Description: Big's at the beach. So is Dudley. It's a variation on the classic sand kicked in a man's face. Only these are both manly men. You guess what happens.
Ah. This is the life. Warm sun shining down. Rhythmic waves crashing on the beach. The feel of the hot sand beneath warm beach blankets. …And rubbing suntan lotion on two fine women in skimpy bikinis lying next to you.
"Alright girls, I think I've got ya covered. It's Mr. Big's turn now," the Southsynd gangster says with a huge grin on his face as he reclines back onto the sand dune, his arms resting behind his head. The girls giggle softly as one of them grabs the bottle of lotion and squirts it on Mr. Big's chest.
"Damn girl, that's cold..." Mr. Big mutters as the girls begin to rub the lotion on his chest, shoulders, and thickly muscled arms. Other than the ever-present sunglasses covering Mr. Big's eyes, he's only wearing a loose-fitting pair of dark blue board shorts. Sadly, it's rather hard for a man to be fashionable at the beach.
Ah, a lovely day at the beach... like the man said. The sun is shining down, the waves splashing rhythmically, women and children and men frolicing and playing around. It is a lovely day.
Now, normally, cars aren't really allowed on the beach, are they? Sure, the lifeguard's association has a coupla Jeeps they use for emergencies, and down near the pier... but what, on this section of the beach? That's right... not only is it a car, but it is a beautiful Jaguar, almost an antique... and kept in perfect condition. The chrome gleams, the moss-green paint shimmers with a fresh coat of wax... the top's rolled down to let the sun in.
As the car rolls up onto the sand, it can be seen that there are just two men in the car. One is Dudley, of course, at the wheel, leaning back and enjoying the breeze. The other is his butler, of course, ready to provide any butler-y service his master may need.
The car comes rolling along, not too fast... but fast enough to throw up a spray of sand at that sand dune that Mr.Big is on... the car gets parked about thirty meters away, Dudley stepping out... and of course looking impeccably dressed. Fashion, sir, does not compromise.
Huh... what's that noise? Wait, a CAR? On the beach?! ...why didn't Mr. Big think of that?
"What the hell?!" Mr. Big exclaims as the vehicle kicks up sand all over him and the girls, sticking to their freshly applied suntan lotion and making a general gross mess. The girls yell out in surprise and run back away from the car, shaking their hands and panicking as self-absorbed spoiled women are like to do when something goes wrong and messes up their makeup and hair.
"Goddamn it," Mr. Big mutters as he picks himself up off of his blanket and wipes at the sandy half-applied sunscreen concoction on his chest. "I guess I gotta beat someone's punk ass now," he muses glumly and bends down to pick up the batons lying innocuously next to a bottle of champagne in ice.
Continuing to grumble as he walks over to the nice car, Mr. Big casually shoves the butler out of the way if he tries to intercede. "Listen here son!" Mr. Big says as he walks up to Dudley, speaking loudly enough for the girls to hear above their own shrieking. "You sprayed sand on my ladies. I think they deserve an apology!" he demands as he pokes a threatening finger towards Dudley's chest.
Big looks quite the sight, what with the board shorts, and the mixture of sunscreen and sand that was just there. The batons are noted as well... Southtown's always had a reputation for being swarmed with fighters, weak and powerful alike. It would be dangerous... one might say almost suicidal... to carry without the skill to use them. This piques Dudley's interest almost immediately.
"Ah, of course," says Dudley, and rather smoothly he steps around Big, and that finger, sketching a deep, from-the-waist bow that last but for a moment.
"My apologies, ladies," he calls, his deep voice carrying over their shrieking as well... but then he turns to Mr. Big. He's got a little half-smirk on his face, nothing too bad though, as he eyes those batons.
"And now my butler deserves an apology," he replies; the butler, not being an idiot, simply got the hell out of the way after that shove. Once again, Dudley's blue eyes flick down to the batons.
"Unless this is to be a contest between men."
