Battle Royal

I was visiting with the Good Judge yesterday. We’d finished our business at the drugstore and were leaning against his car catching up on the latest when Georgia Hathcock and Sue Ellen Binder wheeled in and parked on both sides of us.

The Judge raised his eyebrows at me and grinned at me. “Stop it,” I said. “Don’t you go making matters worse, you old instigator.”

I didn’t know the Judge knew about the Battle Royal, but I wasn’t surprised. Most everyone knows how Sue Ellen and Georgia feel about each other.

The women neared my car about the same time and the four of us did the customary “Hello, how are you, just fine, and you” thing. It was a slightly uncomfortable moment, but at least it didn’t last long. Both of them continued towards the door. I was trying to remember what the Judge and I had been talking about, but I noticed he was watching their backs instead. Just as soon as the door closed on ‘em, he turned back towards me.

“Hey, Shellie, what do you say we go back in and watch the fireworks?”
“You mean between Sue Ellen and Georgia? I think they’re okay. They spoke to
each other. Didn’t you hear ‘em?

“Yeah, I heard ‘em,” Judge Allen said. “But you know what I’m reminded of every time
I see those two exchange greetings?

“What’s that?” I asked.

The judge grinned. “A pair of boxers, touching gloves.”