Lumberjack contest (Semper/open)

This guy is clearly not the type of guy I'd usually associate with. I like me buddies nice and relaxed. There's one thing I like about him though. He's an ambitious winner type. Just like I was before I got sick. I used to be top of my class when it came to sports, team captain and very popular with girls. Good times. Things are different now though and have been for years. I've gotten used to being mediocre and have relaxed about it. His spark however motivates me to proof to him that I'm not just 'gimpy' but 'gimpy with some edge'.

From somewhere I hear a voice call out whether we're having troubles. Surprised I turn to see a guy who's munching on an apple and offer him a smile. "No, we're okay...as long as we win."
As a joke I add. "you can rescue me if we loose though."
With a nodd towards he I limp further towards the sawing area.

I follow him as quickly as my broken leg allows me and nod. "Okay, I'm in."
He reaches the sawing area and grabs the next best saw but is quickly reminded by the judges that he has to wait his turn and sign in with his number.
We show them the number's we've been assigned and wait until the contestants before us are finished. I can see how fast they are working and how strong their legs stand spread out to give them the necessary leverage. Gulping I know that I'll have a problem with that.

Once they're done our numbers get called and I pick up my end of the saw. My left leg has to do all the supporting while the other one is no help at all. On the contrary. Putting the tiniest bit of weight on it hurts like hell. So I grit my teeth and nod at my partner. "On your count."

Only seconds later the blade get's pulled towards him and I grab it tightly pulling it back as hard and fast as I can. The amount of pain that shoots through my leg during every pulls in unbelievable but my will and pride are stronger. Giving up or doing a poor job is not an option so I pull and push as hard as I can and try to ignore the searing pain in my bones. My face has long turned red and tears are shooting to my eyes as I let out a scream as we're half way through the thick log. I can practically feel all eyes on me now but I stand my ground. The log is starting to crack when I shift my weight a little too much onto my broken leg and it simply gives way. There's nothing I can do and I can only let go off the saw and hope that my partners last pull will cut the rest of the wood.

We're near the competition area when there's another voice. Oh joy. Another snarky idiot. I narrow my dark eyes and shoot a glance up at the tree, spotting the kid just laying on a branch. He looks like he's trying to play it cool - the mysterious know-it-all with a sassy attitude. I grunt as Gimpy replies. "We're going to win, I don't know what you're pulling with this 'if' stuff." I huff, shooting a threatening glare at Gimpy but it wasn't as much of an annoyed look as I had given this tree boy. But I ignore him, choosing instead to focus on the competition at hand.

The previous team finishes up and then Gimpy and I are at the ready, each taking an end of the saw. "On your count." I count down for us and then we're off, going back and forth, tearing at the wood and slowly working our way through the log.

Gimpy is struggling, though; his leg must be bothering him because he lets out a yell halfway through and I only push and pull harder, raking the saw teeth against the wood as harshly and efficiently as I can. But then Gimpy goes down, just when we're so close to being done.

Gimpy falls down.

I give a furiously hard jerk on the saw and hope and pray that it's enough.



((I'm leaving it up for you, Jack, to decide whether or not it's enough. xD ))

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As I fall down onto the frozen ground my eyes are fixed on my partner and the saw in his hands. It's evident that he tries his very best to cut the rest of the log with one magnificent pull on the saw. The log cracks and breaks, it's end drops. Unfortuantely the end is the only this that drops because the last few strings of fibre are holding the damn thing together.

Gasping in desperation and pain I clutch my broken leg and squeeze my eyes shut to blend out the pain and the competition. Only one thing vanishes, the other one hits me full force. It hurts almost as much as on the day when that monster smashed my knee to bits and all I can do is grit my teeth and wait for the worst to subside, which unfortunately takes way to long to not get completely embarassed. Here I am surrounded in tough lumberjacks and am curling up in a ball like a baby. I surely can't ever show my face again here.

Next thing a worry crosses my mind. My partner promised to kill me if I fail and judging by his attitude before he's a pretty angry, no nonsense guy. So I look up to see whether he'll be coming at me with that saw in his hand.

Not too far away the guy from the tree looks quite sympathetic. Hopefull he can fight.

OOC: TYG What's rping without the worst possible choices LOL

I wait. And wait. And wait. The damn thing seems to fall in slow motion and it becomes quickly evident that my last attempt at sawing the log was futile.

There's still a few fibers holding the two ends together and we're out of the competition. For a few moments I just stare in utter and complete disbelief at the log, baffled at how the stupid thing could possibly be held together by just those few twig-like things. Just a few twig-like things.

Instantly a scowl appears on my face. Somehow this damn thing was rigged - are they against me? Did they think I would win everything so they just had to make this log difficult to slice in half? I mutter a few colorful words and clench my fists, glaring icily at the referee. This man probably put iron in the log or something, the devil.

But Gimpy really did try, I'll give him that. I scowl again and stomp over to where he's lying on the ground and shove a hand out to help him up. Even though we didn't win I accept that he did give all he could give. But still, he probably could have done more to help.

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Angry's one sore loser, you can tell by the look he shoots the referee, the look he shoots the crowd now gathered around staring at him, as if we had somehow undermined and plotted his failure in advance.

Sore loser, that's one thing. But he doesn't just look like a sore loser, he looks like a absurdly pissed off sore loser. I half expect him to give Gimpy a good pounding and am about to intervene when he simply helps Gimpy to his feet and the two of them assess the situation.

"I'm sorry it didn't work, man." Gimpy tells Angry. Huh, that was definitely not what I was expecting was going to happen...

"Any other disciplines you'd like me to make a fool of myself at?" Gimpy questions Angry sardonically. Judging from the look on Angry's face, this isn't over quite yet.

Should provide some good entertainment.

Admittedly I'm glad my 'partner' decided to let me live and even with dignity, yet decides to mock me, which I don't appreciate. What I do appreciate is his black sense of humor. It actually makes me chuckle a little.
I hope he appreciate my straight question as well. "Who on earth spit in your coffee this morning and made you so damn grumpy? You sound like an 80 year old virgin."

I don't understand what the big deal is anyway. If he took these games a little more serious he would have found himself a decent partner well in advance. "What's the big deal? It's a competition but there's no money in it."

I shrug and cast a glance at the crowd that has gathered to watch the event. I guess somebody could get a kick out of their cheers and applause. Not me. I'm too indifferent about it. Maybe if I was healthy I'd try a little more serious or if there was a chick I wanted to impress.
"Who're you trying to impress?" I nudge him as if we were actually friends.