Post by sam on Sept 18, 2013 18:22:24 GMT -6
Years ago.
A young Sam with a rose in his hand, bounded up towards Jeanie's dorm room. His eyes aglow as he walked onto the floor. He was wearing a white t-shirt that hugged his muscular frame, baggy blue jeans, and wheat colored Timberland boots. He took a big inhale to make sure his cologne was applied properly. A last look at the rose in his hand, he knocked on the door.
"One second." Jeanie opened the door. "Sam?! Um...what are you...."
Sam grabbed her and kissed her. Which she returned just as good as he gave.
"...doing here?" Sam finished her sentence. "Well I had some time to think about...well, you know....the other night. I just wanted to say that I..."
"Yeah Sam about that..." She noticed the the rose in his hand, and knew by the kiss she received and the stammering in Sam's speech what was to follow next. "...I...um..."
"Who's at the door, Jeanie?" A deep voice called out from her dorm room.
Following in on his curiosity, the young man, shirtless and buttoning his jeans, came to Jeanie's door.
"Sam?" He said.
"Ron?" Sam stared in disbelief.
"Uh, guys--wow this is awkward." Jeanie tried to bring Sam inside, but Sam wouldn't budge. "Ron, gimme a sec."
She stepped outside to close the door.
"Sam, I--well...we all know how you are with--with girls, and we had that one night stand...and I..."
His stunned disbelief, quickly melted into a stewing rage as Jeanie desperately searched for the right words to say. She knew his heart had broken right in front of her. Sam turned his back to Jeanie, tossing the remnants of the now black rose onto her doorstep.
Lifeless.
[_+_]
Later that day.
The dojo known as 'Training Grounds' was home and headquarters of one Master Bruce Inoue. One part gym, one part martial arts training facility, if you were looking to get in shape, this was the place to be. If you were looking to apply yourself to the martial arts however...
...this would be your church.
The rigid, hybrid combination of Muay Boran and Judo that Master Inoue preached was accepted as gospel truth by all who followed. Though the congregation were a relatively small numbe,r their conviction to this lifestyle was absolute. Their faith in his teachings, unquestioned.
As a young Sam Johnson applied more tape to his knuckles, Master Inoue--Sam's longtime father figure--took a long stare at him. . As with most father and sons, Sam was ready to challenge Inoue, and assert his manhood. Today, something was different; he sensed something uneasy about his young charge.
"Today, you go down 'old man'." Sam's words had an air of false bravado.
"This will be defeat number 476 for you, Sam." Inoue countered as he tightened the drawstring on the lower half of his gi pants. "In a row, I might add."
"You cheated on win 337, Master Inoue." Sam shouted out as he put his mouthpiece in.
"My eyes were closed for that one, son."
Sam prepped himself in his fighting stance. "Show-off." He mumbled under his breath.
The two clashed in an age old battle of youth vs experience, skill vs mastery. Sam would connect, but for every one shot he'd land Inoue would land three. Attempting to grapple Inoue to the mat, Sam was stopped at every turned. Inoue attempted a hip throw of his own, but Sam landed on his feet. However, Inoue pulled him in, landing a hard spinning kick to the ribs. The impact sent Sam to the mat. Channeling his earlier rage at his betrayal by Jeanie and Ron, Sam charged Inoue throwing wild strikes, that were easily parried and countered. Eventually Inoue sent Sam down to the mat courtesy of a hard teep kick to Sam's jaw.
"You're fighting with desperation in your fists, Sam. Concede defeat." Inoue said with his hand extended.
The temperature in their immediate vicinity dropped several degrees. Sam looked at Inoue menacingly. His left eye pupil radiating a hard indigo tint, his right eye a faint indigo tint.
"Not.....this......time." Sam replied.
"Sam? You--you're...."
Sam blew the black mist into the air, then launched into an attack, landing heavy roundhouse kicks to Inoue's body. His punches became a blur to watch, and he scored at will to Inoue's body. Shooting a double leg takedown, Sam quickly mounted Inoue and prepared to drop a fist. Catching hold of his senses, the effect stopped, and Sam's eyes returned to their normal brown shade. Sam stood to his feet and walked towards the corner. Inoue slowly stood up and walked towards Sam, clutching at his ribs.
