A wise man once said you should judge a man on how you treat your inferiors not your equals, and in that regard Hobbs was a bastard with a chocolate coating. Inferiors were inferiors for a reason after all. They just weren't as good as bold fedora wearing champions like himself. Those days were over now. No longer would Hobbs be a toxic feminine masculine personality.

Hobbs had returned from his vacation in a marvellous mood. The sun was shining, and he decided to turn over a new leaf. Be a new man. For too long now he'd been needlessly cruel mocking Void for being a hideous deformed 'Peace Pervert', mocking MikeTyson for embarraththing lisps, and Headcoach for being a bulbous odious gas giant. He would even be kind to Grin-22. A bin dipping obsessed cretin who loved nothing more than rifling through other peoples trash to find intel on people, and his dinner for the night. Hobbs was in his prime. His body was waxxed. His body was vaxxed. He was ready for a hot boi summer.

He was in the peak of physical health. He stalked the streets like a prime mathlete with pen in the top strap of his dungarees and glasses tucked safely into his hat. He saw Headcoach lumbering towards him and stopped to converse. He was in the process of preparing a bold compliment for his one time nemesis when Headcoach, in glorious slow motion, attempted to lift Hobbs wallet right out of his trouser pocket. Hobbs tilted his head to the side in confusion unsure of what to do.

Coach then took a glove out of his sweaty short pocket and slapped poor old Hobbs clean across the chops before issuing a challenge:

Jul 30, 09:04:27

HeadCoach has issued a challenge to duel to you. HeadCoach will shoot first. Click here to accept or decline the duel.

Hobbs didn't immediately reply. He was still in shock. Here he was, a changed man with a fresh perspective on this life of crime and yet an hour in he was already subjected to more Detroit based nonsense. He couldn't leave this alone. He would answer the slights in order, the first thing he did was immediately turn and pummel Headcoach's walrus features. He'd been practicing his violence lately as his stunning boxing victory over Void in Iron Mike's gym had showed.  

Jul 30, 09:05:05

You caught up with HeadCoach, beat them within an inch of their life, and took $16,102 You also stole their gun.

 "Can you duel without a gun?" Hobbs said looking down at the prone form of Headcoach. What a glorious fool Hobbs was all of 17 seconds ago. To think he was on the verge of making his peace with Detroit and inviting HeadCoach on a romantic beach holiday for two. To think Basketball was about to be unbanned with the rules around ball chortling and gargling to be revoked. Ha. What an IDIOT. The ban would remain in full force. He wouldn't kill the man though. That would be a kindness he wasn't willing to provide.

He had been close to walking away entirely when Skidmark stepped up to the plate and tried to avenge his fallen leader. He received the same punishment and was beaten down with gun removed in the process. It was a great return to form for Hobbs and Summerlin. 

Jul 30, 11:36:14

You caught up with Skidmark, beat them within an inch of their life, and took $0 You also stole their gun.

Two guns in one day! With FrizzleFry still refusing to come out of his Headquarters and come home to Las Vegas, and with the bloodline of the late great John Fareham still causing trouble, Hobbs could only assume that Detroit were completely and utterly fucked.

"HeadFatWerz, what are you going to do about this situation?"

Void had witnessed the transformation that Hobbs had undergone first-hand. Where there was once a time where when Void got beaten down by Hobbs he would be venomously insulted and be left a sniveling wreck, now he'd just have unintelligible things shouted into his eardrums instead.

Jul 31, 10:51:55

Hobbs caught up to you and beat you down. They took $3,987 back. As they walk away they say, "Void eeer'bucanerr shivvleguzzle cuzzle (satire)".

In fact, Hobbs had undergone such a major personality change during his holiday that something unprecedented had happened, Void was shown kindness and generosity when Hobbs had sent him some cash to go buy a proper meal instead of eating raw carrots foraged from The Forest like he usually did.

Jul 30, 10:55:45

Your accountant has received payment of $15,000 from Hobbs. The note "chicken" was included.

It was today that Void had been stalking the tail of the recently sea-emerged HeadCoach for the majority of the day, photocamera in hand, to try and procure more pictures of a certain scandal involving a certain orange vitamin-C rich... edible. He was sat hidden in the bushes watching the conversation between HeadCoach and Hobbs take place, until it took a turn he didn't expect it to.

Jul 30, 09:05:05

You hear someone shouting "Thief! Thief!" Turning just in time to see Hobbs tackle and pummel !HeadCoach to a bloody pulp.

Still remaining hidden in the bushes he was witness to the regression of Hobbs into his old violent and cruel ways. It was a shame that the nice version of his golden-trunk wearing nemesis had only lasted for such a short time.

