Illustrated and written by Soxs.

Tales of the Great Depression Harvey Pringle had lost it all during the great stock market crash of 1929. Undaunted by his sudden penniless state, he set out to find a money making idea in the midst of financial disaster. Having no wife or children to take care of, Harvey began to explore the ideas that he'd enjoy doing as well as sure fire money makers. Once, while a young lad visiting relatives in the mid-west, Harvey had been witness to a carnival wrestling act between two rather buxom farm girls who battled to the cheers and cash of the rowdy carnival goers. He remembered the large amount of dollars that the ticket man was taking in as he sold tickets to this most exciting bout. The young Harvey Pringle followed his father into an enclosed area off the mid-way and joined the few dozen spectators who were sitting on hard, long, wooden benches that lined one side of a three walled make-shift room. The fourth wall space contained the benches, which were located back from where the missing wall would be, and a large curtain masked any outside viewing behind the spectators. Five rows with standing room only was the case as the announcer stepped out onto the heavy canvas padded floor and introduced the two contenders for the bout. Harvey's father had made sure they got a front row seat to the match by slipping the ticket taker an extra dollar on the way in. Now Harvey hadn't been paying much attention to the goings on when his dad ushered him into this attraction. So when he heard the announcer bellow that this was going to be the wrestling match of the century, he assumed that two burly men would come out from beyond the curtain and step into the crude appearing ring, which was no more than a padded floor surrounded by three wooden walls and five rows of cheering men and boys. His eyes nearly fell out when he saw the first sight of who was about to tangle in front of this rowdy audience. Two buxom women entered the enclosure and stepped into the padded floored room, going to opposite corners and smiling nervously at the crowd of wildly whistling males. A blonde versus a brown haired woman, in their early thirties and they were dressed in provocative attire for the times. Skin tight one piece suits, one light grey, the other a darker shade of grey, that were sleeveless and stopped at mid thigh on both women. They wore white tights that were textured like heavy socks, and white laced boots that appeared to be supple and very soft. As the women were introduced, Harvey focused in on the waiting blonde who fidgeted in her corner as the crowd called out her opponent's name and her's. Brigitte the blonde and Bernice, her brown haired opponent. Bernice fidgeted in her corner as she looked out at the noisy audience. Brigitte"s eyes met the young Harvey's and they stared for a moment with Harvey's heart fluttering and Brigitte smiling back at him sweetly. The young lad's magic moment was cut short by the sound of a cow bell. Brigitte turned her eyes back to the task at hand and looked across the room at her opponent as the announcer moved out of the way, leaving the two women alone in the padded cubicle. Harvey held his breath as the subject of his first boyhood first crush on an older woman recipient and her opponent moved out of their corners and began to circle around on the heavily padded floor. They locked up into a wrestler's grasp and began to struggle mildly around the room. After two full turns around the room they pushed off from each other and walked the perimeter of their ring. As Brigitte passed the young Harvey, he held out his hand without thinking and she gently grasped it in a warm gentle squeeze, smiling broadly at the adoring young lad. Her perfume wafted through the air as she passed him, followed by her enemy. Harvey's dad nudged him and winked at the love struck lad, grinning broadly as he murmured, "Atta boy." Harvey blushed and returned his attention to the room that held his heart throb and her opponent. They continued walking the edge of the room and then Brigitte circled to the center of the padded floor and turned to face her foe. Bernice stepped into her and they locked onto each other in crushing embraces between them. The two women swayed from side to side as they struggled to get the advantage on each other. Their legs slid between each other's in attempts to trip up their opponent but the women stumbled out of them and continued to struggle in a standing conflict. Harvey cheered on his goddess as she grimaced and strained against her antagonist. The women staggered into the corner and hit the wall fairly hard. They shook when their struggling bodies made contact but held. Neither woman broke off the hold and continued to struggle tightly embraced across the floor into the center of the room. Bernice shifted her grasp and locked Brigitte into a grueling side head lock. She ground her arm tightly around Brigitte's head and worked the hold for all it was worth. Brigitte gasped out to Harvey's horror and he yelled for her opponent to let her go. His dad laughed out loud and patted his son's back. Bernice held Brigitte tightly as she worked the side head lock, causing Brigitte's face to blossom into a crimson pink. The two women struggled to ear shot of Harvey and his dad. They could hear Brigitte gasping and grunting as she tried to