PART THREE OF MAXIM AND BIG-E

was. But he also understood this most violent of male-oriented athletics was still better then warfare
between men. He was among those progressives who held that Lion-Fighting provided something of a
supplement to male violence in these decades following The Last War. “I don’t judge you guys”, Randi
said. “But just how did Little B get involved?”
Big-E continued his explanation as the Le Muffett brothers stood by ready to back up anything he might
say that didn’t sound completely stupid. He explained to Randi that this had been the final match of the
season and that it had been a “throw away” or victory lap for them. Nobody—the league included—
expected much in the way of Real Lion-Fighting action. Cost-saving was their main objective in something
like this. Plus, they didn’t want to go up again any A list cats for such a match. The league didn’t care
what type of lions they matched up with as long as they were legal size—which basically meant no fringe
lion.
So they’d gone down south into eastern San Diego County where plenty of run-of-the-mill California
Tall’s roamed. That type of Lion wasn’t always easy to engage. There were plenty of wild cattle down
there and even bison. Some lions had such a deeply nested taste for great ape that they couldn’t help but
engage a pack of men—whether they were Lion-Fighters, or wilderness rangers with guns. And human
meat drove lions crazy. It was like eating bacon or honey-baked ham for them. The California Tall’s
however, were a little different. They were fairly mellow by lion standards and generally went after calves
or young coyote. They seemed to prefer smaller animals. What the Le Muffett crew had learned over time
was that this type of lion was especially drawn to canine puppies. It was like a gourmand treat for them.
And they really went wild if you tied a little pork chop around the puppy’s neck.
“Oh my God Big-E, you used Little B as bait? Did you put a piece of meat on him? Oh my God…I
knew I smelled something very strange on top of his neck.”
Maxim interjected a comment that he hoped would take the brutal edge off of all of this for Randi. “We
will usually get expensive pet-store puppies. We never use rescue dogs.” Randi glanced quizzically at him
for a moment. Second-youngest brother Bill added that the puppies were never injured and that they all
were given to good homes on the way home after a match.
“Always?” Randi asked hopefully. Randi & Little
B
The LeMuffett team nodded variously and said “oh yeah” in chorus, as each
member tried not to think about that one 3 month old Golden Retriever.
Big-E continued. “The problem with puppies is that they have to be tied to a
stake.”
“And they whimper a lot” said Maxim. “When we do these matches for tape
delay we need to produce an a-to-z, real-time document of the fight. We don’t get
to do a lot of editing. And it’s really hard to keep the puppy whimpering off the
record.”
Randi understood what they was getting at. He knew Little B better then
anyone except perhaps Coco herself. He had trained Little B as a puppy. The
loveable little pet lived with him when she was away and couldn’t take him. She
wouldn’t think of leaving him with Big-E or anyone else. Randi was one of the
few people who knew that Little B almost never made any noise and would always
stay right where you put him if you told him to stay. Randi now knew exactly why
Little B would be the perfect lion bait.
“So how did he get all that blood around his mouth? He doesn’t have a scratch
on him.”
When they told Randi the full story he was frowning and just shaking his head.
“I can’t believe that!” he kept saying—looking at Little B and asking, “Is this
true?”. When Maxim suggested almost frantically that the dog had a “demon
sleeper” buried deep within him, Randi came to believe the story was likely to be fact. He could see
Maxim was fully serious. Randi told Maxim that if what they said was truly the case, then it had only been
out of loyalty and concern for them that Little B had suddenly changed character and attacked the lion.
“Yeah, and now that’s what I’ve been saying” said Ronnie, looking over at his oldest brother. The rest
of the crew—all except Maxim—voiced their agreement. Maxim just shook his head sadly at what looked
to him like a pack of fools. It was clear to the rest of them that, “the greatest of lion fighters” was truly
threatened by his sister’s little poodle dog. But Maxim had seen it with his own eyes. Randi tried to
reassure him.
“Little B doesn’t possess a bad bone in his body, Max.” He kissed his beloved pet who responded by
leaning back in his arms and licking Randi’s cheek.”
