"Oh, uh, it's no problem," replied Kingsley with a good-natured smile on his face that some might misconstrue as some sort of dark hunger, "Any good chef knows a proper Heimlich in and out. It's one of the fundamentals, even though it's not about cooking. I wasn't even allowed to handle a knife until I could prove to execute a perfect Heimlich."

Kingsley looked around the boxing club. Aside from the terrified and/or awed faces of some of the crowd, it seemed like a nice place.

"I heard a lot of commotion from over in the Home Ec room. I mean, more commotion than normal. I'm used to the words of your announcer, which can cut clean through steel only to knock on one's ears gently and offer a freshly-baked muffin. But these ear-bursting declarations filled with [b]spicy passion[/b] and the sort of purity that make salt look like the scum accumulating on the top of a boiling soup are new. I had to see for myself what all this was about."

Kingsley looked to the luchador, who he had assumed was the source of the commotion.

"This is truly an odd boxing club. Interesting, but odd."