Tweek had been fighting for so damn long. Boxing had started as a way to beat up some kid in 3rd grade to an active coping mechanism growing up. It made him feel confident, strong, like no amount of anxiety and paranoia could reach him.

Now being in his mid twenties, he no longer could enjoy the life on the school’s boxing team. Out of highschool, he could go professional! But he had obligations at the family cafe, now a manager who handled nearly everything.. he couldn’t go pro right now.

So that led him to shady areas, a ring under some randos club. People screaming for a fight, betting money on the fighters. It was ridiculous, it was anxiety inducing! But it was also liberating. Punch away the stress of constantly working all day for parents who never showed him an ounce of proper emotional connection, annoying customers, shit he had to do constantly.

Then he stepped into that ring for what felt like the 100th time that month. Expecting to beat up some random loser. But then they called a name that he didn’t expect. Craig Tucker. That same boy he fought back in 3rd grade, briefly became friends with and fell off around middle school… and as the guy came up to the ring, Tweek focused on how different the situation was. He wasn’t fighting another kid in the schoolyard he barely knew anything about, he was fighting another adult that he had grown up with slightly. how Craig grew so much since the last time they saw each other. And Tweek couldn’t help but blurt out the first thing on his mind.

“GAH! What are YOU doing here?!”