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The Fight
One time, back in George Takei's boxing days, he had booked a fight against the Killer of the Tri-state Coast, a real big, tough, mean piece of work. The odds were long, because this fellow looked like he could murder a milk truck, he was that big, and hard, too: built and knotted like an old oak. We all begged George not to fight him, but you know, George had his pride; even if the restaurant weren't riding on it, I don't think he could've walked away. He was just too proud. Too damn proud.
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