Description: Next you got a man who KNOWS class when he sees it, and let me tell you, these guys? They're the opposite of class. He hasn't stepped out onto a fighting stage in almost as long as I have, but he's going to make the earth shake for these fools, and not in a good way. I'm talking of course, about the immortal man himself, the unkillable Duke. He's just got into town on his luxury yacht, and the harbor is full of scumbags. Its a public service really. (Winner: Duke)
The docks were surprising quiet here in the yacht yard.
The red and black yacht pulls up alongside the harbor. Deep within the harbor complex, this part of the docks was devoid of the gangs. A few well-dressed men, a few clean looking dock workers. And judging by the other yachts, the home of the toys of many a rich man. Standing at the edge of the pier was a brown-haired, brown-suited man of a grim visage and a missing eye. Bearing an eyepatch over his right eye, he clutches a briefcase in one hand, and checks his wristwatch in the other. Five other men and women were with him. Two well-dressed, well adjusted men preparing the yacht for port, to tie it down and prepare the walk way. The rest was the three team crew for the Friday Night Rumble. The first was a young woman, fresh out of Film school, carrying the camera. With her was a rather dazed looking sound technician, carrying the boom mic. The final person was the assistant producer, a rather well-dressed man in a suit and a clipboard. As the yacht finishes pulling in, the producer suddenly pipes up.
"... Is this him?"
The one-eyed man does not answer, but simply watches the walkway be brought out, the yacht coming to a halt. The producer continues to talk, a light chicago accent on his lips. "Listen, I don't know what kind of operation you are running here. But I was told that we were going to be safe. And frankly, I don't feel safe. I haven't seen a single policeman since heading to the docks. What's worse, I haven't seen a single gangster since coming in here. At best we are all in danger at getting kneecapped by a bunch of thugs. But at worst, there isn't a single piece of action to be found here!? And where is this Duke? Is he even coming around-"
The man shuts up promptly as the first thunderous footstep comes down.
Dressed in his three piece red suit and clutching an ebony cane, Duke emerges from the yacht, scanning the surrounding turf as he descends the walkway. The harbor was Syndicate territory. The outskirts were very safe, very secure. People paid good money for security. But within the docks... there was a rise in riff-raff, especially since May Lee and Brett leveled one of their hideouts. It destabilized the place. Of course, the yachts would be safe. Even the most well-paid thug wouldn't touch these boats. And as for the most maniacal...
That was what people like Jacque was for.
he crew was growing nervous. Miss Cale made it clear how this would be structured. They would be following an 'experienced fighter' into a fight on the docks. This was the experienced fighter, for certain. And yet, there wasn't a single word from the man, or his assistant. As Duke reaches the pier, he holds out his cane... which one of the pier-workers collects. Holding out his arms, the one-eyed man suddenly slips behind Duke, and places down the briefcase. Carefully, the man begins to remove Duke's jacket and shirt, undressing him down to the waist. As he begins to get dressed down, he glares at the producer. And finally, he speaks.
"Stay close to Jacque. Do not stray off. And only then, can I assure your safety." As his chest is exposed, deep scars checker across the chest of the Immortal Devil, coursing over his muscled form. As Jacque finishes collecting the coat, he hands it off to the other pier-worker. And then, Duke lumbers forward. The crew, suddenly snapping to, begins to ready the equipment as Jacque takes point behind the three, clutching the briefcase once again. Duke leads the four to the edge of the yacht yard, where three armed guards, equipped with what must be AR-15s, standing guard at a razor-wire, reinforced shipping fence. Duke stands at the gate, as one of the guards inputs the combination to slowly slide open the fence. Duke waits. Waits. And finally, as it opens, he steps out into the wilderness of the rest of the dockyard.
On the hunt for the rival gangsters of the harbor.
The dockyard wilderness is a jungle unto itself. The stench of rotting seafood goods, a bit of gunpowder, a hint of blood... rust and decay, from poorly-maintained boats having been anchored here for longer than they should have been. There's activity beyond the fence, and the sheer laughter and shouting from beyond would chill the blood of men far lesser than Duke himself.
Metro City was never that nice of a place to live, but out here on the docks it's almost like as it was during the great world war of Vega's ambitions. It's no longer safe to even rest in the shadows, lest you bump into some unseen threat.
