Well then, that was a development. When the Colonel over here had accepted Jimmy’s challenge he had half expected the guy to straight up flop as soon as the beat kicked in, just mumble out some words that either made sense and didn’t rhyme or rhymed but were like “same, bane, lane, kane,” kind of shit. Who would have expected this KFC looking backwoods fool to instead put together a competent string of rhymes and even throw a couple funny ones into the mix, Jimmy even chuckled at that Shrek bit. His shit eating grin had widened further along his cosmetically darkened visage, silvered teeth bared ever so slightly more visibly with each passing rhyme, his eyes increasingly alert, hungry and wildly alive behind the jet sclera of his sunglasses, and settled in a tunnel direct to Kentucky. A real competitor, if only a washed up country bumpkin of a challenger, it appeared that he still had some life left in him to wriggle out by his neck. Mac was clearly distressed by this turn of events, and his desire to get the hell out of Dodge and lack of understanding as to how his having been smacked by a random hick had somehow turned into an impromptu rap battle on the guy’s front lawn didn’t take a nat one spot check to notice, but Jimmy turned his head slightly in his direction and gave him a thumbs up. If the best this guy could do was make a couple off handed comments about virgins and gamers than his shoes were about to make a mighty fine trophy on Mac’s basement wall. He wasn’t paying enough attention to the park at this point to notice that Kenzie was rounding Dahl up and heading over their way, or even to notice that a couple of the more adventurous LARPers had walked over and were standing on the edge of the park watching the show, one was even shooting a video of it on her phone, but he wouldn’t have cared even if he knew. His beat was about to drop, and the only thing on his mind was blood, words and those f@#$ing white leather penny loafers. 

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wp_mQvo9wDM[/youtube]

Jimmy half jumped half hopped in time with the beat dropping twenty seven seconds into the track that had just clicked on over the randomized playlist, putting his silver-white silk and fingerless wrist covering black leather gloved right hand to his chin, as though stroking the beard he didn’t wear. “So this is the Real South then? Well give my apologies to your [b]Sister[/b],” thirty seconds along the track he slung his left hand out to his side and made a fist with the arm bent at a ninety degree angle at the elbow and raised the right hand a few inches off of and above his chin in a mock kickboxer’s low guard, “No offense to her but I’m about to put the Smack Down on her [b]Mister[/b],” thirty three second in now, and he momentarily stuck out his tongue, turned his right fist palm toward the floor and pointed his right thumb at his head in an Undertaker impersonation. “Yeah I roll dice, play games, swing foam blades in [b]spades[/b],” thirty six seconds into the track, and his left foot kicked back into a ninety degree angle towards his left while his right foot pointed straight on towards Kentucky, his left hand holding an imagined gauche dagger at guard just over his left breast at a forty five degree angle and his right swashing at the air with an invisible cut and thrust rapier. “And I might be a LARPer but this ain’t no Game of Thrones,” thirty nine seconds in, and he shifted his weight and half pirouetted on his rear foot, at least so well as he could in leather work boots and having traded his jacket and slacks in for a leather jerkin and fantasy inspired and dressed up motorcycle chaps, before beginning into a simple box step waltz hands raised to grasp a partner’s, rapping as he danced.  “I’m not saying I expect southern ladies to be innocent maids,” forty two seconds in, and step, one two, step one two, side step, and dipping his invisible partner low as he said the last words of his next line, “But your auntie-sister-cousin’s mouth ain’t no place to put your Family Stones,”. 

Jimmy clacked his boots together and grabbed at his crotch to emphasize the last bit of his sentiment before launching into a swift dash of words, faster by far this time than last, evidently building towards something at the end and intending on slamming it all through just in time. “I [b]Slaay[/b] mighty dragons, drain flagons, load my looted treasures in wagons without [b]Appeal[/b],” forty six seconds in and the pace was quickening, his right hand having been raised to his head level before being violently swiped to the side as his feet parted and he shifted his weight into a more aggressive, forward learning stance. “You [b]Laaay[/b] your piggies, like ‘em biggies, smoke your ciggies down in the barn ‘n make ‘em [b]Squeal[/b],” forty seven seconds and change, his hands falling to his waist while he crudely slapped at an imagined pig’s ass and thrust his hips forward, “My [b]Rhymes[/b] grand Designs whole damn lot of them Primes which reveal my spirit’s [b]Genteel[/b],” forty nine seconds, and his right foot crossed behind his left leg toe towards the street while he mock bowed to his opponent, head up and eyes forward all the while, “Your [b]Chimes[/b] petty crimes, pay dimes, explains why you live in a shitty ass [b]Fifth Wheel[/b],” fifty one and change and just enough time to belt out the last of his thoughts. “But ‘ya know Jaime boy, I wish you, the pigs, and your sister-auntie-cousin girlfriend all the [b]best[/b], You enjoy those three little piglets of your’s in your stapled cardboard castle while it lasts, even if it’s [b]Slumming[/b],” fifty four seconds and it was going to be real tight, though he still took the time to grasp at his throat, blow a mock kiss toward Kentucky and mime out himself climbing up onto something and taking a swan dive off of a high tower before finishing things up. “And it is for you, I can tell from your Southern Slaver [b]Chic[/b], let me guess, daddy had lots of money, lots of ambitions, lots of hopes, dreams for you, but you failed his [b]test[/b]? Couldn’t live up, couldn’t matter, you were just too [b]Weak[/b], but heed my words player, this I do attest, I’m the real King Slayer, bringing the North down on you bitch, yeah Winter is [u][b]Coming[/b][/u].” fifty seven seconds barely, and though he refrained from gasping for air in front of his opponent that last barrage had left Jimmy winded. He’d have to take a few deep breaths to recover from that one, but he hoped the words might have stung and irritated Kentucky a bit, he knew it would elicit a few biting laughs from the crowd. They were too nerdy not to catch some of the shit he snuck into that one. 

[center][b][u].................................................................................[/u][/b][/center]

So this is the Real South then? Well give my apologies to your sister,
No offense to her but I’m about to put the Smack Down on her mister, 
Yeah I roll dice, play games, swing foam blades in spades, 
And I might be a LARPer but this ain’t no Game of Thrones, 
I’m not saying I expect southern ladies to be innocent maids, 
But your auntie-sister-cousin’s mouth ain’t no place to put your Family Stones, 

I [b]Slaay[/b] mighty dragons, drain flagons, load my looted treasures in wagons without [b]Appeal[/b], 
You [b]Laaay[/b] your piggies, like ‘em biggies, smoke your ciggies down in the barn ‘n make ‘em [b]Squeal[/b], 
My [b]Rhymes[/b] grand Designs whole damn lot of them Primes which reveal my spirit’s [b]Genteel[/b], 
Your [b]Chimes[/b] petty crimes, pay dimes, explains why you live in a shitty ass [b]Fifth Wheel[/b],

But ‘ya know Jaime boy, I wish you, the pigs, and your sister-auntie-cousin girlfriend all the [b]best[/b], 
You enjoy those three little piglets of your’s in your stapled cardboard castle while it lasts, even if it’s [b]Slumming[/b], 
And it is for you, I can tell from your Southern Slaver [b]Chic[/b], let me guess, daddy had lots of money, lots of ambitions, lots of hopes, dreams for you, but you failed his [b]test[/b]? 
Couldn’t live up, couldn’t matter, you were just too [b]Weak[/b], but heed my words player, this I do attest, I’m the real King Slayer, bringing the North down on you bitch, yeah Winter is [u][b]Coming[/b][/u].