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The worlds of professional wrestling and contemporary fiction aren’t so far apart. Our writer immerses himself in the Total Nonstop Action Wrestling Federation, to the point of being flung across the ring.
If you happen to leave early from a show at the Philharmonic, be prepared to be asked for your ticket. No, not by an usher, but by a young would-be concert goer who’ll either take your seat or talk trash behind your back.