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The men assembled in a semi-circle of steel folding chairs beneath a single row of blinking fluorescence. Before them was a shallow concrete pit, and around them, darkness, in this dim basement lounge. The crowd was anxious for something new.
At the center of the cockpit, an announcer appeared with a burlap bag over each shoulder.
Are we ready? he shouted out to the men.
A fat man cheered. A lethargic one opened his eyes, wondering what fetish fantasy would come alive here. He hoped his favorite rooster would fight tonight.
Did I promise you something new? beckoned the announcer, wiping a bit of spit from his chin.
The announcer lowered his bags and deposited two four-year old boys to the cockpit.
May the fighting begin, he said.