A park. He had chosen the field.
For a preliminary fight, a flat, unimpressive landscape was the most useful. A place without many dense, durable obstructions was an asset. This place was just filled with people. It would be unfortunate if he accidentally hit one, the young teacher thought as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, but regular humans were easy to push out of the way. The problem would occur if he was forced to use his techniques...
But he was fairly confident that it wouldn't come to that.
That said, as he walked onto the field, he was immediately swarmed by a gaggle of tournament fans.
"Oh my god! It's Save!"
"Save! Can I have your autograph!?"
"Kyaaaaaaah!"
The young teacher nervously ran a hand through his hair, allowing his styled cut to arrange itself into a messy assembly. It was "hip" his publicist had informed him. This year, his theme was fanservice, to impress the judges and crowd, and have a higher chance of winning. It involved certain things Save wasn't exactly comfortable with, but it was for the school's benefit, so it was worth it...
As though on cue, an ancient white Cadillac skidded to a halt midway onto the field. From it a short, older man who, despite his thick gut, wore a designer shirt and jeans that strained violently against his girth, exited and ran up to the group.
"Hey! Back off!" He hollered, elbowing his way through the crowd of fans until they dispersed from the fighter. He stood in front of Save, doubled over and panting.
"Sorry I'm late, traffic on the G95, you understand." He grumbled. He then caught his breath and looked around.
"He ain't here yet?" the old man remarked, in what was obviously an Brooklyn Italian accent. Save shook his head.
"Alright kid, remember: Flashy and Powerful! That's you, baby! Talk as much as you can. Play the mind game. Let people hear you and see you beat this guy. Eh?"
"I have to talk to him?" Save questioned, looking a bit perplexed.
"Yeah. You know, get him rattled. Listen, I know, the ladies love this s**t, you know I know. You just wait, they're gonna call you the friggin 'HoH heartbreaker' by the time this thing's over."
"Heartbreaker...?"Save muttered incredulously, obviously somewhat put off by the sound of it..
The older man didn't notice. He seemed to be too preoccupied with winking at a group of young women who looked back at him, horrified. Shrugging, the old man borught his attention back to the figher.
"You ought to see the duds I bought you for the main competition. You'll be the hottest gangbanger in the friggin games..."
"Gangbanger? Are you sure you know w-" Save began, but was quickly cut off by the short, fat man.
"Am I sure I know?! Hey! Hey!" He repeated, for dramatic effect, "Look at me! You knew when you hired me that I know what I know. And you know that I know everything there is to know about knowing about this crap. So don't'chu ask me if I know." He shouted, stepping in to yelling up at the significantly taller Save.
"All right, I'm sorry..." Save mumbled, stepping back and looking around. Could his opponent take any longer...?
