A Blood Stained Pit in the Midst of the Wastes (PL2)

Outside his vile feces covered cage the rat-man could hear the howls of the crowd. Beyond the confines of his cell was an immense audience of bloodthirsty mutants screeching in demand for violence and gratification. The Rat King began to salivate at the prospect of earning more blood and acclaim amongst this odd mutant settlement and began to bang his oversized warped hands against the rusted bars of the cage. With every clatter of his steel cage, the crowd shrieked in anticipation, ever impatient for the imminent slaughter. Eventually, the bars gave way and shattered into a fine reddish brown powder. The Rat King pounced onto the ground below and set his eyes upon his predetermined opponent on the other side of the ring.

A large sumo wrestler with multiple cancerous growths on his distended belly slams the ground with a single foot and offers the crowd a nervous smile. "Son-Jun bows to no opponent! I shall defeat you!" he says. The strange growths on his stomach violently shake as he slams his stomach, and holds his ground.

The Rat King eyes Son-Jun's mighty girth warily. He nimbly dances around the heavy sumo wrestler in an attempt to eye him up, paying close attention to Son-Jun's stance. After a couple minutes of the Rat King flitting back and forth in an attempt to bait Son-Jun he grows anxious and lashes out with a swift and vicious slash to the chest with his long greasy talons.

As the rat king slashes at Son-Jun's chest, he grins, and the discolored growths on his stomach begin to leak a strange acidic fluid, which burns to touch. "Prepare yourself rat-man, for Son-Jun, the acid sumo wrestler!" he says as he attempts to crush the rat king under his impressive and now acidic girth. The slashes from earlier leaving his chest slick with blood.

As Son-Jun's incredible weight bears down on the Rat-King. As Jun's mighty girth starts to press down on him the Rat-King's bones start to crack under the immense weight and he screeches in agony and fury. As the acidic bile drips down upon his face he lets out even more high-pitched screeches. The green sickly ooze burns off large swathes of the Rat-King's pale putrid flesh which slough off in vile clumps of rotting skin.

Son-Jun grins, and continues to press his weight down onto the rat king, bellowing with laugher, and slapping his stomach that has now engulfed the creature. "Ah-hah! None can defeat Son-Jun in the ring. Now die rat-king!" He says as he pulls up his stomach, and gets ready to drop it once again for the finishing blow.

A man wearing a tattered red trench coat sits in the stands, watching the fight. His left hand rests on his lap, while his right arm doesn't seem to be in his coat sleeve, which flaps slightly in the breeze. His right eye has a strange crystalline cap over it, which presumably makes it harder to see, so he wears a monocle to help correct his vision. His red hair is spiked, and he has a thick beard connected to his mustache, which reaches his collar bone. He leans forward, intently watching the fight, analyzing both combatants' moves and fighting styles.

The Rat-King rolls out from under Son-Jun's flabby belly and takes a defensive stance on all fours. After pacing around his foe for a few moments he springs into the air with his claws outstretched in the hopes of slashing at the corpulent sumo wrestler's flabby arms.

Son-Jun clumsily attempts to turn himself, his large stomach lurching around, unbalancing his stance. He attempts to raise his arm out of the rat's reach, but its too late, and he screeches in pain as he tries to back away.

The Rat-King licks his blood covered talons and begins to heavily salivate. As drool drips from the vast gashes in his mangled face the sinews and muscle fibers begin to knit back together. "Surrender Jun! Me be the strongest! Me shall rule the Pit!" he cackles maniacally and half of the crowd cries out fanatically in his support. The Rat-King runs forward before coming to a sudden stop and attacking Son-Jun with a sweeping low kick.

Son-Jun clutches his flabby shredded arm, and howls in pain. As he's knocked down by the Rat-kings low kick, he assumes a fetal position, sobbing and quietly repeating, "I surrender, I surrender.. I surrender". Son-Jun sticks the thumb from his good arm into his mouth, and continues to sniffle.

The Rat-King arches his back and lets out an ear-splitting screech that reverberates through the stadium. The crowd supporting him lets out numerous cheers and insults directed toward the cowardly Son-Jun while Jun's fans start to aggressively argue over the validity of the match. "He didn't even sign up for the Tournament! Why the hell was he allowed to participate in the first place!" Jun's fan angrily cry. The Rat-King pays no attention to his fans nor those who resent him and hastily scurries into the dark holding cells below the stadium.

The man in the trench coat stands and limps towards the edge of the ring, then gazes at the crying fat man. He sighs and shakes his head, "No, he will not do." He looks up towards where the rat beast had disappeared, "And he may be strong, but he is more beast than man, and won't be of much use either. Maybe as a soldier or a martyr." He scratches his chin and muses. "Maybe..." He swiftly turns and begins his quick paced hobble away. Leaving the stadium, he walks towards the distance, until the mirage hides him, then he is gone.