Punchy's First Time

It was another sunny day in the Valley. Cars were honking and trash rolled along in the wind like miniature urban tumbleweeds, but nothing was about to get Punchy down. She was right on time, according to her internal clock, as she jogged down Balboa Boulevard. Her gym was small and not exactly in a stellar little strip mall, but she loved it. She finally reached Vanowen St and pulled out her keys. As she flipped the closed sign to open, the clock ticked over to exactly 9 AM. She excitedly pumped a fist in the air at such perfect timing, and at her winning the little game she was playing in her own head.

It was at about that moment she noticed something curious on the floor. It was a letter. While her letters were usually directed to a mailbox, this one seemed to have been slipped through the door. She picked it up and examined it. It had no return address, or any address on it for that matter, only her name in sepia ink, written in shockingly perfect cursive. On the other side was, of all things a wax seal, like some kind of Shakespearean movie. Pressed in the crimson wax was a fancy, curved letter F.

The first thought in her head was the most logical: This is some kind of ultra-romantic secret admirer finally letting himself be known. She flushed at the thought of sharing wine with a suave and probably foreign fellow, his white shirt mostly open and billowing in the sunset breeze, with a voice like Antonio Banderas. Definitely a fancy cheeses sorta character. Probably named Fernando. Not about to let destiny wait, the robot rabbit ripped the side of the envelope open to read his proposal as soon as possible.

“Salutations,

My name is Sir Baron Von Grappley. I have heard through some of my local sources that this establishment is ran by quite the fighter; A winner of multiple state and countrywide robot boxing championships for years in a row, and a personal trainer to the stars. An animatronic of such pedigree is just kind of person I am in search of for a personal project of mine. I am in the process of creating an international federation of mechanical fighters, and, once assembled, a championship of proportions the likes of which have yet to be seen! Only the cream of the crop in the worlds of boxing, martial arts, and all forms of fisticuffs and general close combat. I would like to discuss this further with you, Ms. Punchy, but rather than in writing, in person.”

As the letter abruptly cut off, the automatic bell of the front door chimed. Punchy looked up from the paper in her hands and gasped. It was lucky the gym had such high ceilings, for before her stood a massive robotic bear. He was lighting his pipe and trying to look nonchalant, like he had just so happened to stroll in while she was reading his letter. The effect worked perfectly. He glanced her way, grinning toothily.

“So, are you interested?” he mused, his british accent apparent, even in such a short sentence.

“I was BORN interested!” She replied immediately, crunching the letter in her fists as she clenched them for effect.

He looked beyond pleased, biting the end of his pipe and using his now freed (and quite huge) hands to start to roll up his sleeves. “While I could interview you and we could share some tea, I much prefer a more hands on approach. So how about we have a bit of a go?”

Punchy was already slipping on her boxing gloves, “You had me at ‘hands on’!” She shouted, taking that moment to spring up and aim for a shot at his massive jaw. His pipe clattered to the floor, smoldering on the tiles. A fire was ignited in him.

“I like your moxy, but you’re not always going to have the advantage of a head start, Ms. Punchy.” He hummed, his gigantic fist suddenly launching toward her and catching her whole body, sending her flying into a wall.

The robot rabbit, while well-awarded and a good fighter, had never danced outside of her own weight class. This guy was humongous and his ears were nearly scraping the ceiling. If she was going to win this one, she was going to have to avoid his hits and find his weak spots.

“If you can peel yourself from the drywall, luv, I would like to give you the rules of our little match,” his jolly voice rang out from the other side of the room. Dusty, but not the least bit deterred, she rushed for him, trying to use her light agility to her advantage. He was huge, and his shots took momentum. She just had to be keen and stay out of his grip. “Good to see you’re still in for this fight. If you want in, you’re going to have to knock me to one knee. Good luck~” She narrowly avoided another rocket punch from the bear, the wind of his passing fist whipping her ears. While she wasn’t one to hit below the belt in standard fights, this was, for one thing, far from standard, and for another, all she could reach while standing on the ground. His legs were heavy, and looked to be quite sturdy. Experimentally she slammed a glove into his kneecap. He was unshaken, and, even worse, took this advantage to swing around and dent her into another gym wall.

She came right back at him full force. Her felt was starting to look a tad shabby from the particles of wall stuck on it, but she wasn’t ready to throw in the towel. Just what she needed happened as she approached him. His timing was off as he threw out an extendo-punch a little too early. Instead of avoiding it, she hopped onto his fist and sprinted up his arm. The speed of his arm retracting only helped her gain force as she lunged at his face, cracking his monocle and making his steps waver. He steadied himself quickly. Before he could retaliate, she was on his other shoulder, swiftly getting him in the jaw for a second time, and knocking his hat a skew. His fingers brushed her but she retreated back to the floor, arms up defensively and determination in her eyes.

He had miscalculated this woman. She was much more formidable than he had assumed. While he didn’t like being disadvantaged, he did enjoy being surprised. He came for her and she shuffled behind him, hopping and using the gap between his hips and torso as a ledge. He turned suddenly and she gripped onto his suit. He tried to grab for her, but his massive hands couldn’t reach the middle of his back. He was starting to get frustrated, spinning and attempting to knock her off. She just held on, slowly scaling his back. “Now, I came here for a fight, not for a monkey on my back,” he chided.

He did not expect the feeling of thighs around his head, but there they were. She squeezed and gripped her legs around his neck as tight as she could, and started to pummel at his head like a punching bag. Every time he grabbed for her, she threw herself back, hanging on with just her legs as she hung from him like a cape, only to rise back up and return to bludgeoning the back of his head. He finally pried her from his neck by one of her legs and lightly tossed her in the air, like someone about to serve a volleyball, then slammed her into the floor as hard as he could.

He did regret the force a bit the moment after he did it. He had let his frustration take over. Just the top of Punchy’s head was visible, as the other five and a half feet of her frame had become one with several layers of Earth. Worried he had harmed her pretty badly, he bent over and took a hold of her ears, pulling her from the tile fragments and dirt like a carrot. She seemed dazed. He held her up to inspect her. “Ms Punchy?” He asked, hoping for a response.

Her eyes shot open, and she shouted something like “KA-CHAWW!!” As her dirty gloves caught him in the nose at her full force. Startled, he stumbled, part of his foot catching the newly made hole in the floor. The sound of his metallic butt hitting the floor rumbled the whole building like an earthquake, slightly displacing all of the equipment in the gym. He just stared at her, his cracked monocle falling from its perch and shattering.

The dust settled and the two were silent. After a moment Punchy spoke, “So does knocking you on your butt count?” She grinned, missing a couple of teeth and the top of her head noticeably flattened. He cleared his throat.

“Yes... I suppose,” He straightened his tie, still a bit in awe of being defeated by a tiny woman playing possum by pretending to be a root vegetable. Yanks were a weird lot. He rooted in his pocket and pulled out a metal, sporting his fancy F. “Welcome to Five Fights at Freddy’s.”

A mirror fell from the wall and crashed behind them. The damage to the gym was apparent, and a rather large crowd of humans were peering in from the street. “...And I will pay for any repairs.”

In the most unexpected move of the morning, the little rabbit hugged Grappley. “Thank you for the AWESOME fight! You’ve gotta teach me how to do that thing with your arms like ptchoooooo and I can help you get more flexible so you can reach your back! This is everything I’ve ever wanted!”

Yanks were very weird.