"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Viewing Single Post From: Sting Like A Stingray
MK Kilmarnock
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Hate, hate, HATE!!!
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"Noodle's trainin'?" Jerry raised an eyebrow, more out of genuine curiosity than disbelief of any sort. Like, girl power and all that shit. "Like, to fight, like you? Or just working out?"

Ah, screw it, it wasn't important anyway.

"Ah, screw it, it's not important anyway," Jerry said. He took this time to start wrapping up his hands like Scott told him to, even if it always felt like crap. Maybe he wasn't doing it right, and he totally considered that. All the twists and turns of the bandages could really confuse a guy. When his handiwork seemed to be alright, he settled for putting on his gloves. "So yeah. Elbows and knees are, last time I checked, strikes!" Jerry grinned as he got in a bit more heckling. "Go ahead and give me your best. Actually, save your best. You're gonna need it for the main event, aren't you?"

Today was going to be the main event, so-to-speak, the day that ended the argument, but Jerry had forgotten to put up flyers all around the school to advertise. Turned out that putting the day off could be a blessing in disguise, since this would give him a chance to figure out what Trav was made of and plan accordingly. If fortune decided to yet again shaft Jerry and, instead, favor Trav, the only person who would know about it besides the two of them was Trav.

Oh and all the other people in the gym but fuck 'em.

Jerry picked up his mouth guard and cocked his head towards the cage. "A'right. Let's go."
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