Thread: Fight scene

When writing an epic 'Fight for justice' Style adventure, it's often hard to describe a fight scene, Your challenge is to write a paragraph describing either;

A) A fight between two people, include any weapons you want and setting as you see fit.
B) A fight between a group of people include any weapons you see fit (again)
C) A fight (yeah, you guessed it) between two armies.

I'll write one later and upload it myself, giving you the opportunity to laugh, because you did so much better than the person who challenged you.

Wooohooo! I love writing fight scenes! Here's one I wrote in the quick reply box in less than ten minutes!

James stood stark still as the thugs circled him, armed in various manners. One was spinning a long length of metal chain while others were armed with knives and brass knuckles. James saw them sneering and jeering at him and slowly lowered himself into a better fighting stance. Boris lounged in his chair, a few metres back from the fighters, and frowned down at James,
"You think you are worthy to enter the gang? Well you're going to have to face the other hopefuls. Unfortunately they have decided to team up on you, bad luck olf boy." Boris said in his self satisfied voice. James laughed,
"Come on then..." he stuck his middle finger up at one of the thugs, "Ya queers."
The thug took the bait and came charging at James, his knife in hand. James counter charged, dashing into the thug, his shoulder connecting with the other man's gut before he threw the man over his back as fast as he could, sticking his tongue out as the man flew over his head. The man hit the ground with a large thud and a groan. James spun round on the spot before picking the metal pole up from off the ground, he spun it around in his hand before slamming the end down onto the fallen thug's face, giving rise to another groan. James grinned,
"Any more?" he asked patiently.
The thugs rushed him and he smiled before lashing out with the pole as fast as he could. The first hit broke the man's nose and caused him to fall over. The second hit was more of a collection of hits and involved the pole being spun in a wide arc, hitting more than a dozen people before the momentum finally ran out from the attack. Boris nodded his approval,
"Good use of surroundings." he said with a small smile. James turned to the only man left standing, the guy with the chain. The man lashed out with the chain. James managed to dodge by a few inches and the ground was broken up from the force of the blow. James dodged another of these attacks before blocking a third with the pole, letting the chain wrap around it. James nodded and threw the pole at the man, grinning when it hit him in the gut. James pressed his advantage and ran up and almost pasted his opponent, grabbing his head at the last minute before slamming his face onto James' knee. Blood exploded from the man's nose and he keeled over.
James held his arms out,
"Am I in then?"

Ding ding, the bell rang in the distance. Johnny took one final sip of water and spat it on the canvas. He rose slowly as his corner man took the stool. Everything seemed distant as Johnny focused solely on his opponent across the ring. He approached the other man, there would be no tapping of gloves this round. Paul 'the predator' stepped forth hands raised, his face bloodied and twisted with rage. Johnny thought quickly if thats what Paul looks like, I must look like a corpse, having been punished the last round.

Paul stuck a stiff jab in Johnny's face, knocking his head back; a cross and hard left hook followed. Shucking the cross Johnny bobbed under the hook. A devastating shot to Paul's liver caused him to grunt. But before Johnny could land another shot, Paul wrapped him up. The ref stepped in and separated them.

Johnny took the opportunity to take a few deep breaths, but Paul was approaching quickly. Paul fired off three quick jabs pushing Johnny back into the ropes. Sweat stung Johnny's eyes and he covered his face from Paul's onslaught, hard right, left hook, then a body shot of his own. Johnny grunted and spun himself off the ropes, jab, cross, jab. Paul took the full force of these punches, apparently too tired to hold up his hands. Johnny saw his window and threw a sweeping left hook. Reading the shot before it came Paul ducked under it and fired an uppercut like a bat out of hell. Johnny's head shot back and his world swam. Stumbling back he choked slightly on the blood pouring down the back of his throat.

Paul had a maniacal smile on his face as he saw Johnny's obvious pain. It was now his turn for the looping hay maker, but Johnny managed to tie him up. Before the ref could step in this time Paul threw a quick, malicious head butt and pushed Johnny back. Johnny felt the blood and sweat mixing on his forehead and running down his cheek.

Paul threw another looping right hook, and Johnny just made it under in time. Making one last stand Johnny threw all of his weight into an uppercut, then watched as 'the predator' hit the ground with a thud. The ring was swarming with people the second the ref counted ten.

