THE SWEETEST SCIENCE

MaggieMae: It had been a long week, hell it had been a long month. I just went to the bookstore to decompress a little bit and smell the pages of the old books when I saw this book that just seemed to call to me. It was on sale and covered in dust but the title just seemed to grab me. So I picked it up carried at home and later that night laying in bed I decided to open it up and see what it was all about. But as I did a stack of old pictures fell out and I was suddenly staring at this boxer from what looked like it had to have been the 1920s. He had a long lanky body but a Fierce and determined look as he held up his gloves posing for the camera. My mind instantly wondered who he was what his story was and how good of a boxer he could have been. But it was also about that time that the exhaustion set in and as I held the picture with head resting on the pillow I suddenly drifted off to sleep and when I startled awake I was no longer in my bedroom, I was in a boxing ring standing across from the man in the picture!

Charlie_Milner: "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, sports fans across the country tuning in from your parlors, kitchens, and neighborhood soda shops—this is Walter ‘Rusty’ Griggs comin’ to you live from the bustling Stanton Pavilion, right here in the heart of Cincinnati, Ohio, on this fine Saturday evening, the 30th of May, 1932! We’ve got ourselves a real humdinger of a prizefight tonight, a rare and rousing spectacle, I tell ya—a gentleman versus a lady in the squared circle, under the glare of the Edison arcs and to the roar of the packed house!"

Charlie_Milner: "Now make no mistake, folks, this ain’t no novelty act or penny-ante exhibition—this is a sanctioned multi-round affair, Queensberry rules, eight-ounce gloves, and a ring that’s already seen its fair share of blood and thunder this summer."

Charlie_Milner: "In the red corner—standing a trim five feet five inches tall, tipping the scales at a wiry one-thirty-five, lean as a greyhound and just as quick—we’ve got the Cincinnati Buzzer himself, Charlie Milner. Thirty years of age, known for his whiplash jab and a sharp left hook that’s sent many a lad to dreamland. Don’t let the size fool ya—Charlie’s a slick little buzzsaw in the ring, all limbs and leverage. He’s clad tonight in classic yellow satin trunks trimmed in white, matching laces on his black leather boots, and a mop of jet-black hair slicked back tighter than a prohibition raid."

Charlie_Milner: "And now, in the blue corner—hoo boy, folks, brace yourselves—making her pro debut after a celebrated amateur run through the Women’s Interstate Boxing Club, it’s the pride of Springfield, Missouri… Maggie Mae! At five feet ten and a mere one twenty-six, she’s tall, rangy, and built like a willow branch—but don’t let her grace fool you, friends, this dame's got dynamite in both mitts. Twenty-three years young, eyes cold as ice, and a right cross that’d make Jack Dempsey blink. She’s wearin’ tan trunks with a maroon stripe, snug lace-up boots, and a sleeveless woolen tank in matching maroon…. Midriff exposed …hair tied in tails, but something tells me it won’t stay that way."

Charlie_Milner: "The crowd’s murmuring—some in awe, some in doubt—but every eye is glued to that canvas tonight. You can feel it in the air, folks… that electric hum before the storm. Charlie’s already shadowboxing in the corner, light on his feet, all calm concentration. Maggie stands tall, gloves raised, nodding slowly—no nerves, no smiles, just that steely look that says: I came here to win."

Charlie_Milner: "So pour yourself a cold sarsaparilla, light up a Lucky if you’re so inclined, and lean in close to that radio, friends. This ain’t just a fight—it’s history in the making. The bell’s about to ring… and when it does, anything goes but the low blows!" “This is Rusty Griggs, ringside, signing you into round one—let’s get to it!”

Charlie_Milner: I stand in my corner, bouncing lightly on the balls of my feet, eyes locked on the towering silhouette across the ring. "She’s tall, sure—rangy too—but I’ve taken down bigger," I mutter to myself, jaw tight behind my mouthguard. The crowd noise faded as I zero in, every ounce of focus honed to the narrow space between her gloves. "That reach’ll be trouble if I let her set the pace...." as my mind discusses strategy with me. My gloved fists twitch with anticipation. "Don’t give her an inch, Charlie. Make her regret takin' the fight."

Charlie_Milner:

MaggieMae: My mind is still settling in to the sudden teleport into the past. Hearing a few hints that give me my bearings. I'm in Cincinnati and this is their Hometown boy! His name is Charlie and he's got quite the reputation by the Roar of the fans As You Are announced. I looked down at my gloves and smack them together and get myself bouncing on my toes to try to get my body ready for what I'm about to ask it to do. Suddenly behind me a voice of encouragement shouts out like a packet of gravel, you were born for this kid! Put them on his ass just like you did those boys back in missouri! I look back and see a older gentleman with a cigar hanging out of his mouth looking up at me with pride and I raise up my right fist and Nod at the show of support as I turn back to you and bite down on my mouth guard also going over in my head what my first course of action should be to start to do exactly what my coach is telling me. I raised my gloves up to acknowledge the ref's signal and then he turns to the hometown boy asking you if you are ready in my heart races as I know that Bell is about to sound

Charlie_Milner: I nod as I hear the ref bark to acknowledge I'm ready. I nod confidently when.....

Charlie_Milner: "... and there's the bell for round 1..."

Charlie_Milner: I lift my gloves and step out, eyes locked on you. "She’s tall—damn, taller than she looked across the ring—" and what originally looked calm like a statue carved in confidence from that distance, now looks a bit nerved. Your arms hang loose but ready, gloves twitching. My standard orthodox stance, gloves up, I circle slow, feet light, watching the way your shoulders move, how you blink. You're not flinching. The echo of the bell that cracked through the air like a starter’s pistol now faded, my pulse jumps. No rush. I ease forward, slipping just to the left, reading your stance, watching those long arms float up like wings. You mirror me, steady. No wasted motion. Just me and you, locked in now—no turning back.

MaggieMae: There are a few wolf whistles coming from the crowd as I step out and assume my stance across from you. For most people in the crowd this is the first time they've seen a man box a woman and we are quite the sight as I Tower over you. Circling to my left and mirroring your Orthodox stance. You can feel the tension in the air and my eyes are still so curious about who this man really is across from me but just from your introduction I know that you are no one to take lightly and so I try to get off to a quick start probing your defenses with a left Jab aimed at your nose which brings a hoot from the crowd that the little lady is the one who fires off first

Charlie_Milner: I see that jab flick up—fast, but more of a tester than a threat—and I don’t bite. I dip my head just enough to let it slip past, the leather brushing air near my cheek as I roll with it. A ripple of noise surges from the crowd, but I tune it out. My eyes stay locked on yours. “So she’s not just here to pose.” I smirk behind my guard, just a twitch of the lip. You want to see what I’ve got? Fine. I keep circling, low and coiled now, hands up but elbows tucked in tight. I won’t give you much—just enough to tempt you again. You seem to have the desire to try and read me. Swatting out a jab doesn’t get you past the title page. I feign my left to see how you react, then wink and stay at center, moving, weaving, bobbing, and gliding. No stationary target here.

