My ankles are shackled to a large leg spreader. A spider gag or any other kind of wide-open mouth gag is firmly attached to my head. Then I am harshly driven into a bathroom dragging my shackled feet, ordered to sit on the toilet facing the wall, use it and left there while everybody else arrives. I can see there is a camera in the bathroom monitoring me.I am left alone there, maybe for 2 or 3 hours. From time to time, I can hear more people entering the house. My heart pounds in anxiety, expectation and fear.Next, two helpers come to the bathroom. They pull the chain to flush the toilet, then drag me into the bathtub. They open the cold water and thoroughly wash me with hard brushes, like scrubbing a piece of wood. I am warned that's my last opportunity to drink if I need it. I gulp cold water down my wide-open gagged mouth. Once they've made sure I am clean as a whistle, I am dragged to the Punishment Room without even being dried up.The Punishment Room is large, maybe a huge. It got your name in the record books and it wasn’t anything to scoff at.We had a party at the hotel. There were some people from Pittsburgh who’d come for the fight, and some locals who’d come just because it was a party. It didn’t matter, we were in that kind of mood; friend or scrounger, all were welcome. So far as I knew it was the first real break in training Dave had since this whole business started. He came over to me with Marie on his arm and a bottle of Schmidt’s in his hand.“God damned beer, Charlie, you don’t know how good it tastes until you haven’t had it for a while. It’s great stuff.”“That’s not the only thing that’s better if you haven’t had it in a while.”I looked at Marie and saw she was blushing, I hoped I hadn’t insulted her. It was hard for me to think that I’d had such a low opinion of her a little over a month ago. Now I was worried that a slightly off colored innuendo may have embarrassed or offended her. It’s funny how your point of view can change. Back then.
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