yare
adjective, yar·er, yar·est.
- ready; prepared.
- nimble; quick.
*****************************
Paul had no idea what was going on. It should have been so easy. See a scrawny guy with a woman who was way out of his league, get the girl, go home and have some fun with her. He had not expected the guy to have a backbone. Paul was easily twice the guy’s size, and had arms bigger than the little man’s legs. The guy should have turned tail and ran immediately.
But the guy had chosen to fight for some reason. Paul had thought it would be an easy win. He could lay out guys just as big as he was. But that was not what happened. The guy was, well, not winning exactly, but not losing either.
Paul was swinging with everything he had. The smaller guy was dancing around his punches like some kind of ballet dancer. He was actually laughing at Paul the entire time. Laughing! Who did that in a fight? He had been in a lot of fights, and he’d never seen anyone laughing. Why was he laughing? His punches were like butterfly farts. The little guy wasn’t even attacking a lot. He spent all his time dodging.
Was that his plan? Dodge until Paul just got too tired to do anything? That could be it. But Paul had a lot of stamina. He could keep punching for almost an hour before he would really need a break. The little guy was moving pretty damned quick too, so he would also get tired eventually.
Paul glanced at the reason for the fight. The woman was clearly enjoying herself. Her eyes were glued to her date, and she was biting her lower lip. God damn, what did this scrawny guy do to get a babe like her? Well, he could ask her once he finally landed a hit on the guy. If he landed a hit.
Suddenly, the woman spoke up. “Kyle, baby, stop playing with him. I want to go to bed already.”
The man, Kyle, apparently, answered her like they were strolling in the park. “Well, if you say so. Too bad, this was just starting the get fun.”
Kyle began moving differently. He stopped dancing around and moved much more directly. He sped in close to Paul and began delivering a series of strikes that Paul could not defend against. Not that he needed to. The guy still hit like a five year old. And Kyle was now in striking range, too close to dodge properly.
Paul raised his hands to deliver a crushing hammer blow. Kyle’s fist lashed out. Paul began gasping for air as the small fist left his throat. Another quick throat strike followed, which was followed by several more. Paul went down hard.
He gasped for air, never quite getting enough to keep him awake. As his vision began to darken, he saw Kyle hook his arm around the woman’s. Paul heard muffled words, then saw the two of them laughing as they walked away. Then the world went dark.
*************************
Not much to say about this right now, so yeah. Uh, have a wonderful [insert time of day] everyone!
No comments:
Post a Comment