Thursday, January 6th hadn’t been a great day. A loss to Arcana was one thing, but Centurion losing the Anarchy Championship had truly turned out to be the massive rabbit dropping on the cardboard cake. Whilst she wouldn’t have minded spending some time with Centy, he was out for drinks with James Raven… and a boys’ night out was as close to a cure-all as you could get after what he’d been through recently. So instead she was walking Garnet through the cold, dreary, rainy streets of Chicago. The soft patter on her umbrella was actually helping her to calm down a bit, like nature’s ASMR, in spite of the painful jabs in her knee every time she took a step. Trying to ‘walk it off’ probably wasn’t the advice her physio would give her considering her upcoming match against Charlie Nickles, but right now she was prioritizing her mental health over her physical health. Clearing the mind was just as vital when it came to preparing for a big match.

She walked past a homeless man who was huddled up in a big overcoat, trying to use a doorway as a shelter from the rain. There was a dog curled up next to him, who had his head resting on his lap. She dropped five bucks in the hat he had laid out in front of him, hoping it’d help at least a little bit. He thanked her with a courteous nod as Garnet sniffed his dog. Their noses met, and Ruby smiled. She felt guilty for not having given more, and she wanted to do nothing more than pick him up by the arm, get him inside and bring him a hot bowl of soup. Then again, he seemed like he had resigned himself to his fate. But even the friendly twinkle in his eyes couldn’t hide the sadness of a life of drama that had led to a life on the streets.

As soon as the two dogs broke up, Ruby continued. Nevertheless, the pain in her knee kept bothering her, and it was starting to creep towards her ankle as a result of overcompensating for only a half-working limb. She looked to her right, where coincidentally a rather old-school bar was open for business. Unfortunately, there was a ‘no pets allowed’ sign next to the front door, and she looked down at Garnet, whose poor puppy eyes made it clear he didn’t want to be left out on the street alone. Other than that, it was still softly raining and she wasn’t just going to abandon him. Still, she really could do with a pit-stop.

The aha-erlebnis came almost instantaneously. You didn’t get nicknamed the Super Dear’O if you couldn’t turn a problem into a win-win situation in the blink of an eye after all! She walked back over to the homeless guy, and reached into her pocket.

Ruby: “Sup, my dude!? I will give you $50 now, and $50 later if you can dogsit my best boi for a bit. Sound good? Oh, and take the umbrella so you guys can stay out of the rain.”

She handed him a crisp note and Garnet’s leash. The man seemed stunned into silence, but his state of astonishment soon turned into eager excitement. He nodded, took the cash, note and umbrella, and Garnet happily wagged his tail at the man’s dog.

Ruby: “Garnet my good boy, stay with the nice man and his doggo, okay? Yo mams is gonna go for a little drink and a rest. If there’s any sign of trouble, you know the secret Superhowl!”

Garnet barked, knowing fully well what she meant, as Superdogs do. Ruby popped back into the bar.



She was met with the fragrance of coffee and smoked oak. Soothing jazz tunes played over the speakers, and the rain kept on pattering against the windows. It was magical.

A few guys were sitting at the bar, chatting over a beer. Another guy, who seemed quite tall even hunched over on a barstool, was sitting by himself enjoying what seemed to be a steaming cup of tea. Other patrons were strewn throughout the place, sitting in comfy booths enjoying snacks and drinks. And behind the bar was the tender… he was drying off some glasses, but kept on looking at the smartphone he had laid down in front of him.

Ruby took a seat at the bar. She motioned the bartender over, who put down his glass and towel.

Nick: “Hi there, my name’s Nick. What can I get you, kiddo? Fancy a soda?”

Ruby chuckled. Classic. Her being mistaken for someone over ten years her junior was a common occurrence every time she walked into a bar. The funny thing was that she was most likely older than the bartender himself. He still smelled of college and all of the benefits that came with it. She leaned on the counter and took her wallet, sliding her ID under his nose..

Ruby: “Not quite, Saint Nick my guy. I’m like, thirty. And that’s no fake ID, or I’d have to take myself into vigilante custody, you can believe that!”

The bartender grinned, and spread his arms.

Nick: “Well then, welcome to our humble establishment, Miss Debuchy from… Canada? Wow! Welcome to the States! It is ‘miss’, right?

Ruby: “I’m not married, if that’s what you’re asking. But very much taken.”

The bartender chuckled.