MaggieMae: You show off that quickness as my job whoosh is past your head and we keep up the dance. Showing me a little bit of your sassy side as you try to tease me with that wink but not backing down just moving trying to find that opening that I'm Desiring as well. But I don't bite on your little show. I instead touch her gloves again with my left just a probe just to measure see how you react and then as I recoil my left I suddenly with a right hook trying to catch you still stationary with a body shot to your ribs

Charlie_Milner: Your right hook comes low and sudden—but I see the shift in your shoulder before it fires; the tell I was looking for, and I catch it on my left elbow, tucking in hard as I absorb the blow. It thuds, solid, but glides off my sweat sheen elbow and forearm. That’s all I need. You’re overextended just enough. I snap a tight left hook over your stretched-out right, glove popping hard toward your right jawline. “Pssh” looking for a clean smack against flesh from my leather, as I step in, taking away that precious space you’re trying to measure. No reset for you. Now I’m right where I want to be—tight and mean. I look to dig a short, vicious right hook into YOUR left ribs, trying to bury the glove in deep and close. In your kitchen now, chest brushing yours, boots crowding your footing. No more distance. Just pressure. I grunt low with the shot, “Ussh”, eyes locked on your expression. Let’s see how you like getting crowded early.

MaggieMae: The "Buzzer" brings the hometown crowd to its feet as you land true and it whips my head to the side letting you get inside suddenly body to body with this brawler as I get a feel for his style. Feeling your breath on my chest as our eyes meet. a million words silently exchanged as you test me. I try to twist my hips and push my left shoulder into yours to show you i wont be easily bullied before pivoting and swinging a right hook low into your body trying to punch some respect as we go Toe to Toe for the first time

Charlie_Milner: “Ohhh mercy, folks! The ‘Buzzer’ just buzzed her chin clean with that left! Milner lands a nasty face slapping sharp hook over Mae’s reaching arm, and just like that—he’s in! The crowd erupts here at Stanton Pavilion, stomping the floorboards as the local boy crashes the gate and gets chest-to-chest with the rangy debutante! Now they’re tight—real tight—like a pair of dancers who forgot the music. Maggie’s head snapped clean to the side and Milner took full advantage, stepping inside like a man breaking through the front door…..”

Charlie_Milner: They talk about electricity running through one's arm in a fight like this... and that felt like a 220v jolt up my left arm when it connected flush. Unloading the follow right was the polar opposite, like a torpedo that didn't detonate on contact, missing its mark from your 'counter measure' left shoulder. But, in my view, you show something that I would call inexperience or naiveté as you bring that right back for an encore to a performance that flatlined earlier. That right hook lands in almost the same place, on my elbow with a slap that sounds worse than it is. It too smacks the sweaty flesh of my forearm which was back in place in plenty of time. Well who am I to turn down this gift as after the contact, I stay in tight, but instead of going upstairs, I shift my torso and look to bury an inside right hook "Uush!" and attempt to take a chunk of your body with it, driving it with my hip shift and planted feet. Then already inside, I snap a quick inside uppercut trying to crack it into your chin driving it up center mass.... attempting to jiggle your faculties... "nnssh!"

MaggieMae: The crowd gets Rowdy as the hometown boy sends an electric combination that thumbs against my body making my peppermint breath Escape past my lips as my butt Jets back a little bit and then your power that uppercut to my chin that makes me take a few steps back. The crowd rising up on its feet as they sense a potential early knockout. But I try to Shake It Off circling along the ropes trying to make you chase me as I work to get a few moments to clear my head. Looking over at you still trying to figure out how this is all happening but I need to get it together because I'm feeling these punches and so far I've run into your wall of Defense

Charlie_Milner: “And Maggie Mae tries to answer back—digs in for another right hook to the ribs, but Milner’s having none of it! He tucks that left elbow in like a steel gate slamming shut, stonewalls the shot cold, and then—oh lord, folks—he counters!”

Charlie_Milner: Charlie turns loose a brutal right hook of his own, and it lands flush—buried deep into Maggie’s left flank like it’s tryin’ to carve real estate! You could hear the thud up here at ringside! And before she can even wince, Milner reloads and fires an inside uppercut that rips through her chin like a firecracker under the Fourth of July sky!”

Charlie_Milner: “Maggie Mae’s rocked! She stumbles back—legs still under her, but just barely—and the crowd here in Cincinnati is going wild! They’re on their feet, hollerin’, whistlin’, they smell blood! Could this be an early end to the dance?"

Charlie_Milner: “But give the girl credit—she’s circling now, keeping those long legs moving, trying to buy herself a moment to clear the fog. She’s hurt, make no mistake, but she’s still in there, eyes searching, trying to figure out what kind of thunderstorm she just walked into named Charlie Milner.”

Charlie_Milner: The crowd frenzied as my gloved fists do their job to perfection. The uppercut, the weapon that looks like it was the catalyst for your spontaneous, unscripted wobbly retreat, you call the rope your friend as you use them as a steadying post for your glassy-eyed, rubber-kneed reset. I can't let you do so.... I have to pressure you.... my pudgy corner barking...."pressure dammit!" I step laterally trying to herd you and keep you near or on those ropes noticing you seem to be lost in a maze of "how did I get here". I feint high faking the left as if going face and temple to keep your hands up, I then look rip a right hook to YOUR obliques, going to the body again—"Ussh!" and a quick reload and NOW bring the right upstairs looking to crash it into that left jaw and cheek "Pshh!" wanting to get it in your head my compact frame is more than a nightmare for you to handle as I crowd you.

MaggieMae: My brain is screaming at me to fight back as you pressure me having against the ropes. Your skin glistening with sweat as you keep that focus on your face. You go to throw that first combination my glove rise up to protect my chin but you go low and thump my body with another good combination that brings the crowd to its feet again as my butt Jets back into the ropes another time. But I am starting to feel your Rhythm and as you reload this time I'm expecting that shot coming in high and this time I go low letting your hook swing over the top of my head and thumping left right of my own into your body before I step forward into closing the Gap the rest of the way and grabbing hold of you in a clinch that does not seem to be a popular move with the crowd as I slow down the action and go chest to chest with you breathing in your ear as I try to make you handle my size while on the ref works to separate us!

Charlie_Milner: Like a dance combination with many elements, our soiree into the 'fistic arts' has reached its first climactic moment when my torpedo-like right caves your body in and against the ropes. The crowd gets its money's worth as the wolves' whistles return in spades. But that first right may have been 'too good' as you fold a bit low and my reloaded right upstairs creates a breeze the first two rows of spectators could feel "nmfph uuhnn!" your leather-clad body bombs detonate into my core. I fold around them and thank God you go to clinch, because those two shots were good and smacked against my lithe frame hard. The crowd taunts you with their jeers now, as our bodies become one at their center. I can feel your arms more gangly than expected and certainly creating the respite you needed (as do I). The ref tries to dig in between, but he's finding it tough as you grasp like a python to a tree. I can not only hear but feel your fast breathing. Another tell... winded.... my breathing is fast as well and had it not been for the body shots.... it may have not been as rapid as it was.... The ref barks "Break. BREAK dammit!" and pries his way inside shoving both of us back. "When I say break, you fucking break, get me?" I nod as if I've been scolded by my dad and get my gloves up ready to continue.

MaggieMae: As we get separated I back up to the ropes again getting a little bit extra distance between us as I raise my gloves up to acknowledge the rest but my eyes are locked on you has no gamble hammers signaling to everyone that there's 10 seconds left in the round and it has a rough calls back to box. I hesitate at first making you think maybe I'm going to let the last couple seconds try to run out hoping that you'll start to chase me down. I take a step back and circle away from you but then suddenly stop and power my left straight towards your nose being sure to have my right hand cocked ready to strike in case you look for another slick counter...

