The day of reckoning had finally come. The wait was over.
The thrill of conflict was in the air. It was a brisk, chill morning and the cool breeze was crisp and refreshing. Tensions were running high in the fighter’s lodgings. The grand tournament was set to begin at last. Everything had culminated to this moment. The 6 fighters made their way to the ring at 6am sharp to prepare for the first fight – scheduled for 8 am. Four would fight this day, and two the day after.
Vinnie Balboa was cursing his luck and muttering obscenities about that angry bastard Habaz Valentine – for obliterating his foe before the event even began. Now he was to be the first contender. Saralax, Vinnie and Sensei Santiago were making their way down to the ring in a group from the Fighters lodgings.
Saralax was jovially chomping down on a triple quarter pounder, with a big benign smile painted on his chubby innocent face. He was without a care in the world. Practically skipping to the fighting ring. He was much like a cherub faced, fat little cupid with rosy cheeks and an innocent but lovable idiocy floating about him.
♫ “Yum yum..tum tum…” ♫he sang with a jolly tune while bouncing his head as he strode to the ring, ♫ “yum yum..tum tum.” ♫
The Cat Sage was anxiously stroking Missy. He wasn’t accustomed to being around so many people at any one time. His anxiety was playing up. Poor Missy was on the receiving end of Sensei Santiago’s stress. She hissed at her tensed up underling. Santiago cowered. “No Goddess Missy…Mercy…Pleaasee!!!” shrieked the powerful but dishevelled looking Hermit. Missy calmed down.
His back still ached from his atonement scratches from Missy the night before. Much like the ancient Christians whipping themselves to atone for their sins, the Cat Sage gave free reign of his back to Missy’s sharp claws when he thought he deserved to be punished for some self-concocted crime.
Finally they arrived at the grand arena. A huge colosseum which seated thousands was surrounding one boxing styled ring. It was half full with more than an hour before the first fight was set to commence. Regardless for his spoilt nature and doughy physique – Vinnie had to admit that Shabz could throw one hell of a spectacle.
The preparation rooms for the fighters were basic but provided what one needed. Vinnie was lost in his own mind. The hour leading up to the fight felt like seconds. Pure concentration went through him. The time had come for each fighter to walk up to the stage.
He could here Michael Jackson playing, and knew it to be Adusius’s entrance song. Vinnie had not been offered to slect his own. Strange he thought to himself.
♫ “’Cause this is thriller, thriller night
And no one’s gonna save you from the beast about to strike
You know it’s thriller, thriller night
You’re fighting for your life inside a killer, thriller tonight” ♫
As Vinnie made his way down the walkway, sparring against the air and mentally focussing, he heard it. His walkway song was “Pretty Woman” by Roy Orbison. The lyrics drove Vinnie into a furious bloodlust.
“ADRIAN!!!!” He screamed, nonsensically and out of context.
♫ “Pretty woman, walking down the street
Pretty woman, the kind I like to meet…” ♫
This was that dastardly Black bird’s doing. Vinnie knew it. He was enraged. He picked up the pace to the ring ready to knock some sense into that black, bumbling buffoon and end this insulting song. Both fighters stood toe to toe in the ring. The environment was electric and wrapped with anticipation. The referee stepped up and began to speak.
“You lose the fight if you are knocked out and I count to 10, you give up, you cry or…” the referee paused for effect before continuing on, “if you die… Fighters to your corners!”.
*Ding Ding* – Fight 1 – Round 1
Vinnie was going to end this now! He swung wildly and carelessly. Adusius sniggered as he danced poetically around each hook. Every time he had a moment, he would slap Vinnie on the face with his white-gloved hand.
It sent Vinnie into a deeper, darker frenzy. The Cat sage and Saralax were ring-side in Vinnie’s corner, egging him on (possibly – all Vinnie could hear was “Gobba’” and “Shima”). The first round was just a testing ground for the Black Bird. He wanted to see how careless and easy to provoke his opponent was. How sloppy his fighting technique could become. He smiled at his success.
*Ding* – the round had ended without Vinnie landing a single punch, and getting glove slapped too many times.
Round two was almost an imitation of the first. It took til the third round for Vinnie to land a hit and cut Adusius’s lip. The effect was still minimal and Adusius laughed it off. Blind rage Vs. Cunning. The result could only go one way if things played out this way – and Vinnie knew it.
The crowd was alive, the battle furious. Each round started to get more difficult for Vinnie and Adusius kept singing, taunting and showboating. At the end of five rounds, it looked like Vinnie had been through hell itself. He was sweaty, bruised and battered. Adusius had a few minor cuts and scrapes. Before the sixth round, the Sensei decided to provide some words of wisdom.
“Vinnie…Dezza dammit! Believe in Missy. Feek!,” said Santiago animatedly, “Praise be to Shima!!!”
Vinnie stood there baffled. What the hell did Sensei Santiago just say. Did it make sense?!
“Err…yea…Sensei” muttered Vinnie.
Round 6 – *Ding Ding*
Vinnie’s arms were heavy. His legs were like logs. He was running on rage and fumes alone. Adusius was merry in his approach.
Vinnie remembered all the training. All the suffering. The pain and humiliation. Prison. He channelled the inner rage from deep within. Garas…Prasadh! He couldn’t lose…HE WOULDN’T LOSE!!!
Something had clicked. The true fight was only just beginning. Vinnie pounced like a cat, agile and nimble. His fighting form had changed. He had released Feline Fu!
Adusius could no longer read his movements. He was getting scratched, slashed and put off balance before each strike. Each strike was drastically more vehement and critical now.
It was a warzone. Who wanted it more. The battle had evened up at last as Feline Fu competed against Dance-fighting.
The round ended with two beaten down warriors. Neither was in a jovial mood now. It was an all-out war and the crowd loved it.
