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Someone had made a mistake.
Someone had made a terrible mistake and Gentlemen Jim Flurry was going to pay the consequences. He hitched his pink shorts up modestly so that his sky blue ribbon was above his navel and glanced nervously over at the other side of the ring. The monster stared back at him intensely. The large dinner plate eyes, those checkerboard teeth in which strings of saliva bungied to the canvas. His fists were concrete sledges that hurled like cyclones propelled by the war machine they were imprisoned to. His judderbar body rippled and bristled like a bursting water balloon. He was as primed as a dinosaurs appendage and as maniacal as a rabid dog with a knife stuck in its body.
"Don't worry Jimmy," his manager said. "Just remember, the bigger they are the harder they fall eh, eh?!" Winston 'the Weasel' Forbes spoke with a half grin spread across his face. His gold tooth shone and his eyes glinted as he puffed his large phallic cigar.
"Are,... are you sure s,..someone hasn't made a mistake Mr F..Forbes?" Jim Flurry stuttered out.
"Oh there's no mistake Jimmy," the Weasel replied. "That¡¯s definitely Tiny 'The Human Slaughterer' Behemoth glaring at you in the corner there. But look back into his eyes Jimmy, just look at the fear in them, he doesn't want to be there Jimmy."
Jim Flurry looked instead to the men who were trying to restrain Tiny 'The Human Slaughterer' Behemoth. There were five of them trying courageously to keep him from breaking the steel chains which bound him to his corner.
"Just remember Jimmy, ya score points with these." The Weasel patted one of Jimmys¡¯ small magenta gloves. "If you get in a good flurry of scoring punches, you'll win the round."
Goosebumps erupted all over Jims¡¯ feeble body and his legs started trembling. Was that urine he could smell? He looked down and saw there was no moisture on his duds.
From across the ring towels were being brought out and placed on the spot where Tiny Behemoth had both pissed and shat himself simultaneously. When you were a man of his appalling humungus stature no-one told you where to piss and where to shit, they just milled around quietly and cleaned up after you. Tinys¡¯ large frame although soiled seemed to magnify with the loss of fluids.
¡°He¡¯s all intimidation Jimmy, that¡¯s all.¡± The Weasel paused. ¡°Inside that impressive, structured frame is a small little boy who doesn¡¯t want to get hurt. He¡¯s very, very scared Jimmy.¡±
Jim Flurry had heard that the ¡®Human Slaughterer¡¯ had once devoured a small boy but he didn¡¯t think that that was what his manager was talking about.
On the other side of the ring a stretcher had been produced and one of Tinys¡¯ handlers was clutching the sides of his chest. Innards were spilling out all over the already sodden towels. From where Jimmy sat it looked as if the guy was embracing a ruptured colostomy bag.
¡°The thing touched my heart,¡± the man screamed. ¡°THAT THING TOUCHED MY HEART!!!¡±
¡°Get the sedatives quick,¡± someone else yelled. ¡°The chains won¡¯t hold him for much longer.¡±
¡°Never mind the sedatives,¡± another clamored, ¡°get me a sledgehammer and a shotgun.¡±
The man whose heart had been touched collapsed onto the stretcher while his hands worked in blind vain trying to feed his internal organs back into himself. The trainer who wanted a sledgehammer and shotgun helped another trainer cover the man with one of the used towels.
¡°Geez I¡¯d hate to be that guy,¡± the Weasel spoke matter-of-factly. ¡°Did you see the look his face when his guts spewed out. ¡®He touched ma heart, he touched ma heart!¡± the Weasel mimicked. ¡°Geez, ya gotta laugh.¡±
Gentleman Jim Flurry did not see the funny side of anything let alone feel like laughing. His manager had now taken to clutching his own sides and hooting uncontrollably.
Jimmy heard something swish through the air before connecting with a dull thud into something soft and mushy. The sledgehammer had made its way to the ring.
¡°Make doubly sure of it Craig. We wouldn¡¯t want a situation.¡± The gentle cry of a shotgun blast echoed throughout the building. The crowd furiously erupted, they could smell blood, now they wanted to see it.
Gentleman Jim looked back over at Tiny who was now trying to bite his shackled arms and screaming, ¡°GIMME SOMETHING TO MURDER, ANYTHING!!! ARRRRRRR!!!¡±
Averting a possible premonition of things to come Jim looked up. That¡¯s when he saw something dangling from the roof. It was a steel mesh cage with barbed wire slicing through its diamond holes. Another roar from the crowd as the electricity was switched on and the ring began to sparkle and glow.
¡°Nothing like the smell of burning meat huh?¡± The Weasel joked. ¡°It¡¯s like a magical cremitorium.¡±
Jim Flurry flushed a pale shade of disbelief and ¡®the Weasel¡¯ didn¡¯t force his point.
¡°Right, I¡¯m getting the hell outta here, but don¡¯t worry Jimmy, if you need me I¡¯ll be on the other side of that razor wire.¡± The Weasel scampered off with his locker bag but not before he had flicked Tiny the ¡®finger¡¯.
¡°My guy thinks that you don¡¯t deserve to be in the same ring as him Tiny. He thinks that you¡¯re nothing more then a fat, y-front sniffing, prancer, he wants to choke the life out of your career.¡± At that ¡®the Weasel¡¯ gave a quick wink to Gentleman Jim and high-tailed his scrawny ass out of the ring.
If ¡®the Human Slaughterer¡¯ had been slightly¡®resentful¡¯ before he was now in a quandary of berserkened fury. Another metal chain had been produced and was tethered around his neck although several of its links were quickly thinning.
