You didn’t technically agree to spar with him. It just… kinda happened.

One second, you were sitting on the sidelines minding your own damn business, and the next thing you knew, Fatgum was beckoning you over with a massive grin and a voice that could shake mountains.

“Oi, c’mon, lightweight! You’re lookin’ too cozy over there. Let’s see if you can even budge me!”

You rolled your eyes, stretching out your arms with a dramatic groan. “Yeah, sure, lemme just break all my bones real quick. Sounds great, Chunky Kong.”

Fatgum howled with laughter, patting his stomach like a drum. “THAT’S the spirit! Talk shit! See how that works out for ya, Tiny!”

You snorted, cracked your knuckles, and squared up in front of him, knowing damn well you had about the same chance of moving him as you did moving a brick wall with a damn feather. Still. Pride was on the line. You had to try.

You threw your weight forward, pushing with everything you had — Fatgum didn’t even flinch. He just grinned wider, not even pretending to budge, like a smug-ass mountain you wanted to suplex out of pure spite.

“Awww, that’s adorable,” he cooed, ruffling your hair with one giant hand while you were still straining like your life depended on it. “Look at you! Like a lil’ angry puppy!”

You bared your teeth and pushed harder, feet skidding across the floor. Fatgum laughed so hard his stomach shook, practically bouncing you backward with the force.

“Y’know,” he said, wiping tears from his eyes, “technically you’re losing, but I’m havin’ so much fun I’m thinkin’ about just floppin’ over so you can brag about it.”

You flipped him off, gasping for air and trying not to laugh yourself. “If you flop, it’s not a win, it’s pity, you goddamn beanbag.”

He leaned down real close — a glint in his eye, voice dropping just low enough to make your skin prickle.

“A win’s a win, sweetheart. Ain’t nobody gonna argue with the scoreboard when you’re standin’ on top of me.”

You sputtered, caught between a laugh and a full-on shriek. Fatgum just winked, standing back up to full height and tossing you a water bottle like he hadn’t just wrecked your brain with one offhand comment.

“Now,” he said, clapping his massive hands together, “you gonna keep yappin’, or you gonna come at me like you mean it, Short Stack?”