. I don’t have a car.”
    “Well c’mon then. You can ride with me. I know a place not far away that serves a damn fine drink.”
    Sheena and Victoria entered the dimly lit Cellar Bar and seated themselves at a corner table. Victoria looked around the room. “It seems familiar here. Yes! This is the place I  came to meet Brad the first time.”
    “Let’s don’t discuss that no-count son of a bitch!” Sheena scowled. “That bastard’s screwed me for damn near the last time. I’m think’n about check’n in with the NAWWA promotion. Brad says if I do he’ll make sure I’m blackballed on the entire west coast, but I just might take the chance.”
    Their conversation was interrupted as the bartender approached to take their drink order. “What would you ladies like to drink?”
    Victoria and Sheena gave him their order. He hesitated for a moment before returning to the bar, staring intently at Victoria. “You seem familiar. I know you’ve heard this more times than you’d like to remember, but don’t I know you?”
    A strange sensation teased Victoria’s senses and she shivered slightly. “Yes. You do seem familiar, but I don’t think we’ve met.”
    The bartender smiled shyly. “My name’s Gavin.” He extended his hand and took Victoria’s in his.
    Victoria returned his smile as she shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Gavin. My name is Victoria and this is my friend Sheena.”
    Gavin’s face froze. “Victoria?”
    “Yes.”
    Gavin fidgeted nervously. “It’s certainly nice to meet you, Victoria. I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
    As he walked away Sheena grinned. “Damn girl! I do believe the bartender’s got a thing for you!”
    Victoria blushed slightly as she stared at Gavin. There was something about him that touched her deep inside. He returned with their drinks and set them on the table. Without a word he hurried back to the bar. Victoria sipped her drink, lost in thought and barely hearing what Sheena was saying to her. The evening slipped by and Victoria heard Gavin make last call for drinks.
    “I really should be going. I’m so tired I can barely hold my head up.”
    Sheena smiled. “Me to. C’mon. I’ll give you a ride home.”
    As they were leaving, Gavin called out to them. “Nice to meet you, ladies. I hope I see you again!”
    Victoria smiled slightly, certain that she would see Gavin again. She was quiet as Sheena drove. They arrived at Victoria’s apartment and she thanked Sheena for the company. “I’ll see you at the gym later today?”
    “Count on it! And hey! Congrats on the match! You really knocked ‘em dead girl.”
    Victoria watched as Sheena sped away, turned and walked into her darkened apartment. The streetlights cast an eerie glow into her living room as she fell onto the couch, too exhausted to go farther. Victoria drifted slowly off to sleep, thoughts of Gavin crowding into her mind. Somewhere in the distance she heard a familiar sound. It was the haunting refrain of a long, lonesome train whistle. Victoria found herself once again on a worn boarding platform next to an abandoned train station deep in the desert. A sleek, black locomotive appeared, pulling seven railcars behind. A tall, distinguished looking conductor stepped down to greet her.
    Victoria smiled. “Jensen! I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”
    Jensen returned her smile. “This is a special time for you m’lady. Come aboard. There’s someone waiting to share a cup of tea with you in the dining car.”
    “Andrew, I assume?”
    “No ma’am. It’s someone else.”
    Victoria hurried to the dining car, anxious to discover who could be waiting for her. As she entered her eyes widened. It was Gavin, sitting at  a table by the window. He seemed as surprised to see her as she was to see him. “Victoria! What a pleasant surprise! Won’t you join me?”
    “Hello Gavin. It is wonderful to see you again so soon. How did you know to find me here?”
    Confusion showed in Gavin’s eyes. “I’m not sure. It’s as if my fondest dream came true.”
    Victoria took a seat and Gavin poured her a cup of tea. Suddenly she heard a familiar voice. She turned to see Andrew smiling at her. “May I join you two?”
    Gavin glanced up and smiled. “Andrew! Yes! Please do join us! By the way, I’d like to introduce you to Victoria.”
    “Yes, I know Victoria quite well, Gavin. Perhaps I should reintroduce you to each other. Victoria, you might remember Gavin as the one you once knew as Anthony, the man who created you.”     

