The week, though long, was not interrupted from the tournament. There wasn't much excitement from the others. Jero never stopped training, honing his newfound powers.
"Meepers, what do you think?" Jero asked Meepers, knowing he'd understand the complicated maneuver that Jero was doing.
"Meep." (Boring) Yawned Meepers.
"Hmm... I thought so too, guess I'll have to..." He trailed off.
"Yo ****! Suck my ****! I'm going to ****ing kill you!" Yelled out a drunk student, pointing at Jero.
"Ehm, could you not?" Sighed Jero, "I'll kill you instead mate."
"Gimme your number ****! I'll battle you, in rap!" Screamed the drunk kid.
"Hmm, sounds interesting. But let's do it here." Challenged Jero, "You ain't got the balls."
"No, you." The kid said as he slammed another beer. After wiping the beer foam from his mouth, he started. The rap was ok but punctured by slurry words from his drunk mouth; It was boorish.
"You ain't got the words to kill me. You are weak, just like your *****! Ladies don't like you, they like me, cause I spit super fire... Boi. You see this number?" Jero said as he handed Drunky a paper with a number on it.
"That's my sister's phone. Call it."
"Hah! Side chick here I come!" Slurred Drunky.
"You know, I don't have a sister..." Said Jero casually.
"Wait... what?" Asked Drunky, confused.
"You see, that's the wrong number." Jero slid in robotically.
Chaos ensued, causing tables to smash, and many screams of "Oh you got recked," came from the bar.
"Damn, that's crowd mentality for you." Joked Jero to Meepers.
"Meep Meep!" (Yep. Totally.) Replied Meepers sarcastically.