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“Okay, Jer. Whatever you say,” said Johnny, thinking this was a great game. And a nice change of pace. Sitting in this prison cell was getting kinda boring without his phone. He liked to play Candy Crush to while away the time. Or to look for those Pok?mons. But the cops had taken his phone away, which he thought was not very nice of them.

Jerry took a boxer’s stance while Johnny just stood there, like the man mountain that he was, waiting for his friend to throw the first fake punch so he could fake-retaliate.

“Now remember to make a lot of noise, all right?” said Jerry. “The more noise the better.”

“What kind of noise?” asked Johnny, interested in this new development.

“Any kind of noise! Screaming, shouting, name calling. This is supposed to be a big fight, you see. And when people fight they make a lot of noise.”

“Oh, I get it,” said Johnny, nodding. “What names do you want me to call you, Jer?”

Jerry rolled his eyes.“Who cares! Anything goes, Johnny. That’s the name of the game: anything goes. Now are you ready for my first punch?”

Johnny grinned.“Sure, Jer. Do your worst.” He’d always been a big fan of action movies, the kind with plenty of fight scenes. And now he was going to be in one of those scenes himself. It tickled his funny bone. But then Jerry hauled off and landed the first punch and it actually hurt!

Jerry had tiny fists but he was a wiry little fella and when he threw a punch it made a hole in Johnny’s stomach and he said ‘Oof!’ and actually doubled over because he hadn’t expected that.

“Jer! You punched me!”

“Of course I punched you! What did you think this was? A game of chess? We’re fighting, Johnny. Mean and dirty. Like in that movie Fight Club, remember?”

Johnny didn’t remember, but he did think Jerry shouldn’t actually have punched him. “That wasn’t a make-believe punch, Jer,” he said. “That was a real punch.”

“So give me a real punch back, or are you too lily-livered, you big pussy?”

Johnny frowned. He didn’t like the way this fight was going. “I don’t want to hit you, Jer,” he repeated. “You’re my friend and I don’t like to hit my friends.”

“You mean like this?” said Jerry, and gave Johnny another needle punch in the gut that made the big guy go all ‘Oof!’ “Or like this?” Jerry continued, and hit his friend on the nose!

“Hey—no fair!” said Johnny. “You said you weren’t going to hit for real—only fake!”

“Oh, stop whining and start hitting,” Jerry growled. “Do some damage, you big lummox!”

Finally, after the third kick to the stomach—a sensitive area for the big man—Johnny had finally had enough. So he raised his great big fist and gave his friend a light tap against the temple. Jerry flew through the prison cell, hit the wall, and slumped to the floor, out for the count. And when moments later the guard came to check on them and found Jerry knocked out on the floor, he shook his head and sighed the sigh of a long-suffering guard. “I’ll call the doc. Again.”

“I didn’t even hit him that hard,” said Johnny, still surprised by this turn of events.

“That’s what they all say,” said the guard, and took out his phone to call the doctor.

When Jerry finally regained consciousness, and stared up into the face of Dr. Tex Poole, he said,“Am I out? Did I escape?”

“No, you didn’t escape, Mr. Vale,” said Tex, “but if I were you I’d take it easy for a couple of days. And no more tussles, you hear?”

“I didn’t even hit that hard,” Johnny repeated. “I only nudged him with my fist.”

“Well, that seems to have done the trick,” said Tex, helping Jerry up from the floor. “No lasting damage, though. Not even a concussion. But don’t do it again, Mr. Carew.” The doctor gave him a reproachful look that hit Johnny like a punch to the gut.

“But he asked me to hit him, Doc. He really did.”

“You mean like in Fight Club?” asked the doctor, who seemed to know his movies.

“Yeah, exactly like in Fight Club.”

“So who were you supposed to be? Brad Pitt or Edward Norton?”

“I’m not sure,” said Johnny. He glanced at Jerry, then at the doctor. “Brad Pitt?”

The doctor smiled and clapped him on the back.“Of course, Mr. Carew. Of course.”

Once they were alone again, Jerry snarled,“That’s another fine mess you got us into, Johnny.”

Johnny gave his friend a sheepish look.“I’m sorry, Jer. Sometimes I don’t know my own strength.”

“Yeah, well,” said his partner, laying back on his bunk. “That’s it for me. I give up. If the universe wants to keep us confined to this prison cell, that’s all right by me.”

“So you don’t want me to hit you again, Jer?”

“No, I don’t want you to hit me again, Brad Pitt.”

Johnny smiled at this.“Do you really think I look like Brad Pitt?”

Jerry smiled, too.“Sure, Johnny. Sure.”

For a moment, both men were silent, then Johnny said,“I’m sorry for knocking you out, Jer.”

“That’s all right, buddy. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have needled you like that.” He sighed. “I swear to God, if we ever make it out of this place I’m giving up the life of crime.”

“We’ll go to Hollywood,” said Johnny. “I’ll be Brad Pitt and you can be Leo DiCaprio.”