It was Johnny's day.

These are pretty good...is this still going on? This seems made for me.

just go ahead and post i'd say

As we travel down the valley, peasants rise from their stooped postures in the fields and watch us suspiciously. We have to cut across the field to reach the Great River on the far side of the trees. Up ahead, Kai reaches into the breast of his kimono. The wind is whipping his long blonde hair as it shines against the setting sun. He pulls out the compass wrapped around his neck, the sun gleaming against it's surface. We come to the end of the dirt path, the peasants have not gone back to work. They're covered from head to toe in tunics and veils, so that only their eyes are visible.The sun slips behind the mountains and the shadows stretch out over the valley. We come to the edge of the field and stop. Kai calls out a greeting to the peasants, who say nothing, and coldy stare. Kai's eyes flash in indignation as he leads us into the field purposefully stepping upon the rows of crops.

As the leader, Kai focuses straight ahead with the others following suit, not daring to turn around. But, I am the last one in the line and tempation succumbs me. For once, the peasants turn their hateful gazes from us and look at each other. An unspoken sentiment has been made. One by one each peasant raises their sithes. Dread floods my body, drowning my lungs, my tongue. I cannot speak, but watch as they lift their curved blades into the night sky. There is a low rumble and at first it sounds as if earth has cried out. Enraged chanting howls from their beings. I look to Kai, beckoning him to turn around. Am I the only one who can hear this? Everyone's shoulders tense, the muscles in their necks spasm, just wanting so badly to turn around out of pure curiousity. But, that is a sign of weakness. One must always follow the leader.

And then they charge. Hovering above the crops, their robes billow in the now cool air. They have no feet, nor face. Just eyes... hateful bloodthirsty quivering eyes that swallow me whole leaving me breathless, unable to speak. Kai's ignorance shall surely kill us all. They're coming fast now. One peasant has me in his sights and holds my gaze, hypnotizing me. I halt feeling my clan slip away from me walking farther and farther, not even realizing that I'm not...

The peasant waves his arms and I am drawn into the air, suspended into a magnetic force that pulls me towards him. I collide against his chest. Spinning me around, he forces me to watch my clan. Inside I'm screaming, dying, begging them to turn around. The peasants float above each head of my clan, picking out their victim. The sithes are poised. All of the sudden, Kai looks up just as a sithe begins to fall, crashing towards his skull. He murmurs the words of our forefathers, dispelling the dark entity. The peasants burst into flames then fall as ashes, raining upon my clan's heads and I fall into a mound of ash, my skin black and broken. My closing eyelids frame Kai's face, his grave mistake.

Josh was seated on the couch next to Harry, and on the chair infront of them, Nathan.

"And then I told her 'Don't come back. Well you can come back, but don't expect me to forgive you.' And do you know what? She came back, and I didn't forgive her! That's what she gets," Harry was having the best of times. He shifted his weight from one side of his bum to the other, sitting on that hard kitchen chair was difficult.

Just as the 3 teenagers had finished their short laughing session, there was a knock at the door. "I'll get it," said Josh. The other two boys sat in silent as they watched Josh walk to the front door from their view. He unlocked the door and opened it, and from what Nathan saw was a fist, attached to an arm collide with Josh's face, Josh collapsing on the ground. Harry and Nathan buth jumped up in unison to run over there to see who the attacker was.

They should have know. Mo-hawk Mason, and his 2 friends, Hunter, and Lou. "Hey, what a coincedence. You two are here as well. Maybe you guys would like to come outside, so we can settle this, 3 on three. I think it's a bit more fair-er than me and mah boys against ol' Joshy, here, don't you agree?" Josh was back on his feet, the back of his hand up to his split lip.

Nathan heard a slight sound coming from behind him, so he turned around to see if Josh was up, just as he charged straight at Mason, the two ending up on the pavement, taking blows at each other's heads at every opportunity they got. Harry jumped Lou, smashing his face multiple times against the brick wall of the house.

Nathan was already spazzing out on Hunter, who had just tried to take a swing at him, but missed. Josh, his face with smears of blood, was now on top of Mason, smashing his head against the pavement while his opponent struggled to free himself. He continued the fight until there was no longer a struggle from Mason, just a limp body - Josh rolled him over onto his back and by the looks of it - a broken nose.

