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Fight club match #3 (for me), me vs. McBilliam. Wanna have a go?
Also, I want Prozac to judge
Also, I want Prozac to judge
McBilliam I wanna fight!
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A hhgreat I have been requested again
Oke I shall judge this fight
Venue: Wedding Chapel, they where about to get married but in the first story the writer said: NO
Two Rules
1. all the basic rules count
2. in trash talk tell us a little something about your self
fighting style, weapon of choice.
good luck to both fighters
may the best man or women win
Oke I shall judge this fight
Venue: Wedding Chapel, they where about to get married but in the first story the writer said: NO
Two Rules
1. all the basic rules count
2. in trash talk tell us a little something about your self
fighting style, weapon of choice.
good luck to both fighters
may the best man or women win
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Well, I will usually use Aikido on people, however, considering this a wedding, I'll use special butt-kicking free-style on you, and maybe some cake.
Er... you... fluffy haired... man ><
Er... you... fluffy haired... man ><
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My fighting style is Ju Jitsu mixed with some Kung Fu. And just a dash of the three styles I was trained in in real life: Ching sai-do, Iso-do, and Tae Kwon Do. I may be forced to get down and dirty with some street-fighting, though.
You're going to use cake against me? Hahahaha!
And another thing: Don't mess with the fluffy hair. Chicks love it after all. I mean, look at your hair. You hardly have any because you get depressed and pull it out.
You're going to use cake against me? Hahahaha!
And another thing: Don't mess with the fluffy hair. Chicks love it after all. I mean, look at your hair. You hardly have any because you get depressed and pull it out.
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"Do you take McBilliam to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love and to hold through sickness and health?"
"No."
That was the conversation that led to this, the battle between man and wife, in the small homey chapel. McBilliam, the groom, stood on one side while VB, the bride, stood on the other, a piece of cake poised above her head. After she had said no, after rethinking her entire decision, McBilliam had gone mad. He tried to kill her parents with some form of martial arts she'd never seen before, but she had stopped him. Both were trained assassins, both knew how to handle themselves. The chapel had empied fast, leaving only a mess of rice and overturned chairs. McBilliam had struck at her after she saved her parents, he might had bruised her shoulderblade a bit more than she had hoped. She had kicked him away, and he had responded by emptying a round of bullets outside the window, killing two doves and a red balloon. VB was glad to see that he wasn't going to shoot her, although that could be the most merciful death.
Prozac, the priest, had ducked behind the alter, and was taking note of every action. VB wondered, just briefly, if maybe he was behind the whole thing, but then McBilliam looked at her, and smiled.
"We could have been happy together."
He flipped up into the air and came down in a perfect screwkick. VB side-stepped and brought her palm around, catching McBilliam in the shoulder. She hoped she bruised him as bad as he had her. He brought his leg around and caught VB's ankle. She was knocked off balance and fell down, her kneecap hitting the chair. She hit it in frustration, then stood up, surprising McBilliam. She pulled her hand back to where the palm was flat and brought it upwards, getting Bill's nose. It smooshed back and blood tricked down, showing that it was successfully broken. VB stepped back and wiped the blood off on her pants pocket, then got back into a fighting position. The cake she still held was crumbled and pressed into a ball, and VB got ready to use it. A weapon was a weapon.
"We don't have to fight, McBilliam."
McBilliam rubbed at his broken nose, his eyes watering by the force. He sniffed one, winced, then wiped at his eyes. He was going to be fine. He outstretched his arm and VB caught it then brought her elbow down it. It moved back in an almost unnatural way, then moved back without even snapping.
"Double-jointed." McBilliam informed.
He kneed VB in the stomach, and she felt the air leave her body. She dropped the cake. A sharp pain hit her cheek, then just above her chest, and a blow to the side sent VB to the alter. She hit her head on the wood (I do that alot, don't I?), but recovered quickly. She hopped to her feet and did a roundhouse, spinning McBilliam around. While his back was turned, VB brought the heel of her boot down, causing Bill to go to the floor.
"That's enough for now, darling."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Man, I drew a blank ~_~
"No."
