Is this going anywhere?
'Okay are you ready boy? you've got five minutes to draw blood. If you don't make it. You've got another five minutes to get off my property before I come after you. We touched gloves. As Charles Stanford Cutler III made his way to his corner he called out to me. 'Remember I've got the ear of the Caudillo you can easily disappear and no one would be any the wiser. Zelda if you please introduce the contestants.'
While we waited for Zelda to extricate herself from her deck chair, I took a look around. Why would a multi millionaire choose to live in a dump like this. The house was little more than a single storey shack with a one window to the right of the front door. My guess, from the size of it there were three rooms, and from what I could make out no electricity or running water. As I studied it more problems came to light. Part of the gutter had broken away from the roof and hung down at an angle touching the ground by the front door. Most of the hooped roof tiles discoloured by age and bird shit were beyond repair. I could go on, but Cutler's voice made me look round.
'Come on Zelda, it's hot out here.'
Zelda climbed the steps by the corner post pulled up the top rope and somehow managed to enter the ring in a rather elegant manner. But what surprised me was her attire. She looked like she had just walked out of Macy's front door. Her clothes were immaculate from her pristine white buttoned up tee shirt, to the bottom of the pleated over the knee cotton skirt there wasn't a speck of Spanish dust .