Sheri couldn’t help but laugh sharply at Deadblood’s recommendation.

“True. I suppose that would be almost as effective as trying to drop a dumpster on someone. Somehow I liked the sentiment behind that one a little more, but I’ll keep your tip in mind, though.” She teased, before resuming an air of seriousness. “I likely wouldn’t try something that overt during your upcoming match, though. I have a few ideas, some that might prove useful, but we’ll see. I always think better on my feet, anyway.”

“I’ll take your word for it. And gee, thanks. I thought trying to crush me under my own bike was one of your finer moments that night, but whatever.” He rolled his eyes in response to her jab, and after taking another glance around the room, he tucked the Desert Eagle away out of sight, and rose to his feet. Sheri quirked an eyebrow.

“Oh come on, it was just a joke, Deadblood. Besides, who threatened to throw who’s severed head across a street, hmmm? I think that and waking up to a very sharp blade pressed against my neck was the highlight of our evening together. I have to hand it to you, you know how to show a girl a good time.” Sheri cracked as the bartender announced last call. Deadblood tossed a few bills on the table, and turned back to her.

“All the more reason to believe it will be a tall order for the company to try come up with something more ruthless than the two of us working together.” He said, glancing over to the door. “You want me to see you to your car or anything?”


“Oh, and he has manners, too. Nah, I’m fine, go on. I’ll be in contact.” She answered, not moving from her seat and looking as though she might be contemplating putting one last order in.

“All right. Keep in touch, and I’ll fill you in on more of the details regarding the match as soon as I know anything.” Sheri watched as he walked away, and exited the bar. Waiting a few minutes more, she tossed a few dollars down as well and made her way out of the bar, making a point to keep an eye out for anyone who might be tailing her.