Pure: Round 2
For the record, i normally think that fanfiction is shit, but I love it here! You are able to build on an existing universe without butchering it! Congrats!
I understand your need for self-depercation, but sometimes it’s nice to read a quick, light, entertaining story .. and that’s just what I got with this
You bite your tongue about Schiavello!! That man spins gold when he commentates!
“”That smile would make a stripper nervous”
“He’s sweating more than Josef Fritzel on an episode of Changing Places.”
“When Kawajiri is on his game, finding a way to beat him is about as hard as finding a pubic hair at a Justin Beiber concert.”
But you get half credit for guessing Quatros.
Curious what’s your beef with him, though. I thought he was the best commentator (outside of Bas) that PRIDE had. Hell of a lot better than Ranallo, anyway.
but I’ve gotta play the self deprecating card on this one and say I think this entry is pure shite.
This was the one part that I knew I was going to struggle with because I couldn’t figure out how to segue properly. Add in the fact that I was LIT off my ass, I’m amazed this for written collected english properly.
plus, I had no idea at what point biomods like this hit the Siglerverse and if it was before/after off world colonization had begun, so I just pulled some things from my ass, tossed out Frankie’s name, and called it good.
Mike Chavello & Steven Quatros. Two of those most annoying mouth breathers since King Herod.
Great Story, athanas!
Head Coach, Wabash Wolfpack
Husband of Susan, Friend of Junkies everywhere
…I’ve got no idea who the announcers are an amalgam of, but I did want to comment that I really dig your writing style. It’s easy to hear the character’s voices and the fighters are muy machismo (rawr). Diggin Pure, fo’ sure!
Oh and as a side note, in my brain I hear Mike Quattros as the announcer kid from ‘Better Off Dead’…like Howard Cosell
“..kie Gin: It’ll Fuck You Up!”
Mike Quatros: And welcome back, fight fans, to the Francis Donovan Olivieri Memorial Coliseum here on Saturn’s moon Io. We are just moments away from tonight’s main event, a historic moment in the sport of mixed martial arts where a once retired gladiator, a man crowned champion many times over returns to the cage to prove his meddle against the new breed of fighter in a battle of styles, generations, and even eras.
Tonight, as always, I am joined by the best color commenter in the game, Bas Rogan.
Bas, we’re watching a pivotal moment for the sport. Roland Gephardt, a legend, an icon, is coming out of retirement to face a man many years his junior for nothing more than honor. What can we expect tonight?
Bas Rogan: This is an unbelievable day for mixed martial arts. You are either going to see the passing of the guard, from the days of man vs. man to the modern times of mechanical body modifications, or you will see that no amount of steel and wirings can make up for the fighting spirit of the human soul.
Quartos: Bas, many people thought it was a joke when Gephardt campaigned for this fight, saying that his time had passed by and that regardless of what he had accomplished in this sport in his prime that he just couldn’t hold up with the technology of the fighters today. But after footage of his training sessions surfaced, many of his critics seemed to suddenly become mute. Your thoughts?
Rogan: Mike, Roland is looking a kind of shredded that I don’t recall ever seeing him. I never got to see this guy fight live, but I have watched most of his library and I cannot recall a time where he looked to be in better shape. For those thinking that he is in this just for the payday, watching him throw around 350 pound men like they were children shows that he still has the strength and conditioning to make this interesting.
Quatros: But does he have the will?
Rogan: You actually have to ask this? The fact that this man is 64 years of age and is willing to step into the cage against a man in his physical prime, sporting a titanium reinforced right hand and wired synapses is proof enough to me that his will is as strong as ever.
Quatros: Right, his opponent, Lance McGillicutty, may have some thing to say in the matter.
Rogan: “Freight Train” is coming off a 4 fight winning streak, his last win coming against former #1 contender, Quyth fighter Hor’sak the Elusive, knocking him out in under 3 minutes of the first round with that vicious right hand he packs. If he wins this fight, there’s nothing between him and a shot at the GFA Heavyweight Championship.
Quatros: Alight, partner, it’s time to put it all on the line: who you taking in this match-up?
Rogan: …I’ve got nothing. I can’t see where either fighter has the edge. If you look to youth and vigor, you have to take McGillicutty. If you look to pride and spirit, you have to take Gephardt. At the end of the day, this fight is going to come down to who wants it more…
* * *
Nothing existed except the war. No thoughts swirled in his head except for those on how to defeat his opponent. Roland stepped out of his dressing room, a fire burning in his very soul he hadn’t felt in well over two decades. This was his element. This was his world.
They drilled it into his head with spar after spar after spar: circle left; take the abomination that was his left hand away from him. Don’t let him use the prosthetic fist against you. Circle, circle, always circle, then shoot. Find the angle and shoot. Drive through him. Put him on his back. Then make him suffer.
Suffer. The word repeated in his head. Hammerfists. Elbows. Straights. Make this freak realize what it took to be a fighter wasn’t what they put in you; it was what you found inside yourself.
Relentless. Savage. Fearless.
Roland trembled. Christ, when was the last time he felt this alive? Had he really retired too soon? Could he have fought these past 20 years?
Aggression. Flawless. Perfection.
Roland bounced from foot to foot, keeping his blood moving, sweat flowing, and headed towards the entry way.
Attack. Attack. Atactk.
He heard the cords of a song for the first time in 20 years, his entrance theme.
Electric. Unstoppable. Immortal.
He felt himself tense, electricity coursing through his veins. Tonight, he would show what it meant to be a man.
He stepped through the curtain to meet the rush of the crowd…
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