In the isle of Trinidad our hero sees himself fading into oblivion, even though he was never famous to begin with. He wants to make something of himself and strives with all his might to accomplish something, fame, money, women, victory by his own hands and damn the consequences. Soon Carnival will be upon the land, some games have already begun, and, taking on the moniker of 'Horse whipper' our hero fights. One part of his great scheme.

As I exit the bar and walk unto the street corner, I could see the crowd is larger than expected even though the game just started a couple days ago. I looked up above and saw the street light's holy aura shine down on me, I then sniffed the air, it smelt like.... nothing really. Hmm, that's  strange. A scent can lead you down a path, if you know how to follow it, but tonight is strange cause all i get is nothing. I wondered, no path or just no nothing scent at all, we will see. I threw my stick into the gayelle and I heard the drums begin. I gazed around and after some miuntes saw my opponent walk towards the gayelle to begin his pray and dance, waving his stick around. I was never one for that. I am only here to shed blood and make cash but business is business. I looked around again and i saw no pretty women in the crowd, a shame I thought, I did see a fair looking middle aged lady who looked like she came alone. I sighed and focused on the task at hand. What a night this is going to be. I too entered the gayelle, picked up my stick and began my dance. I wasn't anything fancy, just a two step here and there, for the ceremony of course. I then saw the referee walk up to me with a weird look on his face. "When you going to say your prays we dont have much time you know." I smiled at him. "No prays tonight ref. Just blood." I hoped i gave off an eire and badass vibe but the man just gave an ugly face, like a father dissapointed and angry at his child and he stalked off to the center of the ring and summoned us towards him. I walked forward with my stick. I was long and hard yet able to bend just at the right points, it has never failed me before and I'm confident it would not fail me now. I had already prepared it by rubbing oil on it. Not much just a bit at the tips. It was from a poui tree and was about one and a half inches in diameter and five feet long. The ref told us were not to hit, to defend ourselves, to touch sticks which we did and i said "no homo" and then to go back to our corners. I nodded at my opponent, a lankey oldish man, probably in his fifties, indian and in a dirty old shirt and dirty old jeans, he had on a slippers and he smelt of smoke, probably from his prays, he just stared at me, similar to how the ref did which made me a bit pissed. They were all like that old and lankey. Hardly any young fighters these days which might sound like I was taking advantage of them but whatever, wasn't my problem, easy food for me and it was a dying sport. The ref gave the go ahead and I stalked forward, slowly and with legs apart, knees limbered and my stick held high. I was a good foot and a half above my opponent and I would put that to my advantage, espeially now that he began to crouch lower. That fucker, i already saw through his kalinda, if this was wrestling then maybe he stood a chance. As i neared I brought my stick down in wide, fast swings with my body turned away. Always turnung as i struck out, not to actually strick him, just to see his reaction and what he can do. Of course he simply stepped away but that was the point. I prepared myself and as I bring my last swing down i stop as he steps away and I lunge and poke at him but a turned to the right on the last minnute on his part turned my attack into a simple nudge on his shoulder. I saw the lash coming from a mile away and I stepped into him trying to block the strike and I did to some degree, however, I felt a sting and a burn on my left knuckles. Keeping up the momentum he steps back but I step foward in tandem and as I do this I pull back the lower end of my stick and release it. My opponent scrunges his face into a pained look as he bends over in pain. I didn't stop as I bring down a heavy blow from above, ending the fight in good time. As the old man lay on the ground I looked around again. No beauties in sight but i spot the middle aged woman who seemed to be alone, in a tight jeans and even tighter blouse. She seemed to have large breasts but that could just be her bra, a slim waist, big ass and tucked in tummy. I smiled at her and gave a bow. She smiled back. Even though I don't take pleasure from sticking older people, the fight would continue tonight, maybe at my place.  I was declared the winner and given an envelope by the ref. I opened it and saw the cash as well at the letter of advancement. I looked at the lady again, sighed, might as well get this over with, I thought as I walked towards her. I'll definately practice my kalinda on that ass tonight, I declared to myself.

Stolen novel; please report.