The wrestling mat thundered with the sound of the woman wrestler’s impact, and the small crowd sitting in folded chairs hoot-n-hollered. It was a small, sad high school gymnasium featuring a lower-circuit professional wrestling event.

The female wrestler held her shoulder gingerly as she attempted to climb up to her knees. All while her opponent stood over and encouraged her to get up.

No, not in the sarcastic, patronizing way. Her opponent genuinely meant it.

“You can do it, Leah!” her opponent yelled. “Don’t let being a woman hold you back!”

Now that right pissed her off, and she scrambled back up to her feet with renewed vigor. She grabbed her opponent’s big arm attempted to direct them to the corner. Unfortunately, her opponent was just too massive, and she sputtered out in front of them.

Leah the Lion’s opponent rag dolled her back to the ground and dropped a thick leg across her chest. It didn’t get an easier from there; for the next five minutes, her opponent threw, kick, punched, slammed, and tormented her across all four corners of the ring.

When it was all said and done, her opponent went for the cover and got the three count.

Un-fucking-believable she thought.

As she stood to her feet, her opponent helped her up and raised her arm up with his. Indeed, her opponent was a 7’0” man weighing at least 350 pounds.

He directed the crowd’s attention to her and yelled out.

“Leah! Leah is the champion! All women must be brave like her!”

This just didn’t make any sense to her.

Backstage, Awoke put away his wrestling attire into a duffle bag and prepared to leave the locker room. All around him the other wrestlers eyed him; some seemed suspicious and contemptuous of him, while others seemed outright confused.

They probably just didn’t get it.

They’re just indoctrinated thought Awoke as he made his way to the locker room door.

Of course, he had to check Twitter first. Last he checked before the event, Ben Shapiro had just stepped in it. There was no way Awoke wasn’t going to follow that, so he fumbled in his pockets for his phone as he entered the hallway.

Outside the locker room door was a young man in a nice suit. A nice young white man, Awoke noticed.

“Hey there, big guy,” the young man greeted.

Awoke stopped and scowled down to him.

“Excuse me?” Awoke asked. “Don’t assume my gender. I go by Zim/Zis.”

Awoke began to walk away down the hall but the young man did a quick walk/jog and caught up next to him to keep the conversation alive.

“Okay, then,” said the young man, cautiously. “I was told I needed to be… careful… with my words. And I will! Just hear me out!”

“What, then?” asked Awoke while still walking, not even bothering to look over at the young man.

“I’m Parker Meloche,” he replied. “I’m the commissioner of a wrestling promotion out in Memphis, and I really, really think you could have an impact out there.”

Awoke stopped walking and looked over curiously.

“What kind of impact?”

“Well, you know these Tennessee folks,” Parker humored. “They’re just a little…”

“Backwards?” Awoke concluded.

“I was going to say ‘old school,’ but that works too,” Parker agreed. “Now I’m building out a roster, and I know that you might be interested in making a real difference in the world. Here’s my card with my Twitter handle. If you’re interested, send me a DM and we’ll keep this dialogue going.”

Awoke accepted the business card into his big hand and gave a cautious nod before the Memphis businessman left.

Hmmm he thought. My Tik Tok would hella blow up if I posted about this.