Author's Note: See how you like this. Damian goes over to Amber's house where he is initiated into her family by an impromptu wrestling tournament in the backyard. Damian Wayne versus the Gilts! Who will emerge champion? Enjoy.

Peer Pressure

When Amber Gilt suggested I meet with her at her home in West Gotham, I was wary. It seemed to suggest I would be forced into making her parents' acquaintance and that of her brothers. She told me over the phone that none of them bite, as if I harboured such offensive views on the middle class. So I agreed, despite my hatred of small talk and idle chatter. Alfred dropped me off at midday, some two days after the incident in the cave. I instructed him to return at four. Then he left me alone with…normal people, a loose term at best considering my introduction to them.

As I was about to knock on the front door, an imitation colonial design with peeling paint, the girl greeted me from the side of the house. For reasons I could not begin to fathom, she was dressed in nothing but a bra and some very revealing shorts. She dragged me around the side of the house and into her large backyard where four boys in nothing but their underwear appeared lined up to meet me. For almost a minute I was convinced I had either ingested some hallucinogenic substance at breakfast or was dreaming the whole situation. Now she's talking at me and I have yet to hear a single word.

"I thought I was having lunch with your family." I say to interrupt her rhetoric. She frowns at me.

"Haven't you heard a word I've been saying?"

"I was distracted by the fact everybody is largely unclothed. Are you in the midst of some pagan ritual?"

"We're playing WWE, dumbass." One of the boys says abruptly. He appears to be my age and is quite well-built. I have no frame of reference for that acronym. I look at Amber and frown.

"What is WWE?"

"You're eleven and you've never heard of WWE?" Another boy asks in incredulity of my apparent ignorance of their customs. He is stood to the far left and looks to be an identical twin to the previous boy. I look back at the girl for some kind of guidance for their hostility. She smiles sympathetically.

"It's wrestling, Damian. Y'know, the kind they do in a ring but it's all scripted and over-the-top?" I may have vaguely stumbled across such an absurd concept as fake combat when scanning through the satellite television once. The combatants were both too large and too slow to make their choreography believable. I pitied them and their humiliating outfits, a pair of child's speedos and boots. I nod my head in understanding.

"Do you have a ring for your…bouts?" I inquire turning to the four boys. The smallest and youngest of them, somewhere around nine but none too shy, nods before rushing forward and taking me by the hand.

"Yeah! Come see!"

I am led to an inflated ring that looks to be constructed out of rubber and tough durable plastic. It is being fed a constant supply of air by a mechanical unit connected at the base. The outside area around the ring is heavily matted and curiously has an array of objects strewn around it, including folded chairs, baseball bats and what appears to be some kind of championship belt. I frown at the soft nature of the structure and contrast it with the dangerous implements. The youngest boy proceeds to wriggle through the imitation ropes before bouncing up and down in the centre of the ring. His expression suggests he is having fun.

"Don't bounce too high, Mattie!" The girl calls from my side. This only seems to encourage him as he propels himself higher, giggling now. A split second later he has lost control and is heading out the ring. I catch him in my arms handily after taking one long stride to his location. The boy frowns at me.

"How'd you do that?" He asks as I set him on the ground.

"I have done such things many times before." I inform him as his brothers close ranks on me. They all look impressed. The oldest of them, somewhere around fourteen nods at me.

"Amber said you were different than the other rich boys. You probably just saved this idiot another round of stitches." He says playfully shaking Mattie by his shoulders. Mattie giggles and nods in agreement. "I've got a lot of stitches."

I listen this time as I am introduced to them. The oldest is Kyle, the youngest is Matthew, or Mattie, and the twins are Ralph and Jack. They all have dark brown hair and the same green eyes as Amber. Judging from their tanned skin and general athletic condition of their bodies, they spend a lot of time outdoors engaged in some physical activity or other. I am told Ralph is distinguishable from Jack by the appendix scar on his stomach. By this logic, Ralph is the one who called me a dumbass. Amber informs me lunch will not be served for at least another hour. Until then, I am to participate in their ultimate tournament for the Gilt Heavyweight Championship of the World. I do not know whether this is an honour or not.

"So, just to clarify Damian, this is NOT a real fight." The girl tells me sternly. "Don't hurt any of my brothers. Just have fun. Like that." She points to a bout between Ralph and Jack. The two boys are tackling each other inside the ring, pretending to hit each other with punches and kicks before performing suplexes and attempting to pin one another. Kyle counts to two before they inevitably stage a recovery. Somehow, I find this more engaging than the television. The participants are quite skilled even for adults. "If they hit you with their finisher," Amber continues as Jack is placed in a headlock and drilled into the floor of the ring, "like that, you're allowed to kick out but you have to act groggy afterwards. If they hit you with it twice, you have to let them pin you." I watch in fascination as Jack kicks out but proceeds to stumble around the ring akin to a wino.