Take, for example, the oddly out-of-their-element appearance of a young Japanese woman in... a lot of dress. It's much too hot to be wearing that many layers of clothing. An obvious mule waiting to be stopped by customs officials for a pat-down were it not for the fact she was an escaped serial killer (thanks to, uh, special circumstances) with a... very famous loose grasp on reality, holding onto a chain and otherwise smiling and babbling on and on as though it were just a leisurely stroll in the park.
Contrast with a young man of mixed Russian and Chinese descent, slim in build but a veteran of the aforementioned Chinese bid for world domination and a fugitive from the UN forced to lay low as a gangbanger - even if he seems to take a little too much care of his looks to really come off as such. He seems to put up with this with a vague, vacant stare over the ocean, standing tall with arms crossed.
"...and we just got another friend too," the woman in way too much clothing chirps as she points excitedly over to the muscled form of Duke, "we can have so much fun, it's such a beautiful day out here, I'm fine!"
The man turns his head with the glare of someone unapproving of a trespasser, until he actually really sizes up who's there. He knows who he is.
"You should leave," the voice is oddly soft-spoken, "this... this place is of no concern to you."
"Hello!" The girl waves in a spastic manner, flailing a chain around. "Do you like jumprope? I like jumprope. Jumprope is--"
"Leave at once!" The man lowers his stance, spreading his legs apart as he sawys to and back, feet moving erratically - some sort of fancy footwork guy, perhaps?
"Oh is this a photographer? Hello photographer!" She takes the chain and starts to hold it horizontally in front of her, either happily displaying the chain or looking entirely ready to reach out and strangle someone with it with a smile. It's hard to tell...
Even if she's all smiles, the man is all frowns and business, as if knowing full well what's about to come.
Would this be a good enough pair for Cale's ambitions to capture it all on TV?
COMBATSYS: Chirikov has started a fight here.
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Chirikov 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Nakashima has joined the fight here.
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Chirikov 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Nakashima
Madness begets manner.
The plodding swagger of the gang lord approaching was a thunder. Metro City was no place to raise a family. But as Duke identified, it was a place to set up business. Business that he had no intention of sharing outside of his terms. The crew scans the area, nervous of what will happen in this no-mans land. The harbor was too quiet, and with the lack of police, would they be jumped by an army. Duke had no such fears. He wasn't looking for an army. He was looking for agents, for stragglers.
And he eyes the pair.
The topless titan of a man clenches his hands into tight fists. The crew, nervous of the quiet assistant behind them, get the signal from Duke. Quickly, they ready the camera, pinning it towards Duke as the two gangsters start to chatter. The eccentric dressed lady with the chain was clearly unhinged. But the quiet ones were always the most dangerous ones. An illusion that Jacque worked hard to keep up. It was unusual Jacque wasn't the one handling this. This was clearly a ground guy's work. Typically, Duke had a hands-off approach to combat. He had men below him to fight. But Miss Cale insisted on Duke to fight on camera.
And he couldn't say no to a lady.
Duke himself, doesn't slow down as he is threatened. He doesn't slow down at the threats. He just continues to approach, a smirk spreading across his face. This was not a man that would threaten with words. This was not a man that would try to frighten these people off. There were no illusions about Duke's power, and he could sense the fear in the rational one of the two. The Syndicate Boss of Metro City was only scant yards away now, and finally, he speaks. He unleashes a low, rumbling roar, commanding the pair with a smirk and a glare.
"Hold still, and I will make this quick."
COMBATSYS: Duke has joined the fight here as a boss!
DUKE
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Chirikov 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Nakashima
'Unhinged' is probably being gentle. Cale was right about one thing when it came to these two fine sacrif-- samples of the dregs infesting Metro City. Between the woman wearing way, way, way too much clothing that would even be too much for Antarctica's weather and the man whose steps seem to indicate the beginnings of dancing but without any clear cultural origin for the steps he has learned, these two are classless.
They may very well do for her pitch to the audiences out there.
To Duke's well-spoken offer, the woman immediately goes to completely inappropriate (...maybe even frightened?) giggles as one end of her chain hits the wooden planks hard enough to splinter. Something much more appropriate a gesture for a schoolgirl and not... her.
"This... isn't funny," the dancing man seems exasperated enough with her as he sizes up the shirtless titan who has no doubt already decided just how brutal their ends may very well be, and yet knows he can't back down because... where the hell could he go?
"Okay!" The woman says as she seems to skip along right towards Duke and just try to wring her arms around his neck in an awfully affectionate hug, but it has all the familiar makings of an actual choke. Is she faking this mood to try and lower Duke's guard, or... does she really think this is a friendly way to go about things? "Take pictures! Take pictures! He's cute. I like him."
