On the day of the fight, Charlie Jingle corralled the Tanker in the workshop and ordered the amazed Tanker to lie down on the work-bench for a "tune up". The Tanker protested.
"You crazy, Charlie? Whuffor? I never felt so good in my life!"
"Don't gimme any arguments, Tank. Stretch out and shuddup."
"But Charlie...."
"Stretch out, for God's sake!"
"What you gonna do?"
"Re-vamp you. I'm gonna run the tapes on the bout with the Contender, and stuff your memory banks with tapes on every fight was ever had with a Pugs, Inc. product. Then I'm gonna run tapes on Hammerhead Johnny. I'm gonna key up your reflex-pattern to the point where you'll be operating so fast your joints are liable to break down in the ring."
Tanker stared at him, open-mouthed. "What for? Will you please tell me that? What for?"
"After I've fed you the tapes on the Contender and Hammerhead, you'll know, if those goddam memory-computers of yours ain't so rusty they can still work."