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Apparently, some of the people who had come forward weren't the typical Bloodbath go'ers.

It wasn't hard for Ebris to initially pay attention to the Jimbos who had bellowed like retards at him for a fight - I mean, they were really rathin' loud and pretty big boys. There was also some faggert in a dress wielding a curved piece of flimsy metal, and a squat (Ebris mentally reminded himself to punt the thing). The initial 2 were typical Gaian MMA freaks, and the other two were at least different, but only the dwarf seemed the deadly one of the two.

That wasn't the end to the clown show, though.

Seemed some sumbitches had been stalking him.

The first was a recent annoyance - that rathin' kid he had met in the Leviathan Stadium, who kept demanding 2 dollars from the bounty hunter. Of course, the punk kid didn't break from his M.O., and with a rathin' pointlessly elaborate entrance, demanded his 2 dollars. The kid was starting to rathin' creep Ebris out with his persistence. Prolly was a damn Jew, but he didn't have the nose for it. Rathin' confusing.

However, he did something that was actually pretty convenient at the moment: he was messing with MMA Jimbo #1.

A harsh grin played over Ebris' gnarled features and he called out to the kid, giving him an ultimatum that would make the both of them happy. "HEY KID! You keep that rathin' Jimbo occupied for a wee bit and I'll give ya FOUR dollars! You rathin' heard right - FOUR dollars!"

Kid would probably grod himself and happily comply, which meant that Ebris would not have to worry about someone harassin' him from behind while he dealt with what he was currently walking towards:

The rathin' blue Xeno b***h.

Ebris swore to the Golden Toilet that this chick had been stalking him ever since he met her annoying a** all the way back in that Flameblah tavern, or whatever that grodpacked place was called. What the rath did she want with him? It was obvious to the bounty hunter that a b***h needed a good, rathin' beating for all of this grod.

But first...

Thunk

"Wut!?"

Was it "Throw Grod at Ebris Day" today!?

Grunting with ever-growing-annoyance, Ebris turned and looked down at what had nailed him in the side of the head. Apparently, it was pink, rectangular and impossibly durable. Swearing, Ebris pocketed the thing and stood up, shooting daggers from his eyes at Ryke.

"You dumbass broad, you're the one with grodpacked taste! There's some good grod on this thing!" Sure, it was pink, but Ebris had filled it with some pretty sweet tunes - good bashing music. He made a note to kick her a** later.

Anywho, back to blue xeno b***h.

It seemed that she had earned the ire of MMA Jimbo #2 - and after hearing him ask her if she wanted to fight after getting nailed in the head by a 2x4, he had another rathin' idea, turning his grimace into a mean lil' smirk.

"Hey Jimbo! You gonna let that rathin' woman get away with that? Kick her pansy blue a**!"

The bounty hunter egged the guy on, stomping up towards his back, looking ready to join him in kicking her a**.

And so MMA Jimbo #2 acknowledged him, thinking Ebris was coming up to support him, thus focusing his attention on blue xeno b***h. Bad, bad, bad rathin' idea.

Calloused fingers gripped the mining pick even tighter as the bounty hunter got even closer.


First? He had challenged Ebris Dhifi to a match - a brawling match. That meant that he was entering unknown territory, a land where there was only one rule: there were no rules. The bounty scum had taken this law of fighting to heart for all his long-a** life. This Jimbo? He was used to huckin' and jivin' in an enclosed arena with enforced rules to make sure the grunting, sweating faggerts played nice with each other. I mean, rath, it was plain as the grodpacked day when you took into consideration that this guy was wearing MMA Gloves to a damn bloodsport tournament.

The hunter grew closer to his unaware prey, keeping slightly to the side as to appear he was going to move around him and not up behind him.

Second? The Jimbo proved himself to be a real moron. As said, not only did the idiot wear MMA Gloves to a bloodsport arena, he had asked the blue xeno b***h if she wanted to fight after she had nailed him right in the forehead with a rathin' 2x4. What the piss was that? Ebris never claimed to be all that smart, but he wasn't a total dumbass. However, this Jimbo clearly had been hit way too many times in the head and hadn't hit enough back. The bounty hunter normally worked for hard cash, but he had no qualms weeding out the gene pool from time to time.

Thud. Ebris shifted his path with one last step, his left. He then began to move in with his right, his whole side snapping forward and down along with his arm beginning to arc down.

Third? He turned his back on him. In what would easily be a long line of stupid grod this Jimbo has done, this would have to be the king of the dumbass moves in that long list. The idiot had turned his back on a guy that had casually murdered some other tournament competitor by smashing his head against the wall and then ripping his arm off. The guy had also initially challenged Ebris and had completely rathin' forgot about it. This was damn apparent by believing that the bounty hunter was actually supporting the guy against the blue xeno b***h and thus focusing his attention completely on her. Most dumbass move he'd ever gone done, and it'd be his last.

