The yard at the county jail is loud with the shouts of both inmates and personnel. It's nighttime, the area lit with only floodlights. What is happening here would no doubt be deemed highly unethical and illegal... but when there's money involved, things of such nature can easily go unseen. That, and there is no form of entertainment that is as desired as bloodsport.
A crowd of about a hundred men - inmates and guards - crowd around a circle about twenty to thirty feet in width. Within that circle are two inmates. One is a large, imposing man with a scar over his cheek and numerous other wounds from his battles in incarceration.
The other is a slim black man with long hair... and an axe to grind.
Both men are covered in sweat. Scratches. Bruises. And blood. Neither man is willing to yield.
The large man spits out a small amount of blood and glares at the smaller man. "That little punch of yours ain't shit, darlin'. Better man up and do some real shit if you wanna keep sucking air!"
The smaller man smiles like a demented Cheshire cat. "Oh? Then why did you just spit out one of your teeth? Was that not real enough for you, bitch?"
The larger man goes postal. He just knows he is NOT being called a bitch by this skinny little -
He happens to look up, and time seems to slow. The little man who was ten feet away from him is now less than two feet away. In the air. Closing in on him. Coming out of his fit of rage, in the final milisecond, the larger man realizes his mistake. A mistake he made a point to always avoid in the countless fights he's survived and won... Never drop your hands.
The little man's knee snuffed his face before he could even put up his guard. Before he could stumble to the ground, the little man grabbed him in a front facelock with one arm... grabbed him by his jumpsuit's waistline with the other... lifted him up in the air... AND DROPPED HIM FACEFIRST INTO A KNEE STRIKE FROM THE LITTLE MAN. The big man's world went black.
The spectators roared with excitement as the little man stood victorious, his uniform tattered and torn from the back to back fighting he had done that night. This was the fourth man he had put away in the span of an hour.
The guard who was in charge of booking the fights in the jail was amazed and impressed... not to mention getting a healthy cut from the bets from both guards and inmates. He looked at the little man with long hair. "Not bad there, boy... feel like another before the night's out?"
The little man looked up with an impossibly carefree glint in his eye... and simply responded...
"Now or Never."