The Fight.

The two combatants stood opposite each other, 10 feet apart. The car park outside the pub was deserted. 11:00pm, and here they were. Driven by anger, bloodlust, beer, who knows. The challenge had been accepted, and these two men would fight.

Chris Wesley stood, and called the rules.

"First rule is: No shoes, no shirt
Second rule is: no weapons longer than 1 yard, no stabbing objects.
Simple? good."

Chris and Clarke. 10 feet apart, ready to fight. Chris with a wooden baseball bat, Clarke with a left handed seven iron. spraypainted orange.

Chris moved first, lunging at Clarke and swinging the bat as hard as possible at Clarke's head.

"OW! FUCK!"
"Of all the f*cking places you could have hit me....."
"Take this B*tch"
Clarke swung the orange club straight into the side of Chris's torso, making a heavy thud.

Clarke and Chris were surrounded by an 80 foot high steel and concrete fence that nobody could get over or through. They were alone, until the bitter end of this war.

<font color="#f7f7f7" size="1">[ July 26, 2003 07:37 AM: Message edited by: Clarke Anderson ]</font>

CRACK. The club smacked into chris's ribs, breaking at least two of them and causing considerable pain. reeling to the side from the shock of the hit, chris failed to realise he was now bleeding steadily, and proceeded to aim another swing at chris's kneecap.

Clarke jumped up to avoid the bat, but insted took the full force of the blow straight to the ankles. Clarke fell to the ground, jolts of pain shooting through his feet. Clarke threw the club straight at Chris's face, heavy bit first. "This is gonna hurt that f*cker" Clarke thought

Chris was far too slow to dodge the bat to the face, and took the heavy part right in the nose. there was a sickening crunch as the bat hit his face, and blood jetted out at the point of impact.

Chris grabbed the club and threw it as hard as he could. It flew through the air, smashing through the window of a familiar looking White V-Spec Skyline. "Oops".

Now was not the time to worry about a car though. He took his bat in both hands, and aimed another swing at Clarke, going right for the balls, and hitting home.

Clarke, not dumb by any means, was lucky to be wearing a kevlar 'athletic supporter.' However, the force of the blow managed to crack Clarke's pelvis, and he slumped to the ground in agony. Clarke's hand gripped around a large, heavy object on the ground, and he threw the object straight at Chris' head. Clarke gasped when he saw that the object he just threw was an XBox controller. He hoped that the impact with Chris's skull would not kill the poor man.

Clarke just thought he may remind himself that he was surrounded by an unpenetrable wall that <u>nobody</u> could scale. Chris and Clarke were on their own

<font color="#f7f7f7" size="1">[ July 26, 2003 07:44 AM: Message edited by: Clarke Anderson ]</font>

Across the road from the pub, looking out from one of the higher windows of the skyrise apartment blocks, a restless Star found herself watching the scene as it progressed before her.

Curiosity getting the better of her as she found her mind wondering why these two guys had taken to fighting.. what was it all about?-was it just a drunken brawl or something more sinister?...why had no-one else noticed these two? for surely the pub would be emptying around now...it was beyond 11pm after all!!

Still she remained where she was and contemplated her next step...

Frost stood on top of a building, outside the "IMPENETRABLE FENCE".
He realised it would be a simple task for him to simply fly over the fence, but he'd rather watch. This was funny. He was glad he'd tossed the xbox controller in there, and he wondered when they'd find the rest of the rejected machine.

Frost smiled quietly to himself.

He noticed another observer watching the battle with interest, and decided to join her.
Frost leapt into the air and dropped down next to her, his arms folded in silence.

Seathia Sat on the top of the high building.
He was stuffed there was a lot of stairs in a sky scrapper he sat on the edge watching the two fighters he started to think about all the money he had been spending from pak n save But then the checkout bitch were worth the $11.90 he stole from a old man

Chris moved back to avoid the XBuilding controller to the face, but it ended up landing on his foot, crushing it. Chris screamed in pain. He attempted to pick it up, but it was stuck in the concrete. He pulled out his machete, and cut off his foot in one swipe. Using a potion of healing, he healed the stump over, then threw the empty potion bottle at Clarke. Hard.

Clarke yelled in pain as the splinters of the bottle embedded themselves in his skin. "Fu*k man, I'm sorry I just tried to kill you with that large black cruse missile. Perhaps you want a free hit for that?"

Chris looked around for a new weapon, and found exactly what he wanted. Right next to his foot as well. Ah, the glory of free form RPGs.

The weapon was, of course, a large mallet. Chris picked it up, looked at it, looked back at Clarke, and lunged.

"You revealed your character! Your punishment- Being hit on the head with a rubber mallet for the rest of your life! Prepare to die, Clarke Anderson!"