…Johnny springs into the air and twists over and over, then spirals downwards, landing in a crouched position, staring coldly into Jericho’s eyes.
“Are you expecting me to give you a standing ovation?”
“No, I expect you to ready yourself for battle.”
“You think you can take me?”
Johnny draws his sword free and trains it upon him. “I THINK nothing, for I KNOW I can!”
Jericho smiles broadly, “I like how big your balls are child, ill placed upon your scrawny frame, but ballsy none the less.”
Johnny chews playfully on his bottom lip as a wry grin slowly paints itself across his lips, before he suddenly throws a desperate sweep out at Jericho legs, trying to knock them from beneath him, but without flair or failure he easily avoids Johnny’s attempted attack, and effortlessly pushes him to the ground.
“Really? Was that all you have?”
“Y-Y-YOU DON’T SCARE ME!” Johnny bellows frantically as he scrambles to his feet again, and holds his sword ahigh once more, reading himself for attack. “N-N-NOW PREPARE FOR B-BATTLE, OR I WILL BE FORCED TO STRIKE YOU DOWN, A-A-AND YOUR DEATH W-WILL BE WITHOUT HONOUR!”
“You forget who it is you have tracked down at the ends of the earth, for my honour was lost to me many moons ago, sold for a flagon of rum and the tender arms of a whore!” he scoffs with twisted lips and a hideous cackle that follows….