Charlie_Milner: The ref chimes "BOX!" as the final seconds tick. My gloves up as I take a deep breath and exhale to get rid of any relinquishing unrest. Your reset 'retreat' isn't a retreat at all and you look to bring a straight left power bomb coming for my face center mass. I am in no position to counter and so I simply lean back on my pivot foot and shift my head and shoulders right... the left whizzes by and gives my cheek a little sear, but it misses the mark completely.... I could throw the right counter, but it wouldn't have the power....Then as I reset.... and the ref bolts in between us... "TIME!" he gives us both a look and we know to head to our corners. I give you a wink. "Nice try, Mags." and I walk to a foggy corner, suddenly mist surrounds us as the crowd muffles when I sit in my stool. "hmmmm, surreal" I say to myself, not questioning the atmospheric change... Seated I get some water and some advice. Shocked.... my trainer says I need to improve.... ever the encourager.

MaggieMae: My punch again just misses you and the Cincinnati buzzer stands his ground as the bell rings and were just to chest. You tease me about just missing the mark and I fire back, it's just a matter of time honey! And then I turned and move to my corner. My trainer giving me the once over about protecting my chin but he knows that this was going to be a tough challenge so his message is positive showering me with advice as I nod and take in all the information. Still totally infatuated with how I got here. The air heavy and musky. The smell of sweat heavy in the non air conditioned building. The sweat is just dripping off of us.

MaggieMae: I'm starting to get used to the feel of the old fashioned attire. Flexing my hands inside of the gloves. Peeking over my trainer shoulders and looking over at you. That was piercing the eyes in that long winky body looking tough and giving me problems in the first round but I took your shots and I was able to come back and throw right back at you. I'm feeling encouraged and my trainer is helping get me motivated to have a better second round

Charlie_Milner: Sitting in my corner, not sure how the mist has taken over the ring and gym. My trainer's grizzly voice barking at me... "Id say good things, but that's go to your head. When you listen to me, good things happened there. When you didn't, you got popped. She's taller, leaner, so use your strengths. We talked about this." I nod and try to decipher where this strange mist is coming from. Then it seems to miraculously fade and shift as I hear, "BOXERS READY?" I get my mouthguard in, stand up, fresh, ready, and as if the parting of the Red Sea, the mist fades.... there you are, looking at me. I'm focused and ready. When..... ....the ref drops his hand from center ring....."BOX!"

Charlie_Milner: “Ladies and Gentlemen, the round gets heated as the fighters....they’re tight—real tight—like a pair of dancers who forgot the music. Maggie’s head snapped clean to the side and Milner took full advantage, stepping inside like a man breaking through the front door…..”

Charlie_Milner: “OHH! Ttwo body bludgeoning body shots from Mae rattle the ‘Buzzer’ as now they’re locked up in a clinch—foreheads pressed, gloves tangled, both fighters breathing heavy here in the final seconds of a blistering first round! Charlie Milner, still riding that early momentum, has bulldozed his way into Maggie Mae’s space again, smothering her shots and keeping the pressure glued on tight.”

Charlie_Milner: “Maggie, to her credit, is holding her own in the close quarters, trying to catch her breath and shake the cobwebs, arms wrapped just enough to stall the storm. But make no mistake, folks—Milner’s body-to-body now, chin tucked, and you can see he’s whispering something in that clinch. Not sure what he said, but it sure ain’t sweet talk!”

Charlie_Milner: “And there’s the bell! The ref wedges his way between ’em, pries apart the tangle of arms, and sends ’em both to their corners—Charlie with that same sharp glare, and Maggie giving a slight nod, still feeling those punches echo in her ribs.” “If you weren’t a believer before… you are now. What a round!”

Charlie_Milner: "Between rounds now, and both corners are alive with motion—buckets clanking, towels snapping, and voices sharp as razors. Charlie’s corner is all business—his trainer leaning in, jabbing a finger as if toward Maggie’s side, clearly telling the Buzzer to keep digging where it hurts. They’re dabbing his brow, icing his ribs, but Milner’s eyes haven’t left center ring—not for a second. Across the way, Maggie Mae’s team is working quick—rubbing her shoulders, splashing water on the back of her neck, giving her the full fire-up treatment. You can see them urging her to stay long, stay smart, use that reach before Charlie turns it into a phone booth again.

Charlie_Milner: "Now here they come—rising from their stools like two chess pieces being moved into battle. Milner—shorter, stockier—looks spring-loaded, like a coiled jackrabbit in gloves. Still calm, still sharp, but with that same brawler’s gleam in his eyes. And Maggie? You’d never know she got stung last round—head high, gloves up, eyes focused. She’s shaking off that fog and coming out looking like she’s got something to prove.” “Two fighters, both reset. Both ready. Round two’s about to light the fuse—and I’ve got a feeling the fireworks are just getting started….."

Charlie_Milner: "... …. And THERE’S the bell….”

MaggieMae: you beat me to the punches in that first round. the whole thing so surreal! i mean what is this place? but after getting bullied by the Cincinnati Buzzer for most of the opening round, i know one thing, the boy can box. but as the bell sounds for round 2, I start to embrace the idea that this isn't a fantasy....this is real...YOU are real and you're HUNGRY to knock me out and advance your career!

MaggieMae: as the bell sounds i smack my gloves together, still loving how the old (new?) gloves sound. I come right back to the middle of the ring, showing you and the fans, I'm still here to fight you! and as we close the distance I'm ready for you. gloves up and ready to strike as we start our dance

Charlie_Milner: The bell clangs for round two, and I’m already on my feet, boots scuffing the canvas as I push off my corner stool. My breath’s steady. My gloves feel light. You’re still standing—but now I see it in your eyes: you believe this is real. You feel the danger. Good. I roll my shoulders once, smack my gloves together—pop...pop—not for show, but to remind myself that I’m right where I want to be. I step forward as you do, both of us claiming center ring like it's sacred ground. You’ve got your guard up now—sharper than last round—but I’ve tasted your rhythm, felt your reach. I’m already adjusting.

Charlie_Milner: "You’re still here?" I mutter low, more a challenge than a question, eyes locked with yours. "Let’s see how long that lasts." I keep my guard tight, legs bent, and slide in just enough to start the dance again. No rush. I want you to feel the pressure building as I shift and weave, again, not wanting to be that stationary target (nor get barked at by my curmudgeonly cornerman). Also not wanting to allow you to dictate pace or get ‘settled in’, I slap out a left jab to keep you honest looking to test that defense, then quickly shift my position and skip step right, then pop a classic 1-2, left jab, straight right going face center mass for both, twisting my torso as I pop each glove “pssh pssh”

MaggieMae: gawd there it is...that condescending, "get back in the kitchen" attitude that most of these men in this crowd share... but I'm not rattled. I know you're determined and brimming with confidence, but my legs are coming to me. parrying your jab with my left but then you show your true intentions. snapping out that left jab, bobbing my head back just out of range as you work your way back in. but the right just misses kissing my lips as I Bob my head and show some of my agility. trying to loop my right up under your left arm to your chin..

