“Fine then. Let’s finish this dance? You and me. For the first time. Let’s see who wins," I'm told as I'm pulled upward off the mat.
"Yeah," I say, knocking his hand away from me with a rising block from my left hand as soon as I've got my feet steady under me, "that's the bloody POINT!" as I turn my entire body into an uppercut, slamming my right bicep into his chin, knocking his head backwards.
Red takes a half-step backwards, then half-glares, half-grimaces at me from behind his mask. Glaring right back, I tap my chin twice with my index finger before brushing my fingers along my chin in his direction. Red knows what I'm on about. He takes that half-step forwards again, swinging his right arm forward and clobbering the side of my face with his forearm, knocking ME a half step back (possibly a touch more than half). Oof. I felt that. Still, not giving up after one round of this. I step forward again, again connecting the inside of my forearm with his jaw and rocking his head backwards. Again, the half-step back, and again, the grimace. Also again, the return forearm shiver.
The calculus of this exchange was a touch unusual. I couldn't hit as hard as Red, but my strikes were targeting his neck, whereas my back was getting largely left alone. We exchanged another uppercut and forearm and I felt I could only keep this going for so long. His grimace didn't fade this time, so it might be the same for him. Either way, it looked it was time to take this up a notch. The crowd was getting manic for this exchange. I let out a bit of a growl (I debated a wild yell but it was too far outside my experience. It might alert Red I had something planned with this. He probably already knew, but best not to call intention,) grabbed the back of his head and threw three forearm uppercuts (European uppercuts, as they were appropriately called in these parts) in a row, sending him staggering back a bit, visibly wincing even behind the mask and touching his neck with his hand.
He came forward and fired off his return salvo. Two forearm shots, and one that "missed" a bit, basically catching me in the chin with a right hook. He added extra fervour to that last one, and I was left fighting off dizziness and stepping backwards. Rolling with it, I backed into the ropes, then shot off of them, letting out a shout as I ran as hard into him with the forearm uppercut as I could. He covered a pained groan with a growl and likewise fell backwards, moving to bounce back off the ropes and then come back at me, swinging his forearm as hard as he could.
Only I declined to see whether I could take that shot or not, instead dropping down onto my back and letting his momentum carry him completely past me, grabbing for his legs and tripping him up before rolling backwards, standing with my right boot in between his legs, just above the knee. I took his right leg, wrapped it around mine, tucked the toe of that boot behind his left ankle, then pulled his left foot back, wrapping the toe around my right leg, locking his in place before leaning backwards, reaching for his chin and trying to hold a bridge as I did.