Can You Handle a Few Punches and Kicks? Chapter 1: The Fight Pit's Brooklyn Bruiser, a gossip girl fanfic

Taking a break from my other fic. Sry!

This AU might be totally OOC because this has nothing to do with the show, whatsoever. I've just taken Dair and placed them here! Really! It will play out sorta like parts of The OC or crossover between the JLO movie…. and the terrible Channing Tatum movie….. (can't say titles; it'll give away too much!)

Song lyrics: "Momma Said Knock You Out" – LL Cool J and "Run This Town" – Jay-Z, Rihanna, and Kanye West

R&R always please! Tell me if this is worth continuing!

At The Exodus, the hottest nightclub in New York, the party doesn't happen on the dancefloor; the party's held in the basement.

It's another normal night.

Another fight.

Same old shit.

This ain't WWE or any commercially known MMA company. And if anyone thought UFC was the real shit, they wouldn't know a damn thing.

And they certainly wouldn't know The Fight Pit.

The Fight Pit is the realest shit. BRUTAL AND ANIMALISTIC. The epitome of free brawling that throws the rules out the window. You show up with the clothes on your back and leave battered, broken, as if straight out of hell; yet you reemerge stronger and wanting more. That is… if you have the ability to leave at the end of the night.

If you're not a fighter though, you simply place your bets and pray.

The whispers about The Pit's prized fighter get around the city of New York, but he vows to never sell out to bureaucracies such as the UFC. He's underground and wants to remain that way.

Tonight, The Pit's prized fighter is living up to his moniker as Dan "Brooklyn Bruiser" Humphrey.

The ever-growing crowd's on their feet; sitting down during this kind of action is ridiculous. Those nearest to the action bang their hands against the fence. They're raucous; they're on the edge of mob-like mentally.

Dan Humphrey, enclosed in a space of 30 feet, surrounded by a square structure with walls of metal chain-link fence coated with black vinyl. It's second nature to him. It's home.

Bruised eye. Blood seeping through the cut on his forehead. Sore muscles. Dried blood around his nose. Fresh blood on his white khaki shorts. He's standing in a southpaw stance and is barely panting; this scares the other guy in the structure with him, shitless.

But none of that stops Dan from throwing superman punches to the head or quick kicks to the mid-section.

If Dan appeared a mess… you can only imagine what this newbie has become in the hands of the Brooklyn Bruiser.

After effortlessly escaping a sloppy and amateurish rear-naked chokehold, Dan lifts his leg to a high kick that seamlessly connects to the left temple, out of nowhere.

Dan's head kick was his signature move. As hard as you might to avoid the damage, there was no use. His kick is of the terrifying, wet-the-bed kind of nightmare. Not only could it scramble your brain even if you managed to block it somewhat, he could also flick it out there at any time, no telegraphing or set-up required.

C'mon man

[News Report]

And with the local DBT news, LL Cool J with a triumphant comeback
but tonite...

Don't call it a comeback
I been here for years
Rockin my peers and puttin suckas in fear
Makin the tears rain down like a MON-soon
Listen to the bass go BOOM
Explosion, overpowerin
Over the competition, I'm towerin
Wreckin shop, when I drop these lyrics that'll make you call the cops
Don't you dare stare, you betta move
Don't ever compare
Me to the rest that'll all get sliced and diced
Competition's payin the price

I'm gonna knock you out (HUUUH!)
Mama said knock you out (HUUUH!)

Don't u call this a regular jam
I'm gonna rock this land
I'm gonna take this itty bitty world by storm
And I'm just gettin warm
Just like Muhummad Ali they called him Cassius
Watch me bash this beat like a skull
Cuz u know I had beef wit
Why do u riff with me, the maniac psycho
And when I pull out my jammy get ready cuz it might go
BLAAAAW, how ya like me now?
The river will not allow
U to get with, Mr. Smith, dont riff
Listen to my gear shift
I'm blastin, outlastin
Kinda like Shaft, so u could say I'm shaftin
Old English filled my mind
And I came up with a funky rhyme

Breakdown!

Shadow boxin when I heard you on the radio (HUUUH!)
I just don't know
What made you forget that I was raw?
But now I got a new tour
I'm goin insane, startin the hurricane, releasin pain
Lettin you know that you can't gain, I maintain
Unless ya say my name
Rippin, killin
Diggin and drillin a hole
Pass the Ol' Gold

Shotgun blasts are heard
When I rip and kill, at WILL
The man of the hour, tower of power, I'll devour
I'm gonna tie you up and let you understand
that I'm not your average man
when I got a jammy in my hand
DAAAAAM! Oooooohh!
Listen to the way I slaaaaay, your crew
Damage (UHH) damage (UHH) damage (UHH) damage
Destruction, terror, and mayhem
Pass me a sissy so suckas I'll slay him
Farmers (What!) Farmers (What!)
I'm ready (we're ready!)
I think I'm gonna bomb a town (get down!)
Don't u neva, eva, pull my lever
Cuz I explode
And my nine is easy to load
I gotta thank God
Cuz he gave me the strength to rock
HARD! knock you out, mama said knock you out

The Brooklyn Bruiser has done it again! That's all she wrote, folks! Someone just got knocked out and it wasn't Dan Humphrey.

A hefty check, an icepack and some stiches, and bottles of beer await Dan by the end of the night once again. And if he's up for it, a busty blonde or perky brunette as a bonus.

He knows the game. He knows it too well. The clichéd "hustler's ambition."