The man is hesitant, but knows to work with the opportunity as it presents itself as he dives in low, sliding against the splintered dock grounds with a surprising smoothness as he hooks one leg into Duke's knees while simultaneously striking at one of the heels with the other.
COMBATSYS: Duke endures Chirikov's Takedown Sweep.
DUKE
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Chirikov 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Nakashima
COMBATSYS: Duke interrupts Choke Hold from Nakashima with Crack Up.
DUKE
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Chirikov 0/-------/-------|=====--\-------\0 Nakashima
It was not funny.
He did not find any of this funny. Oh, it was amusing. Two classless cheeseballs trying to make it big in his city? It would be cute, if they only had not gone through Shadaloo. Now, it was his problem. A dancing fool, and fool dancing. As the chain splinters the pierboards, Duke does not even blink. He just continues his advance.
And the pair pounces.
Nakashima goes high, while the dancing fighter goes low. As Chirikov smashes against the Duke's legs, he manages to make contact. But the legs do not move. The crazed fighter that goes for Duke's neck receives a brief scowl. As she lays her hands on the ragged flesh of his neck scar, it is like she hits a switch. "I gave you an opportunity to make this easy." Duke's rumbles with a foundation-shuddering baritone.
"And you did not disappoint."
Duke ignores the man hooking to his legs. Duke's whole of his attentions was on the woman before him. . The brief hold is broken as Duke smashes a right fist directly into her face, to stun her. Without missing a beat, he hurls his left upward into an uppercut, to hurl her into the air... before finishing with a bone-shattering straight before she lands back on the ground, sending her body flying hard into the brick wall of a dockside warehouse. Cracking his neck, the Duke's gaze softly drops down to the man hooking hard into his legs. Eyes burning into the man, the don states darkly.
"And now it is your turn."
There is blood. These parts of Metro have seen plenty of blood decorate the docks, to be faded to a duller color along the rest, a forgotten price paid by the weak as people traverse by foot through the docks, as the overdressed woman disappears under the series of dock-shaking, bone-shattering, morale-breaking, life-threatening punches that have felled so many that stood in the Duke's way.
Various people funnel out of the warehouse, the very sound of things falling apart in the distance being something Cale might want caught on camera - those punches Duke threw? Very real. What he did to her? Legit. The damage? /Marketable./
As the dancing fool lays low with one of his legs partially tangled (uselessly) against the Duke who speaks of it being his turn, he immediately disengages with a backward flip, bringing his legs up in a strike that likely dares not carry enough weight to even move the man who has chosen to intrude on the newly-claimed turf of these Metro invaders, his eyes filled with the unmistakable motion of fright. Even as a man who has seen battle and horror, he remains utterly aware of his immortality and, yet, the lack of anywhere else he could run should he turn tail. The UN does want him.
Meanwhile, in the distance, a shrill female voice - no, the same one! - speaks up.
"I'm fine!" This is a blatant lie, as she is seen staggering back towards the two of them with blood decorating her dress, her nose broken, a cheek very puffy as her giggling is replaced with a breath-y wheeze that tries to grasp at the concept of laughing. "I like ridesh. They're fuuuuuun."
COMBATSYS: Nakashima takes no action.
DUKE
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Chirikov 0/-------/-------|=====--\-------\0 Nakashima
COMBATSYS: Duke endures Chirikov's Medium Kick.
DUKE
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Chirikov 0/-------/------=|=====--\-------\0 Nakashima
When Duke was made to come down to do the dirty work, it was to send out a message. Sometimes, the message did not work. His experience with Cammy proved why it was better to stay above the carnage. But when Duke was personally clearing out the riffraff?
Entire criminal empires fall.
As the crowd comes pouring out the warehouse, a few may notice the crime lord's presence. As the girl pulls herself together, though, Duke is focused on the foreign menace at his feet. As the man launches back up, Duke doesn't even bother to block. He takes the strike cleanly, the blow smashing the brutal man in the face. And in response, Duke doesn't even flinch, and says one word.
"No."
Duke's tree trunk of a leg swings back, building momentum. His lip was split, a trickle of blood running down his chin. He was immortal, yes, but he could bleed. But it was for naught. A deep, thrusting kick is unleashed, roaring forth with driving, brutal power. Duke was not just kicking the agile man. he was stomping down, to smash him and splinter him against the boards of the pier. Whether it hit or not, Duke would just keep moving, walking with the stomp. To glare towards the crowd pouring out.
