Collar and elbow tie up?
Okay, Red. Let's try that out--
NOT.
I gimp across the ring, barely able to put any weight at all on my ankle without sending pain signals all up and down my right side. With your arms up--yeah, I don't believe that for a second. Not a second. You're going to kick at my ankle or throw an elbow or grab my hair. Heel Red. Rowan's Red. And if Bruce Lee taught me anything, it's beat the other gal--or guy, in this case--to the punch. You're gonna try something dirty, so I may as well make sure that doesn't happen.
What did she do, Red? What did she do to you to make you go bad? She's got all kinds of promises. And she can do things I can't. She's got so much more to offer. I understand why. And when I came back, I knew you'd be under her raven's wing. I didn't expect you to be waiting for me. Nobody should have to wait for anyone. Especially someone who vanishes for more than a year. But I had some growing up to do. Had to learn a few things. Figure some stuff out. And I hoped you would be here. And I hoped we could be friends again. But you are hers. And whoever tastes that shadowy wine of hers--there's no coming back.
I put my left ankle behind me, out of your reach and put my weight on the right, leaning in for the clutch. But I don't fully get into the clutch. Rather, as soon as your arms start to move, I pivot on my right foot, twisting my hips, jumping up with that foot to go for a flying armbar!
And I look like a flying rhino. I'm not subtle or graceful. Not usually. And not on one leg, to be sure. But maybe, just maybe, it will catch you off guard enough to put you down and give me your arm.
And not the armbar where you land on your back. The one where you land on your chest.
And you know which arm I'm going for, don't you Red?