That was the conversation that led to this, the battle between man and wife, in the small homey chapel. McBilliam, the groom, stood on one side while VB, the bride, stood on the other, a piece of cake poised above her head. After she had said no, after rethinking her entire decision, McBilliam had gone mad. He tried to kill her parents with some form of martial arts she'd never seen before, but she had stopped him. Both were trained assassins, both knew how to handle themselves. The chapel had empied fast, leaving only a mess of rice and overturned chairs. McBilliam had struck at her after she saved her parents, he might had bruised her shoulderblade a bit more than she had hoped. She had kicked him away, and he had responded by emptying a round of bullets outside the window, killing two doves and a red balloon. VB was glad to see that he wasn't going to shoot her, although that could be the most merciful death.
Prozac, the priest, had ducked behind the alter, and was taking note of every action. VB wondered, just briefly, if maybe he was behind the whole thing, but then McBilliam looked at her, and smiled.
"We could have been happy together."
He flipped up into the air and came down in a perfect screwkick. VB side-stepped and brought her palm around, catching McBilliam in the shoulder. She hoped she bruised him as bad as he had her. He brought his leg around and caught VB's ankle. She was knocked off balance and fell down, her kneecap hitting the chair. She hit it in frustration, then stood up, surprising McBilliam. She pulled her hand back to where the palm was flat and brought it upwards, getting Bill's nose. It smooshed back and blood tricked down, showing that it was successfully broken. VB stepped back and wiped the blood off on her pants pocket, then got back into a fighting position. The cake she still held was crumbled and pressed into a ball, and VB got ready to use it. A weapon was a weapon.
"We don't have to fight, McBilliam."
McBilliam rubbed at his broken nose, his eyes watering by the force. He sniffed one, winced, then wiped at his eyes. He was going to be fine. He outstretched his arm and VB caught it then brought her elbow down it. It moved back in an almost unnatural way, then moved back without even snapping.
"Double-jointed." McBilliam informed.
He kneed VB in the stomach, and she felt the air leave her body. She dropped the cake. A sharp pain hit her cheek, then just above her chest, and a blow to the side sent VB to the alter. She hit her head on the wood (I do that alot, don't I?), but recovered quickly. She hopped to her feet and did a roundhouse, spinning McBilliam around. While his back was turned, VB brought the heel of her boot down, causing Bill to go to the floor.
"That's enough for now, darling."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Man, I drew a blank ~_~
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In a small chapel on the outskirts of London, England, McBilliam and VB stood at the altar, prepared to be joined in wedlock. They had been dating for two years before McBilliam proposed to VB. Their relationship, from the perspective of an onlooker, appeared to be very loving and joyous. However, there was something dark brewing inside of McBilliam.
Inside the chapel, everyone was seated and talking quietly. McBilliam stood silently at the altar. He seemed to be in a state of confusion mixed with disbelief. Suddenly, the wedding march was played, and VB was escorted in. She took her place at the altar. The music died down, everyone was seated, and the ceremony began.
The ceremony was rather melodramatic. Most of the family and friends of McBilliam and VB seemed to be falling asleep.
Prozac, the priest performing the ceremony, was now leading McBilliam and VB in their wedding vows. Prozac turned to face McBilliam.
"Do you, McBilliam, take VB to be your lawfully wedded wife...", said Prozac.
"No," interrupted McBilliam.
The crowd gasped. VB's mother fainted.
"What did you just say?" queried VB.
"I said, 'no'" asserted McBilliam.
At that last remark, VB lunged at McBilliam, swinging a left hook. McBilliam skillfully ducked the punch while charging to the side, and he ended in VB's blind spot. As she turned to swing at him again, McBilliam concentrated, and delivered a perfectly executed open-palm strike to VB's abdomen. The force of the blow sent her body flying backwards, coming to a halt only after breaking through several tables that had been set up.
"Did that sting a little, honey?" mocked McBilliam.
By now, the crowd had evacuated the chapel. They had run out to their cars in order to flee the battle they knew would escalate into something catostrophic. The priest, Prozac, had been the first one out of the chapel.
"Why are you doing this?" said VB as she struggled to her feet.
"Why?" questioned McBilliam. "Isn't it bloody obvious?"
VB charged towards McBilliam. "Tell me!"
This sudden charge caught McBilliam by surprise. He attempted to move his hands into a blocking position, but it was too late. VB lept at McBilliam, the force of her body knocking him to the floor. As VB began to unleash punch after punch into McBilliam's skull, he could feel blood beginning to trickle out from above his eyebrow.