Before making a slow, cutting gesture at his throat.
COMBATSYS: Duke successfully hits Chirikov with Medium Kick.
DUKE
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Chirikov 0/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0 Nakashima
Even giving himself some distance to give him an advantage in reacting, the fierce response of Duke is a cold, harsh reminder that there is no easily escaping his wrath as he stomps the man through the very boards of the dock, the splash of water spiking high in putting a fine point on the very impact.
The toughs that look out from the warehouse seem conflicted, even with the cutting gesture of Duke's throat that should communicate all they need to know. Most of them seem to come to a consensus to try to pass off as belonging there, not to throw themselves at him like those two.
Disturbingly, the woman throws her arms up as she is splashed by some of this water from the dancing fool's disgraceful dismissal through the docks.
"It's raining!" She smiles - wow, she's missing a tooth there, mouth still bloodied. What the hell is wrong with her, just about anyone would ask as she comes back up towards the very man who had given her a very eloquent rejection (with his fists), swinging her chain up and around and around as though less an actual attempt at attacking and more pretending she has an umbrella that she is constantly reasserting, threatening to deflect itself off of Duke's massive, well-built chest a couple times.
"Do you like standing out in the rain too? It feels nice. I never want to go inside," she continues to babble on and on and on...
Meanwhile, there's a splashing sound as the man struggles to pull himself back up out of the nice little hole made with both Duke's gentle touch and himself, coughing and spitting as he recovers. His hair is all over his face, he can't see now - he could really do with a haircut.
COMBATSYS: Chirikov takes no action.
DUKE
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Chirikov 0/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0 Nakashima
COMBATSYS: Duke blocks Nakashima's Chain Whack.
DUKE
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Chirikov 0/-------/=======|======-\-------\0 Nakashima
Raw power.
The cameras were getting a show of true power, as Duke smashes the dancer through the pier.. Power that Duke will be promoting around the city. This was a demonstration of power from the gang lord. Power that would lure others into his hands. The thugs might try and pretend that they are part of the scenary. But if Duke has his way, they would be part of the locale.
And part of his own gang.
%Duke glares down on the madwoman with distain. As the chain is whipped around again and again, he brings up his forearms, blocking the incoming slashes as he continues to approach the woman with unceasing momentum. Already, his split lip was clotted, the wound sealed. The brief bruises on his arms were likewise fading, nearly instantly after every whip. Tthe guard goes down, and Duke rumbles.
"Then I will make it so you won't."
Duke attempts to seize the chain, to stop the assault cold. Should he grab the chain, he will step in, jerking the chain hard back, letting himself deep in the defense of the woman. He will simply string out the arm like a piece of rope, and raise his free fist up. This wasn't to hit a vital organ. This was to cripple, to break. Slamming down his hand, he would attempt to smash the limb right into her shoulder. To dislocate her shoulder cleanly...
Or shatter the bone to pieces.
COMBATSYS: Duke successfully hits Nakashima with Fierce Punch.
DUKE
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Chirikov 0/-------/=======|=======\===----\1 Nakashima
Crunch. The entire docks hears that sound. The camera(s) have almost certainly picked it up. The layers of clothing that the madwoman wears does wonders to hide any bleeding, but the quivering lip and extremely strange vocalization that comes out of her throat as she staggers (with a little spin), her arm limp and the chain clattering against the pier.
These people are not Duke's peers.
The cheery(?) woman bites her lip, lowering her head as to hide her eyes as she stands still on the uneven, hole-filled part of the pier as though her very mind were trying to fathom what it is that's going on. Tears? Maybe a ruse? There can't be anybody like her who acts that way for real... can there?
The dancing would-be thug sweeps himself back onto the pier in an impressive acrobatic display, realizing that this opportunity may be the only one he has to actually get a real, honest-to-goodness blow (or two) on the bare-chested marauder whom frighteningly appears less and less injured as the seconds tick, the dancing man pushing off into the air with one leg outstretched as he spins right into the other, as if thinking that this will actually do any good in slowing down a man who does not appear to be able to be injured in any meaningful capacity - or slowed, for that matter!
COMBATSYS: Nakashima takes no action.
DUKE
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Chirikov 0/-------/=======|=======\===----\1 Nakashima
COMBATSYS: Duke blocks Chirikov's Flying Double Kick.
DUKE
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Chirikov 0/-------/=======|=======\===----\1 Nakashima
Every moment was very much real.
