Goon was looking for something to hit.  He loved to fight.  Punching people in the face was a hobby of his.  Sure, he got hit back often enough - but that was fine with him.  Just the price of doing business when you're a brawler.  Unrefined, yet unrelenting - Goon puts his money down on the table at the front to pay for his membership.  He slaps his face repeatedly to get psyched up and then pulls on an old worn pair of boxing gloves.  He climbs into the ring and starts shadow boxing (throwing bombs) as he awaits someone who wants to spar.

Vince had always had an interest in boxing, the thought of two guys trading stiff shots till one can't get back up sounds barbaric but there's lots of money to be made in bets and fixing matches.

Vince walked in to the boxing gym to observe the interior. Everything was your standard fodder for a boxing gym, Vince glanced over at the man in the ring who looked like he was itching for something to smash with his fists.

"Sometimes, your fists are all you got." he said to himself as he looked at Goon with a slight smile. Vince reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a gold pocket watch with the letter B engraved on it, he checked the time as he retrieved a box of cigarettes from the same pocket.

"Hm, guess I should get going."

Vince puts the watch back in his pocket and fishes a lighter from his pants pocket while resting the cigarette between his lips, he lights the cigarette and throws the now empty pack away in the nearest trash can.

He exits the gym and heads for the closest hotel.

Goon looks over at Damut and raises an eyebrow.  

"A bareknuckle fight you say?  I've been in plenty of those.  You win some, you lose some, but the thrill of the fight and rising to the challenge of your rivals is always what keeps you coming back for more fights.  I'd take a fight, who's the chap who wants to scrap?"

Goon walks over and starts throwing digging kidney shots at the heavy bag.  He was liking the place.  It felt like home.

Whilst on a tour of his home city's business district, Madara had been ranting and yelling incoherently whilst getting drunk in the Neverland Bar.

He was genuinely surprised as he passed a business which actually had its lights switched on. Curious he enters. After a short while of scanning the room he gathered it was a humble boxing gym. He was curious as to whether the proprietor would be smart enough to invite kalimuscle to come endorse the business and maybe drum up some advertisements for the place. Kali wore large suits, to fit his large frame and as such he had plenty of space for badges and stickers he could sport whilst he made public appearances. 

As for Madara, he already had a work out regime. It was a sekrit as his side profession of being an assassin required him to keep his methods from becoming common knowledge, but he'd sent who ever he came across, looking for some boxing lessons or a good place to work out, this way. He believed in supporting his local businesses and knew they needed all the help they could get.

Madara had baked a cake from ingredients he'd bought at a store which was closing down and reduced all stocks to sell them quicker. He left it on a table at the side of the room. He knew that cake was fatty and sugary, but since people were working hard to burn those calories a small slice would be a good and yummy source of energy for them. 

Clank had always had heavy hands and a bad temper , as he proceeds towards the building with the sign "Hellhound Boxing"  he begins to have flashes of his younger day's back in Chicago. Clank had been known to brawl and get into trouble , he was a good hitter but never had any training. 

"Maybe they can help me here"

Clank proceeds into the building to find Damut working with possible prospects, while Goon ripped the heavybag up.

"Room for one more?"