Sammy was a small man with a big heart. Samantha was a big woman with no heart at all. Perhaps it was stolen from her, or perhaps she had been born without one. Most likely, she had removed it herself so as to become better at her job. Regardless, it was abundantly clear that it was long gone.
The two of them met at a cage match in South City. He wore a threadbare suit, and she had squeezed herself into something red. She was in the cage, clobbering someone named "Spitfire," and he was in the audience, halfway through a wince, clutching a bag of popcorn.
Across the auditorium, their eyes met. They both felt an instant pang inside. Was it love? Lust? Genetic predisposition? They didn't know. They couldn't even guess. But instantly they both felt the distance between them in a way they had never perceived physical space before: hereafter, no matter how close they could become, they would always feel too far apart.
When the moment ended, it was a jolt for both of them. Samantha was kicked in the head and then placed in an over-the-shoulder arm lock. Sammy spilled his popcorn.
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