A Real Opponent

The man had been wrestling with Lindsay at least twice a week since all activities had been shut down. They took turns doing two minutes in neutral, two minutes with him on bottom, and two minutes with her on bottom. On this late morning, Lindsay was unable to escape from bottom, unable to prevent takedowns, and unable to stop the man’s escapes.

In their third cycle through their turns, the man had broken her down flat. Then, he ran a hard cross-face under her nose from right to left and grabbed her left tricep. He had begun pulling that tricep under her body when he felt sharp pain at the crook of his forearm and bicep. He did not flinch, did not change the tricep pull he was working, but exclaimed, “Oh, you did not just do that.”

“Shut it, Dad!”

He shifted his weight to her right and used her left tricep to wrench her toward her back.

“All right, Dad! You got me!” she bellowed at him.

He released her and they both stood up. Instantly, he looked at his forearm. Teeth marks in a perfect circle glowed angry red.

“You freaking bit me,” he said.

“You deserved it!” she said.

“I deserved it?”

“If you don’t wanna get bit, don’t cross-face me.”

“One of those moves is perfectly legal. And one of those will get you disqualified and suspended.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not gonna bite a real opponent, Dad.”

“I’m not a real opponent? I mean, you can’t beat me.”

“You are literally the most annoying human on earth and you deserved to be bitten.”

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