Meanwhile, Hunter and Lou were being out smarted by Harry and Nate, the two highschool footballers. Finally, the Mo-hawk's posse exchanged glances to confirm they're next move. RUN!

They bolted, and Josh yelled after them "That's what you get for trashing the gym! The janitor won't be happy. Yeah, you run, bitches!"

Justice. *sigh*

Oops, it posted twice. Oh well, here are 2 random sentences for you.

The soviet Tanks rumbled through the hills seeking out resistance fighters, Gordi and his men hid behind the trees and bushes waiting for the massive vehicles to get closer to the forest.

"ready your RPG's" yelled out Gordi to his men who were a motley bunch of ragtag misfits.. They all followed Gordis instructions and started loading rockets into their bazookas..

Gordi gave the silent sign language for his men to attack and they rushed out of the forested area and started firing on the closest tanks with their bazookas.. The rockets thundered out of their turrets and 3 nearby tanks were hit with fearsome explosions which lit up the evening sky..

"For Avalom!" sceamed Gordi "For freedom!"

The remaining tanks began firing back with machine gun fire and several resistance fighters were mowed down by bullets.

"Retreat!" screamed Gordi who did not wish to see more casualties.. The fighters followed instructions and started running back under cover of the foliage of the forest trying to avoid the hell fire that the soviet tanks were laying apon them..

A few tanks had been destroyed.. It had been a productive day for the resistance..but Gordi had lost 7 men In this skirmish.. There was a shadow in his heart..

A U. S. Revolutary War era fight b/w two armies (fictional)

The sun was just about starting to rise. It was a cool morning, the two armies were now ten miles apart and the soldiers were awake eating breakfast. At both camps the tents were still pitched, and strewen amoung them were camp fires with soldiers holding frying pans over the flames. Some talked casually while others cooked in silence, both armies were aware of the others' prescence and the demeanor of the troops was thus reflected. On one side of the camp there were cannons their behemouth force and sound was now dormant and as they were idly placed by the trees. On another part of the camp were the horses, unlike the lifeless cannons they were moving about and made noises as they ate. Apart from all the infantry, cannons and the horses was yet another part of camp whose larger tents contained maps, paper, books, and the generals who were discussing the events that were to follow in the day.

The sun now is much higher. The two armies are in formation and approaching eachother and the drowsiness of the morning has been replaced with readiness and focus for some but for others uneasiness and strain. The army appoaching from the north has landed ashore the previous day while the army from the south is defending. Despite the attacking armies scouts the defending army has a much better understanding of the land, while the attacking army has more calvary and fewer cannons. The defending army has more troops but are not as experienced or as well trained.

Loud almost simultaneous cracks of thunder resonates from the defending army and a flurry cannonballs hurl their way down the slight incline to the attacking troops. The attackers continue thier treck as commanders at the front and sides muster thier troops along.

(I have to go, I didn't notice the time when I started, maybe someone else can finish this. Enjoy what's written.)

The Lawman strode into the bar, his eyes sweeping the bar. His eyes settled on a thug with a gas mask around his neck and a scar on his left cheek.
"I'm looking for a man by the name of Sharp Sergei!" He said in Ukrainian accented Russian The men around the thug with the scar glanced at him sideways. They went for their guns. The ringleader, Sharp Sergei pulled out a Russian-made Uzi clone.A dancing girl screamed. The Lawman swung around and loosed off three shots from each of his always ready revolvers. Two of the hooded bravos fell to the floor and stayed still. Four more mercenaries remained, two grabbed up compact assault rifles and sprayed the area where The Lawman had previously been. He ducked over the table and fired several shots. One of the rifleman fell in a bloody shower. The Lawman leaped up and swung weapons in an arc. The mercenaries stood up from behind a cluster of overturned tables. Sergei Gave a little nod to The Lawman. The man next to him, The Black Cossack fired both barrels of his shotgun and made contact. The Lawman was propelled out of the glass window and deposited in the street. A man by the name of Ironsight Daniil ran up and pulled The Lawman out of harm's way. A cordon of soldiers in Russian armor stood in front of the bar and readied their AK-74's.
"Thanks a lot Lawman, we needed you to lure Sergei out." The Lawman coughed and shrugged, and almost as soon wished he hadn't.

