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MK Kilmarnock
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Hate, hate, HATE!!!
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While he had plenty of time to think 'gee, this certainly is going to suck,' that probably just made things worse. The freight train that was Trav barreled into Jerry before his body could figure out if it wanted to fake to the left and then jump to the right or vice versa. He managed to fake in either direction but never actually MOVED either way, unless you count backwards and into the ocean.

"Fuuuuuaaablugblugblug!" Jerry managed to scream out before the waves crossed over his face, cutting him off. The stinging saltwater washed up his nose and in his mouth. He hacked and he sputtered to force the water from his throat, hoarse groans of pain and exertion as he struggled with the larger boy atop him. He shouted half-choked obscenities and flailed from his inferior position, soaked sneakers digging through wet sand by the heel. Even if he had to push himself deeper into the ocean, that was still a direction and, as Jerry was sure of, movement in any direction was better than staying under Trav.

Pressing his elbows into the beach, the loamy mass of sand gave way enough for a palm of one hand, the knuckles of the other to get under Trav. Jerry still couldn't push him straight off, but maybe if he strained with both feet and his hips to turn his body, it was possible to turn Trav to the side. He already knew Trav was excellent at pulling off a ground-n'-pound. They were already at the ground. Jerry REALLY didn't want to feel that second part without being able to properly cover his face.
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