MaggieMae: then shifting my hips and pivoting away to the left...circling back toward the middle but suddenly firing a left hook aiming just above your ear as my corner calls out for me to stay on the attack "Don't let this bum bully ya maggs!"

Charlie_Milner: We both seem to be chess players as immediately we look for a Zudzwang (counter) to each move. And with the swiftness of the current movement, I may not have 'exposed my King', but I exposed my chin as my classic combo fails, you showing great head movement. Suddenly

Charlie_Milner: Not my first rodeo, and seeing that left extend, I reset and plant my foot as I let your natural body movement come to me from the momentum of your hook. I step low, then duck and tuck, coming under the hook. A quick left and right hook coming for your ribs and belly is the goal and make you pay for the early salvo you unloaded... "pssh pfft"... and try to fold that flat tummy around my glove and get this action going.

Charlie_Milner: "Milner pops his left like a shotgun blast, then comes with the classic 1-2..... Maggie's skillset on full display as she gracefully and elegantly slips and weaves.... OOOH! a big counter crashes into Milner's chin as he stumbles away. The follow misses, but Milner ate a good chunk of leather with that exchange.....things are heating up fast here in round 2...."

MaggieMae: I knock you off balance momentarily and I crinkle my nose as if to say "yep I can hit hard too!" but you come right back into me and i try to measure you circling to my left as you try to go to my body, looking to punish you with my reach advantage, snapping my left jab out...and not once but twice into your nose, then your right eye. I want to fluster this champ after you so easily bodied me in the opening stanza! the crowd getting into it as this round is turning into a fight that has both corners cussing at their fighter..

Charlie_Milner: The first jab snaps my nose—“<pff!>...Gnuh!”—and my head jerks back, just a tick. The second catches my right cheekbone, ".. Nngg!" stings sharp, makes that eye twitch. Then the third—a crisp sting "... nnnnuh!".. that sends sweat flying as the crowd erupts, thinking you're turning the tide. I blink, grunt, roll my neck. I felt those, no doubt. You're fast, and you're getting clever. But I don’t step back. I step in. "Alright then," I mutter under my breath, licking a bit of blood off my lip. "You wanna box? Let's brawl instead." I raise my guard, keep the head moving side to side now, and look to cut off your escape route to the left. You’ve found your range. Your jabs? They’ve pissed me off. Time to drag you right back into the fire. I attempt to go inside and take away that reach advantage, feigning the left as if going body, instead bringing it up and around, sweeping a left hook looking for YOUR right cheek and eye.... "Psssh"... and use my hand speed to combo it with the right that wants to lay ping pong with your head... "Pshhhh!"

MaggieMae: My combination lands I can hear crowd react to the woman finally starting to put some offense together against the local favorite.. but they also cheer you on and you don't back down. Both of us and glaring at each other now in a mix of professionalism but also intensity. Daring each other to fight back in both of us willing to answer the charge

MaggieMae: As you go to get inside look to greet you with a right uppercut straight up the middle within your left hooks around thumping against my right cheek sending flying and bringing the tears of your fans back prominence. I get my gloves up just in time to deflect the follow up right. And I quickly Circle and swing a left hook of my own towards your cheek as I try to keep you that range. Taking a couple steps and then stopping and suddenly trying to drive a straight right to your solar plexus

Charlie_Milner: "Milner eats a blistering stiff three punch combo sending sweat and some of his senses in the crowd, stepping back, clearly dazed by the blows... resetting and not relenting, he slips inside as Mae's followup uppercut that barely misses..... Milner looks like the pro he is with a NASTY counter left hook that clubs Mae's cheekbone sending the crowd roaring into the now in close exchange. This is a real Midwest twister ladies and gentlemen...."

Charlie_Milner: When you eat the left, what smile I would have displayed is immediately erased with the ..".... nnguhf!" ... blistering hook that caves in my cheek bone.... you are definitely getting the better of these exchanges as my boxer's instinct tells me to turtle up.... and I do as your right comes for my core center mass upstairs near my Solar plexus.... Your glove drives into my forearms and I stumble back from the force. Having eaten a few too many blows, I try to stay in close not give you the chance to extend those arms....I drop my left shoulder as if coming in low again, but this time it's not a feint, shifting and twisting my torso, looking to drive a power left hook at your ribs... "usssh"... and quickly reloading it and bring the left upstairs through your elbows hoping to clap that chin hard... "uuush!"... I'm here, and it's gonna take more to get me to back off wanting to punish you inside.

MaggieMae: I taste your power again but then I give you another dose as I try to box the respect into this guy. You do a good job of protecting your body but my punches still back you up a bit and I just stalk you across the ring. However you step inside and bring the crowd back to allowed pitch with a good combo that mostly bounces off my elbows against my body then you send a shower flying from my hair with that good uppercut. Take a step back is my knees wobble just a bit but I bite down hard on my mouth guard stop right forward and swing a left hook toward your liver and then fire a right uppercut of my own trying to answer your power with power. The faintest hint gavel telling the ref that there are just 10 seconds left in this round as we go to war late in the second

Charlie_Milner: "Mae and Milner exchanging at center ring. Two skilled fighters giving the crowd the pugilistic prowess show everyone expected. Mae tries to go body....OH There's a monster uppercut from Milner that simply tags Mae's chin, the sweat soaked hair flailing in the air. Her knees look a bit unsturdy from the cannon ball....."

Charlie_Milner: There's a moment in every fight when you either believe in your fight strategy or... you don't. I am all in with mine when that uppercut crashes into your exposed chin. You step back again and I feel like I've got you on your heels. My right still set and tucked and the left recoiling to continue to try to maneuver inside keeping the head moving side to side, while still pursuing cutting off more ring, you shift and move at me suddenly. The swiping left hook batters right elbow; liver intact, but ... "

MaggieMae: The crowd lets out an audible gasp as I catch you with that counter! NO! COME ON CHARLIE! some drunk guy bellows. I see some of that spittle coming off your lips I know you didn't expect that. I think everyone is a little shocked as you rarely look to clinch but here you are embracing tall opponent to stop me from unloading another garage. Your chin pressing into my shoulder as I my forehead into your cheek. And for the first time you get to really hear my naturally raspy voice in your ear. "I'm the one your mom warned you about Buzzer!" not Totally sure how my trash talk will translate in 1925, but as the bell clangs to end the round, our sweaty bodies are reluctantly pried apart as we both had our will tested in that round...

Charlie_Milner: When the bell cuts through the din like a hammer on steel, ref sliding through us as if he wanted a piece of both of us, I lower my gloves, chest heaving from the back-and-forth. Sweat drips off my brow as I turn and make the short walk back to my corner—but I can already see him. There he is. Fifty years in the fight game, scowl carved deeper than most trenches in France, arms crossed like a disappointed schoolmaster. The towel’s slung over his shoulder, but he doesn’t offer it. Not yet. As I slump onto the stool, his voice comes in low—but cutting.

Charlie_Milner: “You call that control, Charlie? Huh? You let her pop you like a damn county fair fireworks display… AND after you had her staggered! You had her!” He jabs a knuckle into my chest—not hard, but sharp enough to sting. "You let her circle. You watched her circle! What, you want to admire her footwork now? This ain’t the ballet, son.” He yanks the mouthpiece halfway out, tilting my head to look me dead in the eye.

