"Come in!" green said as he set down his glass and the report he was reading. He welcomed the distraction brought by the knock at his door; his legitimate operations were giving him more trouble than his actual business and the report was just the tip of the iceberg. Apparently it turns out you couldn't just send Scipio, HitchPitchEric and a book of matches to the health inspector's house to make sure your restaurants stay open. Or maybe you could, he mused, but that was a problem for another day.

"Come in, I said!" He called again a few moment later when whoever it was didn't make themselves known.

The louder yell did the trick as the door promptly burst open and Disorder bounced into the spacious room, immediately making it look cramped with his enormous frame. His face still bore the scars from his recent exploits and even though he would probably carry a slight limp for the rest of his life, he looked more terrifying than ever and certainly wasn't someone green would like to trade punches with.

"Sorry, Boss!" He shouted, almost deafening green "I don't hear so good these days, you know? The Doc thinks it'll be fine in a couple of weeks though! In the mean time I'll just be waiting outside awhile! HA!"

"Not to worry, Champ. What can I do for you?" green asked stepping out from behind his desk and pouring a whiskey for Disorder now his ears had stopped ringing. 

"I'm all healed up now, Boss" Said Disorder, draining the whiskey in one gulp and handing green back the now empty glass, leaving him holding it awkwardly in his left, his own, still full, remained in his right "Time to defend that title, I reckon..." He added, trailing off evidently hoping for a positive response from the Don.

"Oh right. Really?" green asked feigning surprise as he sipped his own drink. Everyone around him thought there was every chance Disorder would retire from the cage after his glorious triumph in the debut tournament, but green knew better. Although he'd already proven he was a mean bastard and he had done FitzChivalry and Las Vegas proud, the man was a warrior and he'd had a taste of the glory that came with being on top. It was hard to walk away from. 

"Really." The General answered. His voice had that brutal finality to it which green had become so accustomed to during the tournament, but he'd forgotten how scary it was during Disorder's recovery where he had seemed to himself.

"Well" green said, rubbing a hand against his three day's worth of stubble, pretending to turn the idea over in his head rather than having already planned for this exact eventuality..."if you're ready. And you're sure?" Disorder gave a quick nod "Well then, in that case... I think Fitz has people queuing up to take you on...provided your cut is the same as last time that is..." He dangled the bait, knowing there was an enormous green mohawk in the water today ready to snap it up, despite the fact he was a huge draw in his own right now.

"FUCK YEAH!" Disorder punched the air and furiously pumped green's hand "I'll smash the fuck outta everyone boss." He said with a smile "again. I promise!"

green split a grin himself, nodding, saved him a few thousand dollars by getting the big man on the same terms again; a good bit of a business. He returned to his desk and quickly scribbled a note and handed it to Disorder.

"Good lad. Give that to FitzChivalry and tell him to say you're fit, well and ready to bang. Also tell Fitz to put the word out too that we're looking for fighters again and now they've seen the show we're going to put on, I'm expecting this shit to be popular. $100,000 buy-in to be a part of it. That's their entry fee. We'll put up a million in cash too for the winner....You got that?" He asked as Disorder turned the note over in his hand, not moving.

"I got it...I'll see it done...but who's phone number is this?" He said puzzled, holding up the note green had given him.

"Stoner_Marley's. He made Fitz promise to call him when you were ready to defend your title. He thinks you two have unfinished business." 

"HA!" Disorder snorted "we'll fucking see about that!" 

As you're walking down the street, you see a young thug handing out flyers.

"If you're interested in being part of Fight Night - Round 2, you need to fill this shit in" he says to you stuffing what looked like a form into your hand before moving on to the next passerby and repeating the process.

You'd heard about this tournament and decided to give the form a closer look:

LAS VEGAS FIGHT NIGHT - ROUND 2

First name:

Surname:

Height:

Nick Names (List here): 

Home Town (Pick: LV, LA, NO, CH, NY, PA, MI):

Hair Style (Pick: Bald, Standard, Long Dreds, Mohawk):

Hair Colour (Pick: Black, Brown, Blonde, Blue, Red, Green, Purple):

Skin Colour:

Tattoos (Pick Position: Head, Arms, Legs, Neck, Back, Chest, Stomach):

Sponsors (Pick 3  (List here):

Style (Pick: Boxer, Freestyle Wrestler, Greco Roman, MMA, Jiu Jitsu, Judo, Karate, Kick Boxer, Muay Thai, Tae Kwan Doe):

 

• Complete the above and send it to "green" or "FitzChivalry" together with your buy-in of $100,000 if you want to compete. 
• If you want to add some background information about yourself, feel free to do so and we'll work it in where possible.
• First come, first served (Unless you're going to contribute loads to the event)
• This will be another 16 (wo)man event. First round. Quarter finals. Semi finals. Final.
• The winner will win $1,000,000 and the opportunity to fight Disorder to become Champion.
• Trash talking your opponents and/or FitzChivalry is heavily encouraged.  

