Brick yelled. “Get your head out of your ass!” Lucky blinked several times as Brick smeared more Vaseline over the newly-opened cut on his left eyebrow. “I’m fine,” he mumbled around the mouthguard. His opponent in the amateur match, Jake ‘Lightning’ Boone, had a better record and was higher ranked, but in Lucky’s opinion, the guy’s heart wasn’t in it. “The hell you are. We both know your power’s in your fists. You can’t use your best asset if you let this joker engage in dirty boxing.” Lightning was a clinch fighter, someone who preferred to hold his opponents too close to land punches. The prick was good at using his elbows to inflict injury, thus the cut above Lucky’s eye. “I’ll finish him this round,” Lucky declared. He needed the win. His record was good, but not great. Definitely not good enough to get the UFC’s attention. Brick slapped Lucky’s chest before sending him back into the cage for round two. He stared at Lightning and knew the next three minutes meant everything.