Charlie_Milner: “She’s tall, sure. Slick. Got some hands. But she ain’t got your guts. You hear me? She ain’t got your fire. You wanna let her jab your damn face off, or you wanna go make her regret signin’ that contract?” He finally wipes my brow, real rough-like, then crams the mouthpiece back in. “Now get out there in round three and put her back where she belongs—on the ropes, gaspin’ for air. No mercy, Charlie. Not from you. Not tonight.” He slaps the back of my neck and yells for the stool to be yanked. The bell’s coming—and my orders are clear.

Charlie_Milner: The strange mist that surrounded me at the first round break does again as I get scolded by 'dad'... but when that stool is removed, the mist again dissipates and I once again get a clear view of you. What the hell is going on? I shake my head for a moment as my trainer tries to choke me with the mouthpiece being re-inserted. I know what he's doing, he's making sure I get my head in the fight. It is... it never left. But he knows I need to focus and STAY focused. pop--pop... gloves ready... on my toes....

MaggieMae: The faintest hint of my favorite perfume feels the air for a moment as you hold on tight before or separated by the referee. My eyes looking at you before I turn bounce off to my corner. Bye but plopping down on the stool as my trainer immediately takes care of me. That's right kid! That's how you show him who's boss. Cincinnati buzzer hasn't been hurt too often but I swear you hurt him there at the end of that round!

MaggieMae: My eyes are big and like a sponge I'm not understandingly as he talks to me about avoiding your big shots but keeping my offense on track. My confidence growing after a rough first round. And it seems like he can read my mind as he just shakes his head, don't worry about the cards kid, you're going to put him on the canvas before this match is over! Just keep digging and putting him through his paces.

MaggieMae: I look over his shoulder again and this time I see you looking a little less sure of yourself than before. Almost like you're in Lost in thought and it's my trainer sticking my mouth guard back between my lips that snaps me out of the moment as I push back up to my feet and snarl a little bit as I look across at you. Raising my gloves showing the ref that I'm ready

Charlie_Milner: “What a second round, folks! The tide turned like a steamboat on the Ohio—both fighters trading leather, strategy, and plenty of bad intentions! Maggie Mae answered back with sharp jabs and slick footwork, proving she’s not just here to be a footnote. But Charlie ‘The Buzzer’ Milner? He ate those shots, shrugged off the sting, and kept marching forward like a man possessed, looking to turn this match into a war of attrition!” “Now round three is on deck, and the air’s thick with electricity. Will Maggie use her reach to box smart and stay clean, or will Charlie cut the distance again and go digging for ribs and glory? One thing’s for sure—neither fighter is backing down. This bout’s heating up, and it feels like something’s gotta give! Strap in, folks— … and THERE’S THE BELL for round three!”

Charlie_Milner: Stoic, focused, and ready when that beautiful bell rings... When the gruff "...BOX!.." bark exits the ref's lips, my heart again races, the words from my trainer, although also gruff were great. He wouldn't say what he said if he didn't care and want me to bring the best each and every round.... the old coot is a great motivator. On my toes, I skip and step into center ring and circle, again not stationary, and definitely aware of whom you are. I move and weave as I shift head and shoulders side to side. Time to go to work.

MaggieMae: The fog that hovers over the ring lifting as if we are meant to be Toe to Toe with each other even as we are both getting the vibe that there is something different about tonight. But as the ref calls us to box we both know what to do in my gloves come up circling you. Your movement is so smooth for fighters from this era. But I'm starting to get the feel for it even have I move mine a little more fluidly side to side stepping in closing the distance trying to make you take that Miss step as I feign out a quarter Jab trying to see if you'll react

Charlie_Milner: I see the quarter-jab twitch from your glove and I don’t bite—I blink, but I don’t flinch. I keep my guard steady, my footwork light, letting you drift just a bit closer. You’re trying to read me, trying to get me to overcommit—but I’m not rushing. Not this time. I half-circle to my right, stepping outside your lead foot. Just a shift. Just enough to cut the angle, take your feint off center, and find the hole... exposed—just a hair. That’s all I need. I pop a short jab—not hard, just a knuckle kiss at your gloves … or if lucky.. your mouthguard …to remind you I’m here— then shift quick and immediately rip a low right hook coming for your body just under your ribs as I slide in tight. No wasted motion. I’m not falling for the bait—I’m making you regret offering it.

MaggieMae: The fans noticing that you are being a little more cautious after getting rocked in the previous round. The pace slowing a bit for the first time as we are starting to understand the challenge in the other corner. You bring my glove up with that quick job and then go to my body making me grunt biting down on my mouth guard as I feel your breath whoosh past your mouth guard as you grunt trying to crack a rib with that shot. I bear down and twist my hips trying to answer in kind showing you that I'm not going to back down with a right hook of my own aim for yours but I also try to shovel a left right between your elbows into your upper tummy!

Charlie_Milner: In every fight, there's that moment, That moment you realize (after the fight is over and you're reviewing what happened) that had you done or NOT done something would have changed the fight. I've had moments like that. Ones that ended up being the right ones and sometimes the wrong ones. I feel this is that moment because when you ate that opening body shot, your grunt, the visible biting down on that mouth guard of yours, and the feeling my glove seemed to make 'inside' your core. Definitely felt 'softer'. Definitely seemed like you gave a bit.

Charlie_Milner: Your counter as you move your hips seems all too obvious you want to give me a taste of my own medicine. Your right comes. My left already back in place from the cursory jab I popped. When you swing it, I drop my shoulder slightly, twist my torso and step INTO the hot, cutting it off before you extend. It pops my elbow and forearm and the THWACK sound is more theater than reality. It had a sting effect on my arm.

Charlie_Milner: But that left coming is a gift. In tight, I sweep and chop at it looking to parry it down with the left that was already in motion and blocked the left hook. I just continue the follow through and swat at it looking to chop it down. And there's the gift... your whole left side there for the pickings....

Charlie_Milner: the right loaded and already coming, I pivot my body left and bring a power right hook looking to crash it into your left obliques... "uuuush".. and and immediately and swiftly reload it to quickly bring it upstairs to crash it into your left jawline and cheek.... "psssh".. driving with my legs and powered by my torso.

MaggieMae: You open the third round with a bang hammering me once and then stopping my attempts to counter. Knocking my gloves out of the way and then drilling me with a shot to the body that brings a grunt from my lips and then before I can react your left catches me on the jaw and the combination of the impacts send me crashing to my butt for the first time in a while! The Cincinnati crowd jumps to their feet as the hometown boy lands a lightning combination that has brought a new energy to the crowd

Charlie_Milner: The roar of the crowd is quite deafening. “Oh my stars—DOWN GOES MAGGIE MAE!!” “Charlie Milner just lit the fuse and exploded out of the corner here in round three! He feints cool as ice, then BOOM—a stiff jab to the mouthguard, just enough to crack the door, and then he slams it open with a thunderous hook to the body that folds Maggie at the waist like a telegram!”

Charlie_Milner: “You could hear that grunt ringside, folks—and before she could even blink, Milner’s left hand snaps across her jawline, a crisp counter hook that sends her sprawling backward, crashing to the canvas in a heap!” “This Cincinnati crowd has erupted! Hats are flying, folks are stomping, and the Buzzer has brought them to their feet with a lightning-fast combo that looked like it came straight outta Jack Dempsey’s playbook!”