“Anyway” he said. “I don’t think you have to worry about that story getting out. Nobody would ever
believe it.”
“But you’re going to tell Robert, aren’t you?” It was time for Big-E to get his non-disclosure agreement
from Randi.
“I tell Robert everything, Big-E. There are no secrets between us!” He said this almost ferociously.
“And then he’s going to tell Coco and she’ll make my life a living hell! “
“It’ll likely end their six-level marriage agreement “ Maxim added, letting a look of supreme
earnestness fall from his eyes onto Randi.
Bill spoke up then. “And if that happen, you know Coco gonna get more then half of Big-E’s money!”
That brought laughter to the whole crew.
“Robert won’t say anything”, Randi said—and the curt, knowing manner in how he said it made all of
them believe it.
Later on the way back to Big-E and Coco’s seven acre paradise estate, it was Ronnie who held Little B.
He liked the smell of the bit of jasmine perfume and would sniff him every once & awhile. Bill nudged
him at one point and smiled slyly. “Hey Big-E. You really think Robert gonna keep the secret?”
“I dunno,” he replied from up front in the driver’s seat.
“I think he will, you wanna know why?” Bill was giggling and making his brother giggle by sticking
his elbow into his Ronnie’s ribs. Big-E said to tell him why he thought that.
“’Cause Randi gonna tell him to be quiet. And you know who control the booty in that relationship!”
Coco Le
Muffett
As the two of them stood out in Big-E’s training area, Maxim reminded him of
that joke and how damn funny that was. “And I think he was 100% correct. Coco
didn’t find out.”
“And never will!” Big-E said sharply. “That story staying’ just with the boys,
oafy.”
“Oh I know” Maxim replied. “At least until we get really old and don’t have
no mo good stories to tell”. Big-E laughed. Seeing Maxim again made him feel
more normal then he had for weeks.
“I’ll see you later. I’m going back up to the house and check on the kids.”
“You still worried that Little B might hurt one?” Maxim shook his head. He
said that he already watched as his boys were pulling on his legs and front paws
and tail. “And he just sat there like nothing until the girls came and rescued him.
Just sat there like he always do, looking’ like some little teddy bear.”
The two greatest Lion-Fighters of all-time squeezed each others’ biceps and
Maxim headed back up to the house.
Big-E began to clean-up after his workout. He took the target stands apart and
carried them into the shed. The 16” blade and his practice baton were taken to his
shop and put into their place on the weapons wall. He vacuumed up the filings
and dust on his workbench he had made earlier trying to perfectly edge the blade. Then he went to the
refrigerator, got himself a bottle of Big-E’s DRINK , and refreshed himself as he sat down on the little patio
outside his weight room gazing out at the wilderness behind his seven-acre property.
He instinctively searched the landscape for signs of lion even though he knew that the Santa Barbara
County Rangers regularly, and effectively combed this area and made it uninhabitable for the California
Tall’s that dominated the wild lands further to the east. He didn’t keep any guns on the property for those
rare occasions when lions came in close. His pride as a Lion-Fighter prohibited that. He kept a state-of-
the-art cross-bow that loaded and cocked itself automatically. They were tipped with powerful tranquilizer.
He had Coco practice with the weapon too even though she always protested when he made her.
 Big-E sniffed the gust of wind that suddenly filled the porch. The Autumnal Equinox was here. The
dead of Winter was three months off. The following Spring was six months away. He wasn’t sure when he
would get the call that things were ready to go down. Sometime between the first of Winter and the first of
Spring. That’s what they had told him. And he couldn’t talk about it with Maxim or anyone else. The plan
hatched by World Security Intelligence was comprehensive and utterly audacious. They were planning to
eradicate the final enclaves of The Fascists in one big swoop. Big-E still didn’t fully understand why they
had drafted him to play a role in this. But many others were secretly being drafted as well.
He checked the time on his phone. He couldn’t stay out there for too long. The party guests would
begin to come in a few hours and he had to get ready. Coco was making him wear a suit for the occasion.