"Hmft." Transferring both batons to his left hand, Mr. Big nods in satisfaction as Dudley makes his apology to the girls who probably don't even notice. Eh. Let them screech. So far as the butler is concerned… "Butler huh?" Mr. Big snorts. "You ain't done apologizing yet, sucka. You sprayed sand on /me/ too!" he shouts as he thumbs his own chest. Sneering as Dudley's eyes flick down to his batons, Mr. Big lets his right hand fly up to try and smack the Englishman right on the face. "You look at me when I'm talking to you, goddammit!" Mr. Big growls.
Englishmen. Feh. SOMEONE's gotta teach them some manners.
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big has started a fight here.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Dudley has joined the fight here.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Dudley
COMBATSYS: Dudley endures Mr.Big's Weapon Jab.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Dudley
Ah, so that's it. Big wants an apology too. Well, Dudley will be happy to do so... -after- the fight. He isn't wearing the gloves, of course... though they're in the car, there's no reason to have been wearing them. They won't be dirtied in an unofficial contest of this nature, however.
Dudley raises his arms--but only halfway, because Big's already slapping before Dudley's ready. And that dictates Dudley's reaction--he starts turning as the slap comes in, adding its momentum to the short uppercut that is suddenly launched with his left hand, curled into a meaty fist.
A short grunt follows the punch, standard protocol for a boxer.
COMBATSYS: Dudley successfully hits Mr.Big with Light Punch.
- Power hit! -
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Mr.Big 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 Dudley
Psh. Mr. Big notices the uppercut heading for his jaw, but really, what are the odds of this rich English gentleman actually being able to hurt him? This Brit obviously doesn't know who he's dealing with! Sticking out his chin defiantly as the punch lands, Mr. Big gasps in shock when the force of the powerful blow snaps his head back, tossing his sunglasses onto the sand behind him. "Well, well, well..." Mr. Big mutters as he rubs at his sore jaw. "Percival here thinks he can fight..."
Passing a baton from his left hand to his right, Mr. Big squints at Dudley in the bright sun, his eyes not yet adjusted to the light. "This might be fun after all." Swinging his baton upwards, it looks as if Mr. Big is trying to catch Dudley under the jaw with the stick in his right hand, but the weapon passes by harmlessly. Much less harmless is the bright orange plume of chi that rises in the wake of the weapon, erupting from the ground near Dudley's feet.
COMBATSYS: Dudley blocks Mr.Big's Ground Blaster.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/-----==|===----\-------\0 Dudley
If Big thinks that being a boxer means that Dudley doesn't know how to handle chi, then he would be wrong. Dudley has learned about this wicked energy in many forms... although he doesn't use it much, himself. Dudley shrinks back a half-step, taking the brunt of the attack on his forearms, ducking low to do it.
And then from that ducking position he's lunging forward, still low, his strong legs powering him up and forward, right arm cocked back--but not for a punch. Rather, Dudley seeks to lunge -past- Big, almost, his right arm aimed to snag the Pimp Cane Padrino around the chest and sling him forward and off his feet.
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big fails to interrupt Dynamite Throw from Dudley with Double Ground Blaster.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0 Dudley
Frowning in concentration as he squints at Dudley, Mr. Big moves to whip his batons foreword as the pugilist rushes him. "Hrrk!" Mr. Big grunts as he's grabbed and tossed off of his feet, slamming down into the sand solidly. "Dammit." Mr. Big mutters as he picks himself up, now even covered with even MORE sand. "...can't see worth a damn..." he grumbles as he walks over to his sunglasses and puts them back onto his head."Okay, now where were we?"
Dudley wastes no time; whether this is a 'friendly' match or not, he gives his best to his opponents. There is no holding back. To hold back is to do his opponent a disservice and a dishonor... and Dudley's all about the honor. So... he'll wait 'til Big gets up, before launching his next attack. But only just barely; the moment Big is on his feet Dudley is lunging forward, practically blurring across the distance.. though it's pure speed and physical strength, nothing mystical.
The same goes for his attack, a swift series of jabs launched from Dudley's left hand, a bit wildly, cover for the uppercut that comes from the right a moment later.
"I believe we were 'having at!'" cries Dudley; his expression is intent, but there's a sort of joyous laughter in his voice. Ah, how he loves to box.