Charlie_Milner: “Maggie’s blinking, shaking her head on the mat—she’s tough, but that one was clean, and Charlie Milner just reminded everyone why you never let him inside!” “The ref’s count is on—let’s see if the lady from Missouri can beat the clock!”

Charlie_Milner: You drop as each impact connects and I don't even blink. I stand over you for a moment before the ref shoves and points. I calmly to the neutral corner as I hear the ref pick up the count... "...3.........4........5......." .... smiling through my mouthpiece.

MaggieMae: I have been fighting boys since my career began so this is not the first time that I've been put on my ass by a clean power shot. But I'd be lying if I said it didn't have me blushing deep down since I'm in the heart of enemy territory tonight. Your punch was clean and it caused a bright flash and I didn't even feel the fall just the jolt of my butt on that rough canvas. My gloves going back to stop me from falling all the way to my back. But that Roar was deafening!

MaggieMae: Hi take a few minutes to calmly try to clear the cobwebs from that clean shot. Rolling over onto my hands and knees as the ref bellows the count above the din of the crowd! There are a few wolf whistles behind me as I give the fans at ringside a view of my butt as I push to my knees the ref getting to six as I take a deep breath and my corner Shout encouragement, but I can't deny he looks relieved that I'm still looking ready to fight after that good clean knock down. I look up at the ref at 7 letting him see that I still have my wits about me. And then when he gets to 8:00 I push back up to my feet and raise my gloves showing him that I'm ready to keep fighting

Charlie_Milner: "Mae's shifting on the canvas as she looks to get her wits about her. The ref's count reaches "...SIX..." as Mae looks to steady herself. Oh that look at the ref, I can't tell from my view if she's glassy or just .... She's on her knees and looking at the ref... She's UP!.... She's UP at 8.... The ref looks her over and Maggie says she can continue..."

Charlie_Milner: I watch the drama unfold as you are up at 8, and my gloves are up. My corner barks, "Don't waste time! Don't Screw this up!" Such encouragement from the old codger. When the ref drops his hand and gruffly notes... "BOX!"... I DON'T waste time. Skipstepping, moving, shifting, weaving, see how you follow me... eyes or head movement...adrenaline racing... the crowd again fading out as I focus on you. I slip left then right and step at you as I pop "psssh psssh" a double left jab looking to test your guard... then shift right and feign the jab before a quick drop of the right shoulder and sweep a right hook "uussh!" looking to pound your body again. Pressure pressure pressure.... attempting to make you think quick just after the canvas visit.

MaggieMae: The crowd is at a fever pitch as the buzzer comes buzzing right across the ring cutting the distance between us. My eyes wide a little bit as I snap my left jab out at your bobbing head. Pivening shifting trying to stay out of range of your punches as you try to land the critical blow in this fight before my legs can steady.

MaggieMae: That look on your face is so intense, and my brain flashes back to the bed and the pictures that I saw. My brain sending a faint message that wait this isn't real! But then your job snaps out and bumps into my forehead pushing me back a little bit more and the thought escapes as quickly as it arrived and I growl to myself biting down on my mouth guard and trying to spring back to life with a quick shoveling right hook between your elbows to that body of yours again as I try to slow down your attack

Charlie_Milner: FWAP! that jab popped your head and I move as I feign.. I hear that low toned growl from you... as I unload that right body shot.... It never makes it... before I can extend... "nnnmff!" YOUR right (damn reach advantage) smacks my core as we are now in close quarters in the pocket. I fold slightly as I didn't see it, my taut midsection suddenly sporting some red from the gloved smack. My reaction is one of intensity as on instinct, I stay muscled inside trying to shove you back a bit... "nnnyuh"... with both gloves before steeping low and look to flurry a quick.... left right left... hook flurry coming for your body hard.... that navel, the target, that body, to take your breath from you and press you back... "psssh psssh pshhh"

MaggieMae: Now it's my turn to feel your breath on my body as my shot Finds Its mark. But before I can follow up you bully me back virtually shoving me the rest of the way back to the ropes and then going to my body again. The ref shouting out at you too box clean. But your face is already virtually staring at my tits as you thump your punches against my side. My and tight trying to deflect your barrage. My butt pressing between the two middle ropes as I see your head be a little bit stationary for a moment and I wait for a brief pause before I swing a quick left of my own to your right bicep as more of a distraction than anything before trying to pop a quick short uppercut with my right glove to your chin

Charlie_Milner: Intense and fast-paced, the action almost instant, the impact as my gloves catch your sides, you pitching slightly from each while you use the ropes as your 'stool', pressed in tight, little movement, the crowd noise suddenly loud and the ref suddenly barking as if I did something wrong (it was a damn shove), then... "" "Mmnfph!" You pop my chin up with an inside uppercut, the sweat rainbow flies.... I immediately drive my chin into your chest and try to clinch and wrap you up to keep you on the ropes and not let you pop anymore of those....

Charlie_Milner: “This is cold, desperate, glorious infighting, folks—exactly the kind of close-quarters war they warned these two about, and neither’s backing off!” “Milner’s in tight now—firing left and right into Mae’s ribs with vicious little hooks, digging in like he’s mining for gold under that guard! Mae’s back’s up against the ropes—using them like a barstool, riding the sway—but not giving ground! You can see the strain in her torso, pitchin’ from each hit, absorbing the body work but refusing to bend!”

Charlie_Milner: “The ref’s barking now—thinks there was some illegal shove, but the crowd doesn’t care. They’re on their feet again, roaring at the violence unfolding a foot from their popcorn!” “Oh! Mae explodes out of the lean, rips a short, nasty inside uppercut straight to Milner’s chin! Sweat sprays like a summer rain under the lights and Milner grunts hard, rocked upright from the impact!”

Charlie_Milner: “But he’s still got the presence—grits his teeth and drives forward, clinching hard, burying his chin in Maggie’s chest like he’s crawling into a storm cellar, refusing to take another one of those!” “What a full-on slugfest, raw and relentless, and the third round might just be the wildest thing we’ve seen here at Stanton Pavilion in a decade! They’re in deep, folks—real deep. And who’s gonna break first.”

MaggieMae: As you clench with me your sweaty body pressing mine against the ropes. Both of us taking advantage of the moment to reset our bearings. My legs coming back to me after you nearly ended the fight in stunning fashion. Has the referee steps in and tries to pry us apart, I can't help but shoot a little whisper into your here, what's the matter honey having problems finishing against a beautiful woman?" My right gloves trying to Pepper against your side as the ref gets more irritated with the tightness of our clench

Charlie_Milner: I resist the break from the ref as he forces/wedges inside. You swatting at my elbows and forearms trying to smack me inside. The ref gets a little leather action and is NOT happy about it. "Break.. BREAK...Dammit!" while you whisper sweet nothings in my ear as if flirting. But I know your hurting.... but when we break, I want to get right back in there as the successful arm crowbar exposition is complete. Comin in low, gloves tucked almost philly style, shifting my weight.... no more retreats.... unconventionally flat-footed, I inch forward looking to keep you under constant pressure. I look to sweep a left and right hard hook at your ribs, fast and nasty "psssh psssh"... if you stuff 'em, no worries, just trying to get you to commit to the body defense... because I then step right at you an close the pocket up more snapping a fast left hook at your jawline and it's partner, a right hook wanting to whack your head back and forth. "psssh pffft"