He didn’t like the way he looked in a suit but it was her big day so he agreed. He finished his drink and
climbed down to his little mat on the floor of the patio and propped his back up against the wall. He tucked
in his legs, straightened his back and watched the energy go up his spine. He let everything go out of his
mind until a bit of The Light broke through and refreshed him.
The open space behind his property stretched out for hundreds of miles. Beyond the Gonzales National
Forest was the great western desert. That’s where the Mohave Tall’s ruled the land. Big-E could never
figure out why the big cats had chosen to expand into such an environment. After The Great Financial
Collapse of 1718 and the onset of The Great Depression, the conservation corps began their rapid lion
breeding program and seeded the wilderness areas of Northern America with Amazonia Tall’s—the native
large cat of the hemisphere.
Ecologists had been employed to make sure the job was done correctly and the lions were strategically
placed. It worked out well in Canada and the US, but from Mexico on down to South America the breeding
and placement had been done so poorly that it caused an ecological disaster. The corporatization of the
wild lands in those countries had been done on the cheap—for the greatest profit of the A Class executives.
Between the lion disaster and the biological war launched by the mad British Lord Rashling, million of
Latin’s had been killed. This had all taken place with the rise of The Last War in the 30’s.
Now, all people could think about was expanding into the wild lands. A Class executives from the
progressive Democratic wing were sounding the charge. The Fascists wanted a more conservative
approach that would ensure them and their legions the highest possible personal profit during the
expansion. They used every dirty trick in the book to ensure their positions. But the tide was turning and
as Big-E’s contact in World Security had emphasized, “the Fascists are completely oblivious to what’s

Ethan
Vulerummer
coming”. Target One was none other then the chairman of V Corp
himself, Ethan Vulerummer!
Big-E knew the special role World Security had given him would make
it very hard to continue his career in Lion-Fighting. Many Lion-Fighting
fans had been brainwashed with Fascist rhetoric and manipulated like
small children—even educated B Class people. He didn’t really care
about that. He had accomplished more then he could’ve ever expected
and was ready to quit. He held the all-time batted lion head knockout
record , had plenty of money and property, and was ready to take up golf.
He always let those who didn’t follow the sport know that it was
Maxim who made the record possible.
Even with one leg he was a magic man. His sheer presence on the field
seemed to disconcert the lions. It was like he drew part of their energy.
He didn’t even use the laser eye blinder on his spear to break a lion’s
fearsome gaze but just stared at them with his own eyes. Maxim could be
ten or twenty yards away holding off a secondary lion and still let out one of his piercing screams. That
would effect the attention of the main alpha male Big-E was matched up against and in that moment he
would bat its head and knock it silly.
Then he would try and get its throat slit before Maxim bounded over and pierced its heart with a single,
accurate thrust of his razor-tipped spear. Big-E would’ve held all of the lion slit-throat records as well if
Maxim would’ve been just a little less aggressive.
Coco would always chide her brother saying, “Maxi, please don’t ruin the lion heart today. You know
what they worth!” Intact, championship lion hearts were worth almost half of what you could get for a
pay-per-view main alpha male lion-head. Lion-Fighters made good money off “championship parts” as
they were called. Maxim would just laugh at his little sister and say, “girl, all you ever think about is
money, money, and more money!” And it was true. Coco Le Muffett was every bit as aggressive in
business as her brothers were in sports. Coco’s retort on one occasion was; “and all you care about his
running up your personal stats! How come you never save anything for your brothers?”
They had all been together that day and Maxim heard this and rumbled with laughter. “I tried to save a
spear shot a while back fo Bill…but I think he need glasses or something. He missed the chest altogether
and ended up sticking the spear right up the Lion’s ass and left him mutilated and made as hell!” Even
Coco had laughed at that.
But thoughts of Lion-Fighting would not on the schedule today for her. Today was the sixth-year party
of her marriage contract with Big-E. The following year would bring the full celebration of traditional
marriage and be an even bigger event. But today’s party would set the stage for that and promised to be
quite a day.

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