Adam jumped out of the crowds. He looked more like a spectator than a
fighter. He wore a pair of docs, with black jeans and a black muscle shirt.
The only sign that he was a fighter were his taped hands. He ran a hand
through his short blonde hair. His blue eyes looking over the other
warriors. He threw a few phantom punches, trying to limber himself up.
"Maybe I'll challenge that karate guy", he thought to himself as he walked
over. "Damn, someone beat me to it", he muttered as a fighter carrying a
denim jacket and smoking a cigarette called out the other fighter.
Adam looked around for someone to challenge as he was approached from
behind. He felt the tap on his shoulder and had to restrain himself from
allowing instinct to take over and punching who it was. He turned around
"I wish to challenge you", the man said. Adam looked him up and down and
"Sure, what the hell. And you are?"
"Carlos", the man replied.
"Nice to meetcha. Im Adam. Ill see you in the ring. But right now, I got to
find me a cigarette. And not an American one, I need a good old Canadian
smoke." Adam nodded to Carlos and walked away.
> -----Original Message-----
> From: Chris Krug-Iron [SMTP:inrifrost@...]
> Sent: Wednesday, November 24, 1999 8:32 AM
> To: email@example.com
> Subject: [streetfighter] Another time, another fight.
> It was always the same. Fighters and onlookers, crying out for blood,
> crying out for the fight. One dumb sonofabitch getting a little too rowdy
> for his own good; a fighter feeling a little too obligated to set him
> straight. Both being shown either the door or the arena floor. Come to
> think about it, that was how Blaise got involved in the first place...
> 'All I was trying to do was see how the fighter I bet on would turn
> is all,' he reflected to himself 'his fault that he got mouthy and decided
> to show me his fist.' An inward giggle followed.
> 'But when he saw how quickly the stars had shown up...'
> No one in the arena actually expected an onlooker to beat one of the
> fighters. Blaise had no technique, no skill, only his two fists and a
> kick to the ribs while the fighter was down. He was thoroughly versed in
> the art of brawling.
> 'My boots got a new shine that day. Oh, well, I lost the bet.'
> Blaise thought as he brightened into a grin that would make a
> proud. As he walked further away from the crowd, all yelling insults,
> cheers and so forth, he took a long drag on his cigarette, which had now
> burned itself nearly to the filter. Blaise started going through the
> in his head, preparing himself for another match. No one had challenged
> 'Gonna have to remedy that teeny little problem...'
> His warmups were rudimentary at best. A far cry from what Michelle had
> taught him. She'd be beside herself seeing the basic technique he'd been
> using. No crispness, nearly sluggish timing. What did he care? He was
> fighting a tougher battle. That damn hangover. As Blaise slipped off the
> denim jacket that had become one of his closest friends, he wondered how
> he'd even progressed as far as the Style of the Snake. It was the best
> suited to him, by far. Tiger was too crude for his liking, Dragon was
> for old men, Eagle hurt his fingers, Monkey was just plain goofy...
> There were a thousand and one ways Blaise would brush off all the other
> styles, but the fact of the matter was he was a lazy bastard.
> 'Well, enough of the laziness,' Blaise looked around himself, feeling
> little aches and pains in his muscles disappear with a renewed vigor.
> Determination was the order of the menu today. That Shotokan goon was
> getting a little too prevalent at the tournament for his liking. Hell,
> if he lost, it wasn't about winning was it?
> 'About meeting your opponent in true, actual, physical combat. Yeah,
> Michelle, I did like that when you told me that.' Lighting another
> cigarette, taking a long pull from his hip flask ('the pain'll be gone in
> matter of seconds, anyway'), he sauntered over to the edge of the crowd,
> where the Karateka in constant pain was resting after his last fight.
> "Hey, Gokiwa, or whatever your name is..."
> Was the salesman clueless? Productopia has the answers.
> -- Easily schedule meetings and events using the group calendar!
> -- http://www.egroups.com/cal?listname=streetfighter&m=1