"You embrace the dark arts, and bring them into this dojo?!" He slapped Sam viciously across the face. "Pack your bags."
"But Master Inoue, I--"
The stern look of Master Inoue's scorn was not about to budge. Sam with his head hung low, stepped outside the ring and went to his room on the second floor of the dojo to pack his bags. He came back wearing a black pair of sweatpants, a bluesweat shirt and a napsack strung tightly to his frame. He adjusted his black durag, as he approached Master Inoue.
"Your father would be ashamed of you, as am I." Inoue said coldly. "Leave this dojo Sam. You are never to return."
Ron and Jeanie came into the dojo and noticed they could cut the tension between Sam and Inoue with a knife. Sam's eyes hardened upon Inoue's rebuke and he parted through three of his best friends without so much as even uttering a word.
"I...told Sam to leave. When we sparred, he attacked me with such a rage..." Master Inoue explained, still trying to gather his thoughts. "He's been training in the Forbidden Style, and he used it against me."
"It's--it's my fault, Inoue." Jeanie's eyes cast to the ground. "All of this."
[_+_]
Later that Evening.
"Who wants to step in this cage against me?!" A boisterous fighter declared.
After an extended walk of about twenty blocks, Sam found himself in Queensbridge, not too far from where he grew up. Queensbridge's infamous 'Pit', a bar-cum-fight club was in his sights. He walked downstairs and into the bar, a haze of smoke nearly clouded his view. Opportunity, however pulled his attention towards the cage.
"I'll put up the cash I won tonight if anyone out there can beat me!" The fighter challenged.
The boisterous fighter's name was Corey Stewart, a former Golden Gloves champion who was the next big name in boxing. He'd hooked up with an unscrupulous promoter, then inadvertently killed somebody in what was supposed to be a friendly boxing exhibition. Boxing promoters looked at Corey as a potential insurance disaster and refused to book his fights. As a result, he retreated to the underground fight circuit, gaining notoriety as one of its fiercest fighters.
"Isn't there anybody out there who can give me a real fight?!" He pointed to the person they were carrying out the cage. "This last guy was supposed to make me break a sweat, and he couldn't even make me break wind!! I'm begging somebody, step in the ring please?!"
His adrenaline surged, highlighted by an electric smile that Sam wore from ear to ear. "I'll fight you."
"Who said that?!" Corey said looking out into the crowd.
By then Sam had entered the cage. He took off his sweatshirt, revealing a pretty chiseled frame. Without his trademark Muay Thai shorts, Sam was forced to fight only in a pair loose fitting gray sweatpants he changed into before leaving the dojo. He took his shoes and socks off.
"I hope 'chu know what 'chu doing, kid." A man with a heavy Guatemalan accent said as Sam walked by
"Me too...heh, heh." Sam chuckled innocently.
Meanwhile, Corey looked at Sam across from him. "A boy?! This boy is supposed to give me some competition tonight?! You should all be ashamed of yourselves, ha ha ha!!!"
Everybody pulled tens from out of their pocket. A lone figure sat in the corner, his fedora hang over his eyes. His suit was crisp, and he produced and even crisper $20 bill from his jacket pocket "Put mines on the kid."
"The kid?" His attendant questioned him.
This mysterious man merely pointed, and his attendant immediately knew not to question him again. Back in the ring, Corey and Sam stepped in the center of the mat.
"Seeing as I'm going to put you to rest soon, I'll let you have the first shot." Corey teased. "Go ahead kid, be somebody."
"It's your face." Sam replied.
Sam drilled Corey with a knee that sent him reeling backwards. Corey barely bounced off the cage when he looked up at Sam. Blood started to trickle down his cheek. The crowd was stunned.
"This is gonna be fun." Corey responded.
Corey moved in, drilling Sam with combinations. Left and rights to the body, lefts and rights to his head. Sam would respond with hard kicks to Corey's legs in an attempt to slow him down, but they had little effect. A roundhouse kick to Corey's ribs, resulted in Sam walking into a haymaker of an uppercut that dropped him.
"You're finished, kid."
