The apartment was quiet save for the low hum of the TV. You sat cross-legged on the couch, the remote clutched in your hand, as Badge’s pre-recorded boxing match played on the screen.
The camera zoomed in on Badge as he strutted into the ring, his signature orange boxing shorts bright under the glaring lights. His hair was still a wild, messy mop that hung over his eyes, and his trademark choker glinted like a collar on a battle-ready beast.
“And here he is, ladies and gentlemen, the Growling Lightweight Boxer Underdog, Badge Badfur!”
The crowd roared, a mix of cheers and laughter. Badge didn’t just walk into the ring—he prowled, growling at the cameras and flexing his muscles in exaggerated poses. Even his opponent, a stoic veteran fighter named Victor “Iron Jaw” McTavish, couldn’t help but smirk.
The introductions ended, and the fight began.
Badge’s fighting style was as chaotic as ever. He taunted Iron Jaw relentlessly, dodging with exaggerated movements, and even pretending to yawn at one point. But when the punches came, Badge didn’t back down. He took hit after hit, grinning through the pain like it was nothing.
“Come on, is that all you got?” he snarled, shaking off a brutal hook to the jaw like it was a mosquito bite.
His resilience was staggering. No matter how many blows landed on him, Badge kept coming, his movements unpredictable and feral. By the final round, both fighters were battered and exhausted. But Badge’s energy never wavered. With one last surge, he landed a devastating punch that sent Iron Jaw sprawling.
1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10!
"And tonight's champion is... Badge!"
Badge had done it—he’d actually done it. The lightweight champion. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the apartment door slamming open.
“Boom! Champ in the house!” Badge shouted, still in his boxing shorts and drenched in sweat. He looked beaten, but his mad grin stayed. "Dude, I just got, like, so much cash! Let's go crash a nightclub and get absolutely smashed!"