The fight announcer stepped through the ropes and into the ring. The presence of another human being in the ring was not reassuring. The ring announcer lifted the visor of his motorcycle helmet, his heavily padded body made it difficult to raise the microphone to his face but with considerable effort he managed to lift his hand.
¡°Ladies and Gentleman. It¡¯s now time for the main event.¡± The crowd went quiet and all that could be heard was Tinys heavy breathing, he began to pant dementedly.
The announcer waited, drawing the audiences¡¯ antipation for the catch-phrase that signalled the beginning of the end. When he felt their impatience may explode he screamed to them ¡°Welcome to Sunday night¡¯s..!¡±
¡°FIGHT TILL THE OTHER GUY DIES!!!¡± The crowd screamed back. Their penchant for human wreakage uncomtained and the mask of civility shattered. A chant of ¡°Rip. Rip. Rip.¡± gripped the arena.
¡°Let me explain the only rule of the match to you all. Of the two competitors in the ring tonight, only one will leave..,¡± he pointed the microphone towards the crowd.
¡°ALIVE!!!¡± Mayhem ensued.
The sprinklers in the roof began to whirl showering the crowd with mock blood. They could see it, now they wanted to taste it.
The announcer smiled. Give them what they ask for and they will always ask for more.
¡°Introducing from East Berlin, in the black corner, wearing no shorts. His record stands at 39 executions, 10 coming by way of voluntary suicide, ¡®German Munster¡¯, ¡®Keiser Minelli¡¯ the beast who lists ¡®raping Satan¡¯ as a hobby, ¡®Tiny ¡®the Human Slaughtererrrrrrrr¡¯ Behemoth.¡± Like disciples to a god they had flocked to see their idol, their fanship finally disintegrated into a savage fracas. Tiny didn¡¯t seem care about his fans, he didn¡¯t seem to care about the applause or that they loved him. The chains strained even further.
¡°And hailing from Queenstown New Zealand, in the creamy yellow corner, a rookie to the cage, a novice with no executions, they call him the ¡®Gentleman of the ring¡¯ Jim Fluuuuuryyyy.¡± Jim Flurry raised his arms and waved them pathetically, the noise from the crowd ceased. Jim did his little dance on the spot. Silence, someone coughed, from nowhere a tumbleweed rolly-poled effortless through the ring caught in a nonexistant breeze.
Luckily Jim¡¯s pitiful attempt at showmanship was broken with a loud impersonal ¡®crunch!¡± The cage settled and the crowd was back on its feet once more and began chucking empty beer cans at the crate. The cans sparked off with quick cracks as the electricity reacted with the aluminum. Fireworks erupted outside the ring and the cage spontaneously burst into flames. Gentleman Jim wondered if he had blundered his way into Hell, or if Hell had hunted him. Its proprietor was shaking uncontrollably. With the brilliant light oscillating in the background the dark silhouette that was Tiny, formidimized.
¡°To add to the destruction a 3 metre sixty kilogram chain will be attached to both fighters forcing them to be bound to each other at ALL TIMES!¡± The crowd went crazy, no-one had known it was going to be a chain match least of all Gentleman Jim. He gulped, now he was befouling himself.
Two more burly trainers entered the ring each helping the other to drag the chain stubbornly inching its way across the canvas. With some effort they lifted a cuff and clicked it around Jims¡¯ wrist. His arm fell instantly downwards pulling his entire body to the mat.
¡°That¡¯s the story,¡± the Weasel yelled from somewhere far away, ¡°lull him into a false sense of security, hah. With the chain there¡¯s nowhere he can run to, there¡¯s nowhere he can hide. He has to face you Jimmy, he has to fight!¡± ¡®Cough¡¯.
Jim Flurry looked in front of him. Three of the trainers were trying to distract Tiny while the other attempted to sneak up behind him. Tiny looked like King Kong swatting at planes on the Empire State building. One of the trainers distracting Tiny grabbed a colleague and threw him into Tinys path like a Christian. Tiny wasted no time wasting him.
¡°Rip, Rip, Rip,¡± the crowd chanted.
¡®Snap.¡¯ The metal cuff clasped shut around Tinys leg but Tiny didn¡¯t notice, he was too busy violently molesting the plaything that had senselessly entered his personal space.
¡°Please stop, please, please stop!¡±
¡°Look at him Jimmy, he¡¯s nothing but a faggot. Look at what he¡¯s doing to the other guys plums, he can¡¯t keep them out of his mouth.¡±
Jim Flurry didn¡¯t make the mistake of looking, the screaming was terrifying enough. When the trainers opened body was thrown at him Jim tried not to stare but he did.
¡°Rip, Rip, Rip,¡± the crowd chanted.
The trainers that weren¡¯t dead assisted those that were with leaving the ring. Long red lines showed where the cadavers had been dragged and were followed by the ring announcer who seemed in a hurry to get out. He gave the trainers room to weld the cage door shut.
¡°Ladies and Gentleman, disporters of sport, spectators of blood, the fighters are bound and the cage has been sealed!¡± The ring announcer proclaimed. Then he turned and stared directly into the cage and roared:
The ring began to tremble and a deafening growl vociferated throughout the arena. Someone had broken free of his steel restraints.
¡°Rip! Rip! Rip!!!¡±
Jim Flurry imagined Tiny instantly walking over to him, grabbing him by the throat and crushing him, he expected that in two seconds Tiny would be upon him, siccing him and tearing him apart. When he opened his eyes however he saw Tiny still standing in his corner. Tiny was looking directly at him. Tiny was aware that there was no-one else in the ring except Jim. Tiny was smiling, but it wasn¡¯t a good smile. He bent down and picked up the chain.
The last thing Gentleman Jim Flurry heard through the dizzying chants of the crowd was the heavy breathing of the thing that waited for him at the end of the chain and the eerily constant clink that drew him ever closer to it, link by link.