This is taken from a slightly longer version I've posted on other forums.
While the stories posted are meant to be imagined, this actually happened to me, along with family and friends, at the tail-end of summer last year.

Enjoy.


Almost as soon as I’d sat down; my phone went off. It was Kev. I picked up expecting it to be a conversation about what just happened; what you think of that then?
“It was jokes, but I don’t suppose you could come back down could you?”
Ahh na mate, not tonight
“It’s just that the Arab’s are stirring trouble, they insulted the Priest.”

As soon as I heard the Arab’s had had a go at the Priest; my reluctance to go back down soon changed. The Priest he was on about was Father David. He’s one of the nicest guys I’ve ever known, and for someone to so much as insult, let alone push him around, made me deeply mad.

“They did what? I’ll be there in a minute”
“Bring your kosh”
“Alright”

A kosh, also known as an asp, is a weapon I kept under my bed; it’s basically an extendible metal baton which is used by the British police. My brother had brought it back from the Czech Republic some years earlier.

I ran up stairs and took it out of its box, placing it between my belt and jeans, covering it with my t-shirt. I whistled for my dog, Eddy, and walked quickly back down to the club. I arrived to find Kevin outside waiting for me, he explained what had happened:

The club has a policy that the music being played in the hall must be turned off by 11pm. It’s not some petty rule, it’s a law stated by the local council to keep the near by residents happy. Father David had gone in at 12pm and asked some of them men there would they wrap it up as they were well over the time limit, reasonable enough right? Instead of just agreeing, one of the men decides to push Father David repeatedly, hurling various insults at him as well as threatening to “smash his face in”.

Myself and Kevin went inside to just outside the bar door to scope out the current situation. I handed the kosh to Kevin in the toilets as I didn’t want to use it, preferring to do them in bare handed. Father David then appeared, simply saying that there had been some “trouble earlier, and that he was now going to go home” (he lived in a parish home right next door to the church). After sussing out the numbers of the men, numbering roughly 8; Kevin spotted the main guy, the one who’d earlier pushed the Priest. He was in the Kitchen cleaning up, along with some others. Kevin didn’t even need to point him out; simply by looking at him I could see what a smug looking bastard he was. He was around 6 foot with jet black hair, heavily gelled wearing a buttoned up shirt. I didn’t take much notice of the other men, but they all had similar looks and builds.

Kevin and I discussed how to handle the situation, whether to do him right there or wait. I wanted to simply rush into the Kitchen and smash his head in, but Kevin, as it turned out; wisely, convinced me to come outside with him and to call down some other lads. We went outside, crossed the road and sat on a brick wall opposite the hall. After a few calls it wasn’t looking too good; everyone was either too far away or we couldn’t get through to them. I remember that my cousins were drinking in a near by bar, Reid’s, but it was on lock down and I didn’t have their phone numbers. I did have my brothers though, Neil. I called him up and luckily he was drinking in a pub not too far away, roughly a 15 minute walk. After explaining what had happened; he said he'd make his way down, all we had to do now was wait. The anticipation was unbearable; my dog Eddy went stern and concentrated, most likely sensing the adrenaline.

The main guy, whom we came to nickname Mohammed, came outside momentarily to speak to someone in a car. I suggested again to jump him right there, but Kevin advised against it, convincing me to wait for my brother. After roughly ten minutes of rambling to myself about how disrespectful Mohammed had been, and how this can’t be let to slide; we spotted my brother walking down the hill. The adrenaline started to spur up in my legs and arms. He came down to where we were standing and I quickly explained again what had happened and how we had to do him over, stressing how much I wanted him taken down. All we had to do was to go into the kitchen from the outside access. After less than a minutes speak my brother smiled, and drunkenly said “alright, but let’s make it quick”.