Ralph drills him into the floor again and again covers him for a pin. This time, Kyle counts to three. Mattie imitates a bell and Ralph raises his arms in the air. He scales one of the turnbuckles and points at me. "I want you, Damian! I want to fight you!" Even my father does not wish to spar with me in the cave. It is a novelty to be sought for a contest. I look at Amber who smiles.

"Ralph's the number one contender for Kyle's title. If you beat him, you can go into the title match."

"I thought this was a tournament."

"It is. Right now, Ralph's in the semi-finals. Kyle going to fight Mattie and then Jack'll fight the loser of that match for a chance to reach the semi-finals. You know who that leaves to fight for the privilege of facing Ralph in the semis?" I have deduced the identities of the final pair of combatants. My humiliation in the cave comes flooding back as I speak.

"I am to fight you for a chance at your brother?"

"That's right. And I won't go easy on you either. Before Kyle got his growth spurt, I was the champion for a few months." I am told with understandable pride at the accolade. For a woman to best a family of men is a notable achievement. I glance at my still fully-clothed body.

"Am I to-"

"Strip to your skivvies? Hell yes. If I can do, you definitely can."

My choice of undergarment is met with looks of surprise. "You still wear briefs?" Jack says bending down to scrutinize my black underwear. I was not aware such trivialities were matters of contention amongst my peers. I frown at them.

"Is this incorrect?" I ask having noticed all four boys are wearing woven boxer shorts. Kyle shakes his head.

"Nah, it's just sometimes guys find they need more room down there when things start grow-"

"That's enough of that, Kyle!" Amber says in obvious disgust of the direction of conversation, "Remember there's a lady present!" Kyle raises his hands in apology. We head for the ring. As Amber bends over to step through the ropes, I find myself swallowing hard. "Want some advice?" Kyle asks close to my ear. I nod. "Don't get a boner. She really wouldn't like that." I glare at him but only get an amused smile in return. "I'm just kidding. It'll be fine. Go on."

I climb through the ropes and hear Mattie make the sound of a bell being rung. This, I am told, signals the beginning of the contest. I am acutely aware that all of her brothers are watching me closely from the side. I can feel their eyes burning into me. No doubt they are waiting for something embarrassing to befall me. Having watched the previous bout, I am aware of what is expected. I charge forward and pull my punches two inches from her face. After delivering ten or so, I perform a suplex, holding her up in the air for almost five seconds before dropping backwards. We bounce around for a minute, trying to gain our footing on the uneven surface. For the first time I can remember, I am too slow. She pretends to punch me first and I must feign connection. After twenty pulled punches, she instructs me to fall backwards, which I do. Then she mounts me at the waist.

As she wrangles me into a headlock, her breasts press against the bare skin of my chest and then almost my actual face as she adjusts her arm position. I feel a clock spring of pressure invade my groin. To counter it from becoming another fully-blown incident, I aggressively grab hold of her legs and power my way to my feet. I hear her gasp at the display before I jump forward and slam her onto the floor. She willingly lets go and lies flat on her back.

"Climb the turnbuckle!" I hear Ralph shout from the sidelines. I do not know what the purpose of this gesture is, but I do so.

"Do a moonsault!" Mattie yells. I have no idea what such a manoeuvre is or how it is achieved. When this becomes obvious to him, he enlists Kyle to demonstrate the movement. Kyle flips him over backwards from a standing position before bringing him to rest on his stomach. Mattie checks I understand. I nod. A backwards flip to some manner of splash. It is a simple enough movement. I perform it seamlessly, ensuring I do not land directly on her but over her. She feigns pain by stiffening up. I look at her siblings for further direction. They look like goldfish and I am unsure why they are so in awe.

"Cover me." Amber whispers from underneath. "I'm not getting up after that." I do so and hear Kyle count to three and Mattie once more imitate his bell. I have emerged victorious in my first fake fight. It is an oddly satisfying feeling. The pressure in my groin has disappeared as well. There will be no repeat of the cave. I am relieved. I look down at the girl.

"Was that okay?" I inquire. She nods.

"Normally they cheer after a fight. I think it's probably because none of them have ever successfully performed a moonsault. The last time Kyle tried, he bounced right out the other side of the ring."

"So, that was good?"

"It was freaking incredible. But I guess with a body like yours, it's pretty average stuff."

