Dean Winchester steps out onto the streets with his good friend Bollix, they had come together to host a event for the community and were ready to share their idea with everyone.

"Hello everyone thank you for joining us here today, I'll try not to take up too much of your time but I wanted to announce that the West Coast leadership have come together to bring to you the first West Coast Golden Gloves Boxing Tournament! If I could direct you all to the posters it will explain the details!"

West Coast Golden Gloves

entry: $100,000

 

Prizes:

Gold medal: $10,000,000

Silver medal $5,000,000

Bronze medal: $2,000,000

 

3780  Las Vegas Blvd S

Las Vegas, NV

 "If you or a friend of yours think they've got what it takes to be our champion, I'd like to invite you to my office and we'll get you signed up."

* For entry in this event contact Dean Winchester, and send in the buy in fee. The fights will be a bracket system single elimination, sign ups close on August 23rd as long as minimum participate number is met, if not sign ups will be extend as needed.  

Example of how fights will be handled. (This is a previous event I was unable to finish, but the fights themselves will be handled using the same format and scoring system.)

Shane had read in his father's journal about the previous Operation Knockout and was very ecstatic to see something similar. He walked up and read the poster. Hell yeah! Shane would definitely be interested so he walked in, pulled out a stack of cash amounting to $100,000 and signed up.

It had been a hot minute since Indifference had tried his hand at pugilism.

One thing he knew from years of drunken debauchery is that he could be agitating and he could take a punch.  He wondered if he applied a strategy of breaking his opponent's hand with face - if just maybe it would be effective.  

Indifference shadowboxed a little after reading the flyer with excitement, and then tripped on his feet and stumbled against a wall.  He quick looked around to make sure that no one saw it, and then too a quick pull out of the flask before signing up.

Vito Mancini’s no fighter—he’s a gambler through and through.

But when Dean Winchester hosts a high-stakes boxing tournament on the West Coast, Vito throws his hat in the ring. Sometimes, the biggest gamble is stepping into the fight.

I had some time on my hands and some extra cash burning a hole in my pocket. This seemed like a solid place to throw my hat into the ring and see if anything came from it.

It was worth a shot at least.

Nike was the sportiest sports person to be currently living and fancied his chances at ticking a few competitors off the boxing list. oooushhh pow wow pow pow

Nike shadow boxes and throws a few imaginary head butts! Lets go, Just Do It

Your accountant has made payment of $1,000,000 to Dean-Winchester. The note "10 entries" was included.

 Our made men and above will be competing. Including myself and Darwin. No cheap shots just cause you can!

"Firstly I'd like to welcome and thank everyone who has registered, currently we have 18 fighters registered for the event. I will not put a hard limit, as I'd like anyone who wants the chance to enter the opportunity to do so. The deadline will be upheld tho, as we have reached out minimum number of fighters required."

"Secondly I want to say a special thank you to Spicoli who has donated 15 million to the prize pool, so I will post an updated flyer with the new prize information. Again let's all give a big shout out tot he man!"

West Coast Golden Gloves

entry: $100,000

 

Prizes:

Gold medal: $17,000,000

Silver medal $10,000,000

Bronze medal: $5,000,000

 

3780  Las Vegas Blvd S

Las Vegas, NV

Boxing event eh... Marty steps off the streets and into a local Gym, one two... One two, he starts practicing for the event coming up.

Your accountant makes note that $100,000 has been wired to Dean-Winchester from your account. The note "Golden Gloves" was included.

I'm not expecting much but I've done a little street fighting in my younger days. I'm currently in search of a trainer to get me into fighting shape, and a cut man to keep me there.

Times were tough, bodyguards were unreasonably extortionate bastards, and TruceFather kept turning off the paydays while cranking the crew taxes up to 95% in a vain attempt to keep this poorly oiled machine clunking along. All of this put together meant that some quick cash was in order for the turtle extraordinaire. 

"How did my bots do?", Francois asked some random guy who's only there to keep the plot moving.

"Not good. They've all exploded.", he immediately left after saying that one sentence.

With the bot dream dead it was time to move to the next hustle. Boxing.

I DECLARE A SPOT IN THE BOXING TOURNAMENT!

Johnny stood there listening to dean speak about the upcoming event. He was an avid boxing fan and hoped this would be the fight of the century. He smiled and thought about how he could help Hype up the event.

Hey there Dean!  I have sent my accountant to deliver an additional for the prize money.

Also please sign me up for 10 entries, sins for 10 entries and cyclone for 10 entries. 

Tom looks over the flyer and thinks about his days as a younger man throwing hands with the boys down at the gym...

"Heh, my old ass can still deliver a beatdown when necessary. Just because I don't look for fights anymore doesn't mean I can't handle myself. In fact, my whole organization would do quite well in any sport where grit and tenacity are involved. I'd like to sign up my best 25 fighters to participate, myself included".

Tom completes the wire transfer to Los Angeles and takes his receipt...

"I'll send the names of the fighters by first class mail. Got to keep a low profile on these streets, you know".

Maine didnt say much just, "Alright" and slammed a fat stack on the table.

Shane_Stetson called me into the Headquarters. John_Manna, SilentAssassin, and a few others were sitting around.  He informed me that he had signed me up and paid for an entry fee for the West Coast Golden Gloves Boxing Tournament.

You've got to be fucking kidding me I said.  You must want me to get my ass kicked. He told me he’s seen me at the gym sparring with the guys.  That I looked fit, had quick hands, and could take a punch.

I just shook my head and laughed.  Those guys know I have an entourage of bodyguards waiting to fuck them up if they hit me too hard.

Then SilentAssassin mentions the fact that my kin had won a title once. Yeah, that was Spicy.  She won the Brawl For Fall tournament promoted by  Sniffler.  Her final match was against MrChaChaSlide also known as MidpoinT.  She never collected the prizes advertised. But then again, I am not Spicy.

They all joined in giving me all this bullshit pep talk until I gave in and said I would give it a shot.

Bob sat at a dimly lit table in the back of the boxing gym, the smell of leather and sweat was hanging in the air. He wasn't wearing his usual hard hat, tonight, it was a black cap tilted low, hiding his eyes. Ol' Bobby wasn't as spry as he once had been, but knew his fists were still made of concrete.

I am going to make my opponents coffins. Can we break it? Yes, we can.

Bob reaches inside his jacket for an envelope and hands it over to the event organizer.

After Enzo read me a bedtime story, he told me about a upcoming boxing match, hosted be Dean. Than sounds violent! Just like Iamjustababy 👶🏽

So here is my entry sheet:

age: 7,5 months

weight: diaperfeatherweight

moves: ankle bite tornado, pacifier choke punch

He sees the updated prizes and quickly puts on a fake mustache and places the name 'Francis' down on the jotted line right below Francois.

Oui I am Francois brother, Franswee is a silly boy and I am a man named Francis. I officially throw my hat into the, as you say... ring? Oui.