"The play contest," I explained, and she made the connection."You were the devil," I accused the girl.Marsha smiled. "Most of my teachers didn't think...playing the devil was much of a stretch. I'm surprised you recognized me, with all that make-up?"I smiled. "You were excellent. I've watched the DVD twice." About a week after the banquet, we got a package from the foundation with six DVDs. One for each of the finalist plays. None of them had copyright warnings, so I used my computer to make. A punching bag as she made her work out. The plastic tube being sort of stiff, did not really provide my protection as she practiced her kicks. Inside, shivering, sweating, and pretty soon whining, I tried to keep quiet. Not knowing when the next one would come, made them all the more painful. Hanging up side down, caused my head to get dizzy. All the blood wanting to be at one place. Her kicks, hitting my ribs, increasingly painful. Somewhere, I passed out again. From the pain, or from hanging. More

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