    Andrew steadied Victoria as she fumbled with the key in the lock. She was knee-crawling, commode-hugging drunk and barely able to stand, let alone unlock the door. With an expression of sheer exasperation he took the key, unlocked the door and carried Victoria inside, laying her gently on the bed. She mumbled incoherently. Andrew undressed her, hesitating to admire her nude body lying peacefully in front of him. Carnal thoughts crowded his mind, but now was not the time. Andrew knew what needed to be done. He covered her with a quilt and quietly left her apartment.
    The Cellar Lounge was neary empty except for a few customers who’d stopped off for an after-work drink. Andrew seated himself at the end of the bar, ordered a glass of rum and ginger ale and waited, patiently watching the door. Nearly an hour had passed when he saw Brad enter. He waited while Brad ordered a drink, then moved down the bar to the stool next to him. “Excuse me, but aren’t you Brad Hemsley, the wrestling promoter?”
Brad looked up and peered at Andrew. “I am. I seem to be at a disadvantage. I don’t believe I know you.”
    “I’m Andrew, the man who’s going to connect you with the goose who lays eggs of gold.”
    Brad was intrigued. “Oh really? You’re gonna sell me a goose?”
    “Not sell, but rather point you in the right direction. I assume you met a woman recently named Victoria and I assume Victoria told you she was interested in a wrestling career?”
    “You assume correctly. How do you come to know so much about Victoria?”
    Andrew ignored Brad’s question. “Victoria was at your gym today. You heard what happened?”
    “You seem to know quite a bit about my business. Too bad you’re wrong about Victoria. My girls tell me she’s damn good, but weird and unfortunately impossible to find.”
    “So you want to find her?”
    “Hell yes! She comes into my gym to audition, bullshit’s me about having no wrestling training, takes on the toughest woman in my stable and finishes her in a matter of minutes. Then she goes hysterical and flies off like a big-ass bird.” Brad leans closer as if he’s sharing a little-known secret. “Whoever this woman is, she’s got potential. A lot of potential. That potential translates into big bucks. Damn straight I want to find her.”
    Andrew smiled. “I can bring Victoria to you.”
    “So you say, but what’s in it for you?”
    “Something more valuable than your bank account and your assets. I want your soul in exhange for Victoria.”
    Brad stared at Andrew for a moment. “You are WAY too weird for my tastes and as full of shit as a Christmas goose.”
    “Have it your way my friend.” Andrew reached out and shook Brad’s hand. Suddenly he disappeared. Brad blinked his eyes and peered around the room. “Bartender! Did you see where the man I was speaking to went?”
    The man behind the bar gave him a blank stare. “I didn’t see ya talk’n to nobody.”
    Victoria found herself once again standing on a worn boarding platform next to an abandoned train depot deep in the desert. She heard the familiar sound of a long, lonesome train whistle in the distance and smiled slightly as she saw a sleek, black locomotive come into view pulling seven rail cars behind. A tall, stately appearing conductor stepped down from the rail car and Victoria ran to him, threw her arms around him and kissed his cheek. “Jensen! It’s wonderful to see you again!”
    The conductor blushed as he struggled to maintain his composure. “Hello Victoria. It is surely wonderful to see you again to! If you’ll come aboard m’lady we’ll be on our way.”
Victoria climbed up the stairs and made her way to the dining car assuming Andrew would be there to meet her, but he was nowhere to be seen. She took a seat at a table by the window and nervously fidgeted with her cup. An unfamiliar looking porter appeared, smiling at her as he approached. “Would you like a cup of tea?”
    Victoria nodded and turned her attention to the view of the desert. The gentle rocking of the railcar seemed to soothe her as the train got underway. She watched as the sun slowly sank behind the high ridge in the distance. A flood of strange emotions flooded her mind and she found herself feeling more alive than she had ever felt before.
Darkness settled over the desert as the train slowly rolled to a stop and Victoria stepped down from the railcar, the boarding platform awash in moonlight. She stood motionless, watching as the train disappeared from sight. She jumped slightly, startled by the voice from behind her.             “Hello Victoria. Are you feeling better?”
    “Andrew! I wondered where you had gone!”
