Arroe had tried training for a while, but it turned out that he lacked the substance to match his style.
Even so, he had kept up appearances.
Hyped things up, and even gotten all the pre-fight clearances…
He had put all his effort into trash talking on social media, even as his physique grew weedier.
In truth. After his sword was bent 90 degrees or so, he had been dealt a psychological blow.
*Private 'training footage' from Arroe's CCTV for esteemed readers' eyes only*
Arroe is currently in bed 'resting'. He appears to be clutching some kind of soft toy close to his chest and sucking his thumb in his sleep…
"N-No…!!!! M-Meatius! [Y-You're too… b-big!!!]" Arroe moaned.
"D-don't leave me with him all alone!!!"
His 'long'-time trainer, Pierce Zingspear, a master of the… Penetrative Arts in the Sneering Dominion, skewered straight to the heart of the matter…
"Look, the thrust of it is that right now, things aren't looking too good for Arroe - the trajectory of his training schedule is flying a little bit off target…"
He gives the whimpering Arroe on the video a long, piercing, and as usual, penetrating, glance.
"It could just be a kind of… Power Nap though, a secret technique kept under wraps so…"
"-Yeah. Hopefully he'll wake up soon..."
*Cutaway from Arroe's room*
___
As is often the case of proud individuals, once his ego was shattered, then nothing much really mattered.
He had regressed to childhood as a defensive mechanism, reassuring himself that things would be okay…
Even as judgment day… approached!!!
___
Meanwhile, Meatius had also been coached.
His man in the corner, Iam Evan-Brawniér - a multiple-time deadweight champ - also obliging shared a few insights from their training camp.
*exclusive behind the scenes footage from the Meatius Maximus training camp for the esteemed readers' viewing enjoyment*
"We've done the work. Well. Kind of. To be fair. The… 'equipment' matters yeah. So Meatius has matched himself with the perfect… gear, and as a result, he has no fear!!!"
*Cut to Meatius in the boxing ring of a gym, lined up against a punching bag, whose survival chances are looking slim*
Meatius has a swig of his juice, before flexing his muscles, and then letting loose.
The punching bag, which has on it a poorly drawn caricature of a sneering face, is *hit* by a fist of immense pace.
*Wham!!!!* *Bam!!!!* *Slam!!!!* and when the dust has cleared, all that is left is a tattered smear… 🫢✨
___
Sally's EVP press release was the first time for a lot of things. The EVP Technology getting announced for one. But apparently this was only the beginning of the fun…
Arroe and Meatius had once again taken the opportunity, to put the other and their preparations under scrutiny…
Sh**!!!
Arroe could tell from how Meatius looked, that he was… most probably cooked.
But! At this critical hour,
now was not the time to cower!!!
Arroe at last had thought it through.
And he realised what he had to do.
___