break the hold. Bernice was grunting as well as she fought to keep Brigitte trapped while trying to avoid her opponent's searching legs as Brigitte tried to trip her way out. The sounds of their tights rubbing against each other's was clearly heard by the front row as the two women battled to best the other. As they rounded the corner of the room, Brigitte's right leg found it's mark and she wrapped it around Bernice's. A sudden lurch sent them sprawling down to the padded floor. They rolled away and regained their standing positions. As they moved to lock up again, Brigitte snapped on a front to front bear hug around Bernice's upper shoulder area, at the base of her neck. She pressed herself tightly against her opponent and squeezed her with great effort. Bernice gasped and at first tried to push herself free using her hands but to no avail. Brigitte held her in the center of the room as Bernice tried to wedge her hands between them and push off from the attacking blonde. Unable to break the hold by this means, Bernice readied her two free arms and balled her two hands into fists. The crowd saw this and called out the move to Brigitte who braced herself for the expected attack but maintained her hold. Bernice erupted into a two fisted attack on Brigitte's upper body and shoulder areas as the crowd went wild. The loud thwacks and thuds could be heard all over the enclosure as the two women struggled in front of the roaring crowd. The sounds of soft wrestling boots sliding along canvas filled the air as the women struggled about the room. Bernice shifted her fists to Brigitte's face and head and pummeled her as the blonde cried out, to Harvey's disgust. "Shame on that brown haired cheater!". he said. His father informed him that in these types of matches, everything was allowed, including punching. Brigitte began to grow light headed and loosened her grasp around Bernice's neck and head. The blonde reared back her right fist and slammed it hard into Bernice's face. The brown haired woman was on her way to a complete spin when Brigitte's left fist met her face head on and slammed hard into her other cheek. Her head spun one way as her body went the other direction. Brigitte stepped back a few steps and watched as her foe twisted into a grotesque momentary collapse and floundered on the canvas floor. The blonde stood, fists up and ready, as Bernice layed sprawled on the canvas. After a minute or so, Bernice got to her feet and the two women squared off like two boxers. This was now a bare knuckle brawl as the two women strode into each other and threw caution to the wind. They exchanged punches in furious flurries, moving around the room in heated combat. Lefts and rights kept coming and going as the women fought punch for punch with damaging results. Both of their pretty faces were becoming bloodied and bruised as their bodies and exposed skin showed the redness of blows taken in harsh force. They would break off the engagement for a quick breather of five seconds and then plow back into each other as before. Both women cried out as they took the full brunt of their opponent's fists against their soft bodies. When they were ready to go at it again after another five second break, they literally collapsed into each other's arms. A loose clinch ensued between them with an occasional body punch being thrown when they found the strength. After a five minute struggle in this manner, they eased them selves to the canvas floor, still locked together in the clinch, and tried their hand at wrestling. As exhausted and hurt as they both were, the wrestling was more of a slow motion ballet of two women embracing and crying as they slowly rolled around the room. Brigitte managed a weak front chin lock on her foe but it was quickly broken when Bernice simply thrust her battered hands into Brigitte's and the hold was broken. Still front to front, they would roll back and forth with great effort and then stop, sometimes the blonde on top, sometimes the brown haired woman. They weeped freely as they layed there clamped together in what would become the greatest wrestling match of all time for that town. Legs wrapped tightly into grapevined weapons and they held each other in crushing bear hug style embraces around their upper bodies and layed there on the canvas floor, crying. The crowd fell silent as the two women strained and struggled with every ounce of energy they had left. Brigitte's and Bernice's eyes were closed as they layed there for fifteen minutes and fought out this battle of wills. Harvey saw an arm rise up above them from one of the fighters but couldn't tell who's it was from the entangled pair. The delicate hand was transformed into a fist and it came around and aimed itself into the side of one of the tangled women. When it struck, Bernice cried out! Another soon followed and slammed in the exact same spot. Another cry from Bernice and the pair began to move with Brigitte rolling herself on top of Bernice. She had managed to get her legs free of Bernice's and slid slightly to the side of the bottom woman. Once there, she unloaded a slow,brutal barrage of right handed punches that pummeled Bernice's stomach area with sickening thuds. Bernice shuddered as each fist slammed into her aching stomach. Brigitte slowly kept them coming in steady streams. They were slow, they were weak, but they