Chip Nickel Interviewed by Dre Battle

Fighter profile of Chip Nickel by Chris Karter

Dre Battle (6-1-0) sits down and interviews opponent Chip Nickel (9-4-0) ahead of their number one contender fight at HFC 51. Dre and Chip both take a seat and Dre takes the mic and gets down to business.
"Well hello there Chip. Are you prepared for this ass kicking?"
Before Chip could respond Dre abruptly cuts him off.
"Rhetorical question. The answer is no Chip, you are not prepared for this ass kicking."
"You wanna know why?" Dre continues. "Because I'm better than you and everybody and yo momma knows it. I'm faster, I'm stronger, I'm better lookin', my cup is twice the size. I can't believe J.W. and Igor are did' you this dirty by setting this fight up. I'd beat the brakes off every bum who's beaten you, especially that Brazilian paper champ who's been keepin' my belt warm."
A smug smirk stretches across Chip's features as he sips his cappuccino and listens to Dre rant.
"You see Chip, I'm gonna smack that smart ass smile off your face. I'm gonna smack your bitch ass so hard Chip, that they're gonna do a whole article on the front page, the back page, on every damn page in the newspaper about it."
Dre holds up both hands as he ushers the future headline. "Incoming scoop on Chip Nickel's career - to be continued - he's just been knocked the fuck out."
Dre claps dramatically as he laughs at his own joke. Chip, unwavered, folds his leg over his knee and waits for Dre to settles down to continue the interview.
"Chip, next question. Are you ready for the Pimp Hand of Doom™?"
Dre waits patiently for an answer. Chip hesitates to reply but when he finally attempts to speak Dre once against interjects.
"The answer is no Chip, hell no, you are not ready for the Pimp Hand of Doom™. Do you wanna know why?"
Chip raises his brow in silent inquiry.
"Because nobody's ready for the Pimp Hand of Doom™! Especially not your pencil pushin' desk jockey havin' ass. You've been knocked out twice by tuna cans. I'm gonna hit you so hard that your momma's gonna file charges. I'm gonna hit you so hard that your gonna shit leather for a week. I'm gonna hit you so hard, that they're gonna forget about Arundel and give me the god damn fighter of the year award."
Dre points to Chip's hairless chin "Rub some old spice on your prepubescent face and grow a damn beard! It's no shave November and you don't even have peach fuzz. You're 23 but you look like a boy trapped in a Peter Parker's body. I'm not gonna be allowed within 1000 feet of school zones after I'm done beating your ass in public." Dre smacks the coffee out of Chip's hand and marches off. Chip snorts as he casually wipes off his trousers, waits for an intern to bring him his empty mug, and refill his cup with fresh brew.

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