That was a match?!?! You could have fooled me...

Blunt, short, and inimpressive... those were the exact words that Kauffman was tossing around inside his head, having witnesses, in his own opinion, one of the most boring fights he'd ever have the pleasure of sitting through. The two contestants were pretty worn out... they took each other to the limit. And yet he was not impressed at all. Trask looked over at his cooleague.

"Not up to your level, eh Sean?"

Sean shrugged. "I'd have went for a knockout or something much earlier in the match. I mean come on... the guy left himeself open on several occasions. A real fighter would have capitalized when he saw those openings."

Trask laughed. He appreciated the insight from Kauffman, after all, he would know all about competing. Stands to right that the man would know what he was talking about.

"Well, look at it this way, Sean," he explained. "Not everyone is as experienced as you are going into this tournament. A lot of first timers as well as seasoned vetrans are participating. Everyone hopes to emerge from this competition with recognition for the first time. It's natural to see one or two that aren't up to snuff with the rest. Someone has to be the underdog, right?"

Sean wasn't listening. He was fixated on someone else. Judging by the look of him, it was a suprise that he hadn't noticed him before. A tall, bald man, decked out in a suit. Instead of being gangly or scrawny for his height, his entire frame appeared to be rather bulky and muscular. His head clean and shaven, a patch over one eye, he almost appeared rather menacing. The grim figure stood in the entranceway with several other patrons decked out in black suits. Sean just stared on.

"Trask..."

Collin looked his way. "What? I'm trying to enjoy the fight, unlike yourself."

"Who... the hell is that?!?" he said, pointing at the man. Collin looked over, and was at a loss.

"Beats me... a pro wrestler, perhaps?"

That one earned a really sarcastic look from Kauffman.

"Right... what would a pro wrestler be doing here? At a REAL fight?"

Trask smiled and mock slapped him. "How should I know... just watch the fight."

He wasn't the only one who wasn't having much fun. Pattoqna and Lin were also not very interested in the previous fight. Lin twitched in her seat, while Pattoqna sifted through her pocketbook.

"Mint?"

Lin took it and in an instant had it in her mouth. She was getting impatient. When was the real fight gonna start?

"Pattoqna, I'm beginning to think this was a mistake. I didn't expect these fights to be so slow. No wonder I was able to get these tickets so easily."

Pattoqna pat her on the head, giggling at her. Lin pushed her hand away.

"Okay, okay, I get it. But how was I supposed to know?

"Well, the exhibition isn't over yet... maybe the last match will be better. Let's at least see what it's gonna be like."

The prior match was finally over. Another endurance match, so to speak. This one ending in a time limit draw. Both fighters waited as the judges tallied up the points for the rounds and decided on a winner for the bout. Pattoqna looked over to see a rather familiar looking man taping up his wrists and hands. Well familiar to us, anyway. He wiped his hand across his head, sweat beading down on the bridge of his nose. Wiping it off with his hand, he sat in wait on the bench next to the arena. Two other men were massaging his shoulders and loosening up his joints as he watched.

"Pattoqna... Pattoqna?"

"Huh?" was all she could say as she stared at the huge beast passing for a man on the bench. This guy was borderline enormous. Sporting a black eyepatch, it wasn't too hard for him to look very menacing.

"Lin, look... do you see the size of that man?!?! Is he one of the contestants?"

"If he is, I hate it for his opponent. He looks like a tree with legs! Who is it, I wonder?"

Pattoqna could only speculate as well. She had no clue either. The mound of muscle stood and approached center ring, and almost had to look down on his opponent... literally. He had almost a good half foot on his opposition. The announcer called the names out...

"Sagat..."

Adon stood up in his chair when he heard the name. Such a familiar name too. He remembered it well. All the tutorings... the relationship with his father and himself. And now, to see him again after all this time... in competition no less... was something of a suprise.

"Well, well... long time, no see... old man. "

Adon adjusted the volume on his widescreen TV and sat back down. he sipped his drink slowly, paying very close attention to the screen. The fight had started. And what a fight it was. The smaller man, despite giving up some 15-20 lbs, came out fighting. Sagat was unfazed, absorbing most of the punishment early on. Point wise, he was already losing.

Adon smirked. "Showing off, huh? Only one reason I can think of that you're not pressing your obvious advantage..."

Without warning, he thrust a knee into the man's abdomen, knocking all the wind out of him in the process. Following with a swift upward elbow swipe, he quickly put an end to the match... and his opponent.

"That was it."

*Click...* The match was over, and he lost interest. Interest in the end of the program. His mind was still on Sagat.

"It was bound to happen sooner or later. Confrontation. I'll make it to the final dance, old friend. The question is... will you?"

Will he, indeed?