were having a devastating effect on Bernice. Brigitte laid her head down on Bernices shoulder and maintained her attack in slow motion. The crowd waited and watched as they layed on the floor of the room and now exchanged slow, brutal punches to each other's stomachs. For every one that Bernice threw, Brigitte sent in three. The end was near. Brigitte struggled to her knees and cradled her opponent in her arms. After a one minute motionless pause, Brigitte hurled her right fist deep into Bernice's stomach. It sloshed into the soft area and Bernice gasped and coughed and finally gagged on her agony. Lucky her stomach was empty for the fight otherwise it would have been a real mess. Bernice shuddered briefly and went limp in Brigitte's arms. The crowd came back to life and cheered hysterically as the announcer bounded back into the room and helped Brigitte up to her feet. As Bernice layed there at the hands of the town's doctor, Brigitte's arm was raised as the winner by a knockout and awarded a cash prize. Harvey would never be the same. The End...Part One. MULES When I was a kid in the sixties I hung out at the local neighborhood school during the summer months. Last place you'd expect a kid to hang out during summer break but the fact of the matter was it was a good place to be. so long as you weren't in class. The property was a square block in size with one quarter of the property occupied by the school building and the rest consisting of a large playground and a huge grass field that held four baseball diamonds. A hill that ran from the playground to the ball field supplied us with a good sledding course in the winter. During the summer we used the hill for the popular king of the hill game. I had some of my first wrestling matches with girls playing that game...but this story is not heading there. Best of all, the whole square block mecca of childhood enjoyment layed directly catty-corner to my parent's house. I had attended this school for one year in the fifth grade...when I moved to the burbs from the city. That first summer a fire at another school in the town caused the district to shift kids all over the system to other schools. We were bused to the next town, still in our school district, and the school we hung out at during our off hours remained in service to handle the lower grades. It is still in full use today. The area surrounding the school was so huge that several groups of kids were on hand at any given time on most days, varying in age and grades, but we all got along well with each other. A small town trademark to be sure. Everybody knew everybody and we all stuck together when the need arose. This one particular summer early in our summer break, our little group became the target of a certain girl who wished to tag along with us in our daily activities. Baseball,bike riding around the empty bases when a game was not going on,hanging around on the playground and talking about the mysteries that laid before us in our future years...and general things like that. We always were cordial to anyone who wanted to join our little group so Benda was welcomed aboard. She was alittle lacking in baseball skills but our resident expert...the kid who played on the little league...coached her along. As far as the other activities went, she fit right in and wasn't afraid to get dirty along with the rest of us. She wasn't a tomboy by any discription of the phrase, but she blended in to our male activities with her female style. We came to title her as our mule...a phrase not intended as a slur. Since she was the only girl in our group that was considered a regular...we had occasional females in attendance from time to time...but they were only casual members...not taking part in any of the more rigorous physical activities like baseball...we decided that mule would be a good nick name for her. We all had nick names given to us by our peers and since she was always chasing balls or retreiving forgotten jackets for us we settled on mule...referring to the hard working symbol of American farm life. The school grounds erupted into dissagreements once in awhile, but most times they were resolved verbally. An altercation rarely escolated into fisticuffs and these consisted only of boys against boys. A black eye or fat lip later all was forgiven and life returned to normal. On a sleepy summer morning when the first of our group had arrived with the early arrivals of another group, we all congregated together for some friendly talk and grapevine news exchanges. Part of that meeting revolved around the addition of our mule, Brenda. The other group, having watched Brenda chase after balls and the like for us, decided they wanted a similar female member for their group. They had a prospect anxious to join them and she would begin her membership on this day. Her name was Amiee. When she arrived our group immediatedly thought of Brenda. They were similar in appearance and physical skills we later would find out during the game of capture. A quiet moment brought an idea to light between our two little groups. The boys present from both groups...and most of both groups had not shown up that day...wondered who would win if our two mules got into a fight. They named their girl mule after hearing our explaination on Brenda's nick name. That was acceptable since both girls were from different groups. Out