Coach inhaled so deeply he could've sucked the meat off a walnut.

"There is nothing about this I like, except for a few things, which means in reality there is a little less than nothing that I like about this (or more, depending on how you want to phrase that). I like mugging. Mugging is the lifeblood of a strong, violent city. It breeds warriors. The challenge to duel Hobbs I like, as it is no secret that I would like to kill Hobbs one day. He is very annoying and looks like the opposite of what would happen if you exercised, consumed the right amount of protein, vitamins and nutrients and lived a healthy and disciplined life.

If something that looked like Hobbs descended to Earth in a spaceship from the skies, humanity would likely forego all first contact diplomacy and simply murder it on sight. 

If you considered buying a new home, as you had been offered a terrific job in a nearby city, and found all of your options exhausted until your real estate agent brought you to one final visit - a beautiful mansion, at a cut-rate price, with a pool and a sauna and as many bedrooms and bathrooms as you could count, with marble flooring and a beach-front view - and it seemed incredible and perfect, but as you walked in the door, your agent stops to say, "Mr. HeadCoach, let me introduce you to the seller, Hobbs, he has lived here for 5 years", you would stop and say, "No, I do not want this home and I need to leave this cursed place immediately", because nowhere in the this entire process did they explain to you that this property had a goblin infestation. 

No, in fact it seems like the only thing I do not like about this is that Hobbs turned one of my greatest powers against me; the power of the beatdown, and he embarrassed and humiliated me in the process by also stealing my gun. 

That was very rude.

You're a very rude person, Hobbs."

Jul 30, 09:05:05    Hobbs caught up to you and beat you down. They took $16,102 back. They also stole your gun. As they walk away they say, "Can you duel with no gun".
Jul 30, 09:04:27    You have issued a challenge to duel to Hobbs.

"I demand an apology." 

The MickSiciliano had been in the thoroughly green fair for a while now but was just enjoying his sunbathing at this point. Lucky for the South the FatGypsyKing had returned with his cookbook of anarchy and other assorted Goody's to release negative vibrations all over the state. Having received a signal from a fresh pig under the shared blanket, a new confidence within arose when he realized these were the tip off men from his pops journal. He spoke up in his tiny Th'Ugh'BooterTooter voice

BET YOU WONT SHOOT HIM

"A wise man once told me that tears were just weakness leaving the body. If that's true Mr Headfatwerz, Mr Headcoach then you will soon be the strongest man around. As strong as the human gorilla hybrid you have always claimed to be. For that you should be thanking me. Without my motivation, my beatdowns, my bopping and jiving around your weight you wouldn't be the man you are today. In many ways It is, I, HeadHobbs who is the Headcoach in this relationship."

Hobbs gently put his hand on a small part of Coach's gargantuan shoulder whilst gently stepping over from the mingled blood and water puddles at Coach's feet where his beating and breakdown had merged into one.

"I'm here if you need me, my friend. FrizzleChip has abandoned you. Grin is in a bin somewhere searching for the secret of eternal life. LadyBanana I fear has been eaten by life. D0m3n1c left you. I'm so sorry about all that. Should you require further life guidance feel free to visit me at my premier hotel and casino destination in Summerlin City. You can even bring one of your basketball thingies with you."

Hobbs was such a nice guy. He sidestepped the corpse of MickWishington and frowned

"Guezz'inz you'zz was'ernz murd'er'd'ezizizd for something. Trag'ed'yz"

Dirty was walking around the streets, minding his own business when he heard some commotion in the streets. Hobbs the Leader of lv was talking about the players of the Detroit team abandoning Coach. 

"I'll never leave this overweight mastermind of basketball." Dirty exclaimed

"The poor bastard is on vacation consuming 18,000 calories a meal on his break, but I'm a loyal team member."

Dirty produced a basketball and proceeded to dribble around Hobbs and challenge him to a game of 'Horse' 

Hobbs looked up DirtyDirty with all the disdain he could muster. 

"The last guy who challenged me to a game of horse ended up with his horse burnt to the ground by a filthy arsonist. I'm not sure that's a game either of us wants to get into, friend. Just for clarification; I did not burn the horse, understood?"

Hobbs had never even seen this disgusting individual before.

"Has Headcoach taken to hiring ringers to fluff out his team? I don't believe you're a member of Detroit at all. You're not even wearing a jersey! What are you going to do with a sweater vest and a pair of slacks? Come back here when you're dressed for the occasional and ready to take me on one v one at a real game: Tic Tac Toe."

