The Midget Matador

Near small Rapid City, a man came up to me, said,”Hey, I’ll show you a good time.” I thought that meant girls, turns out, as things unfurled, the man had something else in mind. We went to a garage, a rusty, grease-stained blotch, type of place you’d see a drug deal, not sure I could trust him, but then as we stepped in, I saw a crowd, excitement real. Just judging by the sight, it looked like a cockfight, roosters with spurs, green money flew, people from everywhere were all jammed into there, jostling for a better view. But then when I got close, no chickens, don’t you know, just a small man inside the ring, not even three-feet tall, the smallest of them all, just perched in there, calmly waiting. I scratched my head and stared, what was he doing there? Why did this whole thing feel so strange? What had I stumbled in? Fighting midgets seems wrong? It struck me as a bit deranged. Then came the weirdest bit, rooster thrown in the pit, the midget pulled a handkerchief, It was paisley and red, at him the chicken sped, lashing out with two claw-spurred feet. That midget spun around, the rooster did go down, and all the crowd cried out,”Ole!” This little man was fast, poor poultry couldn’t last, he spun around it like at play. Then a man at my side told me there’d been a time, when the midget had wanted bulls. Size had precluded him, his fate would’ve been grim, but without it he’d not feel full. He’d found another path, and I was watching that, matadoring the fighting cocks, Then that rooster he faced, sought out a resting place, and the whole warehouse soon did rock. Never thought I would see such a strange victory, they raised a cheer and paid out bets. Matador got his share, and I got out of there, some fresh air I needed to get. Guess my timing was good, ’cause right then guess who should choose that fine moment to arrive? Cops dressed in riot gear, dressed to inspire fear, they smashed the door and rushed inside. So what else can I say, I quickly slipped away, and to the city I did go. That was my strangest ‘fun,’ until I rode a bison right through a small town rodeo…