After about twenty-five punches, McBilliam was able to push VB off of him long enough to regain his footing. He wiped his hand across his forehead, then examined the blood that now stained his hand.
"Did that sting a little, honey?" taunted VB, mimicking McBilliam's earlier statement.
McBilliam briefly looked around at his surroundings to orient himself. Then, he motioned for VB to come towards him. He was trying to provoke her into attacking.
VB, who does not like being provoked, got extremely agitated and charged at McBilliam again.
"Maybe I'll get lucky like last time and be able to inflict some real damage upon him this time," thought VB as she raced towards her fiancee.
McBilliam's eyes narrowed as VB drew closer.
"You won't get me this time, dear. I'm ready for you," McBilliam reassuringly thought to himself.
When VB was about fifteen feet from him, McBilliam reached his right hand behind his back and grabbed one of the folding metal chairs that was leaning against the wall. He gave it a short toss into the air with his right hand, spun around and grabbed the legs with both hands, and swung it in an arc-shaped path towards VB, who was now about six feet from him.
She had no chance to react. By the time she realized what he was doing, it was too late.
McBilliam had swung the chair as hard as he physically could. He heard the satisfying "clang" of the chair careening off of VB's head. A small moan of pain escaped her lips. Her body instantly become limp, and slumped to the floor.
McBilliam dropped the chair and victoriously stared down at his fiancee's unconscious body. Thinking his victory was assured, McBilliam walked over to the window and gazed out at VB's father carrying his wife's limp body out to their car. McBilliam apparently though VB was completely unconscious.
She had only blacked out for a few seconds...
Inside the chapel, everyone was seated and talking quietly. McBilliam stood silently at the altar. He seemed to be in a state of confusion mixed with disbelief. Suddenly, the wedding march was played, and VB was escorted in. She took her place at the altar. The music died down, everyone was seated, and the ceremony began.
The ceremony was rather melodramatic. Most of the family and friends of McBilliam and VB seemed to be falling asleep.
Prozac, the priest performing the ceremony, was now leading McBilliam and VB in their wedding vows. Prozac turned to face McBilliam.
"Do you, McBilliam, take VB to be your lawfully wedded wife...", said Prozac.
"No," interrupted McBilliam.
The crowd gasped. VB's mother fainted.
"What did you just say?" queried VB.
"I said, 'no'" asserted McBilliam.
At that last remark, VB lunged at McBilliam, swinging a left hook. McBilliam skillfully ducked the punch while charging to the side, and he ended in VB's blind spot. As she turned to swing at him again, McBilliam concentrated, and delivered a perfectly executed open-palm strike to VB's abdomen. The force of the blow sent her body flying backwards, coming to a halt only after breaking through several tables that had been set up.
"Did that sting a little, honey?" mocked McBilliam.
By now, the crowd had evacuated the chapel. They had run out to their cars in order to flee the battle they knew would escalate into something catostrophic. The priest, Prozac, had been the first one out of the chapel.
"Why are you doing this?" said VB as she struggled to her feet.
"Why?" questioned McBilliam. "Isn't it bloody obvious?"
VB charged towards McBilliam. "Tell me!"
This sudden charge caught McBilliam by surprise. He attempted to move his hands into a blocking position, but it was too late. VB lept at McBilliam, the force of her body knocking him to the floor. As VB began to unleash punch after punch into McBilliam's skull, he could feel blood beginning to trickle out from above his eyebrow.
After about twenty-five punches, McBilliam was able to push VB off of him long enough to regain his footing. He wiped his hand across his forehead, then examined the blood that now stained his hand.
"Did that sting a little, honey?" taunted VB, mimicking McBilliam's earlier statement.
McBilliam briefly looked around at his surroundings to orient himself. Then, he motioned for VB to come towards him. He was trying to provoke her into attacking.
VB, who does not like being provoked, got extremely agitated and charged at McBilliam again.
"Maybe I'll get lucky like last time and be able to inflict some real damage upon him this time," thought VB as she raced towards her fiancee.
McBilliam's eyes narrowed as VB drew closer.
"You won't get me this time, dear. I'm ready for you," McBilliam reassuringly thought to himself.
When VB was about fifteen feet from him, McBilliam reached his right hand behind his back and grabbed one of the folding metal chairs that was leaning against the wall. He gave it a short toss into the air with his right hand, spun around and grabbed the legs with both hands, and swung it in an arc-shaped path towards VB, who was now about six feet from him.