Of Headcoach there was no sign. It was rumoured he'd fled to the comforting embrace of his new squeeze whilst trying to get a criminal B&B operation off the ground. 

Eternal life? Overrated. I found the answer at the bottom of the first bin I searched as it happens. Not interested. Who wants to live forever? You, Hobbs? Don't make me laugh. What would a noodle-armed, duel-shy, HeadCoach shadow-dweller do with immortality? Probably spend it reading. Disgusting. 

The only tragedy here is that the duel didn't take place. One of my least favourite people in Hobbs, and my least favourite walrus in HeadCoach battling to the death in a contest that could, conceivably and hopefully, end with both of their deaths. What's not to love? 

Fortunately, HeadCoach has once again disappeared having survived his trysts with the barnacles who adorned his hull. Will I, former de facto Headcoach of Detroit, who oversaw the successful disarmament of that buffoon Arthur and singlehandedly solved the BBB confidence crisis, be called upon to take up the sweat-defiled whistle of HeadCoach once again? Detroit hopes so. Only time will tell. In the interim, if you could kindly deposit yourself into the nearest nerd-pen and not exit it, I would be grateful. 

"Grin, although it goes without saying that your thankfully brief stint as de facto Headcoach has been an unmitigated disaster — nobody disputes this — not just for Detroit, but the entirety of mafiakind, I must admit that even I, no friend of Detroit, have been left shocked by the rapid decline that has set in ever since HeadCoach return from his seaside sabbatical. Run-down, long-abandoned businesses are being broken into by raving lunatics, madmen and hooligans, while the toilets remain unused; untouched; undefiled. HeadCoach is being bested by Hobbs of all people, and BBB, the much-touted successor to FrizzleFry, spends most of his time filming perverse movies, while one of his closest associates performs corny musical numbers. In my capacity as the undisputed leader of READ, I couldn't possibly say I long for the past. I'm just saying, that if Gibbon was still alive today to bear witness to this farce, he'd be tempted to write a long tome about it. I understand that the whole basketball gig can get tiresome (and you lot were never much good at it to begin with), but this isn't the way. Have you considered entering into the competitive checkers scene?"

"Mister Sosabowski! I extremely object to the way you frame said:

raving lunatics, madmen and hooligans

I, identify as a "raving lunatic and madman" and have no affiliation with "hooligans" in any way, shape or form. 

"raving lunatics and madmen" are both shocked and appalled by the way you lump us in the same category. as "hooligans" and we demand an apology. 

Your jealousy of both my tenure as de facto HeadCoach, a universally recognised success, and Detroit as a whole is very telling, Sosabowski. My victories speak for themselves. Who raised an unassailable $140,000 to battle HeadCoach's tyrannical designs over 12th Street and The Dribbler Dome? Who came to the streets prepared to offer advice to the public and rudely ignored them all? Who pointed out that 60 Units is the a shield for the puny? That's right, me. When you were at home making plans of how to talk to people, alone, with all of your "friends", within your "organization", I was out here getting things done. When they finish writing the book about all of my achievements, if they even have enough pages to finish it I guess, I promise to sign a copy for you.

DLZ is new to the streets and is somewhat overwhelmed with the mobster world he has become part of. He goes from group to group listening to the stories. It wasn't so long ago that he had just acquired his own pistol and the thought of losing it had never occurred to him. He also couldn't believe the balls of some of these mobsters, duelling each other. 

"Surely the streets are dangerous enough already?" He thought to himself out loud. "Perhaps I still have a lot to learn about this world".

Smilin' at the words of DLZ. The young fresh to death dressed mafiosong'enna'dancinn MickBastidd waggled his eyebrows. A smile overcame him.

In my book of ancest'orr'neryy Toad's oh'will'b'damm't. There's one of them Apache'lachian'ozz named MyDuelRecordis171.

MyDuelRecordIs1-7-1

Feb 20 '20

1.05

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Simple and Stright answer. big resounding NOO

Dandsmiled

EerrtBoomShkiBrapApp

JalopyCrashInTheStreet

GoldenCappedAgree

The i7 unbuttoned top button of the jonesin' bones for his own bones to the beat button man reached into his back pocket. The old paint brush his greatgreatgreatandsoon ancestor used'terr use a'wayy back when. Sheesh, he thought it was bad when the DotOrgClique was still runnin' shit. Wonder what they would think about these streets of ours today? FartBarf begins to scribe like that of a man unafraid to look into his own decisions. He was encapsulated by the overall message his entire family had been trying to say this whole time. He was mad. Very mad. So mad his arms turned green from all the paint spilled in the drippy tag he left on the wall.

Durden

Must

Die