MaggieMae: The referee scolding both of us for not breaking clean but I'm already focused on that intense look on your face. Your non-response to my little taunt was more than enough validation that you heard me as I keep trying to get inside your head why you try to break my ribs! ;-)

MaggieMae: Starting to feel back to myself after that short detour to the canvas I start to move as you come at me looking a little more flat-footed and as soon as you are gloves start to look like you're going for my body I snap out a quick left jab trying to flatten your nose as I go to beat you to the punch literally this time. And then swinging a right hook of my own trying to find that floating rib as the round once again starts to get late

Charlie_Milner: I focus as you walk right into the pocket with me. I sweep that left and right at your body and you snap the jab. I move my head slightly right outside the blow and the jab slips by my ear, the ever familiar 'whoosh' sound reverberates as it passes. You again go downstairs looking for that left side with another right hook as if a 78 rpm record is skipping... with me low, you simply pop my right glove and slide over my right forearm. I shift my head back left with your right side now open, I go upstairs right over it and look to crash a left hook "uuuush" into your right cheek and eye and follow with a straight right coming dead center for your chin and face "iiiish", driven by a torso twist and shoulder pop, bringing the power straight in. We'll see how 'back to yourself' you feel.

MaggieMae: You stuff my advances again and use that stocky body to bully in my right glove getting up just in time to stop you from smashing into my jaw but then you're straight right thumbs against my cheek sending a shower of sweat and to press row.. looking for a moment like I might take a second trip to the canvas but somehow my legs hold and I return fire aiming a quick left right left straight to your face as I work to keep my back off the ropes and get you back at arm's length

Charlie_Milner: I feel the glove impact all the way up my arm as the right crashes home. You look stunned and I come right in like a bull ( ok at 135, maybe not a bull, maybe a bronco.... ) sloppy and anxious to drop you again ....

MaggieMae: With your head looking stun for a moment I decide to take a chance and keep the pressure up stopping slightly to the left as I move in trying to cut you off and snapping a right straight out into your nose and then looking for that liver area with a digging left hook just before the Bell

Charlie_Milner: Oh he cracked her with that right! Charlie Milner lands another bomb, and Maggie Mae looks stunned—eyes wide, footing shaky—and here comes the Buzzer storming in like a wild bronco let loose in the ring! He’s throwing leather like he’s got a train to catch swinging with everything he’s got, lookin’ for the finish! But hold the phone—Maggie digs deep, plants her heels, and fires back with a blinding flurry to the face! Pop-pop-pop! Fists flash like camera bulbs—Milner eats every shot, sweat flying in every direction like a busted hydrant!”

Charlie_Milner: “He stops—dead in his tracks! The crowd gasps as the hometown boy suddenly looks rattled, maybe even stunned himself by that counterattack! And just then—there it is!—that familiar slap of the ten-second clapper! Charlie doesn’t rush this time. He steps back, gloves up high, blinking through the sweat, circling right—and right again—daring Maggie to give chase, but not making the same mistake twice.”

Charlie_Milner: “And just when you thought Maggie might ease off the gas—she turns it up! Seeing that brief hesitation from Milner, she pounces! Slides left, smart footwork, trying to cut off his retreat and steps right into a textbook straight right! She fires!—but Milner shifts just enough and the punch glances off his cheek instead of square on the nose! Not clean, but enough to snap his head and draw a gasp from the crowd!”

Charlie_Milner: “She dips low, twisting in, digging for that tender liver shot with a mean left hook—but Charlie’s no rookie. Anticipating it, drops the elbow, and stuffs it cold! Beautiful defensive instinct there! These two are trading not just punches—but read and response, instinct and grit. And there’s the bell! Another white-knuckle finish to a brutal round, and these fighters are heading to their corners having given and taken in equal measure. What a contest we’re witnessing tonight at Stanton Pavilion!”

Charlie_Milner: The sudden late round ending swing just pisses me off... oh and I know my cornerman trainer is gonna have some fine "encouragement" for me. As I plop into the stool, my cornerman grabs the cold enswell and props it on my left cheek. Is there even even swelling there? "SSSsssss" is all that comes out of my mouth as my mouthguard is spit into the bucket. He's saying nothing..... interesting.... the mist overwhelms me again, can't see you now in your corner.... then....

Charlie_Milner: "You lookin' to get your ass handed to you... You had her and you got cute.. WHAT DID I SAY?" and the one-sided conversation peeks with the strategy for round 4. Focused and apparently truly in need of that enswell, my washed mouthguard is shoved into my mouth. "Now dammit, stop fucking around!" as I hear the "Seconds OUT!" clammer from the ref.

MaggieMae: I hurt you at the end of that round but with these Hometown judges there is no way I made up for you depositing me on my ass with that crisp clean punch. My corner again both building me up but also speaking the truth that you nailed me with that shot and I need to be less predictable. Again the faint sent of my bedroom filling my nose and I look across catching your eye for just a moment as the Mist dances in the ring keeping us both centered but also conveniently just out of focus. My corner telling me that I started something at the end of that round and I need to keep going., "you're gonna make this guy respect you! Keep pushing and run the gas right out of him! He can't keep this pace up forever! I'm not as he pushes the mouth guard back into my mouth and I pull myself up off the stool looking down and noticing just how glistening my body is as the referee moves back to the middle of the Ring to call us to box when the bell sounds

Charlie_Milner: And that 'mist' clears a path, again as if a weather front is dissipating suddenly. And there you are, sweaty, clearly marked up a bit, as am I, but an amazing site to see across from me. The first three rounds have been as exciting as anyone could ask. You've dropped once, and had me on the cusp. The adrenaline rush kicks right back in as I hear .... ... that round 4 bell ring. I bite down hard on my mouthguard, take that routine-like deep breath and get focused. When the ref again drops his hand.... "BOX"... That rush is now what I will ride into the fight. I get on my toes, back to the quick movement and shifting I do as to not be that open stationary target. I immediately look to take center and circle. "Hey... Beanpole... havin fun yet? How're those ribs?" and I wink at you, smiling through my mouthguard-laden lips, remembering how much I love the trading, the strategy, all of it.... I love hearing those leather-to-flesh moments and that guttural symphony of sound exiting the lips of the one popped. Nothing more enticing and exciting. I keep circling looking, seeking, studying, flashing a cursory left jab just to see where your focus is....ready for you.

MaggieMae: We come out at the start of the 4th and look like we've both learned a lesson in that third round. You take the center of the Ring and I smirk back at you as you talk shit. The truth is you have got to my body but I have wobbled your legs, so as tough as you talk and as cute as you look trying to intimidate me, I know that we both know that this match is wide open and you desperately want to send the hometown fans home happy.

MaggieMae: The announcer going on about how it's only been three rounds but this has had more action than the 15 round title fight featuring Dempsey and Gibbons! I bounce on my toes a little bit. Your fans cheering at you to come and get me. And I probe my left Jab out measuring you and giving you something to think about as my athletic body dances in front of yours calling to you like a Siren

Charlie_Milner: The focus is at center ring, we both exchange 'jab-probes'. But, when you launch yours, I slip inside and right, swiftly stepping in the pocket and this time with authority look to take advantage and snap a nasty left jab-straight right up and inside, nose-face destination "Pshhh pshhh" immediately wanting to take your reach advantage away. Pressure coming .... again and with purpose.

