“So if I sign on with FM, what’s my cut?”
His cut?
Was he serious?
Two weeks before, the guy staggered into Fighters’ Mill. One of the first questions out of his mouth concerned money. Chance’s manager and I sat the kid down and went over the facts. He claimed he understood.
I stared at his blond buzz cut and so much ink that I could barely see skin. Normally, I had no problems with tattoos, but the candidate had some dicey designs—objects and sayings totally in opposition with Fighters’ Mill image. The display made my blood boil.
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