The hour passes quickly. Kyle defeats Mattie but allows him to execute some movements that help prolong the fight past three minutes. Jack then beats Mattie in the loser's match after applying a very good submission hold on his sibling's ankle. Mattie taps out. Now it is apparently my turn to face Ralph in the semi-finals. We grapple on the floor for almost three minutes where I find him to be stronger and more determined than I first anticipated. Still, I am holding back to prevent injuring him. He lands the first series of fake punches and kicks before picking me up with some difficulty and slamming me on the ground. Instead of going for the pin position, he scales a turnbuckle. When he flies off with a big elbow I believe intended for my stomach, I roll out of the way at the last moment. I catch him on the bounce and execute what I know to be his finishing move, drilling him into the floor. An attempted cover is kicked out of. I find I am enjoying myself.

Ralph acts groggy as the rules dictate and I go to execute the manoeuvre again. As I have him in a headlock, he manages to counter by flipping both of us backwards across the ring. We both lie on the floor, convalescing from our perceived efforts before Ralph attempts to cover me. I kick out after one. I then roll him over and lock on an arm bar technique taught to me by Father. However, instead of properly applying pressure, I only offer the slightest twinge of discomfort for him to experience. Ralph hams his role as the oppressed, contorting his face into that of unimaginable pain whilst trying to drag us both to the ropes only a foot away. I am reliably informed that a 'rope break' means I must cease my submission attempt. I let him struggle for almost three minutes before easily yanking him back to the centre and applying noticeable pressure. He taps and Mattie rings his imaginary bell.

"You know what?" Ralph says as he lies on the floor of the ring sucking in air. I lie next to him.

"What?"

"For a dumbass who's never seen WWE, you put on a good show." He informs me with a big smile. I am impressed with his humility. I expected him to be more aggrieved by my victory over him, but like all his siblings he just seems to relish the activity rather than the outcome. I smile back.

"You are a decent showman too…dumbass" I offer. He nods in agreement whilst putting his arms behind his head.

"Yes I am."

I am now in the final. This time, I am joined in the ring by Amber who has put on a striped shirt I understand symbolizes her authority as a referee for the contest. Kyle has Mattie hold his championship belt on the sidelines. Jack and Ralph have gathered up the pile of chairs and baseball bats and stand ready to seemingly throw them into the ring. I am informed by our female referee that this match is an Extreme Rules match. This apparently means weapons are permitted…so long as they are made of foam as I am told both the chairs and bats are. If I get hit by a chair three times in the back of the head, I lose. In real life, I would probably die, but no matter. Mattie rings his bell and Kyle hoists me clean off the ground.

He proceeds to shoulder-press me several times before dropping me to the ground on my stomach. He then calls for a chair. As I am clambering to my feet, he smacks me on the back of my head with the foam chair. I go down. He hits me again. Enough. I roll out of the way and snatch the chair clean out his hands. Before he can react, I clock him in the face with it. He drops to the floor in dramatic fashion. He gets up and I feign driving it into his stomach. He lurches forward as if in pain. I throw the chair aside and proceed to shoulder-press him. I carefully complete a full turn of the ring with Kyle precariously above my head then slam him onto the floor. I elect to try a moonsault to finish proceedings and scale the turnbuckle. As I do so, both Ralph and Jack charge into the ring, followed closely by Mattie.

Between the three of them, they try to drag me off the turnbuckle. Confused by his unsportsmanlike behavior, I hold on to the buckle and thwart their attempts until Amber joins them. After being unceremoniously prised off, the four of them force me to the floor and each hold one of my limbs while Kyle covers me. Although I manage to get Mattie off my right leg, I cannot gain sufficient momentum to escape my predicament. All of them count to three simultaneously. Mattie makes his usual noise and Kyle is declared to still be the champion. I find I am not angry, but completely bemused by the recent chain of events.

"Extreme Rules always means no disqualification in our yard. That means we can do whatever we want." Amber explains as I sit in the centre of the ring surrounded by her and her brothers. I frown.

"To what purpose?"

"So one of us stays champion. We can't have someone not called Gilt holding the Gilt Heavyweight Championship. It just wouldn't be right." She says with a mischievous smile, "no hard feelings, Damian?"

"I probably should be incensed by your trickery." I announce to them as a collective, "but I can admit to having fun. Thank you for including me in your…WWE games."

"I can't believe Kyle got pressed by an eleven-year-old." Jack says shaking his head. "He weighs like a thousand pounds." Kyle claps him lightly round the back of the head.

"Not a thousand, Jackie. More like two thousand." The oldest Gilt corrects him before clapping me on the back. "Seriously though, that was crazy impressive stuff. You could be a professional with that kind of power."

"Yeah and I could be your professional valet." Amber offers. It is a tempting offer, but I do not think I am interested in pursuing this as a career when my father's mantle is only an adolescence away. Still, I would like to do this again. I am about to voice such sentiments aloud when we are called in for lunch. I am eager for more 'fun' as I join them in getting to my feet.