COMBATSYS: Dudley successfully hits Mr.Big with Machinegun Blow.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/---====|=====--\-------\0 Dudley
Moving wildly to try and avoid the flurry of jabs, Mr. Big doesn't even see the uppercut coming as his flies into his jaw, snapping his head back and throwing his sunglasses off of his head and into the sand behind him AGAIN. "DAMMIT!" Mr. Big growls as he rubs out the pain in his jaw and scoops up his sunglasses. "Alright. Now you're really starting to piss me off." Mr. Big states simply as he places the glasses on his head. Stay put now, dammit. "I ain't gunna hold back no more."
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big gathers his will.
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Mr.Big 1/------=/=======|=====--\-------\0 Dudley
Dudley holds back at that moment, seeing Big getting up again. It isn't out of kindness... more out of a strategical concept. Dudley dances in place, showing off the kind of speed footwork that is much harder to do in the sand, where footing can be uneven. His fists weave in a complex motion, and all this activity doesn't seem to be tiring him out as he grins.
"Oh, you were holding back before?" he quips, dropping his movement for just a moment to whip a rose out of nowhere and toss it in a high arc over to one of Big's ladies.
"Then I'll be glad to see your true strength."
COMBATSYS: Dudley focuses on his next action.
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Mr.Big 1/------=/=======|=====--\-------\0 Dudley
"What the!" Mr. Big gasps as Dudley throws a rose to his woman. "THAT'S MY KOOL AID PERCY!" Mr. Big bellows as he rushes in on the boxer, sand flying everywhere as he runs. Once he's in range, Mr. Big shoots his hands forward, attempting to lock his batons behind Dudley's neck as he massive bald head swings forward to crack against Dudley's own melon. In the background, the girls can be heard chattering about the rose as the watch the fight. Damn hoes. What ever happened to loyalty?
COMBATSYS: Dudley interrupts Strong Throw from Mr.Big with Rocket Upper.
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Mr.Big 1/---====/=======|===----\-------\0 Dudley
So... the tactic worked--and surprisingly well. Dudley turns back from tossing the rose and Big's lunging at him, quite quickly indeed. That grip on his neck is had, but it seems as though Dudley was almost expecting something like this to happen; he is moving just as the grip happens to catch, compacting his body and starting a powerful twisting motion with his legs and hips, which suddenly transfers up into his upper body, his right hand exploding upwards into a powerful uppercut, a windlike energy bursting around him to add a slashing sort of damage. The uppercut slams into Big's body, Dudley's legs leaving the ground as he makes a short leap--carrying Big with him... and when Dudley lands, he lunges upwards again, spiraling upwards to pummel Big once more... and then he lands and does it a final time, spiralling upwards twice as high as the last uppercut, before landing, a cloud of sand rising around his feet.
Mr. Big is juggled into the air numerous times by an attack that's just as painful as it looks. The final strike sending him flying, his impact digs a furrow in the sand as he skids to a stop. Groaning groggily, the crime boss sit up. "...'m alright..." Mr. Big informs no one in particular as he steps out of the crater. Stumbling for a moment, Mr. Big crashes down to knee and motions towards Dudley. "C'mon... I'm not done with you yet..." he slurs.
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big gains composure.
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Mr.Big 1/----===/=======|===----\-------\0 Dudley
Very well. It was a good strike, hard and true; Dudley felt it to be so. But Big is proving himself to be tougher than expected as well. It's a good thing, an entirely good thing. Dudley, however... will not strike a downed opponent. Call it a boxing rule, call it personal honor, call it a crappy tactical error. Until Big proves he's ready to fight, Dudley will not. Rather, he takes a few deep breaths, himself, slowing his heartrate and regaining his breath. Fighting like this does take a lot out of him.
COMBATSYS: Dudley gains composure.
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Mr.Big 1/----===/=======|==-----\-------\0 Dudley
Pushing himself up to his feet, Mr. Big slaps his head a few times to shake the proverbial cobwebs loose. "Well? Mr. Big asks, "I said we ain't done yet!" There's no way he's going to let himself be embarrassed like this in front of his own women. "Come over here and fight, dammit!" Mr. Big hollers as he drops into his fighting stance, his right baton guarding up near his face, and his left baton held low as he lounges back on his rear foot.