Looking up, it all seemed pretty straightforward.

You continue on your rounds deciding whether or not you want to get into the fight business. 

BBG walks in the door as he anticipates yet an amazing tournament to be hosted in the sin city. BBG is not a fighter rather he envisions that he can make something out of this event.

He approaches green and shakes his hand.

"Big fan of your tournament green. I can say many are anticipating yet another wonderful fights among the fighters. But alas, I came with a business suggestion. I'm quite sure it has sprung up to your mind or rather someone did say this on you however Im gonna say it anyway. How about we make a betting system to this event. No rigging, no bullshit. Just pure gambling."

What you think?

green gave the New Yorker the eye as they shook hands. He was a man of honour from the Bronx and if he had made his bones, then green knew he could be trusted. He didn't know if the man had any experience running a book, but the idea intrigued him nevertheless. He had considered tasking one of his own with the responsibility, but it seemed a little incestuous and potentially could bring the entire thing into disrepute. Maybe it would better for an outsider to handle that end of the business.

"Ok, you've got my attention. I'm interested." green said before holding up his hand "But that ain't the end of the discussion. Fitz looks after all the fighters, so you would need to clear it with him first, too. Might be he already has someone in mind for the task." 

"Where can I find FitzChivalry then?" BBQ asks, eager to reach an agreement.

green flicks his head towards the gym behind him "I think he's signing up the last few fighters. Last I heard he had already signed up 10 guys, so we're nearly ready to get this underway. If you want to agree something for a book, you had better do it fast..." 

All i know...Is body shots suck

BrotherHec threw his gloves off and stared at Green and Fitz for a moment. 

I love this competition. This chance to get in the octagon and duke it out. I just dont think i have it in me any longer.

BrotherHec looked out in the crowd. He was beating up Bob Marley when something went terribly wrong. He threw out for a head kick and after missing Marley countered with a lovely right hook to the body. BrotherHec was short of breath. Collapsing to the mat Marley was able to secure the finish.

It still haunts me. I have a crew to run. I have family matters to take control of. I cant be getting involved in all of these fights. 

BrotherHec began walking away. He stopped at the whisper of a thought. He turned back around and looked green and fitz up and down.

Unless i can get a rematch. I want a rematch with Stoner_Marley. Tell him no TRT and no Marijuana this time. Just real natural shit. 

BrotherHec looked away and walked out the door to go train at his actual gym. 

I trust we can get this done.

NinjaNinja was prepared to fight, he had worked hard on end everyday running miles on end, then biking several miles afterwards. His Routine as brutal at best, even going so far as to go into underground boxing matches. The blood in him was boiling, he felt that he could do fairly well in the ring against the others, and was willing to bring break his opponents at any cost. This was the first tournament that he signed up for, and he was aiming to win it.

He goes back to the gym, training vigorously.

Brings popcorn.

Wait is my chainsaw allowed inside? 

It had been a hectic few days, with the recent war and the one currently on going, fighters were dropping left right and centre. Fitz was at his wits end, he was close to having nobody left to fight. Not only that but Disorder was getting bored. Fitz decided it was time to send out another invitation to people wanting to sign up. He sent one of his guys with the flyer again so that people could fill it in and get it back to him or green. Fitz was also after someone who would want to run a book on the fights, he was sure this was something that could be a lucrative bit of business.

Fitz handed the flyers to some of the runners within the Casino to pin up on lampposts on The Strip in the hope that we'd see some tough fuckers stepping forward to fight for the grand prize.