Nick: “I apologize, that did seem like a come-on. But no…”

His eyes darted between his phone and Ruby.

Nick: “I’m afraid I’m taken as well. At least I hope so….”

He cast his eyes downward, but before Ruby could ask what was going on, he put his gameface back on again, and smiled.

Nick: “So what can I get you?”

Rubbing her knee, Ruby considered her options for a bit.

Ruby: “You know how to make a Corpse Reviver? I feel like I could use one right now. A regular one will do, no need for the 1.1 beta version, or fancy bitters.”

Nick: “That shouldn’t be a problem…”

The bartender got to work, mixing equal parts Hennessy Fine de Cognac, Calvados, and Martini Rosso Vermouth into a chilled coupe glass, before serving it with some cubed ice.

Nick: “So, what brings you to Chicago, Miss Canada?”

Ruby: “Love, I guess? I’ve been living here for a while now. I just showed you my Canadian passport to look more exotic. But no, my boyfriend lives in a ridiculously huge and expensive multi-floored penthouse. Although I’d be with him if he lived in a cardboard box, to tell you the truth.”

She took a sip of her Corpse Reviver. It was nearly perfect. Ruby was impressed. It was fruity and potent, with a long, soft finish from the two brandies; spiced and sweetened ever so slightly by the vermouth.

Ruby: “See, we both do this wrestling thing. And while I’ve been at it for well over a decade, he’s done it even longer. But yeah, I’ve got some experience. I’ve stepped into the ring with some nasty, nasty characters. Sadists, psychos, irradiated giants from Armenia, mobsters, Bhutanese monks, dudes possessed by demonic entities, dudes suffering from multiple personality disorder, dudes who are ‘just’ paranoid schizophrenics, cowboys,... But even having gone through all of them, and having beaten pretty much all of those, there’s really nothing that prepares you for having to face a lunatic with a barbed wire baseball bat looking to turn your face into a piece of art deco. Which is exactly what I’m getting with Charlie Nickles on the next show we’re doing. A mean, nasty piece of work with zero regard for the human condition. If Mister Nickles weren’t a dime a dozen, he might even be an interesting case study for an ambitious youngster looking to make a name for herself up in Quantico. Unfortunately for them, that ship sailed about… thirty years ago, I think. Guys like him are pretty much what they cover in Chapter One of the textbooks now.”

As she was talking, the bartender kept on looking over at his phone. He wasn’t trying to be rude, she thought. Instead, he seemed legitimately disconcerted. Ruby took another sip, and raised an eyebrow.

Ruby: “Apologies, my dude. I’m either boring the flip out of you, or am keeping you from doing something extremely important.”

The guy sighed, and hung his head before taking his phone and looking at the screen.

Nick: “I apologize, miss. I’m being a terrible host. It’s just… this girl and I have been texting and we went on a date or two… I really, really like her, but now she’s saying she’s unsure about what she wants, and thinks it’s all going way too soon. And I don’t know what to do! Do I reassure her that it’s just casual, which… isn’t true, because I really like her? Or do I push her, and risk pushing her away completely?”

Ruby nodded. She knew what he was going through.

Ruby: “My guy, it’s impossible to predict what the future has in store for any of us. That’s why we all feel such a need to judge the past. We’d rather look back and think of how our present day might be different if only we’d acted differently. But that’s not how you achieve your dreams. If my mans hadn’t come up to me one day and said: ‘I really like you. I want you, and I think we’d be great together’, then… Well, let’s just say he had plenty of bad experiences to look back at. And so did I, really. But we took a leap. But I’d never have taken it if he didn’t have the guts to make that first step. And to this day, I’m very glad he did.”

Nick was sweating right now.

Nick: “So what are you saying?”

Ruby: “Go to her, my dude! Right now! Go knock on her door, bring flowers, chocolate, booze, comics, whatever takes her fancy! If you like her, isn’t the prospect of her worth a potential door in your face? Of course it is.”

NIck started shaking. It looked like he wanted nothing more than to burst out of the bar and go tell his crush he wanted to be with her.

Nick: “But… my shift… I can’t…. I’m working!”

The Super Dear’O smelled another win-win.

Ruby: “My guy, I worked as a bartender in a busy nightclub for over two years. I’m gonna cover your shift! Go tell that girl you’re crazy about her! Now!”

Nick: “...you sure?”

Ruby: “NOW!!”