Get the shit beat out of him into a state of numbness. Get stitched up and be rewarded with alcohol that will numb him further. Blackout. Get up in the morning to lick the wounds. At night, do it all over again.

In between that, Dan worked in the day helping the club in any way. But whenever he had a free minute, Dan would be writing; he had always dreamt of writing professionally, mostly novels, but anything would suffice. His latest project that was in the works for a while is an autobiography of his life as an MMA fighter. Sorta like Eminem or 50 Cent.

Dan lived his life by the motto his brother Scott (and co-owner of The Exodus) coined as "getting paid and getting laid."

This was his life.

The first time Dan fought, he was hesitant… and it showed.

Scott, having just kickstarted The Exodus, with his college roommate (and his money), needed an idea to make the club standout. Scott thought of this brilliant but illegal idea of betting on fights. He just needed a couple of fighters to open with a bang.

Knowing his little brother had a knack with throwing a punch or two during his previous afterschool activities, Dan was perfect. He was a fighter and he was family. Dan however, was never fond of using excessive force unless when necessary, but Scott nagged him long enough that he gave in.

He was just as sloppy as any amateur but the difference though, was that Dan was able to adapt, and adapt quickly, before becoming a bloody pulp. When he won the brutal fight, with a smirk and blood dripping down the whole right side of his face, Dan said the adrenaline rush was worth it. The Brooklyn Bruiser slowly garnered attention but he knew the novelty would wear off and swore to Scott he'd stop after a couple of fights.

That was 4 fucking years ago.

Would he ever break the cycle?

Doubt it.

Well… maybe, just maybe…something or someone will set him straight…

Feel it comin' in the air
Hear the screams from everywhere
I'm addicted to the thrill
It's a dangerous love affair
Can't be scared when it goes down
Got a problem, tell me now
Only thing that's on my mind
Is who's gonna run this town tonight...
Is who's gonna run this town tonight...
We gonna run this town

We are
Yeah I said it
We are
This is Roc Nation
Pledge your allegiance
Get y'all black tees on
All black everything
Black cards, black cars
All black everything
And our girls are blackbirds
Ridin' with they dillingers
I'd get more in depth
If you boys really real enough
This is la familia
I'll explain later
But for now let me get back to this paper
I'm a couple bands down and I'm tryin' to get back
I gave Doug a grip, I lost a flip for five stacks
Yeah I'm talkin' five comma
six zeros
dot zero
Here it go...
Back to runnin' circles 'round niggas
Now we squared up
Hold up

Life's a game but it's not fair
I break the rules so I don't care
So I keep doin' my own thing
Walkin' tall against the rain
Victory's within the mile
Almost there, don't give up now
Only thing that's on my mind
Is who's gonna run this town tonight
Hey-hey-hey-hey-hey-hey
Hey-hey-hey-hey-hey
Hey-hey-hey-hey-hey-hey
(Is who's gonna run this town tonight)
Hey-hey-hey-hey

We are
Yeah I said it
We are
You can call me Cesar
In a dark Czar
Please follow the leader
So Eric B. we are
Microphone fiend
It's the return of the god
Peace god...
(Auh! Auh!)
And ain't nobody fresher
I'm in Mason
(Ah!)
Martin Margiela
On the tape we're screamin'
Fuck the other side, they jealous
We got a banquette full the broads
They got a table full of fellas... (?)
And they ain't spending no cake
They should throw they hand in
'Cause they ain't got no spades...
My whole team got dough
So my banquette is lookin' like Millionaire's Row

It's crazy how you can go from being Joe Blow
To everybody on your dick, no homo
I bought my whole family whips, no Volvos
Next time I'm in church, please no photos
Police escorts
Everybody passports
This the life that everybody ask for
This a fast life
We are on a crash course
What you think I rap for
To push a fucking Rav 4?
But I know that if I stay stun-ting
All these girls only gonna want one thing
I could spend my whole life good will hunting
Only good gon' come is as good when I'm cumming
She got a ass that'll swallow up a g-string
And up top, unh...
Two bee stings
And I'm beasting
Off the riesling
And my nigga just made it out the precinct
We give a damn about the drama that you do bring
I'm just tryin' to change the color on your mood ring
Reebok
Baby
You need to drop some new things
Have you ever had shoes without shoe strings?
What's that 'Ye?
Baby, these heels
Is that a may?
What?!
Baby, these wheels
You trippin' when you ain't sippin'
Have a refill
You feelin' like you runnin', huh?
Now you know how we feel

We gonna run this town tonight!

Wassup!

Celebrating in the middle of the cage with Scott, who was yelling and cheering to the rowdy crowd of men, Dan, amidst the chaos, saw a petite figure with brunette hair, fleeing.

She was leaving unnoticed. Or at least, she was trying to. The company she was around made her stick out as this was certainly not part of the club a beautiful young woman should be hanging at. Eventually, she got her way past the crowd and back into the bass thumping club – her hair and vivacious curves swaying with each step.

Dan definitely noticed her and knew exactly who she was. A smile and a slight blush crept his face learning that he convinced her to watch him fight. But then he frowned. He had no idea what her thoughts about "this" were. Did she leave because she didn't want to admit giving in? Or, did she leave because she was put off by his brutality?

This brunette is certainly a mystery.

Dan always loved reading mysteries but loved solving them even more. He was determined in solving this mystery.

Tomorrow.

Tonight.

Tonight, he would celebrate surviving.

Surviving another fight.

Surviving another night.

The night which was no longer normal.

Good start?