The first thing Jim saw when he opened his eyes was that he was back in the fighters¡¯ lounge. The second thing he saw was Tiny Behemoth standing over him.
¡°Hello Alan¡± he said.
¡°Hey Champ, you okay?¡± Tiny ¡®the Human Slaughterer¡¯ Behemoth also known as Alan Tailor reached down with a large friendly hand and helped Jim up.
¡°Yeah, no I¡¯m fine, good show tonight, good crowd.¡±
Alan shook his head. ¡°Stupid bastards, they say it¡¯s only entertainment and yet they¡¯ll believe anything you say.¡± He let out a long chuckle. ¡°Fight till the other guy dies. Huh! Come on, you need to wash off some of that paint and then we¡¯ll grab a coffee.¡± He smiled and added, ¡°and then we can discuss the re-match.¡±

I may be stupid but at least I'm not handsome.

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The following comments are for "Fight till the Other Guy Dies"
by Emlyn

Okay, I read three quarters of it, but after that characters made it practically unreadable. I liked the dialogue - it struck me as extremely realistic and I applaud you. Perhaps a few too many adjectives in the beginning? Then again, it does add to the high-pitched auctioneer-like rhythm of the story. Well written until it became impossible to read.


( Posted by: strangedaze [Member] On: February 23, 2004 )

Thanks very much for the comments strangedaze. I hope its the letter 'chararcters' and not the story 'characters' that make the story hard to read. I totally agree with you on the adjectives at the beginning but I couldn't decide if and what I should take out. I guess, like always laziness triumphs again.

( Posted by: Emlyn [Member] On: February 24, 2004 )

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