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Tours de Farce: The Boxer
“Not only did he hit you hard, Rocko, he hit you a lot. 534 times, right in the kisser. And that was in the first round. Man, oh, man, you’re a mess.”
“Louie, I’ve been thinking about maybe retiring from the ring. You know? Give up boxing?”
“Oh, don’t say that, Rocko. There’s still plenty of fight left in you. Here, let me press that eyeball back into its socket. There.”
“But boxing hasn’t been very good to me these past few years, Louie. They keep hitting me, and I keep falling down.”
“Comes with the territory, Rocko. Now hold still while I shove your right arm back into its socket. How’s that?”
“Much better, Louie. Anyway, I was thinking… I was thinking… I was thinking…”
“Hold on a sec, Rocko. You’re stuck in a loop again. Lemme just slap you on the back of the head.” Smack! “There, that ought to hold you.”
“As I was saying, Louie, I was thinking about finding a new profession.”
“Hold still while I put your nose back on the front of your face. But what would you do, Rocko? You’ve been a boxer all your life.
“I know, Louie, but I didn’t always want to be a boxer.”
“You didn’t?”
“Oh, no. When I was growing up, I wanted to be a concert promoter.”
“A concert promoter? You, Rocko?”
“Yeah. I thought it would be a great life. Nailing down a date for Morrissey. Hanging out backstage with Dave Matthews Band and Insane Clown Posse.”
“But you’re a great boxer, Rocko. You’re just having a streak of bad luck. Oh, you wanna hold still while I stitch up this gash across your chest? How’s that?”
“Better, Louie. Anyway, back in the day I thought I would have made a great promoter. When I was growing up I used to pictured myself haggling with booking agents over fees for Neil Diamond and Styx, bidding on James Brown, even putting together big events like that
“You wanna stop talking for a minute while I Superglue these teeth back into your mouth? Okay, that should do it. Uh… What did you just say, Rocko?”
“I said, there was a time when I was thinking of becoming a concert promoter instead of a boxer, Louie. “
“So, what changed your mind, Rocko?”
“Uh?”
“About choosing boxing over being a concert promoter. What changed your mind, Rocko?”
“Oh, yeah. My mother.”
“Your mother? What did your mother have to do with it?”
“She sat me down one day and explained to me the difference between boxing and concert promoting. That’s what changed my mind, Louie.”
“And…?”
“Mom said I wasn’t tough enough to be a promoter.”
“Hmmm… She might have a point, Rocko. Now don’t move while I turn your head around so that you’re facing the same way as your feet. Hmmm… I think this is going to take a while.”
“Okay, Louie, but take it easy, will you? That guy hit me… That guy hit me… That guy hit me…”
“I know, Rocko. I know.”