“Chupy, be a dear and whip up one of those protein and placenta smoothies for me before you go,” Bella said. “Sure thing,” the trainer said. “Hang on. Your name is what?” Nick asked. “Chupacabra Jones,” she said, pointing to the name tag clipped to her tank top. “I’m a mixed martial artist. It’s my fighting name.” Nick nodded and rubbed a hand over his stubbly chin. “Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Please allow me to confer with my colleague,” he said before leaning in to Riley. “If we have kids someday, I think we should name one Chupacabra.”
