on the day of the fight, charlie jingle corralled the tanker in the workshop and ordered the amazed tanker to lie down on the work-bench for a "tune up". the tanker protested.
"you crazy, charlie? whuffor? i never felt so good in my life!"
"don't gimme any arguments, tank. stretch out and shuddup."
"but charlie...."
"stretch out, for god's sake!"
"what you gonna do?"
"re-vamp you. i'm gonna run the tapes on the bout with the contender, and stuff your memory banks with tapes on every fight was ever had with a pugs, inc. product. then i'm gonna run tapes on hammerhead johnny. i'm gonna key up your reflex-pattern to the point where you'll be operating so fast your joints are liable to break down in the ring."
tanker stared at him, open-mouthed. "what for? will you please tell me that? what for?"
"after i've fed you the tapes on the contender and hammerhead, you'll know, if those goddam memory-computers of yours ain't so rusty they can still work."
"you tryin' to teach me somethin' i don't know?"
"that's right."
"why can't you just tell me?"
"if you figure it out yourself, you won't like it any more than if i told you; but you'll know it the hard way."
"what a hellofa way to teach me somethin'! jazzin' me up! my co-ordination is perfect, analysis-system is workin' like a voodoo charm, and you wanna jazz me up! it's like committin' suicide!"
something in the tanker's face changed, quickly and suddenly, as if a diamond-bright idea exploded inside his steel-plated head.
"charlie?"
charlie jingle looked up from his assortment of tools. "what?"
"is this a fix?"
charlie jingle looked at him, the flush of anger brightening his eyes. "is that a joke, tanker?"
"no, charlie. a question."
"stretch out," said charlie jingle gruffly.
"answer me first, charlie. is it?"
"whatta you think?"
"i dunno," said the tanker, stretching out slowly.
"you really wanna win that fight, kid?" asked charlie jingle, sad and tender.
"you know i do!"
"trust me then, hah?"
the tanker laughed, stretching out on the bench.
the light glittered cold on the smooth worn steel of the tools in charlie jingle's hands.
