Swingblade quickly jabs me with a right hand. Sure, I stumble back a bit. In no way have I ever said that he is weak... and especially after that last hit, I don't see me calling him anything lesser of a man. He rushes in with a flurry of punches, throwing some quick haymakers that leave me immobile and restricted from blocking for a few short moments -- that is, until I throw a lightning fast flat of the foot to his sternum.

Bubba: "Hell yeah! Get 'em!"

Tina: "Aw, now Bubba, how are ya gonna just up and pick a favorite already? We gotta wait and see who's the bad guy and what not."

Miss Fay: "Now you kids quit yer bickerin'! We tryin' to watch a dang match right here!"

It's far from a match. In fact, it's more of a street fight than anything else... just as you would expect a contest to be in a trailer park. If you've ever been to a trailer park, you've more than likely seen a brawl of some form -- whether it be from a man abusing his wife and her swinging back, or just two simple white guys arguing over who is going to buy the next case of Budweisers. Just think of it the same way... with the exception of it being two highly trained wrasslers.

Fido: "WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!" *howl* "WOOF!" *growl*

Timothy: "I know, Fido. Now you just shut yer damn mouth! Yer interruptin' the fight!"

Fido: *bark*

Timothy: "Dag nabbit!"

Timothy, the owner of the dog, proceeds to punt Fido. His rib cage slams against the nearby tree trunk thus silencing him for the time being. Attention spans of the residents only last so long... so their focus on the match comes back. At this point I'm repeatedly thrusting my knee caps in to Swingo's mouth and chin area. Yes, his gums are bleeding. Yes, he has a cut on his chin, and yes, it is profusely pertruding the warm crimson liquid.

...But that causes rage in some competitors, which is what happens in this case. It's almost as if Swingblade's eyes turn bright red. He grits his teeth and rushes in at me... and even from a short distance, a spear hurts more than you think it would. The back of my skull lands on one of the jagged rocks laying on their gravel paving. My head gets light... but I can't pay attention to that right now. I don't have the time to. I have to get out of this ground and pound situation Swingo has me in.

Jason: "Holy ****! That was the greatest thing ever! That **** could even be on UFC! Hell yeah! MMA rules the ****ing EARTH! WHOOOO!"

Vivian: "Like, why are you so like... like... a potty mouth?"

Janelle: "Yeah you SO curse a lot, and you SO like that stupid fighting stuff way too much. Totally."

Roxanne: "C'mon girls, let's go get in our bikini tops! We can like SO TOTALLY be the cheerleaders! YAY!"

Jason: "Yeah, well, while you three are being skank whores, I'm going to watch this match and drink my beer. And while you're in there, grab me one of my baggies... it's time for a boost. Man, **** is gonna get so ****ing crazy tonight. I ****ing promise that ****."

They giggle and rush inside, toppling over each other to get in to Jason's room to change. He takes another gulp from his Budweiser while we watches me roll out of the ground and pound Swingblade had me in. I rapidly elbow him in an attempt to take away some of his energy and open his chin up some more. To add to it, I wrap my legs around his throat, clinch tight, and yank at his arm... twisting and turning at his wrist for added effect.

Tyrone: "Mane, if dey keep wrasslin' and **** I'ma have to pull out da tooly, ya dig?"

Miss Dot: "That's nice, dear..."

Tyrone: "What da **** you mean? It ain't nice... I'm a gangsta ya feel me? I'm a G. Straight up. Full to da limit. What da **** I look like sittin' here drankin' a motha ****in' beer wit yo old ass watchin' two dudes feel on each otha? You out yo GOT damn mind!"

Miss Dot: "Do you want pizza?"

The large black male shakes his head showing the emotion of being disgruntled. He throws back one more sip of his alcoholic beverage and shifts his eyes towards me and Swingblade, who has now found some kind of way to get to his feet and loosen the grip I had with my legs. With an apparent swift motion of a desperate action, he yanks my body up and slams it down on the ground -- the impact making me release my hold and lay flat on my back.

Jonathon: "What a bunch of queers... let's go inside and ****."

Paige: "But I'm having your baby!"

Jonathon: "Do you think I give a ****? I said let's go ****, and that's exactly what we're going to do, whore!"

Paige: *sniffle* "I can't..."

His eyes light up with fury. But now is not the time to go in to that. Right now there is a far much more worse situation about to be on hand... I have a lot to worry about, and I can't exactly pay attention to people arguing and watching me fight for my life. Apparently my former employee found a rock that is a tad bit larger than the other ones, and it has a point on it. God only knows what's about to happen to me...