That was all I needed. We started charging across the road, I led, with my brother and Kevin only a few steps behind. I entered the Kitchen, no one was there, I heard my brother asking from behind “where the fuck is he?” I didn’t answer, I simply busted through the doors to the hall looking for Mohammed. There he was, sweeping up, he looked up from the floor at me, our eyes connected and I said something along the lines of “attack a Priest will ya”. I near ran at him and punched him as hard as I possibly could, putting all my weight behind it, my right fist landing cleanly on the top of his jaw and cheek. I saw his face crinkle up in shock and pain, he stumbled to the left, I moved over with him and threw a left, then another right. Then it all kicked off, utter chaos. The adrenaline kicked in completely, taking over my body. All sound was cut off, all I could see were faces, all I could feel was anger. Every vain in body was pulsating as my nails dug into my palms from clenching my fist so hard. The next thing I knew there was three guys piled on my back and front. I distinctly remember someone trying to rugby tackle me from behind and, managing to turn around, bear hugging his waist, lifting him up then throwing him in a sort of spinning motion around in front of me; him going into another enemy. I then laid off a few punches on various other people, while throwing one of these combos a woman came behind me and managed to rip my t-shirt clean off my back. It was a strange moment, as the shirt came off; I felt myself smile. All the while slowly moving to the right hand corner of the hall, where, just my luck, the chairs were stacked. At some point one of the party goers, a man I came to refer to as The Suit, simply due to his attire; decided it would be a good idea to pick up a metal chair and repeatedly bash me over the head with it.

Eventually my brain located where this dull thudding pain was being delivered from. I turned and saw him with the chair above his head, I charged at him taking another hit on the head in the process. As I began to feel the warm sensation off blood streaming down from the top of my head and onto my neck; the Suit had the chair above his head, ready to deliver another blow, I took this opportunity to attack. I held the chair with my left hand and threw my right with a good bit of force, hitting him around the eye. The chair dropped to his chest area and I again landed a right through the metal work of the chair. My arms were then held from behind, allowing the Suit to hit me twice more with the chair cleanly on the top of my head but I managed to force my way forward and began landing repeated head butts to his face, seeing the flash of blood coming from his nose, hearing myself saying to him “I’m getting you, you cunt”.

Eventually my arms were freed and I was able to clinch the Suit and land a knee to his forehead. After that he was pretty much out of commission. The next thing I saw and heard was my brother shouting at me to get out, as the Police were well on their way. We both forced our way out of the crowd and outside the hall and began running up the road. We’d run only a few steps when I noticed Kevin wasn’t with us. “Shit, Neil, wait; Kevin’s still in there, we gotta get him!” At that we turned and ran back in. As I came up to the glass doors I could see Kevin wrestling with two men; the Poet (reference to his shaggy hair and clothing style) and Mohammed.

I charged in shouting “get off my fucking mate” – I punched and pushed them off Kevin till he was able to stand up. He would later tell me that he had an out of body experience while wrestling with the two, he felt himself fall backwards, and knowing that we was going on the floor said to himself “well, this is it, I’m dead” – then referring to hearing my shouting as “Never been more happy to hear your voice”. Me and Neil forced the crowd back with a barrage of punches, kicks and pushes. We pulled Kevin outside and again began running, and then Kevin shouted “wait! Stephen’s still in there.” Once again we charged back in, but before we reached the doors my brother said “we need fucking weapons.” Kevin then pulled out the kosh, handing it over to my brother. Neil extended it, with a determined force. I looked around and spotted a transit van right next to the entrance, I looked in momentarily and spotted a white bucket roughly 30cm’s high and the width of my hand. I picked it up, whilst doing it I heard myself giggling saying “I’m getting me a bucket” – weird, hey. We crashed through the doors with Kevin leading.

We surged the crowd of men back looking for Stephen, I spotted him at the entrance to the bar so I reached over and grabbed him by the shoulder, yanking him out. I then looked around, spotted the poet and fucked the bucket right in his face, it popped with this white powder covering his face and his ugly wife next to him, with me shouting “Have that you cunt.” The next thing I saw will forever be lodged in all of our brains who were there that night, and laughed about for years to come; with all of us heading to the door, I looked back to see my brother with the kosh swinging above his head, facing a crowd of the enemy shouting “GET BACK YOU FUCKING PRICKS, GET BACK!” That image has been engraved on my memory; it was nothing short of surreal.

As I ran to the front door, who did I see trying to lock the doors? None other than Mohammed himself. While running at him I shouted something along the lines of “Outta the way you fucker” He leant down in an attempt to tackle me, but I put all my weight into a shoulder barge, connecting with his neck, sending him stumbling back into a large radiator. All those years of rugby had to be good for something hey. I landed a quick punch to his face then ran out. We began running up the road to make our escape, and upon hearing the sirens getting closer and closer my brother shouted “SPLIT UP” – I then heard a loud bang, my brother flinging the kosh over a fence.