Sam squinted his eyes, as the temperature around him began lower. The adrenaline pumped crowd and his opponent didn't know the difference. Not to mention, the bright light above the ring, drowned out Sam's now indigo hued eye, and the faint hued eye moreso.
"No, I'm not." Sam's voice was gutteral.
When Sam stood up in his fighting stance, Corey moved in to finish him off. Sam responded with hard uppercut of his own, and a hook punch that staggered Corey. Digging his feet into the mat for better leverage Sam prepared himself.
"Satousi." Sam said aloud.
He struck Corey with a brutal roundhouse kick, then followed it in one motion with an equally vicious spinning back hook kick. Corey's head bounced off the mat, unconscious.
For a moment, the crowd was silent enough to hear a needle drop. Then they roared its approval of their newest sensation.
"'Chu one loco kid." The heavily accented man said as he handed Sam back his clothes.
"Not crazy, talented." The man in the corner said. "Peoples, tend to the bar and leave me and our new friend to talk."
Peoples did as the suited man said, and left them alone.
"I have to admit, I never thought one of Inoue's would ever fight here." The mystery man lit a cigar. Sam looked surprised. "That was the Murderous Intent finisher, wasn't it?"
"Yeah, but how did--"
"My name is Matsui Sakurai, and if you truly want to be the World's Strongest, you will listen carefully to everything I have to say." The man introduced himself with his hand extended.
Responding to the ambition in his soul, Sam shook Matsui's hand.
"My name is Sam, and you have my undivided attention."
"Great, come to Japan with me for starters," Sakurai began with a smile. "From there, the world is ours."
[_+_]
Presently.
That day had weighed on Sam's mind ever since he's been back to New York. Sam was decked out in an indigo, button-down Louis Vutton shirt, black Perry Ellis Jacket and black Perry Ellis slacks. He stepped into a comfortable pair of black Louis Vutton shoes, and applied the last of his cologne. Tonight, he and Jeanie are going to dinner to discuss the new aspects of their professional relationship; to talk business.
His phone rang to bring his mind back to the present.
"Yeah, Jeanie. I'm ready." Sam said. "Be down in a sec."
It's just that between them, business is always personal.
A young Sam with a rose in his hand, bounded up towards Jeanie's dorm room. His eyes aglow as he walked onto the floor. He was wearing a white t-shirt that hugged his muscular frame, baggy blue jeans, and wheat colored Timberland boots. He took a big inhale to make sure his cologne was applied properly. A last look at the rose in his hand, he knocked on the door.
"One second." Jeanie opened the door. "Sam?! Um...what are you...."
Sam grabbed her and kissed her. Which she returned just as good as he gave.
"...doing here?" Sam finished her sentence. "Well I had some time to think about...well, you know....the other night. I just wanted to say that I..."
"Yeah Sam about that..." She noticed the the rose in his hand, and knew by the kiss she received and the stammering in Sam's speech what was to follow next. "...I...um..."
"Who's at the door, Jeanie?" A deep voice called out from her dorm room.
Following in on his curiosity, the young man, shirtless and buttoning his jeans, came to Jeanie's door.
"Sam?" He said.
"Ron?" Sam stared in disbelief.
"Uh, guys--wow this is awkward." Jeanie tried to bring Sam inside, but Sam wouldn't budge. "Ron, gimme a sec."
She stepped outside to close the door.
"Sam, I--well...we all know how you are with--with girls, and we had that one night stand...and I..."
His stunned disbelief, quickly melted into a stewing rage as Jeanie desperately searched for the right words to say. She knew his heart had broken right in front of her. Sam turned his back to Jeanie, tossing the remnants of the now black rose onto her doorstep.
Lifeless.
[_+_]
Later that day.
The dojo known as 'Training Grounds' was home and headquarters of one Master Bruce Inoue. One part gym, one part martial arts training facility, if you were looking to get in shape, this was the place to be. If you were looking to apply yourself to the martial arts however...
...this would be your church.
The rigid, hybrid combination of Muay Boran and Judo that Master Inoue preached was accepted as gospel truth by all who followed. Though the congregation were a relatively small numbe,r their conviction to this lifestyle was absolute. Their faith in his teachings, unquestioned.
