This is a bit different. Here I am with my first-ever Punch-Out!! one-shot. I'd like to dedicate this little story to my buddy, Heather. So, I hope you all enjoy it. Remember to leave a review as well!

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"Grocery Bull"

Little Mac's eye twitched involuntarily. It seemed as if he had been standing still for over a long period of time. Technically, that was the very case. Since he was surrounded by various goods such as fruit, vegetables, and meat, it was obvious that he was in the grocery store.

He glanced at his personal trainer and father-figure, Doc, with a desolate look in his eye. The older man had been staring at a lone cake for several minutes now. Well, it was no ordinary cake. Doc inhaled its lovely scent and sighed blissfully. It was a chocolate cake. If Mac had learned only one thing during his time with the man, it was that chocolate was his strength and weakness. Almost every day, Doc would consume at least four to five chocolate bars. It wasn't necessarily the healthiest diet to have, but Mac knew his reasoning would have little to no effect on the good doctor. Yet, that raised the question. What was keeping Doc from purchasing the cake?

"Hey, Mac," Doc called out to the young man. "Do you think I should get the cake," he stopped in mid-sentence as he glanced at a small blue box, "or should I get the box of chocolate bars?"

Mac folded his arms as he gave the older man an exasperated look. Chocolate, chocolate, chocolate! Was that all the man thought about?! The young man's brown eyes stared at the items that rested inside of Doc's shopping cart. There were a couple cases of bottled water, a small assortment of oranges and bananas, a few packets of steak and porkchops, and a large bag of rice. Perhaps this was a sign to let the chocolate go. Mac would have liked that, but he didn't want to argue with Doc and cause a scene, so he simply shrugged his shoulders. The older man sighed heavily at the sight. He knew the choice was going to be a hard and difficult one. Before he continued to think about his small dilemma, his eyes glanced at the shopping cart. It was then that a thought occurred to the trainer.

"Hey, Mac," he called out. "Why don't you go and find some chocolate syrup? I'm sure my mind will be made up by the time you get back."

Mac folded his arms and let out a second sigh. As much as he wanted to complain, he had to admit that running a small errand was better than standing around. He quietly left without question, but on his way out, he could have swore he heard Doc's mental argument beginning to intensify.

– A Few Minutes Later – Within the Condiments Aisle

The young man's trip was relatively short, but it felt dragged out beyond belief. He passed by the other condiments without as much of a care. He came for one thing, and he was going to make sure he got it. Mac, usually known for his patience, was on his last nerve. Training under Doc killed his tolerance for all things associated with chocolate. An exasperated sigh escaped from the young boxer's mouth. It reminded him of his fight with Sandman...

The referee's count was at five, and Mac was still laying face down on the mat. A sharp pain ran through his jaw. Mac's groaned painfully as he pulled himself up using the ring ropes. As he did so, his opponent, Sandman, guffawed at the smaller man's expense.

"Hey, Mac Baby! Tell your face to leave my fists alone!" he boasted. Somehow, using every ounce of strength in his being, Mac was back to a vertical base, but on what accord could be the question. His vision was obscured due to the massive swelling over his left eye. His ribs felt like they were being held together only by a string. Sandman knew he was easy pickings at this point. The very second Mac was back on his feet, the large man reared back, preparing to finish off his opponent. "Night, night!" he growled.

Fortunately, like an angel's calling, the ring bells echoed throughout the arena. Sandman stopped in mid-swing, just a millimeter away from Mac's bruised face. The tall man chuckled and walked back to his corner with little to no injury. Unfortunately, the same thing could not be said about Little Mac. He glanced at his corner, but instead of walking, the young man collapsed and crawled. Slowly but surely, Mac made it to his corner and forced himself onto the small wooden seat that awaited him. Doc, normally there to help the small boxer, was looking at the audience with a blank stare in his eyes. After a couple of seconds, Doc finally noticed Mac slumped against the corner.

As if an idea came to his mind, Doc proceeded to pat the boxer on the back. "Hang on, Mac, baby!"

If there was one thing Mac could count on, it was Doc's advice. Whenever the going went tough, his trainer always came up with a strategic plan, and right now, Mac needed help in the biggest way. Sandman's strength was overwhelming, and he was not fooling around either. Mac turned around and waited patiently for his friend to speak.

"I have to tell you an important secret," Doc stated. Mac edged a bit closer, leaning against the ring ropes as he did so. "I love chocolate."

What? He loves chocolate? That's no secret. Everyone knew he loved chocolate! Plus, what does chocolate have to do with the match?! Nothing! How was that going to help him defeat Sandman?

Unfortunately, before Mac could try and retort, Doc pushed him back into the ring. "Don't worry, Mac, baby! You're doing fine!"

Doing fine?! Has he even been watching the fight? Oh, Mac was going to share a few choice words with his trainer when the match was over. Before the boxer could continue to dread though, the bell rung and Sandman's fist crashed into Mac's jaw. The blow sent the underdog careening into the canvas. His body twitched involuntarily as his thoughts went blank.

"I told your face to leave my fists alone!" Sandman barked.

Well, maybe he'll talk to him when he gets out of the hospital...

An exasperated sigh escaped from the young man's mouth. One of these days, he was going to find a way to break Doc from the insufferable habit. Unfortunately, that would have to wait another day. The raven haired man found what he was looking for in the form of a small, brown bottle.