Neil cut off up a near by road while Kevin ran into the estate across the way. Stephen was slightly in front of me, I shouted “Quickly, to my house”. We ran up the road in a near straight line, a squad car gained on us and we only managed to avoid it by me shouting to Stephen to duck behind cars, with myself doing the same. We ran up the hill while crouching behind the cars for cover and as I saw the squad car go off in the distance; I shouted to Stephen to run as fast as he could. We pelted it up the road eventually reaching my house. I threw the keys in the door and as soon as I stepped in the exhaustion hit me.

The come down from the adrenaline was intense, barely being able to breathe. I turned off all the lights and we went into the kitchen to get a drink and check for any damage. It was then I realised how covered I was in blood, my whole front was drenched along with my back. The blood was pouring out of the back of my head, so I pressed a towel down on the cut, and then disinfecting it with whiskey. Eventually it clogged and I was able to keep the blood at bay using a black bag full of tissue paper. I checked Stephen for any wounds; his was fine; just a slightly ripped t-shirt and a right fist swollen to double its size from hitting people so hard. I cleaned up the blood and put on a new t-shirt, then sat down at the dining room table, staring at my phone in hope of getting word from the others, any sort of sign they were ok. Me and Stephen waited and waited. Eventually my phone beeped, a text from Kevin in a very basic code: alright mate, you out tonight? – I replied with simply: come to mine. After 10 minutes he arrived, running across the lawn with one behind him.

As I opened the door I expected to see my brother behind him, but it was Gray. For a second I wondered what he was doing there, had he even been at the fight? The image then flashed into my head of him near my side during the fight, laying out someone coming at me with another chair. The gratitude I felt was no doubt intense, for anyone to save me from a potentially lethal shot; thoroughly deserves my debt and eternal gratitude. He’d hit the guy so hard the ring he was wearing broke. We all sat down and slowly I gathered their version of events:

As we came in; we all got branched off into the four corners of the hall; my brother and Kevin fighting off somewhere to the left, me fighting in the right, and Stephen out in the lobby. I’d like to point out now that Stephen was only 13 at the time, and for anyone that age to not only stand up and fight, but to take on numerous fully grown men, hold his own, and beat them down; there are simply no words of how proud I felt of him. Kevin’s experience was that at some point during the fighting Mohammed managed to snatch the kosh from his hand, but Stephen hit him so hard that he dropped it, it extending in the process and Kevin then going berserk with it; swinging it liberally at people’s knees, back, heads, shins – any damm place. One thing that made me very happy was that he managed to land a full force hit over Mohammed’s head with the kosh as I wrestled him, with him screaming out in pain. He also distinctly remembers my brother being hit with a broom, him running over, grabbing the broom in mid-swing; allowing my brother to lay off a satisfying amount of shots to the Poet. As for how he escaped; he ran into the estate, jumping into a large heavy duty bin and simply waiting out the police, well worth enduring the smell to avoid arrest.

While we sat and laughed about what had just happened; I couldn’t help but worry over my brother, where was he, was he ok, should I call, could that ringing get him found by the police?

Eventually the lads decided it would be safe to make their way down the road where a ride was waiting, we shook hands and they made their way off. I turned off the all the lights and sat in deep anticipation of word from my brother. Ten minutes passed, twenty, thirty, and forty. My phone then began to ring, private number, I answered expecting it to be Gray or Kevin checking up on me. It was Neil asking where I was, a surge of joy rushed through my body. I told him I was home and that everyone was alright; I heard him sigh with relief, he then said he’d be home in about ten minutes. I sat down drinking a pint of water feeling exhausted. Eventually my brother came in, with a slightly bloodied nose, but otherwise ok. He’d managed to escape the police by hiding in a driveway, behind some sort of fence; explaining that we’d narrowly missed the police and that at least 8 squad cars/vans had turned up. After discussing what had just happened, with me apologising for getting him involved, and him straight away telling me not to be stupid; we cleaned up and both went to our bedrooms and went to bed. For about 10 minutes I lay there thinking of what had just happened, smiling all the while. I then drifted off into one of the most satisfying sleeps I’d ever had.