First name:

Surname:

Height:

Nick Names (List here): 

Home Town (Pick: LV, LA, NO, CH, NY, PA, MI):

Hair Style (Pick: Bald, Standard, Long Dreds, Mohawk):

Hair Colour (Pick: Black, Brown, Blonde, Blue, Red, Green, Purple):

Skin Colour:

Tattoos (Pick Position: Head, Arms, Legs, Neck, Back, Chest, Stomach):

Sponsors (Pick 3  (List here):

Style (Pick: Boxer, Freestyle Wrestler, Greco Roman, MMA, Jiu Jitsu, Judo, Karate, Kick Boxer, Muay Thai, Tae Kwan Doe):

• Complete the above and send it to "green" or "FitzChivalry" together with your buy-in of $100,000 if you want to compete. 
• If you want to add some background information about yourself, feel free to do so and we'll work it in where possible.
• First come, first served (Unless you're going to contribute loads to the event)
• This will be another 16 (wo)man event. First round. Quarter finals. Semi finals. Final.
• The winner will win a grand prize and the opportunity to fight Disorder to become Champion.
• Trash talking your opponents and/or FitzChivalry is heavily encouraged.  

Hopefully we'd see the sons and daughters of those who died signing up to fight in honour of their parents.

After yet another war, the list of fighters had shrunk even more but Fitz was determined to see this through, in memory of the late great green. Fitz wrote down a list of current fighters that had signed up and pinned them to the board in the Casino foyer.

King of the Ring II

Fighters:

Chase_TheWolves - Raoh (Las Vegas, Paradise)

Beowulf- - Aleksandr (Chicago, The Loop)

EricaWilde - Kurgan (Chicago, The Loop)

Stoner_Tony - Deces (Chicago, North Side)

Jezebel- - Woltrazz (Philadelphia, South Philly)

Aislin - Senza (Chicago, The Loop)

These guys were the ones currently in line to win the cash prize and face the reigning World Champion, Disorder. Rumour had it people were reluctant to enter due to being scared of the man mountain that had completely destroyed Stoner Marley in the final.

"Send the word out, Orange, let everyone know as well as a cash prize there'll be a prize of 10.00 Credits to be spent at the MGM Grand casino or anywhere else they wish to spend them. That should get their juices flowing and encourage some more people to sign up to face our guy."

Lucius was minding his own business, wandering the streets.

Well, he wasn't exactly minding his own business, he was actually trying to think of a way to get himself famous enough to start ripping the tits off people, which had been his dream since childhood. Some kids wanted to be policemen, some wanted to be race car drivers, but for as long as he could remember, LuciusSweet had always wanted to be a pimp. He'd failed miserably at it though, having been beaten up and stabbed in the back by his bottom bitch, Camp, so he was trying to branch out into other avenues.

As he continued wandering, he recognised the ginger haired Orange, engaged in busy work. The fact the man wasn't sat on his arse in the HQ, like usual, was almost as surprising as his decision to keep his carrot mop in a man-bun. Lucius decided to approach him to find out if he was feeling ok.

"Hello Orange, are you well, sir?" He asked offering the man his ring-encrusted hand.

Orange gave him an appraising look, before curling his lip in disgust. Whatever the equation was, Lucius had seemingly failed it "What do you want, newbie?" he asked, not giving Lucius the courtesy of a shake.

"I wondered what had gotten you off of your ars-...I mean what you're doing out here?" Lucius said, elegantly saving himself from incurring the man's wrath.

"Boss has me telling people about the fight. Busy work." He spat "More you level of shit, I reckon"

"The fight's back on is it?" Lucius said, his excitement building. Perhaps this would be his way of getting noticed "do you think I, the mighty LuciusSweet, might be allowed to enter?" he said puffing his chest out as much as he could.

Orange barked out a laugh "You're fucking kidding aren't you?" He said, struggling to compose himself "You would get your fucking arse smashed in lad."

Lucius bristled "listen here, Orange, I'll have you know I'm the real fucking deal. I could even beat that green-haired idiot, Disorder. He barely even trains now, just spends all day combing his stupid-ass mohawk!"

Orange looked at him in disbelief, before giving him a sardonic grin "I'll be sure to let him know that then, Sweet. Maybe you two can have a little warm up bout, prior to the tournament...seeing that you're such a tough bastard n'all?"

Lucius tried to stammer something, but his mouth had run away from him. Before he could correct the situation, Orange was making his way back to The Farseers HQ probably to tell Disorder what he'd said. He gave a nervous gulp and hoped the big man would go easy on him or better yet, Fitz wouldn't sanction it. He let out a breath. Yeah. Fitz wouldn't do something like that to him, surely. 

