The high pitched buzz of motorbikes. The odd car horn. My wife suggests going clubbing as we are unlikely to get back to sleep after our serious power...nap. She is full of energy as she springs out of bed and heads to the bathroom to put herself together. She roots around in the luggage as I lie in bed still half dreaming. When she emerges from the bathroom, I gasp at her body, lit from just that certain angle by the bath light. She clearly means business. Short black dress, tight against her. And with that the four went to sleep.What the four of them did not realize was that their every move was being watched carefully. The Wicked Witch that the Mayor and the kindly couple that fed Dorothy told her of had been watching their travels since Dorothy left Malkovainia. She had been watching as Dorothy met Scarecrow, Tin Man, and Lion. She had seen how horny Dorothy had been and had big plans for her.As the four slept in the grassy area along the road, the Wicked Witch looked through her. Him and a few others that had proved themselves worthy to be put in to the ring, not just to show off but to earn a good wage from it. My Dad always said your heart's got to be in it not like most of the audience who just want to show-off in front of their mates or their girl friends. It's a cold-blooded sport. I had worked the entrance of this blood-ridden tent for five years and hated every sick day of it.My father's the owner and in charge of it, this being his only income to feed my mother. Most millionaires live on loans anyway. The logic followed that he should live on loans too if only to own assets that appreciated. Over time he could sell them off, make plenty of money, and live the life of his dreams. Granted, the loan was only a drop in the bucket, but the newly discovered lake of capital he waded in ultimately became the baptism that exorcised all of those unruly ghetto demons, like wondering where the next meal would come from, lying awake at all hours of the night as.
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