You would think after twelve years of crashing parties that Gren would have developed some fighting techniques over time. Apparently busting through mead halls and wrecking warriors' collective shit year after year doesn't really require any sort of skill or finesse. Not that Wade knows anything about Gren's checkered past, of course. To him, the dark-haired amputee is just one more notch on his "People I Gotta Thrash Today" to-do list.
Especially since he doesn't know about Spaceballs. What, has he been living in a cave for the past few decades?
"Are you serious, dude? You don't know about the Mel Brooks classic? Granted, I'm more of a Blazing Saddles man myself, but I mean come on! You gotta at least give props to the guy who poked fun at George Lucas even before he embarrassed himself with the preq-- fuck!"
Lost in the grip of late 80s nostalgia, Wade doesn't notice the danger until it's too late. Stars explode in his vision as Gren's forehead goes crashing into his nose, sending him stumbling backward into one of the aisles of the store-- the one that has pasta, condiments and baking supplies. A discarded box dolly lies in the center of the aisle, and in a complete instinctive reflex Wade kicks the thing sharply in Gren's direction, intending to trip him up if he should decide to try and close the distance between them. Whether Gren is caught off balance or not, Wade manages to recover quickly, once again adopting a balanced stance even as he glares at the other man with sheer murder in his eyes.
The localization of pain tells him that his nose luckily hasn't been broken, but there's definitely going to be bruising there for at least half an hour. That's not what's got him so pissed off, though.
"Okay. I get it now. You're a Jar Jar Binks fan."
And here he was thinking this would be a friendly brawl. Such a crime against humanity should not go unpunished. Without warning, Wade suddenly charges at Gren with an enraged battle cry, his katanas poised to cut this pretender down for the good of nerds everywhere.
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Especially since he doesn't know about Spaceballs. What, has he been living in a cave for the past few decades?
"Are you serious, dude? You don't know about the Mel Brooks classic? Granted, I'm more of a Blazing Saddles man myself, but I mean come on! You gotta at least give props to the guy who poked fun at George Lucas even before he embarrassed himself with the preq-- fuck!"
Lost in the grip of late 80s nostalgia, Wade doesn't notice the danger until it's too late. Stars explode in his vision as Gren's forehead goes crashing into his nose, sending him stumbling backward into one of the aisles of the store-- the one that has pasta, condiments and baking supplies. A discarded box dolly lies in the center of the aisle, and in a complete instinctive reflex Wade kicks the thing sharply in Gren's direction, intending to trip him up if he should decide to try and close the distance between them. Whether Gren is caught off balance or not, Wade manages to recover quickly, once again adopting a balanced stance even as he glares at the other man with sheer murder in his eyes.
The localization of pain tells him that his nose luckily hasn't been broken, but there's definitely going to be bruising there for at least half an hour. That's not what's got him so pissed off, though.
"Okay. I get it now. You're a Jar Jar Binks fan."
And here he was thinking this would be a friendly brawl. Such a crime against humanity should not go unpunished. Without warning, Wade suddenly charges at Gren with an enraged battle cry, his katanas poised to cut this pretender down for the good of nerds everywhere.
"DEATH TO THE INFIDEL!"