True combat conditions for the 1st Annual NFKA Monster Marathon. The fat kid and d started their non-stop best of 100 match at high noon. indian versus buka. a couple hearty judges ( donna and bruce ) and a magnificently brave audience of three huddled miserably against the blasting sand and grueling wind.
Each flyer began with a roll of pennies + one. losing one penny for each point lost. lose all your pennies, lose the match. Alternating top and bottom points, the match quickly became a brutal, tangled, soggy, fookin mess.
Battle after battle, this slug-fest continued on and on non-stop. After 3 hours of flying ( including a cumulative hour spent retrieving their growing collection of blown out and totally hammered kites ) 50 points had been flown with a total of 4 pennies difference between them. onward through the raging wind, horizontal rain, and stinging sandblasted body cavities, these two hearty comrades flew onward to glory.
Then suddenly, without warning, just as the typhoon blew in from Taiwan and the asian frogs began to rain down on our soft heads, both judges jumped ship, deserted their post and scurried like rats from the ravaged beach, dragging the battered audience to safety, as they staggered back to their warm hovels to lick their wounds.
They just disappeared, leaving d and the fat kid completely exposed, knee deep in quicksand and frogs, to slug it out alone and count their own damn pennies, thank you very much ( enough being enough ).
Although on a good day the fat kid and his amazing indians are unbeatable, on this miserable day the bukas were perfectly delighted in the high winds. They danced their little selves silly for hours and laughed without mercy as the indians, with their puny bamboo spines, first turned to spaghetti, then into jello, and finally began stacking up on the beach like so many dead jelly fish until finally, the fat kid threw his last 4 pennies into the wind..
This was truly a marathon of survival proportions. 6+ hours of pure helljust as a great marathon is supposed to be.
Final score: buka 51 indian 26 ( insert all applause here, since our original fans weren't around to whistle, stomp and clap as would be expected for two such heroic, stubborn and brain-dead skybrothers ).
( wEd: Note that the marathon was supposed to be held on Saturday, but an anonymous informant says that d. chicken'd out because he maintained that there was not enough wind
neener neener )
After the marathon, the fat kid and d got themselves to shelter, shared two whole tummy fulls of hornitos and curly fries, then hugged each other tightly to get warm ( although d began to question the fat kids motivation after d. got warm and jeff still wanted to be close ).