The movement continued to it's conclusion, both his side and arm arcing back up, driving all his force into the movement. The grip on his mining pick shifted during this, aiming for an underhanded arcing strike with the mining pick.

The target?

MMA Jimbo #2's a**.

Yeah, he was going to get a bladed mining pick shoved up so far up his a** that it'd make a horse jealous with the kind of penetration going on there. Needless to say, Ebris' move would perforate the guy's rectum, colon and intestines pretty rathin' badly.

But wait, there's more!

The bounty hunter wouldn't stop with having that grod mined. No, the move would continue for as long as he didn't meet enough resistance to stop it altogether, which would take a lot, as the mining pick was bladed under its pick segments and had a rathton amount of force behind it. This meant that he'd prolly wind up getting disemboweled all the way up a good portion of his back.

There wasn't much the guy could do to stop any of this. His attention was focused entirely on the fight with blue xeno b***h (who was now holding onto him and making it even harder to move), and as he had believed Ebris' words, he wouldn't be expected such an underhanded blow.

Yeah, it was an underhanded blow, but that was what brawling was about. There were no sissy rules to save faggerts who relied on them from untimely deaths.

The only problem with that was that Ebris was aiming for the a**, not the back - quite the big difference, in that the back could pivot downward by the hips, but not the a**. If anything, the gesture was one of complete, open invitation, which made it all the more rathin' hilarious. So, nice try, but MMA Jimbo #2 just got perforated by a mining instrument.



A brutal chuckle escaped Ebris' lips as he let go of the severed arm of the original Jimbo and grabbed a hold of the guy's pants near the belt loops. Now possessing a grip for all the leverage he'd need, the bounty hunter then began to dig the weapon further into the body, leaning down and pushing forward with all his might. It would be even messier than what it would have been before, and that equated to a much, much more painful death.

Blood began to pool around Ebris boots and was smeared all over his jeans and lower vest. At this rate, he'd be covered head to toe in the stuff.

Haha, silly b***h. Trying to sneak attack Ebris.

Problem with the little thrown knife was that the bounty scum was continually moving downward with his prey, shoving the mining pick deeper and deeper into the body. Even if it could have penetrated Ebris' thick skull (especially since it was thrown by a 19 year old girl), the knife would just glance from the skull as Ebris lowered his frame into his brutal attack, drawing a trickle of blood from the nicked skin.

It didn't even matter, though - MMA Jimbo #2 already had the mining pick shoved up his a** before the knife had thrown, which was around the time he had been bending down to grab the belt loop and then thrust all his weight down into it.

So, the idiot who tried to have a fem save his a** still died a gruesome death, having his entire rectum and beyond perforated and mutilated.

A few solid jerks, followed by a brutal yank, and Ebris freed his weapon from the corpse, slick with gore. Blue xeno b***h would be even worse - she was under the guy and would be getting bathed in the rathin' sumbitch's grod.

Ebris had planned on b***h slapping that xeno b***h around, asking why the rath she was stalking him, but this other b***h had gone done the wrong thing by attacking him.

Cold, blue eyes bored into the young frame of the kid before him, showing something that would make most people grod themselves: he was gonna show no damn mercy. At least, however, after the first warning.

"Ya best go runnin' back to yer hab and play with your dolls, kid, because you honestly have no rathin' idea what the hell you are messing with."

Honest to Throne truth. She didn't know how damn lucky she was to have gotten that warning - it was mainly due to Ebris assuming she was a dumbass rathin' kid. If she continued to be one, well, then that b***h was screwed.

The bounty hunter began to thud towards her, mining pick poised in his right hand, senses keen for any additional Jimbos who might try and mess with him. The wind that blew through the killing field that was the parking lot caused the folds of his duster to flutter around raggedly, spraying droplets of crimson all over the dirty asphalt.

Best time to get running.

Lololololol.

Rorke's little detour with the samurai, which he'd just finished gnawing on, had prevented him from getting in on any of the real action. Blood matted his beard and stained his face, his grin sadistic as he burped. Now, since he was free, he could finally add his own form of brutality to the game. Looking about, the only group still fighting were an blue girly with a HUEG GUY on top of her, or the two boys playing around. Well, Rorke liked a challenge. It added to the flavor. So, he'd start to sprint, and I mean sprint, towards Ebris, coming in from behind. Slowly strafing as he did so, Rorke would slide the mallet out from his belt and, when in range, swing the heavy thing at Ebris' right hip.

Considering the size, he could probably shrug it off, but it was going to be painful as hell and, since he was preoccupied by the alien he was mounting, odds were he wouldn't notice until it was too late.

Nasty little ankle biters, huh?