Friday Fight Night

A cheer went up through the night. Any other day of the week, the unsuspecting warehouse would have been silent as a tomb, but no, not this night. Tonight was fight night. Tonight was the night when the men of Coruscant shook off their shirts and shoes, pulled up a barstool and drunk themselves into a coma. Fight night at the Kaos Klub was one of the most heavily attended sporting events in the whole of the lower city, and not without reason. For a meager entrance fee, each visitor was treated to a real visual feast.

After a warm up fight or two by some amateurs, the local luminaries of shock boxing donned their gloves and got ready to scrap it out. There were all sorts of matches, from one on ones to all out free for all orgies of testosterone, that could last anywhere from a minute to two hours, all depending on the stamina of the fighters involved. Customers regularly got so drunk that they too entered the fights. Coming to blows with professionals was a painful experience, but there was no love lost – what happened in the ring stayed in the ring, and it wouldn’t really have been a night at Kaos if you didn’t pick up a bruise or two. At least, that’s what Johnny Graves always said.

“And there’s another stunner from the Coffin Crew – how do these boys do it!”

The sound of the announcer’s voice boomed through the overhead speakers, but the fighters heard nothing of it. Two newcomers to the shock-boxing scene, recently arrived from Corellia, were currently loosing in a tag-team match up against scene veterans, the Graves Brothers. Johnny and Nero had been (or so they said) virtually raised in the ring, and it showed in their fighting. They moved in well-practiced unison, knowing one another’s intentions without need for words to be spoken. It was this honed skill combined with their outrageous showmanship that had earned them a fan following amongst the regulars at Kaos, and that prompted the roar of applause that followed their inevitable victory over the visiting team.

The referee stepped into the centre of the ring, over the fallen bodies of the losers, and held the hands of Johnny and Nero Graves high into the air. The oddball pair looked as though they would have been more at home in a circo-troupe than a boxing ring, but they did their job well, and shouted just as loud as the crowd around them as they exited the ring – all of their cuts and bruises forgotten, as adrenaline pumped through their veins. Through high-fives and pats on the back, they found their way to the bar, where two tall drinks were waiting for them.

“We’re taking a fifteen minute break now folks, but don’t go away, as the Graves boys will be back for more action soon in the Kaos Klub’s infamous all or nothing free for all!”

Johnny grinned, lifting his glass to his brothers. “Not long, eh? We better get started.”

Nero was one of those guys that did'nt speak an awful lot, his facial expressions and body language said it all to the person infront of him. Johnny, this time could tell that something was wrong with his partner, he looked angry and disgruntled, like he had been hit in the face to many times, infact, this was just the problem.

' That goddamned bastard whacked me in my old wound bro, took me a few moments to shake myself free, lucky i tapped you in!' Nero rubbed his jaw lightly remembering the fight with the Jezz Brothers a few months back, Roberto Jezz had nearly knocked Nero clean out with a stool in a Hardcore match, lucky Johnny had been there to pick him up.

Nero, in all honesty was not looking forward to the 'All Out' in a few moments time, he was looking for a relaxing time back at the Motel, watch some Roller Ball and watch the up coming match the Cheggs versus the Growling Lupines on YUPN.

Taking a sip of his juice, Nero was not a drinker of alcohole, he contemplated tactics. ' Whats the game plan, then John?'

Once again, words weren’t necessary. “We do this next fight proper like, wipe the floor with those kids in twenty minutes max, then haul back to the motel in time for the Cheggs match.”

Both brothers grinned, and took a long swig of their drinks. Unlike Nero, Johnny was inclined to drink like a fish. He would not have been surprised if on analyzing his blood doctors found that their was a higher percentage of alcohol in their than actual blood. He didn’t seem to ever actually get drunk though, but instead remained in a perpetual state of adrenaline-fuelled exhilaration, always anticipating the next fight, a total combat junkie.

A barfly bumped into Nero, spilling half of his drink across the bar floor. Johnny, with a mouth loud enough for the both of them, barked an “OI!” before seizing the now deathly pale drunk by the collar. The sight of the gloves that covered Graves’ hands was, alone, enough to send any man running. They packed quite a punch, emitting a surge of electrical current on impact, at random intervals. “Watch where you’re going, you stupid sod!”

Nero, who had recovered from the knock sprang to his feet, this was something Nero had never stood for and Johnny knew it, some ponsey little bastard knocking HIS drink over? No. Spinning on his heal, Nero drew back his fist and smashed the guy in the jaw with his gloved fist.

A collective 'AWWW' came from the watching patrons as the drunkard flew from Johnny' hand and flew across the room. With that an audible crack came from the mans face, something and obviously snapped.

' You little bastard!' Nero roared as the man landed face first against the floor, dead or knocked out, noone quite knew.

'Five minutes till the main 'All Out' match, please get yourselves seated as we wait for the biggest match of the year!' Nero's face tightned visualy.

The Jezz brothers would be fighting in this one, and last time, the Jezz brothers had beaten the Graves brothers, the Jezzes were the faves to win, johnny however, had other plans in mind.

It was weird to think it, but it had become something of a ritual to get into a pre-fight fight. As Nero shook out the hand he’d just floored the drunk with, Johnny shot all those watching a typical ‘who wants to go next?’ glare. Through the course of the night he had been getting steadily more and more agitated, as the fight with the Jezz brothers loomed ever closer. He and Nero had heard nothing but taunts and jeers about how this fight was going to be nothing more than a repeat of their previous encounter, but – as his brother knew – Johnny wouldn’t let that happen again.

At the sound of the announcement that the fight was soon to start, Johnny downed the dregs of his glass, slamming it onto the counter top with such force that it was a miracle that it did not shatter. “Alright then, you ready for this?”

'No'

Nero simply said still staring at the fallen drunkard. Blood was pouring from the mans mouth and nose and he was motionless. The crack had probably been from the man jaw bone which looked loose upon his face horribly. Through Neros white t-shirt you could see the bulging muscels.

Nero was the tank of the two borthers while Johnny was the quickyone, the one with the speed and tactics. The two were an awsome team but the Jezz brothers were something else. They knew martial arts and had trained in many forms of weaponry, the Graves brothers had lost to them twice in a row.

' What can i say? Julian Jezz is not my most prefered oponant for the final.' nero said grumpily as he started to walk toward the ring with his brother.

What the Graves brothers may have lacked in actual training they made up for in energy and enthusiasm. It was no secret that they had come straight from the streets to fight here, without any formal instruction in combat, yet if anything that had worked to their advantage. They didn’t follow typical fighting patterns, and were tough to predict, unlike their methodical opponents.

“Don’t sweat it, Nero. Lightning never strikes the same place twice, eh?” Johnny offered with a genuine grin. He looked half-manic, ready to tear into the Jezz brothers as soon as his brother said the word.