ZipZop and Beanbag had been wrestling together on the GZW circuit for some time now. True, there was no bead on Vince McMahon coming to their door to sign them to a six-figure contract, but they did it because they loved to entertain. They knew, as midget wrestlers, they were a niche performance, a novelty act to bring some comic relief between bouts. Sometimes they’d team up against a full-sized wrestler and climb him like a tree. Sometimes they’d fight the women and try to pull their shirts off. Sometimes they’d even fight each other and show some real skill. It was degrading, but they loved it.
Being the only little people in the stable made them outcasts. Sure, the other wrestlers were friendly, but they always seemed patronizing. And nobody likes to be pitied. So ZipZop and Beanbag, having never met prior to GZW, became fast friends. They did everything together; ate together, fought together, shared shitty hotel rooms together, and yes, on occasion, even fucked together.
This particular dry Albuquerque night found the pair in another seedy motel room with only a queen bed, dresser, and two Mexican hookers they picked up after the show. Esmeralda had long, curly hair, stretch marks on her thighs, and sandwich-tits. Selena, the shorter one, had straight hair, track-marks, was pencil-thin and flat-chested. She looked like she’d been on the Jenny Craig all-meth diet.
ZipZop and Beanbag stood across the room dressing while the girls, still completely naked, leaned over the dresser, speaking Spanish with their heads together.
ZipZop zipped his fly and ran a hand over his greasy, bald head. “Well, that was fun,” he said.
“Sure was,” said Beanbag, who had a dust mop of blonde curls and a handsome face. He might have even done well with the ladies were he not four-foot-six.
“Sorry about the crossed daggers, by the way,” ZipZop said.
“Not a problem,” said Beanbag as he pulled his boxers to his waist. “Just, you know, don’t bring it up.”
“Sorry,” said ZipZop. “Just, you know, sorry.”
“Every fucking time,” said Beanbag. “What part of ‘don’t talk about it’ do you not understand? It’s like the rule and shit.”
“Sorry,” said ZipZop. “For mentioning it I mean. Not for… never mind.”
Beanbag sighed, shook his head and began pulling on his socks.
The girls continued their conversation, casting sideways glances to the pair.
“I wonder what they’re talking about,” said ZipZop. “Doesn’t sound good.”
“You know, I picked up some Spanish doing the luchador circuit with Half Nelson back in the day,” said Beanbag.
“So what are they saying?”
Beanbag’s eyebrows tensed in concentration while he listened for a beat, sounding out the words silently with his mouth. After a moment of rushed Spanish Beanbag’s eyes widened and his face slacked.
“What is it?” asked ZipZop.
“Grim up,” said Beanbag. “This is about to get dangerous.”
“They mean to rob us,” said Beanbag.
“I mean, you did use our stature to negotiate a discount before,” said ZipZop.
Beanbag shrugged. “Seemed fair at the time.”
Esmeralda said something to Selena and they both started to laugh.
“What was that?” asked ZipZop.
“Something about digging…” said Beanbag. “Something like ‘We won’t even have to dig that deep.’”
“Oh man,” said ZipZop. “That’s just fuckin’ ignorant.”
“I know, right!”
The whores leaned in closer and started speaking softly. ZipZop and Beanbag just watched, still only half-dressed.
“Well, ZipZop,” said Beanbag, “I think we’re going to have to whoop these bitches’ ass.”
“Looks that way, Beanbag,” said ZipZop.
The girls kept talking, taking sneaky glances, perhaps aware they were in for a fight.
“In case the worst should happen,” said ZipZop, “I always wondered; why ‘Beanbag?’”
Beanbag smiled. “My trainer thought it would be funny for some reason,” he said. “Like a nut sac. You?”
ZipZop kept his eyes on the girls. “I always liked Bill Cosby.” Beanbag chuckled.
The girls were done talking. They stood from the dresser and started to walk toward the wrestlers, Selena with, god knows where she hid it, a switchblade.
“Well, this is it,” said ZipZop.
“Which one you want?”
“Hey!” said Beanbag, slapping ZipZop in the arm with the back of his hand. “Déjà vu!”
ZipZop laughed, looking at the floor and shaking his head. He sighed. “I love you, man.”
Beanbag smiled. “You fuckin’ queer.”
Selena came at Beanbag, threatening him with the switchblade. But Beanbag was too fast for that. He sprung forward and managed to wrap his arms around her waist, locking his fingers together. With a practiced skill, Beanbag spun behind her. He leaned back, using gravity against her, and executed a perfect suplex, slamming her head into the floor. Hopefully, if he was lucky, he’d have broken the bitch’s neck.
ZipZop squared his feet and hit Esmeralda in the gut with a quick haymaker. As she doubled over he took a few steps back, got a running start, and scissor-kicked her in the face. She fell backwards, the small of her back hitting the bed frame on her way down.
Beanbag jumped onto the corner of the mattress, letting the creaking springs propel him into the air, aiming to hit Selena with a hard elbow-drop. But she acted fast, rolling out of the way just in time for Beanbag to land face-first on the ground.
ZipZop saw this and ran forward to throw Selena into a sleeper hold but felt a cheap hotel towel around his neck. Esmeralda had gotten up to choke ZipZop out while he was distracted. She was on her knees, holding the towel tightly around his throat. ZipZop swung wildly in her direction, but it was hard to connect at such an angle, especially with such short arms.
Darkness started to creep into the edges of ZipZop’s vision as he watched, over the corner of the bed, Beanbag struggle on the floor, pinned down underneath Selena’s naked thighs. He was hitting every bit of her he could reach, but his moves lacked their normal fluidity. He was desperate.
ZipZop thought he might pass-out as Selena leaned over and picked up the switchblade. ZipZop tried to scream but couldn’t get the air to his mouth. He let out a long, loud grunt as Selena plunged the knife over and over into Beanbag’s chest and sides as he tried to roll away.
ZipZop lost all control of his thoughts. His head went forward and then whipped back fast at Esmeralda’s face. It connected and ZipZop felt the towel slack as Esmeralda fell backward.
Sprinting forward, ZipZop leapt into the air, brought his hands together above his head and crashed his fists hard onto the bridge of Selena’s nose. He felt it crack. Selena fell off Beanbag with her hands over her broken nose, blood streaming down her face.
“Beanbag!” he croaked through his shredded throat as he went to his knees at his best friend’s side.
Beanbag tried to answer but no words came out. Only something between a cough and a hiccup as blood poured down his cheek to the floor. His breath stopped.
ZipZop got up and started towards Selena. Fuck this bitch. He was going to beat her to death if he could.
Selena had a look of terror on her bloody face. ZipZop ran at her as she thrust her hands over his face to try to hold him at bay, screaming in Spanish. ZipZop swung like crazy, unable to see anything past her fingers, arms aching worse than any other fight he’d ever been in. He connected again and again with Selena’s arms, but couldn’t get any closer.
ZipZop felt the knife scrape against a rib as it entered through his back. In all his rage and grief he had completely forgot about Esmeralda. But he didn’t care. He pushed with all his effort against Selena’s arms, still trying to get at her. He tried to pump his legs and step forward but could only feel himself falling forward, never hitting the ground.
Special thanks to Twitter buddies @BudgieBigelow, @ClownOrb and @lowericon for providing the prompts that inspired this story.