Fist fight, bare knuckles, steel rings, iron claws, jabbed in the face, smashed across the floor, rubbed in the ground, kicked in the mud, brain mashed, mixed in soil, fodder for the seeds, blood serves the water for the plants, Pulpy orange like face, pumpkin like body, all taken down with a blow, what might, what excellence, what amazing intense action, what a picturesque view, what capture and a painting of a bleeding half dead warrior
Fights are between two equals, for the greatest there is just a single blow.
One touch and down on the ground, in the arena as the crowd cheers, glorifies the winner with innards of the fallen soul.
Gladiators fear, animals wonder, a harmless looking human with no weapon, no claws, no fangs, no canines, ripping apart what comes across, killing each and every being.
He doesn't look to distinguish friends.
He has none, so you're safe.
He finds you he will pull you in the ring.
Blow after blow in your face he will pound.
With hammer and fists and knuckles andsteel.
Teeth fly like pop corns, blood pours like from a fire hose.
Intestines worn like beads, eyes decorated like earrings, skin used to clean the floor, you're face is nothing but a cigarette butt rubbed in ...
ATTACKWINNERDEATH AND BURIED ALL IN ONE GO!
Killed sweetly with all love.
Buried without effort.
Grave dug with personalised touch.
Exact size as you would need.
Dug with your own body, skull shoved and limbs uprooted.
Let's go...
Next warrior please!