Red Anderson unlocked the door at 6 PM on the dot. In the parking lot as a cluster of last minute smokers puffed away, Red mentally counted the line – 74, including a family still inside a black SUV.

“Looks like a good crowd,” Red thought as he walked away leaving the door to the ticket seller.

Exactly an hour later, an announcer climbed up into the wrestling ring.

“Ladies and Gentlemen. . .” An overly loud breakdown of the night’s events ensued, garnering light applause. Then, The Black Scorpion entered the ring.

“I am an artist, " the masked wrestler began. “This ring is my canvas and my opponents are the brushes with which I will paint for you.”

As he continued, the crowd settled down. Scorpion had caught their hearts. He was known to some of them and a stranger to most, but he inspired them all with his dreams of a higher calling.

Red shot the announcer the high sign as Scorpion exited the ring.

The announcer cried, “Let’s get ready to rumble!” as The Black Scorpion prepared his masterpiece.