of their mules hearing distance...our mule had not come on this day...we began building a plot that would bring both girls to a certain clash. The plan was simple enough and practically flawless. We would launch it in a week to give their new mule time to get broken in. One week later, both groups assembled early and were conducting seperate games of kickball at opposite corners of the huge field. Kickball is played like baseball except you use a large playground ball instead of a baseball. The pitcher rolls the ball to the batter and the batter kicks the ball. With those exceptions, the rest is played baseball rules. On que, one of the guys in our game kicked a long fly ball into center field. The center fielder, in on the plot, stumbled and let the ball sail past him and into the other playing field. The timing was perfect as the other game members were waiting for the move and were ready. Our center fielder trotted into their playing field and took his good old time to move out of their way...as planned. On que again, their center fielder let loose a verbal barrage that soon had both groups lined up and exchanging verbal barbs and insults...all staged except for the two girls who were actually paired against boys in the verbal battle. On a signal, both groups lowered their voices and slowed the exchanges so their guy could be heard clearly. He stepped forward and declared that their mule could take our mule with no problem. Our guy fired back that our mule could take their mule with her hands tied behind her back. Their guy answered with,"Oh yeah? Let's just see about that!" He turned to his mule and she looked almost enthusiastic at the idea of fighting our mule in front of everybody. Our mule looked psyched up at the notion and the two girls agreed to tangle, both having been caught up in the frenzy of group madness. With cheers from all, both girls were ushered to the quieter section of the field where it would be less likely they'd be seen by outsiders. We moved into a large semi-circle and called out words of encouragement to the two girls, the fenced in backstop forming the back side of the circle. They seemed to still be eager to have at it, but as soon as they were left standing alone in the circled in area, the mood changed to one of reluctant caution between them. Some one called out ding and the two girls put up thier dukes and slowly moved to meet. Brenda and Amiee were wearing denim shorts, tee shirts,sneakers,and a rarity for that era, thick white sweat socks. Girls occasionally wore sneakers but most times didn't wear socks of any kind. It was "out" to wear white socks for any reason other than gym class,tennis, or some other sporting activity. I guessed they figured being surrounded by guys in sneakers and white socks made it acceptable for them to wear the same garb. On the fashion trail...the rest is history. They stepped to each other very slowly, almost waiting for some one to break it up before it got started. Silly girls! Yes, we were at the height of our raging hormones run amuck puberty madness and relished the thoughts of these two locked in heated combat. Hit her came bellowing from the blood thirsty crowd as Brenda and Amiee cautiously began to circle each other almost nose to nose. Their sneakers actually were transferring dust to each others, they were so close. Their fists were even touching at one point as they slowly circled in the midst of the cheering boys. Neither girl was willing to begin an exchange of knuckles so they kept circling slowly, hoping this prediciment would end before it got started. Amiee and Brenda churned up dust from the dirt under their sneakers as they dragged their feet along the home plate area of the baseball diamond. Their white socks were taking on a light brown hue about their ankles as they stayed toe to toe in the morning sunlight. Fact of the matter was that both girls were increasingly showing signs that both were scared and that they wanted no parts of this. Brenda looked at us first as she carefully stayed in step with her opponent in their circling motion. Amiee looked away at her group members shortly afterwards and she too continued to move in step with Brenda. Members on both sides urged them to fight as the frightened girls stared off in the directions of their groups. Brenda stopped in her tracks and asked Amiee to wait a minute, both girls still holding their fists up in front of their faces. Amiee agreed and they stood looking at us, frozen in time. We all went silent for a minute and waited. Just then I got a brilliant idea. I motioned for all of the onlookers to take seats in the nearby bleachers, to give the girls more room. Everybody plodded into the old wooden bleachers and sat down, the two girls directly in front of us like two female gladiators in the arena. That seemed to ease their reluctance to have at it but both were still apprehensive to get under way. They stood facing each other now, fists at the ready, in dead silence. Brenda looked over to our group again as did Amiee to her's. Both groups gestured with their fists, punching out in a do this to her motion. The two girls turned to each other, shrugged their shoulders, and began to move to each other straight ahead. They had drifted apart during this time, probably on purpose. They came together just off the base running area, in the grass