As a young Sam Johnson applied more tape to his knuckles, Master Inoue--Sam's longtime father figure--took a long stare at him. . As with most father and sons, Sam was ready to challenge Inoue, and assert his manhood. Today, something was different; he sensed something uneasy about his young charge.
"Today, you go down 'old man'." Sam's words had an air of false bravado.
"This will be defeat number 476 for you, Sam." Inoue countered as he tightened the drawstring on the lower half of his gi pants. "In a row, I might add."
"You cheated on win 337, Master Inoue." Sam shouted out as he put his mouthpiece in.
"My eyes were closed for that one, son."
Sam prepped himself in his fighting stance. "Show-off." He mumbled under his breath.
The two clashed in an age old battle of youth vs experience, skill vs mastery. Sam would connect, but for every one shot he'd land Inoue would land three. Attempting to grapple Inoue to the mat, Sam was stopped at every turned. Inoue attempted a hip throw of his own, but Sam landed on his feet. However, Inoue pulled him in, landing a hard spinning kick to the ribs. The impact sent Sam to the mat. Channeling his earlier rage at his betrayal by Jeanie and Ron, Sam charged Inoue throwing wild strikes, that were easily parried and countered. Eventually Inoue sent Sam down to the mat courtesy of a hard teep kick to Sam's jaw.
"You're fighting with desperation in your fists, Sam. Concede defeat." Inoue said with his hand extended.
The temperature in their immediate vicinity dropped several degrees. Sam looked at Inoue menacingly. His left eye pupil radiating a hard indigo tint, his right eye a faint indigo tint.
"Not.....this......time." Sam replied.
"Sam? You--you're...."
Sam blew the black mist into the air, then launched into an attack, landing heavy roundhouse kicks to Inoue's body. His punches became a blur to watch, and he scored at will to Inoue's body. Shooting a double leg takedown, Sam quickly mounted Inoue and prepared to drop a fist. Catching hold of his senses, the effect stopped, and Sam's eyes returned to their normal brown shade. Sam stood to his feet and walked towards the corner. Inoue slowly stood up and walked towards Sam, clutching at his ribs.
"You embrace the dark arts, and bring them into this dojo?!" He slapped Sam viciously across the face. "Pack your bags."
"But Master Inoue, I--"
The stern look of Master Inoue's scorn was not about to budge. Sam with his head hung low, stepped outside the ring and went to his room on the second floor of the dojo to pack his bags. He came back wearing a black pair of sweatpants, a bluesweat shirt and a napsack strung tightly to his frame. He adjusted his black durag, as he approached Master Inoue.
"Your father would be ashamed of you, as am I." Inoue said coldly. "Leave this dojo Sam. You are never to return."
Ron and Jeanie came into the dojo and noticed they could cut the tension between Sam and Inoue with a knife. Sam's eyes hardened upon Inoue's rebuke and he parted through three of his best friends without so much as even uttering a word.
"I...told Sam to leave. When we sparred, he attacked me with such a rage..." Master Inoue explained, still trying to gather his thoughts. "He's been training in the Forbidden Style, and he used it against me."
"It's--it's my fault, Inoue." Jeanie's eyes cast to the ground. "All of this."
[_+_]
Later that Evening.
"Who wants to step in this cage against me?!" A boisterous fighter declared.
After an extended walk of about twenty blocks, Sam found himself in Queensbridge, not too far from where he grew up. Queensbridge's infamous 'Pit', a bar-cum-fight club was in his sights. He walked downstairs and into the bar, a haze of smoke nearly clouded his view. Opportunity, however pulled his attention towards the cage.
"I'll put up the cash I won tonight if anyone out there can beat me!" The fighter challenged.
The boisterous fighter's name was Corey Stewart, a former Golden Gloves champion who was the next big name in boxing. He'd hooked up with an unscrupulous promoter, then inadvertently killed somebody in what was supposed to be a friendly boxing exhibition. Boxing promoters looked at Corey as a potential insurance disaster and refused to book his fights. As a result, he retreated to the underground fight circuit, gaining notoriety as one of its fiercest fighters.
