It was the annual Lawnmower Rumble at Marty’s Discount Lawn Care and Snack Shack, a local backyard wrestling event held in the parking lot of Marty’s business. The crowd was small but enthusiastic, mostly consisting of the usual suspects: a few lawnmower enthusiasts, some kids, and Marty himself, who was busy selling "Lawnmower Nachos" from his snack stand. Mike "The Brawn from the Lawn" Bielski was getting ready for his big match against "Beefcake Barry", a man so muscular it looked like he had skipped leg day for about 20 years. Mike had been hyping himself up all day, flexing in front of the cracked mirror in the dressing room while listening to his entrance music: an intense blend of rock and lawnmower noises. “This is my moment,” Mike said, slapping his biceps. “I’m gonna mow down the competition!” As he stepped into the ring, he heard the crowd cheer. But just as he was about to start his victory lap, the lights flickered. The crowd fell silent. Mike squinted in confusion. Then, like a whiff of mystery and glitter, a strange tune started playing—a soft, hypnotic whistle that sounded like it came from a distant ocean. “What the heck?” Mike mumbled, trying to ignore the sea breeze that seemed to blow through the parking lot. From the shadows, Marissa "The Siren" Smith emerged, wearing a sparkly teal bodysuit and carrying a giant inflatable flamingo. She twirled into the ring, her feet barely touching the ground, as her foam anchor swung dramatically overhead. “I’ve come to steal your spotlight, Brawn!” Marissa announced, striking a dramatic pose. Mike froze. Who was this? “Excuse me, I’m trying to fight Beefcake Barry! Not a beach-themed wrestler!” Mike stammered. But before Mike could even catch his breath, Marissa dashed toward him like a whirlpool, sliding under his legs and locking him in a headlock. “Gotcha!” she giggled. Mike grunted, trying to break free. “What kind of move is that?” “It’s called the ‘Siren’s Squeeze.’” Marissa laughed, tightening her grip. With one powerful motion, Mike used his strength to flip her over his shoulder, sending her flying into the ropes. “You’re good! But I’ve got the power!” Mike shouted, ready to hit his signature move: the Lawnmower Slam. But just as he lunged, Beefcake Barry charged into the ring with a sledgehammer (which he may or may not have stolen from the concession stand). Marissa, ever the quick thinker, grabbed her foam anchor and swung it like a weapon, knocking Barry’s sledgehammer out of his hands with a perfect spin. “Nice try, Big Beef, but you’re out of here!” Marissa taunted, before sending Barry flying out of the ring with a spin-kick. The crowd went wild. Barry landed face-first in a puddle of nacho cheese at the snack stand. Marty screamed, “My nachos!” Mike stood there, staring at Marissa in disbelief. “That was awesome. You just took down Beefcake Barry with a foam anchor!” Marissa smiled, flashing a wink. “You’re not so bad yourself, Brawn. You’ve got strength, but I’ve got style.” Mike rubbed his head. “Well, I guess we make a good team.” From that day on, Mike and Marissa became the most unlikely tag team in backyard wrestling, known for their chaotic moves and ridiculous entrances. Marissa’s Siren’s Squeeze paired perfectly with Mike’s Lawnmower Slam, and together, they left a trail of confused opponents and spilled nachos in their wake. And whenever they entered the ring, the crowd knew one thing for sure: the Brawn and the Siren would always steal the show—and probably some nachos, too. We're just kidding. We actually met at the lights on 34th street but this sounded more fun.