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big focuses on his next action.
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Mr.Big 1/----===/=======|==-----\-------\0 Dudley
"Very well," replies Dudley, bouncing back and forth on his feet, before advancing once more upon Mr. Big, bobbing and weaving as he approaches, his big fists clenched tight, elbows tucked into a classic boxer's stance. His approach is swift, but cautious; he feints left, then left again, before stepping in with a right hook punch, aimed not for the head or the chest but for the abdomen, just above the belt... a strike to the vitals, almost to the kidneys.
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big fails to interrupt Hook Punch from Dudley with Double Ground Blaster.
-* CRITICAL FAIL! *-
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Mr.Big 1/---====/=======|===----\-------\0 Dudley
Moving his baton's guard around as Dudley feints, Mr. Big sees the hook coming from a mile away as it flies towards his body. This is almost too easy. The tips of his batons begin to spark with chi as he lifts them, preparing to blast Dudley off of the beach with two savage blasts of chi...
...right as Mr. Big's foot slips in the sand. One foot sliding away from the other, Mr. Big nearly falls into the splits as he loses his balance, just in time for Dudley's hook to catch him right in the ear. "SONNOVA BITCH!" Mr. Big howls as he leaps to his feet, holding both his ear and his crotch tenderly. "What are the odds?!" he gasps as he doubles over in pain.
Now that--that looked like it hurt. Dudley backs off again, slipping back about ten paces. He certainly looks concerned for the man... or at least his jewels, those splits can't have been pleasant, although the hook punch in the ear is something he won't apologize for. Dudley bounces again, light on his feet and looking as fresh as a spring breeze. He's not about to underestimate his adversary, no matter how well he's been doing against him.
"Do you still want to 'go at it'?" he inquires--an honest question, given that Big may have just torn something. Dudley is still quite ready to fight, though.
COMBATSYS: Dudley takes no action.
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Mr.Big 1/---====/=======|===----\-------\0 Dudley
Doubled over with his hands on his knees, Mr. Big spits onto the sand a few times, breathing deeply as he seems to ignore Dudley's question. Lifting both his head and a hand off of his knee, Mr. Big's mouth moves as he speaks, though whatever he says is drowned out by the sound of a particularly loud wave crashing against the beach. His meaning should be rather clear though, judging by the extended middle finger on the hand he's holding up in the air.
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big drops his guard to recover.
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Mr.Big 1/---====/=======|===----\-------\0 Dudley
Ah. That... changes things. Dudley's eyes narrow; even if the words were drowned out by the waves... Dudley heard. Or he read Big's lips. Of course the middle finger makes it entirely clear what was said regardless. Now he knows. Big ain't got no honor. Dudley ducks low and lunges forward, intending to simply shoulder block Mr. Big right into the sand. His expression is the only thing that changes; there's nothing about his stance or his movement that opens him up any more than necessary.
... and yes, the butler's monocle -does- pop out. He says "My word!"... to Big's women, who is serving tea and crumpets to. Never hurts to be polite, after all.
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big endures Dudley's Fierce Punch.
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Mr.Big 1/--=====/=======|===----\-------\0 Dudley
Watching with his hands resting on his knees as Dudley's face goes grim, Mr. Big's mouth breaks into a smile. FINALLY. Mr. Big can't deal with that 'fighting with honor' crap. Now THIS is more like he's used to. Taking a step forward just as Dudley crashes into him, Mr. Big grunts softly as the shoulder block drives him backwards, his feet sliding on the sand.
"Now Big's got ya." Mr. Big says softly as his mouth breaks into a wolfish grin. His batons fly into action with Dudley still pressed against his own body, sweeping upward to try and smack the other man away with the force of his attack. If he's able to make solid contact, Mr. Big will continue the baton barrage, striking at Dudley's chest, neck and head with multiple attacks and different angles before finishing with a rising uppercut baton strike meant to carry the boxer off of his feet.
