[@Everett]

[i]Despite Gonad's strength, he had tact to spare. His mercies were plentiful but measured. The first time around he had been testing his opponent's martial skill and providing him with an opportunity to take up arms. Again now Gonad would do so, but in a much more blatant manner.

As Sky approached for the second time, Gonad would unfold his burly arms, allowing them to hang at his sides. Sky would be able to feel it. A premonition, talismanic in its power. A creepy-crawly feeling that if he attempted to land a body shot, his face would be beaten five kinds of ugly before it met the floor of the bouncy castle.

If he could read body language with such skill, then Sky would certainly be able to tell that Gonad had been jabbed at more times by more dead men than there were fish in the sea. This was throwing a bottle of kerosene into a fire and expecting to put out the flames. Everything in the barbarian's lean, relaxed posture said, "How much morphine will it take to mercy kill this one at Hope Hospice?"

What occurred next would depend entirely upon whether or not Sky went through with his frontal assault.[/i]