There he stood, green hair and all
Petrified with anticipation of what is to come
He could not notion a sound, preparing for the brawl
He thought to himself "This could be fun"

Heat rising off the blacktop
He jolted forward
Ready to pounce and for him to drop
The crowd was watching in rampant disorder

His fists struck and he caught a glimpse of rain
His opponent had struck first and all went away
Laying in the heat soaking up the pain
He began to grimace and growl while to sky turned grey

He stood tall and held his ground
With fury he retaliated, teeth and spit
He howled like a hound
And his opponent ran, lickety split.