Wrestling the Blue

L.T. Garvin

So I found myself walking atop Big Blue trying to talk a vampire down from the ledge. Of course, I knew him, after all, we go way back. Not as far back as we could go, as I’m obviously not a vampire, mind you. He wasn’t even old in vampire years yet, but old enough not to be atop a blue skyscraper acting like a fool. Below us, the town stilled in the night. Big Blue, as it is fondly called, was home to the World Wrestling Federation. No muscles around when you needed them and the club crowds already gone, stumbling out in drunken enchantment, entranced with their evening escapades.

“I can’t go on,” he said.

“You’ve only gone for 50 years now, you have to at least make 500,” I replied with a smirk.

“There’s no help, no help…”

“Social Services, let’s try them again.”

“I hate living…

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