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With an "Aarrhh!!" Fred attacked, intending to make short work of the
girl. After all, were they not the fairer sex, untrained in the arts of
war, intended only to service men's pleasures by singing and dancing and
carrying on and what have you? But as Fred closed in the girl let loose a
gasp of fear and swung the stout oaken Victorian era chair into Fred's
cranium. Splinters flew and Fred saw stars. Still that failed to end
Fred's lunge, as our "hero?" had frequently taken harder knocks from his
knightly instructor, the venerable Lord Hogungrim Bastard-Axe. He flew
into the girl, throwing both to the floor. Fred groped blindly while
trying to restrain her, but could not get her arms, instead finding two
oddly soft and bulbous things between his fingers. And that's when
the female really panicked, screaming something at the top of her lungs in
some strange language, and landing blow after blow to Fred's face. Each
strike was delivered with the side of her palm, something Fred had not
heard of, but which hurt like hell, stunning him momentarily and allowing
the girl to squirm out from under him. Fred got up to see her running for
the door. In a daze he lunged again, smashing the girl face-first into the
wall and landing on top of her again, this time from behind. It felt like
a wild hellcat in his arms, as she elbowed him over and over again in the
stomach and burst free to stand panting some distance away. Fred leapt to
his feet. He was bleeding badly, but so was the girl, and it was not
likely she could outlast him in a protracted brawl. He was now between her
and the door, and his options were to...
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10/22/2003 4:27:11 PM
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