*Ding*
Round 7 – *Ding Ding*
They were both weary. Vinnie was getting desperate. The poetic dancer had his rhythms in perfect motion. It was poetry in motion. With each round, Vinnie grew tired while the black bird mostly strong. His stamina seemed infinite. It was time…
He may not have been as good a student as Saralax, but his incomplete variation should give him the edge. Vinnie took a knee, tensed his right hand into a claw like state and buried his nails into the floor…He needed a few seconds, fortunately Adusius was busy dancing as the crowd cheered.
“Feline…mode!” – His muscles tightened, his pulse quickened and the world around him was moving at half speed. It was now or never…
Vinnie was fast. Too fast. Adusius was still dancing around the blows, but only barely. He could no longer sing. He was working up a sweat, and every so often he was getting hit…and savagely. He attempted to retaliate but Feline Fu and this sudden increase in speed and strength was too much. He was completely outclassed. All he could do was try to defend himself with no success.
Vinnie was burning out quickly. His stamina was already low. His form was imperfect and unsustainable. He had maybe 12-15 seconds to finish this. The second secret move he had learnt…or Vinnie’s weaker variation of it really. It was time, for the Legendary Shimabow.
He pushed himself deep into the corner ropes of the ring and took careful aim. He then launched himself like an arrow from a bow at the dancing menace at rocket speed and used the final seconds of his weaker variation of Feline Mode to empower his attack.
“SHIMABOW!!!” he roared head-butting Adusius directly in the gut. Both fell like a heap into the ground, one from recoil and the other from a sever winding. Vinnie rose quickly and looked on as the referee began to count.
1…
2….
3…..
4…..
5…
6
Adusius rose. No…thought Vinnie to himself. He had nothing left. This couldn’t be!
…
…
…
Suddenly, he broke down. Adusius started to cry. He was bawling like a little child whose toy had been broken, tears falling like a waterfall from the oversized dancer.
The referee stepped in at this point.
“Adusius Bandarias has started to cry! He is disqualified!
Winner of the first Fight…. VINNIE BALBOA !!!”
Vinnie collapsed in relief and exhaustion – The Victor.
~
The Second fight followed soon after the first. All the cordial pre-fight rituals ran similarly and the two fighters stood toe to toe. Saralax Vs. Garas. Vinnie had warned Saralax not to underestimate the man. Known among some circles as Garas the Twenty Three. For what reason, was anyone’s guess.
*Ding Ding* –Fight 2 – Round 1
Saralax stood tall and large in the ring. Mostly large. It seemed like his body covered a third of the ring on pure girth alone. The Covenant of Cheese, his loyal supporters, were praying to the great and generous clown god – Ronald McDonald for good fortune this day.
Garas was circling Saralax and jabbing tactically, before ducking back into a safe distance. This continued for a whole minute. Garas was tentative facing a man with an unprecedented reputation. Saralax seemed un-phased – if anything, distracted. The Current Champion was standing by Shabz ringside like a hypnotized corpse staring blankly at the ring. It caught Saralax’s attention for some reason. “Gobba’?!” he whispered to himself. It was as though he was looking into a distant past he had long since forgotten. Garas snapped Saralax back into the moment.
“Time for my twenty three punch combo” muttered Garas, a cunning grin painted on his face, as though he had been dominating the whole fight. 2 and a half minutes of the first 3 minute round had elapsed without Saralax having moved an inch or even noticed he was in the middle of a fight. He had taken each blow as if being prodded by an infant. Vinnie was awestruck by how resistant his gigantic companion was to physical attacks. Saralax shifted his attention to Garas. A deep hunger appeared in his eyes.
As Garas dove in for his special combo, Saralax slowly lifted his right hand to his left ear. With an open palm, he then swung his arm sideways with intense force – Back-hand slapping Garas several metres out of the ring. Garas was left twitching semi-conscious on the floor by the ringside spectators – encompassed in a pool of his own making. It was a flawless victory. Saralax stepped out of the ring, and placed two cheeseburger patties on the unconscious warrior’s eyes. This one was unworthy of becoming a Leelz…thought Saralax to himself.
The Referee got to his 10 count, though purely as a technicality, before announcing the victor. It was obvious to everyone that this was a complete mismatch.
The crowd was roaring. As quickly as the fight had ended, the crowd were entertained. The myth of the great champion Saralax was materializing from fiction into fact in front of the audience’s very eyes. It was most humbling.
The last battle would be fought early the next day – but for now it was time to celebrate. Both Vinnie and Saralax went hunting for some beer and burgers.
The night was a celebration.
Prasadh Angada had not been present at the fight. He had been in his room the entire day, clearing his mind of all thought. Deep in meditation – his mind blank and in a vegetative state. He stared out the window to see the rain picking up. The ring would be wet tomorrow.
“Heahhh…” he muttered to himself quietly, before going to bed at 9.30pm sharp.
~
In the dim, quiet of night – those on the island were fast asleep. The audience as well as the fighters themselves were all tuckered out – exhausted from the first 2 fights of round 1. Two men, however, were sitting in a dark room hidden deep underneath the fighting ring whispering and conspiring.
“He is too strong…”whispered one man.
“What?! You don’t think your vile beast can take him?” Mocked the other in response.
“Silence fool! We will need to weaken him when the time comes…” whispered the first man, “We can’t take any chances. I have a lot of money invested in this.”
The second man laughed maliciously.
“Your greed is the least of my concerns, you bastard” chided the second man, before then turning around and exiting the room.
The first man stood seething. He did not expect the two of them to end up so close in strength. Not since the separation. He adjusted his perfectly round spectacles, as ideas began to take shape in his mind. Devious plans were going to come into motion. A smug grin was etched on his face.