The next day the cuts on my head had healed up relatively well, a scab growing up over night, preventing the blood from coming out anymore. (It's left two large scars on the back of my head though) I walked down to the shops, located just across from the Church to be greeted by the shop keeper who explained he'd seen me running up and down the road, and couldn't stop laughing. I crossed the road and walked along the fence where I suspected the kosh would be; with a bit of luck I managed to locate it. Kevin had obviously not been lying when he told of his use; the kosh had so many marks on it, that its black coat on the metal had near been completely stripped to its original silver, along with a few dent marks at the tip of it. Once I got home I rang around to everyone to check up, making sure no one had been nicked in the mean time, or any serious injuries. After laughing over the night before; Kevin explained that people who’d witnessed the fight would later tell him that two of the pricks were hospitalised; a very satisfying feeling indeed. One must have been Mohammed, the blow he took with the kosh no doubt being very painful. I'd like to think that maybe that other one was the Suit, paying for his use of a chair.

In the next few days I would pick up various bits of information about the night, one that made me laugh quite hard was that of Desmond, Kevin's 11 year old brother, running around with a casserole dish, whacking the knees and shins of the bastards.

The greatest feeling I had from that night was the part I’d missed completely, which I was later to be indulged by one of the witnesses: that as I was fighting in the corner; my dog Eddy was by my side the whole time, charging at anyone coming near me, lunging at anyone he could. From that day on I stopped seeing Eddy as merely a dog, and instead; a friend.

Fight? Gotta have idiots in costumes and silly names. Obviously.

(note: this takes place on top of a thirty story hotel in a big fictional city.)

"So you dared show up?" The Valkyrie mocked.. "I don't know if I should be impressed by your courage or concerned by your stupidity."
"We can do this the easy way or the hard way," Lady Justice said without raising her voice or changing the tone. She looked at her opponent and slowly drew her sword. She pointed the sharp end on the ground and leaned casually on the hilt.
"You know you can't win, Valkyrie. Which will it be? Do you come quietly, or do I have to kill you? I prefer the first, but make no mistake. I will kill you if I have to."
The Valkyrie just laughed and drew her own sword. "If it's a fight you want.... it's a fight you'll get. Guess you can say Justice will be served. She will be served her own butt on a plate."
"Last chance," Lady Justice said calmly.
"Bring it on," The Valkyrie said and let out a battle cry. She charged towards Lady Justice with her sword ready to strike, but Lady Justice didn't move at all.

If someone had seen her, it would have appeared she didn't notice the other woman running towards her at all.
Lady Justice quickly raiser her sword in the last second and took a quick step to the left. Her sword elegantly parried Valkyrie's sword upwards and continued in a full circle, striking Valkyrie's hand on the way down.
"Son of a...!" the Valkyrie started, but bit her teeth together. Blood ran down her wrist, but she didn't care. "Damn luck..."

Lady Justice didn't move at all, just stood there leaning on her sword and looked at something in the distance apparently only she could see.
"You think that scares me?" The Valkyrie mocked. "Fight like a human instead, if you dare!"
Lady Justice apparently didn't hear her or notice her, and still didn't move. The Valkyrie quickly raised her sword to strike again, and Lady Justice raiser her sword faster than even the Valkyrie could see. One moment she was just standing there, the next Valkyrie's sword was halfway across the roof.

"Give up?" Lady Justice asked casual. If Valkyrie hadn't known better, she would have said she was bored.
"That's it!" The Valkyrie shouted angrily and charged. Lady Justice held her sword ready to strike, but the Valkyrie made a quick step towards the left, then dashed to the right and rammed her shoulders into Lady Justice's stomach. Both crashed hard into the roof, and the Valkyrie used the opportunity to punch Lady Justice as hard as she could in the face with a fist. She managed to hit her three times, but Lady Justice managed to parry with her right hand and pushed as hard as she could with the left. The Valkyrie lost her balance, and for a few seconds, the two of them laid next to each other, not quite knowing what they were doing or who had the upper hand...

Both of them looked at Lady Justice's sword. It was almost within reach, but the Valkyrie's sword was not. Whoever got the sword first would have the upper hand and might win the fight. The two women quickly got up to their knees and dashed towards the sword...

(so who reaches the sword first? Lady Justice? The Valkyrie? Both? Someone else? Vote now!)