She had no chance to react. By the time she realized what he was doing, it was too late.
McBilliam had swung the chair as hard as he physically could. He heard the satisfying "clang" of the chair careening off of VB's head. A small moan of pain escaped her lips. Her body instantly become limp, and slumped to the floor.
McBilliam dropped the chair and victoriously stared down at his fiancee's unconscious body. Thinking his victory was assured, McBilliam walked over to the window and gazed out at VB's father carrying his wife's limp body out to their car. McBilliam apparently though VB was completely unconscious.
She had only blacked out for a few seconds...
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Round 1: McBilliam
No doubt!
His story seemed more realistic.
also McBilliam intro was better
not bad for the new fight club newbie
VegetasBriefs you can do better then this
show him in round 2
No doubt!
His story seemed more realistic.
also McBilliam intro was better
not bad for the new fight club newbie
VegetasBriefs you can do better then this
show him in round 2
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McBilliam dropped the chair and victoriously stared down at his fiance's unconscious body. Thinking his victory was assured, McBilliam walked over to the window and gazed out at VB's father, carrying his wife's limp body out to their car. McBilliam apparently thought VB was completely unconscious.
She had only blacked out for a few seconds...
VB opened her eyes slowly, letting her view readjust before attempting to sit up. Her head was pounding and a steady ring haunted her ears, but other than that, she seemed fine.
What had happened had confused her. They were about to be married, her dream come true, but something had happened, something had changed. It was irrational. She had attempted to knock some sense into him, but it apparently didn't work. A lot of things were out of her control, and she didn't like it at all. She was always in control. But what was worse was that she didn't know why. She had some suspicions--perhaps he lost his mind--but nothing solid. She had to make him talk.
She got to her feet, her long white gown fluttering to the floor in a sea of lace. The chair used to hit her lay to the side, left without a use anymore. There was some blood on the side, but not much. It had bruised more than it cut. VB felt a rage sting at her heart, and held back tears. She wasn't going to cry over him until she learned what his motives were.
Her feet moved silently, the shoes only clicking slightly on the chapel's hard floor. McBilliam continued to stare out the window, but his ears twitched, showing acknowledgement. She smirked and went over, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. McBilliam turned, a look of surprise plastered on his face, and was met with a bloody fist. The force knocked him back, and he struck the window, sending a rain of glass to the ground below. Cool air was let into the chapel, filtering out the fight smells.
"What the..." Was all McBilliam could say before VB clutched a shard of glass, and brought it down on her beloveds arm. The wound bled deep, but VB had gone beyond caring.
"Why?" She asked, for the final time.
Bill's face twisted with pain and anger, and he brought his leg up, hitting VB square in the jaw. She reeled back, then balanced herself. Both stared each other down.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I've got the darndest writer's block, so I won't be surprised if McBilliam wins. Sorry Prozac, can't show him down this time. In fact, I only wrote to give him a little competition.
She had only blacked out for a few seconds...
VB opened her eyes slowly, letting her view readjust before attempting to sit up. Her head was pounding and a steady ring haunted her ears, but other than that, she seemed fine.
What had happened had confused her. They were about to be married, her dream come true, but something had happened, something had changed. It was irrational. She had attempted to knock some sense into him, but it apparently didn't work. A lot of things were out of her control, and she didn't like it at all. She was always in control. But what was worse was that she didn't know why. She had some suspicions--perhaps he lost his mind--but nothing solid. She had to make him talk.
She got to her feet, her long white gown fluttering to the floor in a sea of lace. The chair used to hit her lay to the side, left without a use anymore. There was some blood on the side, but not much. It had bruised more than it cut. VB felt a rage sting at her heart, and held back tears. She wasn't going to cry over him until she learned what his motives were.
Her feet moved silently, the shoes only clicking slightly on the chapel's hard floor. McBilliam continued to stare out the window, but his ears twitched, showing acknowledgement. She smirked and went over, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. McBilliam turned, a look of surprise plastered on his face, and was met with a bloody fist. The force knocked him back, and he struck the window, sending a rain of glass to the ground below. Cool air was let into the chapel, filtering out the fight smells.
"What the..." Was all McBilliam could say before VB clutched a shard of glass, and brought it down on her beloveds arm. The wound bled deep, but VB had gone beyond caring.