In full color, before a live audience, Duke deals the ruthless, disabling strike. To cripple her, to break her. He was not here for games. The tears do nothing to the Syndicate Boss. If this was a real girl, a real innocent, he might show mercy. But this was only a sick dog that needed to be put down. This was all business, as the man flying in would best understand. There were always winners in business, and their were losers.
And Duke didn't tolerate losers in his presence.
The incoming kick is met as he hurls up a single forearm, stopping the blow dead cold. As the second kick comes, the second forearm comes. The bruises return, the limbs struggling against the fierce power. But up close, the fighter can see that the lip was now healed, the wound nothing more than a small pale mark on the lip. Duke was healing rapidly. And if the pair did not put the pressure on.
He would be at full strength soon enough.
Duke suddenly swings up a limb, hurling an uppercut to catch the fighter before he even hits the ground. Back turned to the Ophelia, Duke was exposed briefly as he pours into the other. The camera was catching the show, the gang lord ripping across the pier. After the first uppercut is hurled, Duke doesn't risk it, and pushes himself hard, hurling out a second, even more fierce uppercut with the other arm.
To send the poor fool skyward.
COMBATSYS: Duke successfully hits Chirikov with Tall Hammer.
DUKE
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Chirikov 1/--=====/=======|=======\===----\1 Nakashima
The juggling act of the lithe man is brutal - it is increasingly debatable as to whether or not Cale is going to actually be able to show any of this on live television given the heaviness of every hit the Duke lands. The power makes the pier shudder just as greatly as bones are heard to snap and crack under the ol' one-two.
Nobody seems to really /see/ that guy come back down, but there is a much more pressing matter when Duke turns his back. The unmistakable, give-away sound of that chain moving again (to the camera, that crazy lady is definitely picking the chain back up with her one good arm, gripping it tightly with enough of the center length squeezed out into a noose-like shape) as she is suddenly leaping upon Duke, wrapping that exposed rounded length of chain in the center around his neck, attempting to pull back with surprising - well, not surprising, she is clearly some order of psychopath - whispering two words with a shaky, yet unmistakably cheery voice.
"I'm fiiiiine...."
The guy a bit too far up to be considered safe for landing is awakened by the air rushing to his face as he realizes just how high up he's just been punched, panicking as he comes back down - he attempts to lead with his foot as he comes back down, hoping - just hoping - that the big man will be able to take his fall. The sheer pain going through one of his ankles - no, leg, he can barely feel one particular foot now - does not bode well for his ability to make anything resembling a graceful landing, even as he comes down at an angle almost akin to a serpentine strike. (This may be giving the fall way too much credit.)
The crowd a ways away has most certainly thinned, as though this display has made some of them think twice about joining the fray.
COMBATSYS: Duke Toughs Out Chirikov's Strong Kick!
DUKE
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Chirikov 1/-======/=======|=======\===----\1 Nakashima
COMBATSYS: Duke interrupts Chain Choke from Nakashima with Minefield.
DUKE
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Chirikov 1/-======/=======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Nakashima
Bethany would very likely need to work with the FCC for this airing.
Duke's sundering uppercut crushes the fool, sending him to heaven... and letting his own actions bring him to hell. He doesn't even turn around to face the other. Duke had no reason to. He had no fear. There was no danger to him right now, no danger to the crew. Jacque continues to keep point behind the trio, watching the crowd cautiously, hand tucked into his suit jacket to the concealed pistol holstered within. Duke himself glances towards the thinning crowd.
And disgusted, crosses his arms.
"This is it? This is the best you have to offer?" The scorn from Duke's voice thunders violently, staring at Chirikov. As the girl takes advantage of the exposed back, wrapping the chain around his neck, Duke doesn't even stop it. A fire begins to burn across his body, building to a brighter and brighter light. He shakes his head as the brute breaks the dance fighter's fall with his own head, causing a goose egg to swell up. But still, he stood tall, chest puffed out. As the figure rolls out of the way, Duke croaks as the light suddenly goes dim.
"Worthless."
And Duke explodes in a burst of hell fire, consuming the woman behind him.
There's that breathy giggling from that lady as she has her hold on him. Sweat runs down her brow as the heat builds, starting to whispering babbled nonsense as it builds, and builds, and builds....
The dancer's fall is not broken in this building sight as he tumbles across the pier in the direction of Jacques and the rest of the crew. From the dancer's point of view, there is nothing /but/ light. He cowers before it, covering his eyes away from it lest he be blind.
