“A Cold Month in Boston (The Adventures of Bunny Kinkaid)
-Themed Bloodbowl Match Report.

Chapter 1

Damn it was cold. It was one of those cold quiet nights, you know, the ones where you can actually hear the crackle of your cigarette when you pull a drag off it. I’d just finished a brisk jog through the empty streets and was slowly walking back to Vito’s Bar. I hate a fight later that night, against a real bum named Nutters O’Toole. I’d fought this prick before in 1926, and knew he was a genuine slime bag. This guy knew every dirty trick in the book, and he used em all in the ring.

Why was I fighting him then? Heck, I need money. The boxing game was slow now on the east coast, in the middle of they’re starting to call the Great Depression. Not to mention my best years were a decade ago. I blew all my money from my Heavyweight Title days on dames and cheap whisky, so now I fight has beens and never-will be’s for enough money to pay my rent.

I pushed open the battered brass plated door to Vinny’s and headed towards the back through a haze of the chain smokers and fumes of alcohol. I got the high sign from Vinny and headed through to the back room. Vinny had a hell of a nice set-up for prize fights, even had a real ring and room for about 200 people.

I saw that Nutters was already in the ring, all 165 pounds of him. He was oiled up like a greased pig and I could see the glint of broken glass on his gloves. Like I said, the guy was a real scum.

I hopped into the ring and shook off my robe as the audience started to file in. Nutters was staring at me all buggy eyed. I have to admit I was a bit concerned, you never want to fight a psychopath who’s willing to leave it all in the ring. But then again, I got about 60 pounds and 4” of reach on ol’ Nutters, so I figured the best way to handle this was to knock him out early.

Vinny, who played at being the ref, hopped in the ring and rang for the bell. I shot out of my corner like a cannon ball and hit Nutters with a flurry of jabs and a hard left hook that sent him crashing to the canvas. I hoped to hell he’d choke on the teeth I just knocked out. No such luck. The old veteren spat out an incisor, winked at me, waited for the 8 count and stood back up.

He came at me quick and connected with a solid right that put me back on my heels. A thumb to the eye followed up as I tried to protect myself while leaning hard on the ropes. Eyes watering, I tossed a wild overhand right that somehow caught Nutters on the side of the head. Bouncing off the ropes I went to work on his body, my hands blazing like a couple of jackhammers. I worked him back across the ring until I had him buried in a corner. He clinched me and tried to bite my ear but I shoved him back and stood him up with a solid uppercut. Two jabs and a right cross later, and Nutters was down again.

He needed that eight count this time, I didn’t think he was gonna get up at all. But as ol’ Vinny counted to 9, Nutters stumbled to his feet. I was on him like a bear on honey before his eyes could focus. Three quick shots to the gut and Nutters went down again gasping. The ring bell saved him as it sounded the end of round one.

I smiled to myself as I sat on my stool. Looking across the ring at Nutters I knew he wasn’t gonna make it through the next round. He was bleeding from a cut over his left eye and blowing air like the bellows in an iron works.

When the bell rang I ran across the ring to get at him. And met his glass coated right hand with my nose. He raked my face as I went crashing down to the mat. It felt like my face was being run over with a giant cheese grater. I hit the mat, and bled for a while. Vinny started his count, and when I heard him get to six I picked myself off the canvas. Looking down at the ring floor, seeing my own blood seeping into the plywood - I got real mad. I shook the blood from my eyes and went after Nutter. I had murder in my heart, and I think he saw it. He did his best to cover up, but I worked him back to the corner and drove my knee into his groin and as his hands came down, dropped him with another hook.

I have to give Nutters credit, he’s a tough son of a gun. He staggered back to his feet, but everyone in the building knew how this fight was gonna end. I looked at Vinny to see if he was going to call the fight. Vinny asked Nutters if he wanted to go on. Nutters answered by throwing a right cross at my face. I ducked under, and popped his chin so hard with an uppercut his feet actually left the ground.

Vinny checked Nutters for a pulse and called for the doctor. I took of my gloves and wandered over to the bar for a drink as people pounded my back or cursed me for costing them money.

Vinny, came over and handed me my take. “Nutters is gonna live, but he’ll wish he hadn’t come tomorrow morning.” Vinny said.

I nodded to him, killed my drink and headed back out into the cold Chicago night.
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