"Why?" She asked, for the final time.
Bill's face twisted with pain and anger, and he brought his leg up, hitting VB square in the jaw. She reeled back, then balanced herself. Both stared each other down.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I've got the darndest writer's block, so I won't be surprised if McBilliam wins. Sorry Prozac, can't show him down this time. In fact, I only wrote to give him a little competition.
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McBilliam stood looking out the window. He felt that he had the advantage in this battle. His fiancee lay on the ground completely unconscious, unable to attack. Or so he thought.
After a few moments of silence, VB began to show signs of life. She rolled over onto her stomach, and attempted to stand up. McBilliam noticed her movement, turned towards her, and began to walk towards her.
"Had enough yet?" asked McBilliam.
VB questioned "What do you mean 'Had enough yet'"?
"Be a good girl and die," taunted McBilliam.
Just as VB regained her footing, McBilliam charged towards her with one hand poised back, ready to strike. VB stepped back and leaned against one of the columns in the church. McBilliam lunged forward, throwing a right hook as hard as he possibly could. VB ducked and rolled to her right side. McBilliam's fist struck the column, blowing chunks of plaster into the air, and breaking his right hand. He was so focused that he did not even notice that it had been broken.
VB charged at McBilliam. He put up his hands to block, obviously expecting an upper-body attack. VB crouched, planted her right foot, and spun her left foot around. It collided with the back of McBilliam's shins, dropping him onto his back like a bad habit.
McBilliam quickly got into a crouching position, expecting a follow-up attack. VB performed a powerful side-thrusting kick, but McBilliam was prepared for it. He grabbed her ankle with his left hand. Using the force of the kick to his advantage, he pulled her foot towards him, dragging VB along with it. He jumped towards VB with one arm extended, effectively "clotheslining" her. VB's head struck the ground hard, breaking one of the ceramic tiles that made up the chapel floor.
McBilliam kneeled over his fiancee's body, and began to choke her. If she didn't break free soon, she would die...
After a few moments of silence, VB began to show signs of life. She rolled over onto her stomach, and attempted to stand up. McBilliam noticed her movement, turned towards her, and began to walk towards her.
"Had enough yet?" asked McBilliam.
VB questioned "What do you mean 'Had enough yet'"?
"Be a good girl and die," taunted McBilliam.
Just as VB regained her footing, McBilliam charged towards her with one hand poised back, ready to strike. VB stepped back and leaned against one of the columns in the church. McBilliam lunged forward, throwing a right hook as hard as he possibly could. VB ducked and rolled to her right side. McBilliam's fist struck the column, blowing chunks of plaster into the air, and breaking his right hand. He was so focused that he did not even notice that it had been broken.
VB charged at McBilliam. He put up his hands to block, obviously expecting an upper-body attack. VB crouched, planted her right foot, and spun her left foot around. It collided with the back of McBilliam's shins, dropping him onto his back like a bad habit.
McBilliam quickly got into a crouching position, expecting a follow-up attack. VB performed a powerful side-thrusting kick, but McBilliam was prepared for it. He grabbed her ankle with his left hand. Using the force of the kick to his advantage, he pulled her foot towards him, dragging VB along with it. He jumped towards VB with one arm extended, effectively "clotheslining" her. VB's head struck the ground hard, breaking one of the ceramic tiles that made up the chapel floor.
McBilliam kneeled over his fiancee's body, and began to choke her. If she didn't break free soon, she would die...
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well ehm
I have a problem here....
both stories lack.
McBilliam story lacks in realism...
you where about to get married, then you say this
"Be a good girl and die," taunted McBilliam
this totally ruins the mood for me
VB story lacks in action
it's like an intro, and that's about it
way to much thinking, not enough action
So I have a dilemma
so after reading both stories a couple of times
I think I'll let this round go to VB.
and hope both of you do a hell of a good job in round 3
Round 2: Vegetasbriefs
I have a problem here....
both stories lack.
McBilliam story lacks in realism...
you where about to get married, then you say this
"Be a good girl and die," taunted McBilliam
this totally ruins the mood for me
VB story lacks in action
it's like an intro, and that's about it
way to much thinking, not enough action
So I have a dilemma
so after reading both stories a couple of times
I think I'll let this round go to VB.
and hope both of you do a hell of a good job in round 3
Round 2: Vegetasbriefs