You’ve never seen a man more focused for a match where his opponent’s just going to lie down than what’s right in front of us now.
Abe Lipschitz: …twenty-five!
Lowering back to the ground after his final reverse lunge knee-up, Abe places his fists on his hips, breathing hard. Sweat is glistening down his neck thanks to the plyometrics session. Nearby, the Black Metal Friends sit on a nearby storage box. SELMA is snacking on what appears to be a large bag of beef jerky while Miserée broods over her cell phone. Probably looking at photos of abandoned houses in the woods or something.
Abe Lipschitz: And now, let’s get some burpees in! Readyyyyyyy-BREAK!
With a clap of his hands, Abe crouches down, kicks back, pushes up, crouches in, and leaps as high as he can. One down, as he without any hesitation continues the routine. Meanwhile, SELMA’s eye catches something off-camera. Mouth still holding the strip of dried meat, she nudges Miserée and points. The Torture Baroness’ facial expression lightens, calling out to Abe who is now about three reps in.
Miserée: Uh, Abe…you might want to take a break for a second. We’ve got a visitor.
Lipschitz, who is facing the wall and completely unaware of who that visitor might be, kicks back to the pushup position and pauses.
Abe Lipschitz: Can’t you see I’m busy? Tell them to get lost!
Miserée: I don’t think that’s a very good idea.
Abe Lipschitz: You say that about everything. Hey, whoever you are, take a hike! I’ve got a maaaa…
A pair of black boots step into his view with a dangerously high heel holding them up. Abe stops himself short and uncomfortably cranes his neck to stare up the legs of their special guest. Surprisingly, she isn’t even looking down at him, but it only takes a simple one-word command to get him scrambling to his feet in about 0.3030307737737 milliseconds.
Lindsay Troy: Abraham.
I mean, technically it wasn’t a command. But yes it was. Lipschitz, now looking up slightly into the eyes of his boss and eternal unrequited crush, struggles to say something really suave that will surely impress her.
Abe Lipschitz: …hi…
The greeting was about an octave above Mickey Mouse’s voice, barely dripping out of his larynx. LT, obviously not impressed, holds up her hand that clutches a familiar object to all of the parties present.
Lindsay Troy: Look familiar?
While his first instinct was to completely deny ever seeing the Elon Musk mask that she dangles from her fingers, there was still the matter that he had the shyness of a boy at a middle school dance when in her presence. He mumbles out something completely unintelligible as a response. Thankfully, this was a rhetorical question.
Lindsay Troy: Nice shirt, by the way.
The Queen notices tonight’s #whatsabewearing #abelovesshirts, which is just a plain white T with the words “PICK ME CHRIS AMERICA” in black. Immediately, he regrets his choice in attire for the evening.
Lindsay Troy: I’m going to tell you this once and once only. Show up uninvited to a DEFIANCE show again, and you can consider yourself needing to apply there, because you’ll be looking for a new job. Got it?
Abe continues to stammer over his speech, FINALLY able to come up with something.
Abe Lipschitz: …hi…
Miserée: What he means to say is ‘yes ma’am.’ I’ll make sure that it doesn’t happen again.
Lindsay glances over to the Black Metal Friends and gives a knowing smile.
Lindsay Troy: I’m sure of it. Ladies…
LT gives a nod to Miserée and SELMA as she walks by. Not sure of what to do, SELMA holds up her bag of jerky to the boss, offering her a piece. Lindsay politely waves it off, which makes the Sea Monstress shrug her shoulders and continue to chow down. Meanwhile, Miserée stands and walks over to Lipschitz, punching him hard in the arm.
Miserée: Take that STUPID shirt off NOW. I swear to Lucifer, if you get us fired, I’m pulling all your fingers off with pliers that same day.
Abe completely ignores everything Mis has to say. His heart beat like a bass drum, and his irises slowly began to change from brown to pink, forming heart shapes from the ovals. He was once again smitten beyond belief, craning his neck to watch her walk to the end of the hall and disappear behind the corner. Once he’s sure that she’s out of earshot, he cups his hand around his mouth and calls out to her.
Abe Lipschitz: GOD DAMN, BABY! WHERE CAN I GET ME SOME KOSHER FRIES TO GO WITH THAT SHAKE?
He grins, proud of the fact that he finally had something smooth to say well after she’d left.
Lindsay Troy: WHAT WAS THAT?
To his horror, the Renaissance Woman stepped back into view in the distance. While she was too far away to tell, the look she gave him was not one that you’d particularly want from the person who just threatened to can your stupid ass. However, there was a similar look on the face of his manager, as if they were both linked telepathically. Always the quick-thinker, Abe gathered together a response to make sure his tracks were covered.
Abe Lipschitz: …bye…
Floating about six inches from the ground, the lovestruck Abe began to move toward the ring entrance area in preparation for his upcoming easy victory. He turns to Miserée and clutches his heart, swooning.
Abe Lipschitz: I’m gonna ask her to marry me someday.
Miserée: You live on another planet. She hates you.
Abe raises an eyebrow and shakes his head.
Abe Lipschitz: Oh, my young, naive friend. She doesn’t hate me. She’s just mad at me. There’s a big difference between the two when you’re both in love with one another.
Miserée: No, I’m pretty sure it’s hate.
Abe Lipschitz: Did you just say something? Sorry, I was too busy thinking about my lover.
We cut back to the ring.