MaggieMae: You suddenly spring into action and I bring my gloves up taking your big combination against my leather mitts. Your body pushing in close and I decide this is my time to take a stand. Twisting my shoulders and whether intentionally or intimately my left shoulder hits against your jaw as we get body to body but in the chaos I try to step back and unleash a quick left uppercut to your solar plexus and then a right hook of my own toward your jaw

Charlie_Milner: Oh it's on as the flame from the fireplace just had lantern oil thrown on it. You and I get close fast as you stuff my combo, but you’re backing up now —I feel it in the contact and see it right in front of me. When your shoulder brushes my jaw, I roll with it, let the movement slide off me as I stay anchored and press in tighter. There’s no space to throw clean now—not with you stepping back.

Charlie_Milner: I see your left drop and try to sneak under for a solar plexus uppercut—but I smother it. My right elbow dips down sharply, jamming your wrist before the punch ever finds air. You’ve got no leverage, no room to follow through. The moment you twist for that right hook—I’m already inside your turn.

Charlie_Milner: I duck under the wide arc of it, stepping left and sliding along your body like I’m tracing your silhouette, and then I rip a left hook low and deep at your ribs..... “uuuush!”... followed instantly by a short, compact inside right uppercut up the middle popping up looking for your chin trying to snap your head back "isssh"... “Too close, beanpole” I mutter, teeth clenched. “Keep swinging wide—I’ll keep making you pay.”

MaggieMae: You stuff my attack and the crowd sees your opening. My arms getting in the way slightly and deflecting that upper cut but it still Clips my chin and pushes my head back bringing the crowd to its feet again as the woman takes a step back against the slugger. But I don't back down this time. Throwing a quick left right out toward each of your cheeks but then doubling up with my right and trying to Loop it around above your ear

Charlie_Milner: How you were able to defend that counter is beyond me, your arms, one that was fully extending from the wide arc hook, suddenly entangled in mine in the blink of an eye, Only clipping your chin with the uppercut. Not what I expected when…. Gnnn Hynff! You pop a straight left and right in close, not able to fully extend them as you chose to not back down. My head snaps back, sweat and spittle fly, my body solid but head shudders from the twin gloved smacks. I stay in the pocket and your right reloads….. As you release, I step into you and start my counter with a driving left hook. Your looped, reloaded right comes upstairs looking for my temple area above the ear....

Charlie_Milner: Your reach and height, 5’10” outside and over the top vs my 5’5” inside and underneath…. now a problem… for YOU…. Your arms in too close to extend... except when you loop the hook as it gives me the time and space INSIDE to counter. I bring that left hook of mine and twist my torso pivoting with my foot looking to drive it into your liver “pssssh” instantly then shifting my weight for the inside right uppercut looking to cave in your solar plexus. “iiissh”. I told you to keep swinging wide and I’d make you pay.

MaggieMae: (have had a crazy week. should be on more the next few days)

MaggieMae: The Cincinnati Slugger goes to my body again that uppercut pushing my butt back through the ropes again. The crowd going wild as you are wearing out your opponent with your slick defense and precision counter punching. Once again forcing me to clinch with your sweaty body holding you tight as the ref grumbles as we just can't seem to keep apart

Charlie_Milner: "What's the matter beanpole? Can't *grunt* handle the inside game?" as my gummed lips smile wide. "Break....." *grunt* we keep clinched tight. "I said..... BREAK!".. The ref brings the crowbar-like arms...."Break it up, you too..... this ain't no dance." and he shoves us a part. "Anymore of that crap, and we're done here, understood? When I say Break, I mean, NOW" giving us both the look. I smile and wink at you. "Cmon sweetie, or are you giving up?" as I smack my gloves together and get on my toes.

MaggieMae: My mouth hanging open a bit as I suck in the air. Still feeling that shot to my body. But I snap out a quick left Jab trying to shut you up, finding it incredible that guys back in this time we're just as much dicks as they are in my local Club back home.;-) I Circle off the ropes trying to keep the distance between us and get you back at arm's length looking to snipe you and turn the momentum around

Charlie_Milner: The smile cannot be wiped from my face as I see and hear your mouth sweeping in air as if you'd been holding your breath for 5 minutes. When you swat that jab, I do the same to it as I swat it away with my left glove palm. "Oh c'mon, girlie. Bring more than that, or are you that hurt?" and I actually snicker like a kid. You swing out and get off those ropes. I quickly shift left right slidestep right and feign the right as if coming for your ribs since your body seems to still 'Ache', hoping you bite. Then I redirect the right half reloaded and shift my torso left as I bring the right upstairs looking for your left cheek and eye... "Psssh"... then a step at you and quick 1-2... (left jab, straight right)... coming for your face dead center... "psssh Pshhh"

MaggieMae: You are gaining confidence and maybe even showing a little too much cockiness as you have the advantage but I'm getting my breath back. And when you try to snap that quick one two to my face I Bob under and shovel a right uppercut and aimed for your solar plexus and return and then follow up with a left hook aiming for that liver area before finishing the combination with another quick right uppercut trying to catch the Cincinnati Slugger right on the chin

Charlie_Milner: You continue to soak and slip shots like a pro, a better fighter than I've seen in awhile. And this time I pay for it. "Uhhhhh!" your right uppercut hammers my exposed middle when you slip underneath. It catches be dead center in my upper core in my solar plexus, shutting me down, before "nnnff!" the liver shot crashes into me and my body freezes. The finisher.... "GNNNN!" caves in my chin and I go straight up stiff.... then knees.... then face plant to the canvas.... the sudden combination a complete surprise. I don't even feel myself hitting the canvas. I am out cold.

MaggieMae: Your corner shouting at you as you suddenly step into the Trap and everyone can see your body jolt when my right bumps your core and then go a bit rigid when my left hammers into your liver. They can't see the slight hint of excitement protruding your tight trunks. But I do just before I bite down hard on my mouth guard and Hammer that uppercut to your chin. Not knowing if it would end the fight but definitely throwing it with bad intentions. I hear the sound come from your body on impact and then I see your knees give way in my eyes light up as you head to the canvas hitting with a heavy thump at my feet. The crowd gasping as I raise my gloves High and Jog away to the corner letting the referee do his job

Charlie_Milner: The referee walks over and looks.... "It's OVER" he doesn't count, he sees no movement. "Winner by Knockout!" is barked and my corner comes for my lifeless form. They turn me over and give me a smelling salt cap to wake me up... I shake then move...and then get me to my stool. The world is still spinning and I have a horrible splitting headache and struggling to take deep breaths.

MaggieMae: The girl from Missouri has shocked the World by knocking out the Cincinnati buzzer in his hometown. If you're legs still gone as they pull you up to the stool and I lift my gloves High in the middle of the Ring smiling and even flexing for the bright flash bulbs as the fog begins to descend over the ring again and the smell of my familiar bedroom starts to fill the air

MaggieMae: Waking up in my bedroom a hot sweaty mess. My ribs aching and the picture of the Cincinnati buzzer changed now to have a big black eye looking defeated. I can't help but Wonder was that all in my head or did I really just have the match of my life?