"Isn't there anybody out there who can give me a real fight?!" He pointed to the person they were carrying out the cage. "This last guy was supposed to make me break a sweat, and he couldn't even make me break wind!! I'm begging somebody, step in the ring please?!"
His adrenaline surged, highlighted by an electric smile that Sam wore from ear to ear. "I'll fight you."
"Who said that?!" Corey said looking out into the crowd.
By then Sam had entered the cage. He took off his sweatshirt, revealing a pretty chiseled frame. Without his trademark Muay Thai shorts, Sam was forced to fight only in a pair loose fitting gray sweatpants he changed into before leaving the dojo. He took his shoes and socks off.
"I hope 'chu know what 'chu doing, kid." A man with a heavy Guatemalan accent said as Sam walked by
"Me too...heh, heh." Sam chuckled innocently.
Meanwhile, Corey looked at Sam across from him. "A boy?! This boy is supposed to give me some competition tonight?! You should all be ashamed of yourselves, ha ha ha!!!"
Everybody pulled tens from out of their pocket. A lone figure sat in the corner, his fedora hang over his eyes. His suit was crisp, and he produced and even crisper $20 bill from his jacket pocket "Put mines on the kid."
"The kid?" His attendant questioned him.
This mysterious man merely pointed, and his attendant immediately knew not to question him again. Back in the ring, Corey and Sam stepped in the center of the mat.
"Seeing as I'm going to put you to rest soon, I'll let you have the first shot." Corey teased. "Go ahead kid, be somebody."
"It's your face." Sam replied.
Sam drilled Corey with a knee that sent him reeling backwards. Corey barely bounced off the cage when he looked up at Sam. Blood started to trickle down his cheek. The crowd was stunned.
"This is gonna be fun." Corey responded.
Corey moved in, drilling Sam with combinations. Left and rights to the body, lefts and rights to his head. Sam would respond with hard kicks to Corey's legs in an attempt to slow him down, but they had little effect. A roundhouse kick to Corey's ribs, resulted in Sam walking into a haymaker of an uppercut that dropped him.
"You're finished, kid."
Sam squinted his eyes, as the temperature around him began lower. The adrenaline pumped crowd and his opponent didn't know the difference. Not to mention, the bright light above the ring, drowned out Sam's now indigo hued eye, and the faint hued eye moreso.
"No, I'm not." Sam's voice was gutteral.
When Sam stood up in his fighting stance, Corey moved in to finish him off. Sam responded with hard uppercut of his own, and a hook punch that staggered Corey. Digging his feet into the mat for better leverage Sam prepared himself.
"Satousi." Sam said aloud.
He struck Corey with a brutal roundhouse kick, then followed it in one motion with an equally vicious spinning back hook kick. Corey's head bounced off the mat, unconscious.
For a moment, the crowd was silent enough to hear a needle drop. Then they roared its approval of their newest sensation.
"'Chu one loco kid." The heavily accented man said as he handed Sam back his clothes.
"Not crazy, talented." The man in the corner said. "Peoples, tend to the bar and leave me and our new friend to talk."
Peoples did as the suited man said, and left them alone.
"I have to admit, I never thought one of Inoue's would ever fight here." The mystery man lit a cigar. Sam looked surprised. "That was the Murderous Intent finisher, wasn't it?"
"Yeah, but how did--"
"My name is Matsui Sakurai, and if you truly want to be the World's Strongest, you will listen carefully to everything I have to say." The man introduced himself with his hand extended.
Responding to the ambition in his soul, Sam shook Matsui's hand.
"My name is Sam, and you have my undivided attention."
"Great, come to Japan with me for starters," Sakurai began with a smile. "From there, the world is ours."
[_+_]
Presently.
That day had weighed on Sam's mind ever since he's been back to New York. Sam was decked out in an indigo, button-down Louis Vutton shirt, black Perry Ellis Jacket and black Perry Ellis slacks. He stepped into a comfortable pair of black Louis Vutton shoes, and applied the last of his cologne. Tonight, he and Jeanie are going to dinner to discuss the new aspects of their professional relationship; to talk business.
His phone rang to bring his mind back to the present.
"Yeah, Jeanie. I'm ready." Sam said. "Be down in a sec."
It's just that between them, business is always personal.