between home plate and the pitcher's mound. Instead of circling or punching out, they moved into each other and pushed each other using their balled up fists. Each girl stumbled back one step and they moved forward again. Once more they used their fists to push each other again, as if using this gesture to signal they were spoiling for a fight. This was a typical starting tactic in most school yard fights but with open handed pushes, not fists. They staggered back one step again, and moved back to each other, each girl's expressions growing more determined to go at it. They were indeed making themselves more angry with each push as these escolated into fisted shoves. Now they were being shoved back two steps with each encounter. As they came together again, Amiee was about to shove her opponent once more, Brenda must have decided she was ready to fight and slugged Amiee deep into her stomach using her right fist. Amiee was clearly caught off guard and gasped out loudly as she collasped into a ball on the ground. Brenda surprised herself with this sudden and effective move and stood looking over at us with a smile on her face. Amiee wepted softly as she clutched her middle torso and rocked gently on the ground. A few minutes passed and to everybody's surprise, Amiee slowly got back to her feet and squared off again. Brenda thought she had won an easy victory and suggested to Amiee that she should give up. Amiee glared at her and answered a resounding no. Amiee moved to Brenda and they collided with a wild flurry of lefts and rights that thudded deep into their bodies. They stood toe to toe and battered away with wild rage, crying out and grunting with blow. A low uppercut caught Brenda square on her chin and rocked our mule back and off her feet. She staggered back a few steps before falling to the ground. The crowd began to count from one to ten as Brenda struggled to get up. She made it to her feet on eight and squared off with Amiee again. They wasted no time with caution and strode into battle again. The girls battled in heated anger now, plowing punches at each other with fire in their eyes and snarls on their faces. They moved about the baseball diamond in a determined fashion, slugging away at each other as tears and sweat began to flow. They became locked in a close embrace and fought a body to body punch out. Left arms locked firmly around their heads, they fought with right punches to their sides and frontal body areas. At times they were stopping the punches and simply embracing each other, more likely to keep from falling down in their now clumsy ballet of battle. They looked to be wrestling on their feet, trying to trip each other to the ground while still holding onto each other tightly. Their socks showed the toll of this struggling, becoming scrunched down as they continued to struggle about the grass. A few more body punches on both parts brought the girls to a hairpulling embrace now. They latched onto each other's hair and began to fight using hairpulling as their main attacks. An occasional body punch was launched but hairpulling now reigned supreme in the fight. Cries and chirps of pain filtered from both girl's lips as they fought their way back onto the base line and kicked up more dust. Amiee and Brenda fought into the backstop and began to kick at each other's legs as they held onto their hairpulling tactics and continued to fight. Canvas sneakers whacked into bare skinned legs as they exchanged kicks just above the tops of their socks. They rocked from side to side as they fought against the fence and pulled hair and kicked with robotic intensity. Amiee brought her right fist back slowly and when she had an opening, slammed it directly into Brenda's face just below her left eye. She got Brenda into a side headlock as a result of her stunning our mule and began to pummel her face and head with sharp blows that had our girl screaming out in pain. Brenda countered by reaching down to Amiee's legs and shoved herself harshly against her opponent. The move toppled both girls to the ground and they scrambled apart. Brenda was bruised and bleeding from her nose and mouth. A black eye was forming just under her left eye and her cheeks were ablaze from the fists that had pummeled them. Amiee was sporting a fat lip and bloody nose. Her chin was bruised and her cheeks marked from combat. The girls's legs were reddening from the sneaker assaults but not bleeding. They made it to their feet breifly and fell into each other, grasping each other loosely, they fell to the ground and locked together into a wrestling catfight. They rolled around the baseball diamond infield as the crowd watched and cheered on their mules. Brenda, our mule, ended up on top of her opponent and held Amiee under her as she pulled her hair and punched her body. Amiee was pulling hair back but Brenda's punches were too much for the bottom girl. A faint "I give" came from under Brenda and the top girl rolled off her opponent and sat their alongside her. Amiee rolled into a fetal position and wailed like a baby as her group rushed to her side to comfort her. We all got Brenda to her feet and slapped her back and congradulated her on her victory. She uttered four words to us that day..."Thank's...I'm outta here!" We were now muleless. The End Page One

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