Fitz had been informed that Lucius had been walking around like his dick was a foot long and word was he wanted to have a crack at the big man, Disorder. He knew the new guy was eager to please and wanted everyone to see how tough he was but Fitz knew that in this life it wasn't always about walking round like you were the big dick in town and instead it was a little better to present yourself as humble and modest.

Fitz asked his man, Camp to send Lucius to him, Fitz felt this was the time for a lesson to be learned. As Lucius entered the office he swaggered in with his usual air of being Bertie big bollocks and Disorder had to cover up a snigger as he watched the man approach the desk and sit down before Fitz. Upon asking why he'd been called Fitz smiled over at Disorder and gave Camp a signal to shut the door on his way out.

"Lucius, I'm hearing you're a handy guy to have around, rumour is you're a right hard bastard and might even rival our very own Disorder here."

Lucius' face had suddenly lost all of the previous smugness about it and Fitz had to stop himself from smiling.

"Disorder here has been in need of a fighter to match him, he's wiped the floor with everyone else we've put him up against in sparring, you fancy giving him a run for his money? Let's see if you've got what it takes. I tell you what, I'll even throw in $1,000,000 if you can make it to the 3rd round with him, how's that for a sweetner, Mr Sweet?"

Lucius remained wide mouthed and didn't respond

"Okay then that settles it, meet us in the MGM later on and we'll see what you're made of. Good chap!"

with his entry submitted, and the cash transfer, Falcon was feeling super confident.

I'm ready to fight anyone who steps in my path. The prize is worth the pain I will endure to win it all. I fight to make my crew and my city proud. Whoever steps in the ring with me, be prepared to take a serious beating. Fighting is all I know, and its what I hang my hat on.

Tony heard news of Disorder being challenged by a member of his team with haste tony quickly dashed to his phone and immediately called disorder

" Listen big guy you don't know me but I'm the son of the guy who gave you the fight of your life and now I'm in this competition to take you on "

Disorder chuckled

" Yea whatever laugh all you want but just remember you'd be an embarrassment if you let this fat fuck win before the REAL tournament even began so you better beat his ass got it !? "

Tony's tone then drastically changed from heated and aggravated to calm and composed within seconds as he closed with...

" Now go have some fun I'll see you at the first round big guy " 

Recently Chong has been able to remember more, mainly because due to the mass amounts of letters and paperwork that gets passed through, and brought up weeks later. It forces a sink or swim reaction. The point being, Chong finally remembered that sign ups for the next fight were being held this week. His hand shot over to the top of the drawer and snatched up a joint and his lucky lighter. By the time he arrived to the sign ups, his head was lost, he had almost forgot why he walked that far. 

He looked around with a dopey look before finding the sign up table. As he fills out his answers he remembers, his good friend Marley had passed recently. 

"So Fitz, you think Marley's son will be around for this one? I want to show the kid what his old man was gonna get, if he hadn't gone off and got popped on us."

Chong hands the filled out paper to the secretary as he awaits his answer. 

Lucius nervously banged his fists together. He could barely think over the noise of the arena which was penetrating the sanctity of his dressing room as easily as Scipio in the gents of the Peach Pit. Truth be told, the room he was in wasn't even exclusively his dressing room and was actually just a communal locker room that happened to have nobody else inside it at that time. Such was the life of a novice fighter. He let out a heavy sigh and hoped he could slope away without causing too much trouble.

A knock on the door "HI DADDY! Lucius, time to go! " came the familiar high-pitched squeal of Eric, his crew-appointed corner man for the bout.

Looked like slipping off was out of the equation.

"JUST A MINUTE!" he yelled trying not to crap his pants. 'You can do this. You can do this' he muttered to himself as he opened the door, being greeted by Eric's vacant stare and bare chest.

"HI DADDY! All ready?" He said, clapping a sweaty palm onto Lucius' shoulder, making him cringe at the contact.

"I guess..." he mumbled, making his way from his dressing room.

The noise was even louder in the corridor and HighPitchEric's heavy breathing and teeth sucking was getting on his nerves. He passed by Orange on his way to the curtain, who gave Lucius a "you're about to get your arse turned out" look, which, following the lead of the other family members, he ignored.

