Her eyes twitched violently. Emilia had told Jet he would d this, and he did. That's what happens when you eat a lot of turkey and swallow it down with alcohol. "Hey get up idiot!" She kicks him hard in the chest throwing him ten feet.

He jumps up looking around for the enemy in a daze. His eyes settle on hers. "What's goin' on?"

"Your semi-final match is what's on." She mused.

He patted his clothes down. "In that case we should be going."

8888888888888888

The mid-afternoon sun washed over the lands and the crowd was as loud as ever. Two shadows showed on the ring followed by the two men who owned them. Jet stood in his place as he nearly choked on his own saliva when he sees his opponent. A man clad in black spandex, wings on his arms and a mask rounded from the middle of his head and going to a point two inches below his chin. The crimson red glaring in the light as Jet looks to two painted on black eyes. The mask was like a beak to a bird. Is that why this man called himself Masked Falcon.

"I can't believe this." Jet mutters. "Why's my opponent wearing a pansy costume? He looks like a fool!"

Masked Falcon snaps to attention. "So," He began muffled by the plastic mask he wore. "You make fun of my suit. How dare you? I will show no mercy now!"

"Whoa! Hold on!" The official enters making sure the two don't beat down on the other just yet. "All right! Let's have the first semi-final match between Jet and the Masked Falcon begin!"

"It's time someone taught the little boy a lesson!" Masked Falcon warned as he glides at a fast speed for a surprised Jet. Those wings can be used? He thought they were for show. As the Masked Falcon swoops by it looks as if Jet was hit, but Jet had actually rolled aside. Appearing besides the costumed fighter Jet punches the fool hard in the face.

"Shit!" Jet pulls back his hand in pain. "Those damn masks hurt." He swore as he backed off.

"I don't know how you are so fast, but I will never miss a second time." The masked man swears. Masked Falcon moves forward sending a melee of punches at his foe only to have them all dodged. With an opening Jet throws a powerful uppercut to Masked Falcon's face flinging the mask from the man's face. Jet stepped back warily. The crowd had some ill people when they had thrown up and then others of course had to as well. The man was so ugly the narrator can not even describe him or he will be up against many FCC complaints and possibly sued.

"That's just...horrible." Jet nearly barfed himself. Was there some reason to the man's ugliness? Fire? Accident? Too bad those were not the reasons. The man was just born that way. "No wonder you wore the mask."

The Masked Falcon's eyes twitched as did his formed fists out of pure wroth. "I won't let this stand! I didn't want to do this, but, Feather Storm!" Hundreds of feathers take the air and amongst the feathers Jet is hit by four shuriken while dodging five others by pure sound alone. When Jet got out he looked to find they were not shuriken, but rather sharp feathers.

"Hey! Isn't this against the rules?" Jet questioned.

The official stood there judging if they were or not. "No. They are part of his wardrobe. It would be like you throwing your boot at him."

Jet looks on enlightened. Standing calmly as if he was about to go into water cooler banter. "Really? You can use clothes? Has anyone done so before?"

The Masked Falcon watches in aggravation now that Jet no longer is paying him any mind. He jumps to the air and swoops down for Jet. "One last go!"

Jet looks to him and rolls aside as the man flies by him. Masked Falcon flies back swooping in again, but Jet literally disappears from the ring as the Masked Falcon hangs in the air looking for his foe. Too bad Jet was right above him sending a joined punch into the Falcon's back throwing the costumed fool to the ground in a rough drop. The Masked Falcon stands up slowly noting he had lost all his feathers in the fall somehow. "How..." He holds his head.

"Hey! We're still fighting here!" Jet calls as he tosses multiple sharpened feathers that he had stolen from the mask man. With no defense the man runs and forms the fetal position.

"Stop it! Stop it! I forfeit! Forfeit!" He bellows.

"Forfeit?" Jet grins.

"I give up!"

"If you say so." Jet shrugs tossing the feathers anyway.