    “I was never far away. Shall we go?” Andrew took her hand and led her up the path toward the ocean. Victoria was silent as they continued on in the moonlight. The strange sensations she’d felt while riding in the dining car were still with her. As they neared the familiar looking cabin near the sea, Victoria stopped and stared at Andrew. “I feel like I’m outside my body watching myself. Why do I feel this way?”
    “It’s part of a progression. Part of the transformation I told you about.”
    “Then I am becoming Katrina?”
    “You are, sweet lady. It is happening as we speak.”
    Victoria smiled. “That is a good thing?”
    “Only as good as you choose to make it, Victoria.” Andrew gave her a reassuring smile.    “You are becoming human. A warm and sensitive, yet strong and capable woman.”
    They ascended the porch and stood in the doorway. The sounds of lovemaking wafted through the evening air. Andrew immediately recognized the voices. It was Brandy and Vincent. Victoria’s eyes widened. “Perhaps we should leave them alone for awhile?”
    Andrew’s response was a mischievious grin as he stepped through the door pulling Victoria into the cabin with him. They quietly slipped across the room and seated themselves at the table watching the erotic tangle of arms and legs thrashing on the bed. Suddenly Vincent glanced up, a look of shock and surprise changing instantly to a scowl. “You old reprobate! I thought you were due in tomorrow.”
    “It is tomorrow. It has been for the past two hours.”
Brandy propped herself up on her elbows and giggled. “Maybe you two’d like to join us?”
    Andrew chuckled. “As enticing as your offer is, we can’t. Victoria’s transistion is causing her some consternation and I feel you two might just be the ones to help her through it.”
    Brandy slid into Vincent’s shirt and busied herself making coffee. Vincent sat down next to his friends and peered intently at Victoria for a moment. “So tell me. What has happened?”
    The words came tumbling out as Victoria recounted her painful rejection by the man named Gary and the emotions she experienced as she wrestled with Velvet. Brandy sat next to Vincent, listening intently to what Victoria was saying. When Victoria finished speaking, Brandy smiled slightly and shook her head. “First of all, not all the men you’ll meet share Gary’s attitudes. There are wonderful men in this world who love unconditionally. There are others that aren’t worth a second look. Your instincts’ll guide you. Trust what you feel inside. As far as what happened between you and Velvet, that happens sometimes. There’s a few women in the business like her.”
    Victoria frowned. “I was so angry. I didn’t intend to be, but before I knew it I wanted to hurt her. I have no wish to harm anyone yet I harmed her.”
    “You didn’t cause her any harm. She’s fine. You’re going to meet all kinds of different women in the wrestling business. Some you’ll really enjoy working with and most don’t want to injure you any more than wanting to get injured themselves. You’ve got to remember though, wrestling’s a rough sport. You’ve got to make your holds hurt enough to force a submission and you’ve got to learn to endure a lot of pain so you can keep going when you get caught in a painful position. It’s all part of what makes wrestling a thrill for all of us. Sometimes you’ll feel sadistic and sometimes you’ll feel kind of masochistic. It all blends together with the reactions from the crowd and gives you a high that’s hard to explain.”
    Vincent nodded his agreement. “It’ll all come together better as you make your transition to human form. The wrestling business isn’t for everyone. You might discover it’s not something you want to continue doing or you might discover it’s something you really enjoy.”
    “That’s what’s strange. I DID enjoy myself. But then I thought I’d damaged Velvet and I felt terrible. I suppose dealing with my feelings will be something I’ll have to learn as I go whether it’s relationships or wrestling.”
    Andrew interrupted the conversaton. “There is one other detail you should all be aware of. Brad is thoroughly enamored with Victoria. He has dollar signs dancing in his head as he ponders his shows with Victoria as the headliner.”
    An expression of disgust spread across Brandy’s face. “You think that’s a good idea, Andrew? Brad’s a walking, talking rip-off just waiting to happen and the last thing Victoria needs is Brad screwing with her.”
    “I agree. But you must remember; Victoria will soon become Katrina. Oh! And there is one other detail. Brad and I have an agreement. Once I bring Victoria and him together, he allows me ownership of his soul.”
    An ominous smile showed in Andrew’s eyes. “He has yet to fully understand the ramifications of his decision, but he will. I assure you. He will.”