[@A Lowly Wretch] [@Irredeemable]

A group effort?! Well this was far more interesting than the free for all Oscar had been expecting. Yes indeed this could brighten up the sense of ennui that had been coming over him recently. The challengers that had been coming to his dojo were all beginning to blur into one. Angry youths with poor fahion sense and questionable choices in hair styles that had no sense of decorum or genteel manners when it came to the beauty of combat. Oh but it was always a good laugh to take such impotent whelps apart and the look on their faces before Oscar smashed them into pulp was something that would always warm his heart - oh but the feeling of their bodies giving way beneath his fists and feet - but this did offer a new world of possibilities for him. Yes... maybe this was just what he needed. 

Then the trio of agents did their best accountant impressions and explained the mouth watering amount of money they would each be able to make if they were to pool their efforts and profits. Which just nailed it for Oscar! Yes, he would dedicate himself to this new goal in life. The bankers were always breathing down Oscar's neck these days, as if such misers had the right to bother someone of his station over something as tawdry as money! This way he could practically hand wave his financial affairs away and get back to the standard of living he was owed as well as seek out a more seasoned form of foe. 

Now he only had to hope that the UAA hadn't decided to play the trickster and set him up with this Zzyxx charac- The door flew open and the dull shade of the bar was lit up by the furious light of an active beam katana! What followed was... just a sad display. Oscar couldn't tell what the issue was truly about but clearly the interloper was after vengeance of one flavour or another. Unfortunatly the two didn't seem to be ready from the same script and Zzyxx's attempts at poetic pose left much to be desired. Perhaps if he tried some Byron or Keats. Fortunately none of them had to suffer through the travesty for long as in a flash the miscreant's head had departed his shoulders in a crimson fountain. 

"My word!" Oscar guffawed. "No call for that sort of thing now." Oh sure there was a sense of flare to such instantaneous death but it wasn't quite Oscar's style.

Still... it was good to see that this agent and potential trainer knew his stuff. Oscar wasn't too proud to admit that he was intrigued by the idea of reaching such speeds with what looked like ease. Improving his technique and physical form was one of the few things Oscar could actually put his pride aside for... most of the time. 

[b]"Any questions before we go, boys and girls?"[/b]  

As it turned out a few people had questions, none more so than the happy ghost perched on the counter top who streamed them off as if afraid that pausing might mean forfeiting her chance to ask something of anyone. Person had called her Omnivore earlier hadn't he? So this was one of Oscar's new teammates. Oh dear... he got the distinct feeling this one would be an uphill battle. She wasn't even properly dressed for the situation! Perhaps she had been interrupted while at a costume party in order to come to this event but that was no excuse not to bring along spare evening wear in case of an emergency. The youth of today! 

"I believe I can answer the first question." Oscar gruffly chimed in, offering a respectful nod to Rutabaga who at least seemed to appreciate a good tailor. "I am The Savile Fist, Oscar Betteridge at your service. I think I might dare offer an educated guess as to whom Whiteout could be." He said, looking to the hyperactive chap who crashed through the window and was sporting a conspicuous mustache of powder. 

"A pleasure, Madam." He said offering her his hand.