Working on a Baby Lake chapter.

This might be interesting: watch me edit this chapter throughout the week. It still needs about 3-6K words.

For the longest time I have wanted to bring in my mother's brothers to the Baby Lake story. They were notorious about fighting. In the book I am making them twins.

I have made the brothers characters who believed in the art of pro wrestling long before it was ever popular. In fact, Jim and John attain popularity and money by making it as believable as possible.

Chapter 18 The Twins

Fists crunch.
Hands of young men---just as calloused as working men---clash together, sharply cutting air pockets with fast hands.
Grunts, the sounds of carefully placed feet.

Again, the bare scraping of skin …the closest the DNA had come in 17 years since separation? These guys loved to wrestle.

Since no other boys their age were as sinewy, much less cocky…the Ellis boys knew how to fight. But better yet: they knew how to fake a fight.

Oh, and the crowds it would draw: two physically exact men, …in total mirror form as they clashed and controlled the interact.

“Wormy” Jim said. “…get the bets?”

“You assholes need to wear different shirts”

“I thought you were blue,” John said. His muscles stretched the fabric Red.

“You got the bets, ass shit? And I’m Red dumbass. I have a worse temper. I’m always Red Dipshit.” Jim loved to curse. It was the best way to express an opinion. Out curse the guy, and you’re the bigger man.

“Well tonight’s we both Red Jimbo.”

Jim answered with a punch.

“Owwh. Damn Jim. That wasn’t a fake.”

“Damn right you sonofabitch. I’ll punch your…”

Almost in a flash, the crowd of boys and even bigger boys from Minor High School appeared. “…there they are. Fucking twins.”

“Gentlemen place yor bets,” Wormy---the small boy with a large forehead, said. He was always good for an improvised moment--- “…Red VS Red today…”.

John interrupted. “Red VS Shirtless. Jim is Red on Thursdays.” And with that he stripped his shirt.

John had a better physique than Jim anyway. Jim liked the biscuits and gravy, and even though the crowds couldn’t tell---John knew there was a weight difference between he and his twin brother.

But one thing remained--- they loved to put on a good show. Especially for the older boys. And what a show!

"...damn those boys are crazy."

Later that night, after counting their winnings and mending their ever-so-slight scrapes, the boys laughed in the same evil way. The way they always laughed when they knew something others didn't.

The goal was understood and unspoken.

Make them fear us. Make them worship us. High school would be simple.

“…gonna take that fucking Minor High School.” Jim smirked.