One week later.CamdenHitting the bag I display I don't have cage rust, and can still fight. My new coach watches pensively, his eyes narrowed with focus. His name is Les and he's fifty-three years old, and a retired MMA fighter. He's strict, but has a lot of respect for the sport. "You definitely have a strong hit, Camden. Let's see what you have when it comes to grappling." Les points at a man standing outside the ring. "Camden, this is Franklin, he's going to be your own living breathing punching bag."Franklin is the same height as me, looks to be the same age. Only difference is he has a bleach blond pretty boy haircut, and an eagle tattooed on his chest. He'll be a good sparring buddy, but he's not Pinky. I should refer Pinky here, he'd have a much better outcome and he could be my personal sparring partner.Until then, this guy will have to do.Franklin tries to grab me and I turn on my feet putting him into a choke hold. He's not very quick, and doesn't seem very