He walked through the curtain and felt like he was slapped in the face by the noise. The crowd thundered down their animosity for him and he nervously looked about, hoping they didn't start throwing things. Even Eric looked a little taken aback and hostile men spitting at him was part of his ideal Saturday night, further dragging down Lucius's confidence.

He slipped into the cage and tugged nervously at his ill-fitting blue shorts. The announcer introduced his opponent, the champion, General Disorder, and the crowd flipped their position faster than FitzChivalry's supper lotto went out of fashion. As the hulking brute made his way towards the cage, Lucius gulped. This was feeling like more and more of mistake with every passing moment. 

Fight

General Disorder "The Destroyer" vs Lucius "Three Piece" Sweet

(Full fight available HERE)

Lucius nervously bounced on his toes as the announcer called out his name. He didn't want to waste too much energy though and the sound of his flabby physique slapping up and down wasn't filling him with confidence. He quickly stopped and offered the crowd a demure fist pump. They responded with a deafening chorus of boos. He decided it would probably be better if he just stood still.

"AND IN THE RED CORRRRNERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR" cried the announcer as Lucius cast a worried glance over at the man mountain of muscle standing opposite him "HAILING FROM LAS VEGAS NEVADA....BOASTING A PERFECT PROFESSIONAL RECORD OF 4 WINS, ALL COMING BY WAY OF KNOCK OUT.....HE IS THE UNDEFEATED.....UNDISPUTED...CHAMPION OF THE WORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRLDDDD.....THE DESTROYER.............GENERAL DISORDDDERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR".

Lucius watched in horrified silence as Disorder launched a flurry of fists into the space in front of him, faster than Lucius's eyes could follow; forget shadow boxing, this was shadow assassination. He cursed silently to himself, that motherfucker Orange had stitched him up and it was something he was never, ever going to forget.

"Fighters....are you ready?" The official called, beckoning Lucius to join Disorder in the centre of the ring. The crowd were baying for his blood and he couldn't believe how FitzChivalry had managed to get this place so full, so quickly. Ringside was packed, people were taking their seats as far as Lucius could see. "Sweet, get over here!" The official called again impatiently, and reluctantly Lucius approached Disorder full of apprehension.

"Hey man, go easy on me, yeah!" He said with a laugh offering his glove out for Disorder to touch. The champion just gave him a menacing growl, so Lucius slowly withdrew his hand. Guess this wasn't going to be an exhibition.

The referee outlined the rules.

Lucius wasn't listening, he was wondering how best not to die. This was all becoming very real.

"Fight!" 

Wait, what?

The bell sounded and Lucius kicked into action, mostly out of fear as he tried to prevent getting his head knocked off by the pumped up champion. He felt a punch whistle past his nose and a kick narrowly sail over the top of his afro; if that wasn't motivation for him to start swinging, nothing would be. His kicks had always been his strong suit so he kept firing a couple at Disorder every couple of seconds and was rewarded with some nice impacts. His allowed himself a smile, maybe this guy wasn't as tough as people made him out to be? 

"FUCK!" He yelled, as Disorder planted a kick on his front thigh that felt like it nearly tore his leg from it's socket. Lucius gingerly tried to put weight on it, but had to quickly change stance; his youth spent dancing across the night clubs of New York had given him excellent timing and he was reliant on it right now, just to stay alive. His whole left side was on fire, so he gave a very undignified, half-hop, half-step just out of harm's way.

Lucius looked up at the clock. Are you fucking kidding me? Not even 2 minutes had gone and he was already blowing hard. Disorder must have sensed it too and he tried to take out Lucius' meaty thighs and send him sprawling. A few days in the company of Scipio had made Lucius wise to movements below his waistline though and he fended off the takedown attempt. 

"Ha! Yeah bitch! You'll need to do better than that to tak- OOF" he spluttered as Disorder shut him up with a mammoth fist to the mouth and it was becoming increasingly obvious to Lucius that he was hopelessly outmatched. He dodged a spinning heel kick from the General, was grazed by his toes on the other side and soon he was backed up against the cage.

"Fuck him up, Disorder!" he heard the familiar snarl of Orange call out from ringside. That pissed Lucius off something fierce. Here he was getting his fucking ass kicked by this crazy motherfucker and that ginger bastard was sat smugger than Camp on Two for Tuesday, lapping it all up. Well fuck that. He would show him. He would rip the title away from Disorder and wrap it round Orange's face!

