visual static.
I also thought I'd gone deaf. But then it hit me that it was just dead quiet from everyone else being stunned, too.
I rolled onto my forearm and stood up.
I'd done it!
The first thing I saw was El Gato. Even with his hood I could tell that his scary cat eyes were bugged way out. Then the Marine punched a fist into the air and whooped, “Yes!” But Benny shouted, “Hey! Is this some kind of a con? There's no way that girl's never taken a bump before!”
“No one's conning you,” Tony said as he began passing out money to the winners. “You called the bet, remember?”
Slammin' Dave was grinning at me but good. He shook my hand and said, “What's your name, kid?”
“I'm
not
a kid!”
He gave a soft snort. “Sure you are. And take my advice—enjoy it while you can.” Then he says, “So? You gonna tell me your name or am I gonna have to make oneup?” And before I can even say, It's Sammy,
he
says, “I got it! You're The Tiny Tiger.”
“The Tiny Tiger? I'm not a—”
He laughs, “Oh yes you are!” Then he calls over to Tony, “Hey, give The Tiny Tiger her cut!”
Now, I'm expecting all these musclemen to laugh and roll their eyes at my new, stupid name, but they don't. They all just sort of nod like, Yeah. Fits.
Tony smiles as he peels off two twenties. “Nice going, chiquita.”
“Thanks,” I tell him, taking the money.
Slammin' Dave calls, “Intermission's over, boys! Time for some pain!” He spreads the ropes for me to climb through and says, “You're welcome back anytime, Triple-T.”
“Triple-T?”
He's grinning, boy. Grinning big. “The … Tiny… Tiger.”
“I am
not
a tiny tiger!” I tell him as I climb out of the ring, but really, how mad can I be? I've got forty bucks in my hand, and I took a front bump on my first try.
Now the truth is, with everything that had happened, I'd completely forgotten why I was at Slammin' Dave's to begin with. But as I was heading for the front door, it all came flooding back. The Psycho Kitty Queen's cat. The Bulldog cat snatcher…
I looked over my shoulder. El Gato was busy talking to Dave on the far side of the mats, so I decided to take a quick peek into the room that's to the right of the front door. Maybe that's where the Bulldog had gone.
It turned out to be an office. I went inside and whispered, “Here, kitty-kitty-kitty” under the desks, but I didn't find any cats. Just roll-around chairs, a computer, wrestling posters, and papers. Papers
everywhere
—newspapers, printer paper, legal pads, maps, receipts—I'd never seen such a messy office. And boy, did it smell!
“Take a wrong turn?” a voice behind me rasped.
I jumped and turned. El Gato was standing there, staring at me with his creepy cat eyes. I kind of smiled at him and said, “Uh… I was just going to use the phone real quick. My mom's probably, you know, worried.”
He took me by the collar. “Quit prowling around and get out.”
“But—”
“You heard me,” he said, then dragged me along and tossed me outside.
Oh well. It's not like I'd found any evidence of kitty-napping. But what had happened to the Bulldog? I stood on the sidewalk thinking for a minute, then decided to go next door to the Pup Parlor.
When Vera saw me, she said, “You're back! Are you doing better than you were before?”
I laughed. “A lot better.” I showed her the forty bucks. “And richer!”
Meg and Holly were paying attention now, too. “Where'd you get that?” Holly asked.
“At Slammin' Dave's,” I said with a grin.
“Slammin' Dave's?” Meg asked. “How on earth…?”
So I started running off at the mouth about going to Hudson's and having another encounter with the PsychoKitty Queen and what she had said about some bulldog-looking guy stealing her cat, and how that got me sucked into
following
some bulldog-looking guy into Slammin' Dave's, and how I hid under the wrestling ring and got flushed out by El-Gato-the-Freaky-Cat-Dude and wound up