Zone D -- The Foam

[MADBULL34]

Face to Face (D13 Item Drop) -- Madbull vs Zedd

Post order will be:  Madbull - Zedd - Madbull - Zedd

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Word Limit: 800
Posts Per Player: 2
Time Limit: 20 hours
Random Elements: On

As Sergeant John Estes snorkeled just below the surface of the ocean waves, he heard sloshing footsteps in the distance. The law officer surfaced and peeked his head above the waterline and spied Lord Zedd standing regally as a wave crashed against his shoulder. Z-Staff in hand, he stood like a villainous king. He casted a haughty look of disdain at Mad Bull, wondering why the buffoon was bothering the hide.
 
“Ain’t no swimming around this freakshow,” Sleepy mused.
 
The burly cop stood up in the four-foot deep water, beads of salty ocean spray matting his hairy barrel chest as stared back down at Zedd.  The policeman’s fat mustache bristled and his thick eyebrows twitched as they sized each other up. The Sergeant’s sidearm was tucked away and holstered in his belt along with his nightstick. Within the peaceful summer afternoon, the two waited like gunslingers for the other to make the first move. They knew neither’s intentions, but their mutual demeanor and unwillingness to yield spoke to only one future: violence.
 
Mad Bull motioned quickly for his revolver, but Zedd was too fast. In the blink of an eye, the Z-Staff glowed and unleashed a terrifying bolt at the officer’s direction, but in the sudden flash of light, Mad Bull dived under the water again, swimming beneath the shallows.
 
“Cursed ox! Show yourself and fight!” Zedd cried as he unleashed blast after blast, the water sizzling and steaming with each shot.  
 
“Yet another loathsome cur, just like those wretched rangers!” Zedd ranted in boiling rage. His assault continued, churning the waters. Suddenly he turned, lost and wrapped in the mist of his own onslaught. With growing anxiety, he pivoted left… then right, searching for his prey.
 
With a sudden splash, MAD BULL rose from the shallow waters with a furious bellow. His nightstick was raised overhead, gripped by the tonfa-like handle at its side. He brought the club down thunderously across Zedd’s shoulder, letting loose a thickly wet wallop as it made contact against the red-fleshy deltoid.
 
The blow was sudden and came unseen; in his surprise the Z-Staff fell into the water with an almost noiseless plop! Zedd grunted and braced himself as Mad Bull swung the truncheon again, this time like a batter stepping up to a fastball pitch. Just as fast, however, Zedd unsheathed and parried with his Dragon Dagger. The sergeant reeled, allowing Zedd to combo the parry with a quick slash.
 
The dagger had left a thin red line across the cop’s naked chest and the brawny man had taken a step back, the nightstick held defensively across his torso.  The two stared each other down again, waiting for the next bout.  As they waited, another wave crashed against the two, blurring the red line into a smear of blood that pooled between them.  They paced, circling each other, neither willing to lose sight of the other within the steamy mist now billowing off the ocean waters.
 
Before long, they had turned round-and-around until they were more than 15 yards distant. They studied each other’s movements, waiting for just the right opportunity to strike, and as Zedd brandished the blood-dripping dagger, Mad Bull had a sudden realization.
 
“That freakshow dropped his staff…” the Sergeant thought to himself with sudden realization.
 
Mad Bull leered a toothy grin at Zedd, and the red-skinned hulk spewed an arrogant reply, “What’s so funny you miserable gorilla? Has the first thought in your insignificant life crossed that pea-sized brain of yours?”
 
The cop’s hand rushed to his side and in one fluid motion unholstered his .38 Smith & Wesson NY-1 Revolver. He leveled the barrel, pulled back the hammer and aimed high as Zedd’s chest.
 
In startled panic, the great lord realized his folly and even his enormous visor could not hide the moment of dread that contorted his face. He froze in place.
 
“Tough words, but I got a feelin’ something else is about to be crossin’ that brain a’ yours.” Mad Bull replied with grim satisfaction.
 
Zedd wracked his mind for an idea, a counter, a chance… anything to be free and finished with what should have otherwise been an easy fight for one so great and powerful as he. His eyes spotted his Z-Staff underwater a few feet away, sitting on the sandy bottom.  It was so close, yet so far as long as that cop had his firearm trained at his body.
 
Zedd spat and clutched his dagger with incensed frustration.
 
“Say hi to the fishes for me on your way down,” Mad Bull replied as he pulled the trigger, sending the first .38 special round hurtling out through the chamber and straight for Zedd
 
KAPOW!