Nobody hears anything from the woman as the energy disappears. The melted slag of the chain hits the wood of the pier, threatening to eat through it... possibly start a fire. From all appearances, she may have simply been unmade by Duke's incredible power... or maybe she's losing consciousness in the water as she admires the fish, continuing to delude herself into thinking everything is all right, that she is fine.
Nobody cries her name out. Her leave is, altogether, welcome.
The dancer, meanwhile, shakes where he lies. To everyone's credit, he doesn't think to get up and immediately attempt to hold the camera crew hostage. He can't, because he's now incapable of standing up thanks to a broken leg.
"Who... who are you?" The young man asks with fright, who would have never imagined that his recent past would have caught up to him like this, as he sits largely helpless, completely at Duke's mercy.
COMBATSYS: Nakashima takes no action.
DUKE
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Chirikov 1/-======/=======|
COMBATSYS: Nakashima can no longer fight.
DUKE
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Chirikov 1/-======/=======|
COMBATSYS: Chirikov takes no action.
DUKE
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Chirikov 1/-======/=======|
His name.
The explosion detonates around Duke. Splintered wood scatters, a dust cloud forms. But the cloud settles, Duke stands tall. There is no sign of the woman, but for Duke, that was no matter. All that mattered was the cowering man now. Thump. Thump. Thump. That was the sound as the crime lord thunders towards the surviving man. And then, a sound rumbles from the throat of the great crime boss as he reaches the man, lower down upon him.
"I have many names, stranger."
"Some call me the "The Man Hell Coughed Up." Duke begins as he reaches out for the injured man's neck, to grip it tightly. "Others call Hell's Executor. Some even consider me the devil himself. But you?" Duke asks, trying to lift them man up by his neck, should he get a grip. He will hold him high up, for the camera to see. For any remaining members of the crowd. All will see, as he instructs the fool on his title.
"You may call me oblivion."
And Duke will squeeze, crushing the life out of the man's neck.
COMBATSYS: Duke successfully hits Chirikov with Strong Throw.
DUKE
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Chirikov 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|
The dead man walking (...crawling) keeps trying to back up as Duke goes about answering his question. He might even bump up against Duke's entourage once or twice in his feeble attmept to fall back and flee, but it is much too late for anything other than regrets as Duke snatches him up by the neck.
Duke will be able to see the fear in the man's eyes. So fearful, he cannot struggle. The ensuing brutality that follows with but a sheer flex of Duke's muscle... will this even be able to be aired on TV at all?
The agile gangster chokes lightly, almost silently, given the finality of Duke's will. No hesitation... no resistance. It is not acceptance on the young man's part, he simply cannot ever hope to resist Duke's unquestionable strength, his eyes starting to roll back into his head as his limbs go limp.
The audience of other would-be tough guys and troublemakers make it pretty clear that they aren't going to stand around and watch this happen. In fact, most of them just flee the immediate vicinity of Duke. The ones who haven't taken note of the little show of power at the docks might, unfortunately, be just foolish enough to repeat the same mistakes...
COMBATSYS: Chirikov takes no action.
DUKE
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COMBATSYS: Chirikov can no longer fight.
DUKE
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There is no joy in his eyes.
This was not pleasure. This was power. Duke was making an example of this runaway, this stray mutt. He keeps choking the man, until the pops of broken bones reaches his ears. When the man finally has his eyes go to the back of his head, as he finally goes limp... He just drops him like a rag doll. The dance fighter and the chain fighter were defeated. The fight was over.
And yet, Duke stares back towards the warehouses.
The crew begins to unpack the camera, ready to cut away. But Duke's motions thunder. Jacque pushes the producer. "Keep moving." The man states coldly. The producer stares back, eyes wide. "But that was it! That's the show! There isn't any other point; the recording is live! We were told that we were going to get a segment of him fighting two thugs-"
Jacque draws out a small handgun on the producer.
The producer puts his hands in the air, as the camera crew suddenly snap back on Duke, as the gang lord begins to approach the fleeing gangsters. Jacque speaks softly, tersely. "Duke is not done. You will film until he is done. Put it on tape; give copy of tape. Complain to Miss Cale later." Jacque puts away the pistol, as Duke seizes a cowering thug, and in a deft motion, knocks him out cold in a single blow. The main show was over, for Duke. But the fight was not over for the immortal fighter.
After all, this was still business.
Log created on 11:06:28 08/15/2012 by Duke, and last modified on 14:37:39 09/10/2012.