COMBATSYS: Dudley blocks Mr.Big's Drum Shot Typhoon.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/------=|=====--\-------\0 Dudley
'Now Big's got ya?' Not hardly. Dudley learned first off how to take a hit; his size comparative to the world's best heavyweight champions meant he -had- to, because if he didn't, he'd be goin' down quick and easy. And while Dudley may indeed go down quick and easy with the ladies, he does not do so for his opponents. Swiftly, Dudley pulls his elbows in, and ducks his head, and he's twisting and turning, presenting Big with no openings for the batons to strike. It isn't an -easy- thing to do... but Dudley gets it done. And this close, he just fires off another combination of jabs, his left hand firing off like the machinegun for which the move is named... that right uppercut coming again.
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big blocks Dudley's Machinegun Blow.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/-----==|=====--\-------\0 Dudley
Alright, so Dudley handled Mr. Big's best attack fairly easily. Yeah, that's not really much of a surprise at this point. This Dudley guy seems to be a pretty competent fighter. Mr. Big doesn't exactly feel overwhelmed by the guy, but the flow of the fight so far is pretty obvious and there aren't a lot of fighters around that can make fighting Mr. Big look so easy. Oh well, maybe this just ain't Mr. Big's day. Shooting a glance at the girls standing around drinking tea and eating crumpets, Mr. Big's eyebrows narrow angrily. Damn women.
"Okay, let's get this over with," Mr. Big says glumly as he whips a baton upwards, another flare of chi following in its wake, though instead of just rising upwards and dissipating like his previous Ground Blaster, this one continues on along it's path towards Dudley, the energy it emanates leaving a thin train of crunchy glass in the sand as it travels.
COMBATSYS: Dudley Toughs Out Mr.Big's Ground Blazer!
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Mr.Big 0/-------/---====|=======\-------\1 Dudley
If Mr. Big thinks he's the only 'tough guy' around... well, he'd best think again. Dudley actually drops his guard for a moment.. and lunges forward. His tightly muscled body crashes right through the projectile; it slows him for a moment, but Dudley gains far more than he loses in momentum; he lunges all the harder, making up the ground in an instant. As Dudley lunges, he twists himself to his left, once again starting that powerful momentum shift as he drops low to throw a hard, right uppercut, his body spinning from the momentum as it rises in the air.
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big fails to interrupt Jet Uppercut EX from Dudley with Staff Thrust.
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Dudley 0/-------/-----==|
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big can no longer fight.
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Dudley 0/-------/-----==|
Extending his baton to try and halt Dudley's progress via a thrusting stab to his nose, Mr. Big fails once more, the rising uppercut throwing him through the air to land in the sand with a thud. Mr. Big doesn't move much after that, his eyes fixated on the sky above him as he finally gets a chance to lie on the beach, taking in the sun in peace. Who cares about the girls after all, Mr. Big can't even keep their names straight. Maybe he'll stop and pick up some others on his way home.
Dudley spins twice in midair before he lands, turning to see that Big--is finally down and possibly out. The girls? They're being taken care of by the butler (in a polite and publically correct manner); Dudley himself has concerned himself with Big. Dudley walks over to the fallen Mr. Big and offers him... a hand up. If he takes it--or even if he doesn't--Dudley grunts.
"An excellent performance," he says--apparently willing, at the moment, to let go Mr. Big's middle finger or the obscenities he said. Either way, he'll soon return to his car, with a word of advice for Big.
"Don't ignore the ladies, I'm sure they're worried about you."
COMBATSYS: Dudley has ended the fight here.
Mr. Big stares up at Dudley's hand for a few moments before finally taking it and letting the English gentlemen help him up. "Psh. Those two don't worry about nothing except who's buying them dinner and drinks tonight." Dusting the sand off of himself, Mr. Big turns to walk back where he car is parked. "You go ahead and take them if you want. You look like you can afford them as easily as I can. Either way they ain't gettin a ride with me," he tells Dudley over his shoulder.
Hmmmmph. If that's true, then they're certainly not worthy of Dudley. He smirks faintly, and turns towards his car, raising a hand and snapping his fingers... a clear signal for the butler to return to the car. And with that... Dudley drives off. It wasn't quite what he expected but he got his exercise anyways.
Log created by Dudley, and last modified on 22:18:42 02/19/2007.