You had to find the positives.

That's what Ronnie was thinking now. He was still $25,000 richer today than he was three weeks ago, he'd been to parts of the world...

Scratch that.

Parts of the universe that he'd never imagined seeing before, and besides it was a tag team match with some of the most bizarre happenings in professional sports history occurring and he had been saddled with a partner more useless than a stint in rehab for the Unknown Soldier.

He was still undefeated in his solo career, a streak that he planned to continue this coming week against Mr. Natural. The man who looked as natural as Chaz Bono's tits.

Ron flicked on his blinker and pulled his old F-150 into the driveway, dreaming of the day it was that King Ranch F-350 he'd seen the other day. A few more months worth of wins and he'd feel that big diesel rumble to life under his feet. He slid out of the cab of the truck, dragging his duffel bag with him and walked up his stairs.

Once again the front door was yanked out of his hands as he turned the key to unlock it.

"DADDY! How was space?! Were there aliens?!"

He laughed as he caught the toddler in a mid-air hug.

"You know what son, I'm not even sure...that was the craziest thing your daddy has ever been a part of."

Shannon swooped in and gave him a kiss on the lips. He was glad to see that coming home with $5,000 less than he'd planned on hadn't soured her attitude.

"I'm proud of you Ron, fighting outside of a space ship like that...they should've paid you your win bonus just for that!"

"No kidding, I tell you what I'm glad that one is over. At least I didn't have to worry about getting any of that filthy addicts fluids on me with the spacesuit."

"Are you fighting another one of those freaks this week?"

"Nah, the only needle this guy uses is one that goes right in his (he pretends to inject himself in the Gluteus with a needle), goes by the name of 'Mr. Natural'."

"Steroid use in professional sports? Why I never?!"

Her feigned shocks makes them both laugh.

"He's built like a brick shithouse, but that's gonna make it that much more enjoyable when I get ahold of one of his arms and crank it."

"That's what I like to hear babe. Who the heck cares about a tag team match anyway?"

"Not me that's for damn sure. Like I said I'm just glad I got out of there without something communicable. Now I have to deal with something worse though, this guy is like one of those characters who goes to the Gym, Tans, and then does his Laundry. It wouldn't surprise me if he shows up to our match in a track suit with a blowout."

"Ugh, make sure you punish him just for that."

"Oh I will, his arrogance is gonna be my biggest advantage. He actually thinks he can fight this fight in my world and still come out the victor. He might have wrestled in the pee wee leagues and watched a few white belt highlight videos on YouTube, but he sure as hell isn't ready for anything I bring to the table."

"Oh Ron, don't talk like that now. Wait until the kids are asleep."

Ron laughed to be polite but he was starting to feel himself get worked up.

"You mind if I go for a run?"

Shannon knew her husband well enough to tell he was getting agitated.

"Of course, just make it a quick one ok? I'm making Chicken Parm for dinner."

"I will hon, a half hour tops."

---------------10 Minutes Later--------------

Golly the pavement felt good underneath his shoes. This all felt so good. The eating right, not drinking, always having a reason to work out because his livelihood depended on it.

The miles kept flowing underneath him.

Now he had an opponent tailor made for him, a pompous ass who actually thought that he has what it takes to hang with someone of Ron Wilkins' pedigree on the mat.

Ron was gonna do what he had to for the people, bash him around with some "foreign objects",make him remember his name, and then he was gonna wait until that muscle bound, wanna-be Barry Bonds tired out and gave up a limb. Then he was gonna take that appendage home and put it on his mantlepiece, right next to Stagger Jones'.

His loop had taken him back to his driveway. Five miles in just under a half hour according to the GPS on his phone. Ron Wilkins was in the best shape of his life and he was only getting better. Mr Natural better get the needles out of his ass and his bitch tits on a treadmill if he expected to survive Saturday night.