Winston Groom - Forrest Gump

"Listen," I says, "this bastid is tryin to kill me, beatin me on the head with a chair an all. I is gonna have to do somethin bout it."

"What you is gonna do is lose ," Mike say. "He ain't tryin to hurt you—he is just tryin to make it look good."

"It sure don't feel good," I say.

"Jus stay in there for a few more minutes an then let him pin you down," Mike says. "Remember, you is makin five hundrit dollars for comin here an losin—not winnin."

"He hits me with that chair again, I don't know what I'm gonna do," I says. I am lookin out in the audience an there is Jenny lookin upset an embarrassed. I am beginnin to think this is not the right thing to do.

Anyhow, the bell rung again an out I go. The Turd try to grap me by the hair but I flung him off an he go spinnin into the ropes like a top. Then I picked him up aroun the waist an lif him up but he slid out of my grip an land on his ass an be moanin an complainin an rubbin his ass, an the nex thing I knew, his manager done handed him one of them "plumber's helpers" with the rubber thing on the end an he commence to beat me on the head with that. Well, I grapped it away from him an busted it in two over my knee an start goin after him, but I see Mike there, shakin his head, an so I let The Turd come an take holt of my arm an twist it in a hammerlock.

The sumbitch damn near broke my arm. Then he shoved me down on the canvas an begun to hit me in the back of the head with his elbow. I coud see Mike over there, noddin an smilin his approval. The Turd get off me an commenced to kickin me in the ribs an stomach, then he got his chair again an wacked me over the head with it eight or nine times an finally he kneed me in the back an there wadn't a thing I coud do bout it.

I jus lay there, an he set on my head an the referee counted to three an it was sposed to be over. The Turd get up an look down at me an he spit in my face. It was awful an I didn't know what else to do, an I jus couldn't hep it, an I started to cry.

The Turd was prancin aroun the ring an then Dan come up an rolled himsef over to me an started wipin my face with a towel, an nex thing I knew, Jenny had come up in the ring too an was huggin me an cryin hersef an the crowd was hollerin an yellin an throwin stuff into the ring.

"C'mon, let's get outta here," Dan say, an I got to my feet an The Turd be stickin out his tongue at me an makin faces.

"You is certainly correctly named," Jenny says to The Turd as we was leavin the ring. "That was disgraceful."

She could of said it bout both of us. I ain't never felt so humiliated in my life.

The ride back to Indianapolis was pretty awkward. Dan an Jenny ain't sayin nothin much an I am in the back seat all sore an skint up.

"That was a damn good performance you put on out there tonight, Forrest," Mike says, "especially the cryin at the end—crowd loved it!"

"It wadn't no performance," Dan says.

"Oh, shucks," Mike say. "Look—somebody's always got to lose. I'll tell you what—nex time, I will make sure Forrest wins. How's that make you feel?"

"Ought not to be any 'nex time,' " Jenny says.

"He made good money tonight, didn't he?" Mike say.

"Five hundrit dollars for gettin the shit beat out of him ain't so good," Jenny says.

"Well it was his first match. Tell you what—nex time, I'll make it six hundrit."

"How about twelve hundrit?" Dan axed.

"Nine hundrit," Mike says.

"How bout lettin him wear a bathin suit instead of that dunce cap an diapers?" says Jenny.

"They loved it," Mike says. "It's part of his appeal."

"How would you like to have to dress up in somethin like that?" Dan says.

"I ain't a idiot," says Mike.

"You shut the fuck up bout that," Dan say.

Well, Mike was good for his word. Nex time I rassled, it was against a feller called "The Human Fly." He was dressed up in somethin with a big pointed snout like a fly have, an a mask with big ole bugged-out eyes. I got to thow him bout the ring an finally set on his head an I collected my nine hundrit dollars. Furthermore, everbody in the crowd cheered wildly an kep hollerin, "We want The Dunce! We want The Dunce!" It wadn't such a bad deal.

Nex, I got to rassle The Fairy, an they even let me bust his wand over his head. After that, they was a hole bunch of guys I come up against, an Dan an me had managed to save up about five thousan dollars for the srimp bidness. But also let me say this: I was gettin very popular with the crowds. Women was writin me letters an they even begun to sell dunce caps like mine as souvenirs. Sometimes I'd go into the ring an they would be fifty or a hundrit people settin there in the audience wearin dunce caps, all clappin an cheerin an callin out my name. Kinda made me feel good, you know?

Meantime, me an Jenny is gettin along fairly good cept for my rasslin career. Ever night when she get back to the apartment we cook ourselfs some supper an her an me an Dan set aroun in the livin room an plan bout how we gonna start the srimp bidness. The way we figger it, we is gonna go down to Bayou La Batre, where po ole Bubba come from, an get us some marsh land off the Gulf of Mexico someplace. We has got to buy us some mesh wire an nets an a little rowboat an somethin to feed the srimp wile they growin, an they will be other things too. Dan say we has also got to be able to have us a place to live an buy groceries an stuff wile we wait for our first profits an also have some way to git them to the market. All tole, he figgers it is gonna take bout five thousan dollars to set everthing up for the first year—after that, we will be on our own.

The problem I got now is with Jenny. She say we already got the five thousan an so why don't we jus go ahead an pack up an go down there? Well, she have a point there, but to be perfectly truthful, I jus ain't quite ready to leave.

You see, it ain't really been since we played them Nebraska corn shucker jackoffs at the Orange Bowl that I has really felt like I done accomplished somethin. Maybe for a little bit durin the ping-pong games in Red China, but that lasted just for a few weeks. But now, you see, ever Saturday night ever week, I am goin out there an hearin them cheer. An they is cheerin me —idiot or not.

You should of heard them cheer when I whupped The Grosse Pointe Grinder, who come into the ring with hundrit dollar bills glued to his body. An then they was "Awesome Al from Amarillo," that I done put a Boston Crab hold on an won mysef the Eastern Division champeenship belt. After that, I got to rassle Juno the Giant, who weighed four hundrit pounds an dressed in a leopard skin an carried a papier-mache club.

But one day when Jenny come home from work she say, "Forrest, you an me has got to have a talk."

We went outside an took a walk near a little creek an Jenny foun a place to set down, an then she say, "Forrest, I think this rasslin business is gone far enough."

"What you mean?" I axed, even though I kind of knew.

"I mean we have got nearly ten thousan dollars now, which is more than twice what Dan says we need to start the srimp business. And I am beginnin to wonder jus why you are continuin to go up there ever Saturday night an make a fool of yoursef."

"I ain't makin no fool of mysef," I says, "I has got my fans to think of. I am a very popular person. Cain't jus up an leave like that."

"Bullshit," Jenny say. "What you callin a 'fan,' an what you mean by 'popular'? Them people is a bunch of screwballs to be payin money to watch all that shit. Bunch of grown men gettin up there in they jockstraps an pretendin to hurt each other. An whoever heard of people callin theyselfs 'The Vegetable,' or 'The Turd,' an such as that—an you , callin yoursef 'The Dunce'!"