Oddly, just before the boxer could attain the item, somebody else rushed by and snatched the bottle right from underneath his nose. Normally, Mac was one to display a vast amount of patience, but today was very different. Mac had been dragged out of the gym just to come to the grocery store. If that wasn't enough, the supposedly simple process was taking much too long. With his last nerve shot and patience dwindled completely, he rushed behind the chocolate thief and snatched the bottle right out of his hand. Unfortunately, in his haste, Mac failed to realize the overwhelming size of his culprit. Sure, at best, Mac was slightly shorter than the average human, but the person standing before him exceeded that greatly.

With more he stared at the man, the more Mac began to recognize him. His large bulbous eyes and bald cranium were too familiar of a sight. As a matter of fact, Mac had a boxing match against this native of Turkey, and his name was Bald Bull. Based off his experience, it was obvious that the Turkish man had anger issues. Unfortunately, the reality of the situation finally dawned on the young man when a vein emerged from Bald Bull's forehead. At first, Mac turned around to give the angry man another fresh bottle of chocolate, but as fate would have it, there were none remaining. Under normal circumstances, Little Mac would have surrendered his bottle in an act of decency, but today of all days was far from the usual standing.

Doc's drawn out decision making combined with Mac's growing disgust for chocolate made this day unbearable. If he were to give the bottle away, Doc would decide to go to every other grocery store in town until he was successful in fulfilling his inner chocolate-driven urge. At the moment, Mac just was not willing to go through that. Instinctively, the young man jetted across the corner and sprinted full speed down the next aisle way.

The young man couldn't help but chuckle as he did so. Even though the store was large, it'd be almost impossible for the behemoth to find him, let alone keep up. Before he could continue, a shopping cart flew right over Little Mac, just missing his head by a couple of inches. The young man stopped in his tracks and turned around, only to see Bald Bull carrying another shopping cart over his head.

Just when the man tossed the cart in his direction, Mac dove out of the way and into the bread aisle. He hopped back to his feet and continued to run for his life, and along the way, he ran past a skinny red-head along the way. Even though he didn't stop, the male recognized him easily.

"Au revoir, petit Mac!" he exclaimed. Mac turned his head around at the sound of the man's voice. It was Glass Joe, perhaps the most pitiful boxer in history. Even though his status was highly disappointing in the boxing world, Little Mac could not help but respect the man. Despite his constant failures, the Frenchman always sucked it up and tried his hardest. Such effort was to be commended.

Unfortunately, Glass Joe failed to notice the stampeding giant behind him. Before Mac could say anything, Bald Bull trucked through the poor Frenchman, sending him flying into a nearby wall. As much as the young man wanted to help Joe, Mac knew he would be all right. Glass Joe had taken beatings far worse than the one he was just given. Sweat ran down the side of the young man's face as he continued to pick up his pace. Despite his great speed and cardiovascular training, Bald Bull's anger was proving to be a bit stronger. No matter how hard he ran, Bull continued to close the distance. Unfortunately, if the situation wasn't already bleak, Mac slipped on a terribly placed banana and flew into a crate of assorted fruits.

Though he wasn't in any physical pain, it felt if his pride had been bashed by a sledgehammer. How on earth could he fall for one of the oldest tricks in the book? Mac's eyes wandered from the apples he was sitting on to the oranges stacked in a small box in front of him. It was obvious that he was in the fruit aisle. Unfortunately, his break was short-lived when Bald Bull emerged from the corner.

Mac tried to get up to make his getaway, but his body was wedged too tightly in the wooden box. If that wasn't bad enough, Bald Bull saw the position he was in and grinned menacingly. The Turkish man lifted a crate of plumes above his head and walked over to the trapped boxer with evil intentions. Mac wiggled and wormed but was unable to free himself. Luckily, he caught sight of the banana that put him in his current dilemma, and it was resting peacefully on his lap.

The young man took the fruit in hand and threw it at his attacker's feet. Much like Mac had did earlier, Bull slipped on the banana, but instead of falling in a crate of fruits, he back-flipped and fell on the back of his cranium. To make matters worse, the fruit-filled crate he was carrying came crashing down onto his face, instantly knocking the man out in the process. Mac, still stuck in the box, let out a sigh of relief. Without a doubt, that was too close of a call. Luckily, he was able to keep his cool. Mac then pushed a few oranges to the side, revealing a bottle of chocolate hidden underneath. Also, he could give his item to Doc, and he could finally go home and forget about his long unforgiving trial.

...so he thought. As if fate were toying with him, a suave man with sleek brown hair walked by and nonchalantly took the chocolate bottle away from Little Mac. The young man instantly remembered the face of his tormentor. It was the Ladies' Man from Spain, Don Flamenco. Yet, the Spaniard had not even noticed the damage around him.

He simply muttered, "Gracias," and went on his way. Poor Mac could only watched helplessly from his unwanted seat with his jaw dropped. To think, he did all of the work, but neither he or Bald Bull would walk away with the goods. Mac slapped his forehead and groaned desolately. How could this get any worse?

– Back in the Cake Aisle –

Doc, after what seemed like an eternity, finally placed the delectable cake in his cart. Even though, he kept looking back, eagerly awaiting the arrival of his protégé.

"I hope Mac gets back here soon. I have to tell him that I already have chocolate syrup at home," he recollected.

If only he knew...

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Well, that's the end of that. I had fun writing this, but I hope you all liked it even more. Later.