nslaughter Murphy had his cobra
holt--but none of those guys had anything like my Bum's pretzel bend.
He trun 'em all, and they stayed trun.

That was fine. All through the fifties, and the sixties we made plenty
scratch. Maybe it slowed down, but we was eating regular. In the
seventies my bum was slowing up. I shoulda seen it when he started
missing his holt. That leaves him wide open, see? And twict the other
bum moiders him.

That was recent--they was just putting in regular passenger service on
the space lines, so you could buy tickets to the Moon, or Venus or
Mars. Depended on whether you was ducking a bill or some broad.

By this time my bum is getting pinned to the mat too regular, and
we're slipping out of the big dough. I counts up our lettuce one day,
and I says to my bum, I says, Ray, I says, you and me are going to the
Moon.

So what if they didn't have a rassling circuit there yet, I tell him.
Just leave it to your uncle Hoiman. We'll make our own circuit.

I figured that the ribbon clerks wouldn't be taking space rides for
awhile, and if we went to the Moon we'd find some bums there who could
give my bum a good bout, but not fast enough to toss him.

So we went there.

Hoiman's eyes, looking into the past, had lost their beadiness. He'd
shifted his third glass of beer to his right hand, and his left,
seemingly of its own volition, had found my plate of french fries. The
pile had dwindled by half, and tell-tale potato crumbs were lodged in
the whiskers on Hoiman's unshaven chin. Neither beer nor potatoes in
his mouth seemed to matter--he went right on talking at the same rate.

It takes me two weeks, (Hoiman continued), to ballyhoo up a bout, line
up another bum, fix up the ring and hall and everything. We was down
to our last lettuce that night. I gets my bum by the ear, and I tells
him, I says, make it a good show. But don't take no chances--this is
winner take all, and we better not lose. Don't use your pretzel bend
unlessen you have to.

This bum we rassle was a big miner, see?--hard as the rocks he juggles
around in the daytime. He was stronger'n my bum, but he don't know
nothing about rassling. My bum tried a step-over toehold on him, but
he knows how to kick. My bum goes through the ropes. He don't try that
no more.

They rassle around, and eight minutes later my bum takes first fall
with a body press after flattening the miner with a hard knee lift. I
told my bum to let him take the