Nick nodded nervously, and took off his apron before darting out the front door. Ruby, fully intending to live up to her promise, hopped over the counter and took place behind the bar. She grabbed a towel and started rubbing stains out of the counter.

Ruby: “Well, this brings back memories…”

The tall guy sitting at the bar, who had just finished his cup of tea, looked up at her. He looked strangely familiar, even if Ruby was certain she’d never met him before.

Ruby: “Looks like you’re running empty there, my dude. Can this humble Banana-Lime Blur serve you anything else? I’m a cocktail expert, but if you want another fresh chamomile tea, then say the word, and Bob’s your uncle!”

The guy smiled, and Ruby snapped her fingers.

Ruby: “I know! I’m gonna serve you my specialty, the Flip!”

Ruby went to work, rummaging through the bar’s many bottles and ingredients. She grabbed a tankard, and added two ounces of Bacardi 8 Rum, 6 and ¾ oz. of dark ale, a few dashes of sugar and molasses before topping it off with some grated nutmeg. She used a stove-heated iron spoon to stir the contents, making the contents froth and bubble.

Ruby: “Hogwarts’ School for Witchcraft and Wizardry missed their star pupil when they didn’t send me a letter, let me tell you that! I’d have been a potions master!”

She handed the tankard to the guy, and inspected him more closely.

Ruby: “I swear, I know you from SOMEWHERE! Have we met?? We haven’t, right? I mean, I’ve met a fair few amount of peeps in my day, doing what I do… My very first opponent was a girl named Jenny Cross, and it went allllll the way down there, right on to Charlie Nickles… Although he apparently has moved on from nickles, and made his way to the crypto-currency market! Which is something I’ll never understand. Crypto’s are like an e-reader, whereas real money is like reading a genuine paper book, right? His Berncoin is probably not even real, or a scam. And what kind of name is Charlie Nickles anyway? So weird, to put a derivative of your actual name right in front of a sort of old school currency that…”

Ruby’s eyes grew large, before pointing at the tall dude.

Ruby: “Oh my flippin’ word! YOU’RE DANNY DIMES!”

Daniel Jones, NY Giants quarterback, unmasked at long last, grinned and held up his hands.

Daniel Jones: "You got me!"

Ruby: “No flippin’ WAY, dude! What are you doing in Chi-town? Don’t the Bears have both Fields and Foles under contract for next season? Because no offense, but the Giants aren’t going to extend you, are they? Or ARE they?”

Daniel laughed, and shook his head.

Daniel Jones: "I don’t know about that. I’m an NFL quarterback, I just go out there, try to execute and get better every day!"

Ruby: “Wow, this is like an actual post-match interview, it feels like! No but seriously, why are you here?”

Daniel Jones: "I like coming to Chicago. It’s nice and quiet here for quarterbacks, seeing as this city’s never really had one. They just don’t recognize me here. I like New York, but… rough market, girl."

Ruby: “Oof, I can imagine. I’m mostly a Broncos gal myself, no offense,...”

Daniel Jones: "Indeed, they do have no offense!"

Ruby laughed, and smacked the bar.

Ruby: “Hah! Classic! It’s funny ‘cause the Giants had negative passing yards against the Bears! Although between you and me, that Glennon dude is pretty bad, my guy.”

Daniel Jones: "Ruby, that’s the world’s worst kept secret."

Ruby: “Maaan, I shouldn’t talk poorly about the guy. He seems nice. And so do you! Now, are you gonna drink my Flip, or what?”

Daniel Jones: "Is that a euphemism?"

Ruby: “Yeah, for ‘keep your hands where I can see them, ‘cause this ain’t London and Big Ben ain’t bonging tonight’.”

Daniel Jones: "Touché."

Ruby: “Quite the opposite, actually. Anyway…”

She grabbed a Havana glass, and poured herself a mixture of rum ‘n coke, finishing it off with a lime wedge.By far the easiest thing she had concocted thus far.

Ruby: “A toast! To new opponents, and new friends! To Charlie Nickles, and Danny Dimes! To future victories, and… possible extensions? I’m rooting for ya, bud! Cheers!”

Ruby sipped her Cuba Libre, and as Daniel Jones picked up the tankard, he accidentally dropped it to the floor.

Daniel Jones: "Oops! Butterfingers!"

Ruby: “Come on, my guy, you flippin’ fumbled the Flip!”

*fin*