Uncle Stan challenged Jimmy the second his nephew stepped out of the car.
“Best outta three. Loser pays ten bucks.”
Jimmy smiled at his mother’s big brother.
Uncle Stan.
The eternal Marine.
Semper Fi and all that.
Uncle Stan was a HE MAN all the way, and he was the macho ironworker who had humiliated his nephew Jimmy every summer since Jimmy was old enough to arm wrestle.
“Best of three. Loser pays ten bucks.”
It was always the same, and Jimmy was always out ten bucks the moment he and his family hit Pennsylvania to visit Uncle Stan and Aunt Ethel and their three girls. That’s right: Uncle Stan had three daughters and no sons, hence his fixation on fixing his sister’s boy Jimmy. And he had fixed that boy Jimmy every summer since Jimmy was seven.
But this summer-the one in question-Jimmy had been working on the railroad back in Michigan. Call him a gandy dancer, but call him a 19-year-old mass o’ muscles who spent his summer vacation pounding spikes with a ten-pound sledge.
Summer help.
And some help Jimmy was to the railroad by driving all those spikes with that ten-pound sledge and manhandling ties and raking ballast.
A veritable man of iron he is, and, now, as he listens to Uncle Stan’s annual challenge, he smiles and says: “Hey, I don’t want to hurt you, old man.”
That just grabs Uncle Stan by the goatee, and he wants to settle this “right here and now!”
And so they set right down at the picnic table in the yard and get down to it.
“WHUMP!!”
Uncle Stan is shocked.
“It’s best of three,” he says, panting. “I wasn’t ready.”
Jimmy eyes his uncle and flexes.
Uncle Stan eyes his nephew and flexes.
And then they go to it.
Jimmy thinks for a moment that he’ll let Uncle Stan win round two so they can take it to the final round, but, he decides, when has this old jerk cut me any slack?
So he WHUMPS his old Uncle Stan in the opening seconds of round two, with the whole family watching.
When it’s over, Jimmy holds out his hand and says, “You owe me ten bucks, old man.”
Uncle Stan says, “Hey, about best of seven?”
Jimmy says, “Sure,” and proceeds to lay a serious WHUMPIN’ on the man who took such delight in humiliating him each and every summer since he was seven.
But when it’s over, and his uncle is handing him the ten bucks he won fair and square, Jimmy smiles magnanimously, pats his uncle on the back, and says: “There’s always next year, pops.”