Lucius put everything he had into his next two punches, but Disorder swatted them aside like they had been thrown by a particularly feeble little girl, or HighPitchedEric, and effortlessly put a slegehammer onto Lucius' chin. He felt his legs wobble. He was being pressed back. Somehow he was on his arse, with Disorder pounding away at him. He desperately tried to survive. He felt like his arm was being pulled in the wrong direction by a truck, with fucking rocket thrusters on either side.  

"FUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK!" Lucius screamed, thrashing from side to side, desperately trying to break free, but Disorder's grip was like Atlas' and he was held firm, hearing his arm gradually cranking further and further out of joint. He braced against the pain, waiting to hear the inevitable snap. 

"Not yet, fat man" Disorder breathed in his ear and he released Lucius' arm. He gave a whimper of relief and gradually rose to his feet. He clenched his teeth. He was going to have to knock this bastard out or he was going to die right here in front of all these people. He cradled his arm against his chest. He took a deep breath as Disorder threw out a couple of range finding jabs.

"MOTHERFUCCCCCKERRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!" He yelled, launching himself through the air like a grossly overweight panther hunting down a gargantuan green-haired deer. His knee clattered into Disorder's face; apparently the prospect of all 17 stone of Lucius throwing a flying knee hadn't occurred to the Champ. Lucius thought he must have killed him. Turns out, he hadn't even knocked him down. Disorder reached up and touched his cheek where Lucius' knee had hit him. He dabbed at the blood leaking from the opening and gave a venomous snarl.

"Oh shit..." 

Disorder charged towards him just as the klaxon sounded ending the round. Lucius ran to his own corner, HighPitchEric waiting for him. "HI DADDY! You're still alive!" he crooned and Lucius tried to get his breathing under control "Eric....Eric!" He yelled between breaths "You gotta stop this! Throw in the towel! Save me! He's gonna fucking kill me!!"

Eric alternated between towelling himself and towelling Lucius "SORRY DADDY, no can do! Orders" he minced and Lucius gave him his best stare. Eric just shrugged and left him to wallow in his own mess. 

The klaxon sounded for round 2.

Disorder was mad. Sadly for Lucius this wasn't making him sloppy, it was just making him deadlier. His whole face hurt, his arms were aching and his left leg was on fire. He tried to land a kick on Disorder, but the General telegraphed his slowing strikes and swept his legs out from under him, sending him sprawling to the canvas.

Before he realised it, Disorder was on top of him battering down painful fists into his face. He felt blood splatter from his mouth and still the fists rained down, relentless. Lucius forgot where he was, frantically writhing trying to escape the beating before he was left looking like Scipio. He thrust his leg out trying to force Disorder off him, but The General latched onto it, locking his hands either side of his shin.

"FUCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKk!!!!!!" Lucius screamed, the pain felt like his shin was about to split in two.

"This is for cutting me" Disorder yelled, cranking up the pressure another couple of notches.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" Lucius whined, higher than even Eric could manage, pounding on the floor with his all his might "I tap! I FUCKING TAP!!!" 

The bell sounded. 

Disorder let go of his leg.

Lucius grabbed the fractured limb and tried to cradle it.

He was sure he could hear Orange's bitter laughter amongst the cheering of the crowd but that might have just been in his head. After a few seconds he felt hands under his arms lifting him up and he was quickly ushered out of the cage and the taunting of the crowd.   

Disorder had done the impossible would have been a more cinematic thing to say in the wake of his victory, but instead he had done what everybody in attendance assumed he would do, which was to pulverize his opponent.  HighPitchEric stood in LuciusSweet's corner watching as Disorder stood above Lucius in victory.  Somehow, defying gravity, a puddle of perspiration had began to form underneath HighPitchEric's bottom lip.  He swabbed at it with his ring towel, now soaked with an unhygienic mixture of sweat from both Lucius and Eric.  Watching these men fight had made him hungry.  He reached into his sweatpants and pulled out a sandwich.  The bread was soggy.  Eric decided to not ponder why.  Maybe if he let it sit awhile on the corner stool it would dry out a bit. He would eat it then.  In the meantime, he turned his Team Lucius shirt inside out and moved over to Disorder's corner instead hoping that nobody would notice.