No Place like Spamily (Editing & Ongoing)

Chapter 30

Oscar exclaimed, "Ah!" after being looped over Beer's shoulder and thrown on the floor. He mentally cursed up a storm in his head. That was 12 dollars coming out of his pockets. He panted as he tried to regain his breathing back under control.

I, on the other hand wore an amazed shocked look. Momma Beer was kicking Oscar's ass on the blue mat.

Do I have to explain how it came to this?

"Ready for more?" Beer asked him and reached down to give him a helping hand. Oscar slapped it away, rolled back onto his feet.

"Us Cubans," he panted, his voice throaty. "are always ready. For anything."

"You sure about that because you already owe me..." She turned to me. "How much does he owe me, Bella?" I looked down at the tablet I recovered during this little mix up and calculated the value.

"He now owes you... 50 dollars annnnnnd," I scribbled down more numbers. "99 cents." I looked back up at the both of them. Oscar looked crestfallen, Momma Beer was celebrating with a small victory dance.

She tooted. "Ready to lose more?"

"No." He rose up his boxing gloved dukes. "I'm ready to gain more." Momma Beer nodded thinking that over and giving a satisfied expression in response to his statement. She didn't exactly need the money, but taking it tax-free was something else.

"Well, alright." She rose up her gloves. Then: "Bella, you're up." She stepped aside.

"Uhㅡ" I stuttered, taken aback. Here I was minding my own business acting as an accountant and may I add, doing a terrific job. I wasn't being paid any attention to and I was gracious for that. There were so many reasons, but the main one was this. To definitely not get involved. "Wh-wha...Whaddya mean?"

"I mean get in here." She gestured in her spot. "Let's see what you got."

Again, I was taken aback to the point that my throat choked. See what I got? Uh, hello! Does it look like I got something to see? I have no defensive skills whatsoever. I looked at Oscar. He was going to kick my little fragile a...

Automatically, I craned my neck to look back at Momma Beer realizing why the fuck the sudden change of challenge. I couldn't believe this. My foster Mom was going to use me as an patsy. A patsy! Oh, my God. What was I supposed to do? Give Oscar his money back by playing the helpless victim? That's what Momma Beer wanted which is way she switched because she knew if she started to go easy on him, he would know. But if he fights, let's say someone that's petite and fragile like me from the start, he wouldn't give a damn and take the win unless he's trying to be, but you can't fake a lose with a loser.

"Come on, melon," Oscar said, inviting me over. He bobbed his head back. "I'll go easy on you for a beginner." Melon? Did he just call me a melon as in the fruit? Then on top of that, he knows he can beat my little tush. Ha ha, great...... (Note the strong sarcasm.)

"Fine," I replied meekly and handed Beer the tablet. Something hardened inside of me when all she did was smile happily at me. Did she really think I could beat this guy? Oh, have Mercy. She proceeded to help me with the gloves.

"I'm not going to tell you that you can do it," she told me as she strapped the gloves around my wrist to fit. "because I know you can. He's nothing, but a cuban being." Her lips widen into a big smile. "Now show him who a Spamily is." Before I could say anything about being a Spamily, she tossed me around and lurched me towards a waiting Oscar. "Get ready to go down, Oxy."

He rose a brow, glancing at me. He saw no challenge in me whatsoever. I guess money could change a person's attitude. Soon after he glanced, he started chuckling. "Oh, Beer. Bring it on." He looked at me. "Let's see what you got."