Da-da Dam dam dam, another one rides the bus!

Gwharr was in a foul mood as he walked across the street in the middle of new york city. Despite trying to fit in, he stood out like a sore thumb. He was simply too large for starters, and even when he stood fully stretched out, his arms were still long enough to reach the ground. He wore large overcoat, a pair of jeans and a rather dirty-looking hat. He was heading home after once again gotten attacked by one of the many superpowered freaks in this "city of lights" It was starting to get annoying.

Due to being a caveman, Gwharr had not learned about the rules of traffic in school. Nor had he bothered to learn about them later in life, since he was convinced that the car that was tough enough to hurt him had yet to be built. The cars should watch out for him, rather than the other way around! This arrogant conviction of his own superiority was the main reason that Gwharr decided to go out into the middle of the street when the sidewalk got too crowded for his tastes, but as soon as he had left the sidewalk, he was unexpectedly knocked over by a bus that barely had time to break in time before hitting the massive caveman.

Gwharr slowly got back up onto his feet, snarling as he did. His primitive, hairy face twisted into a griamce of rage. The facial expression did accurately portray his feelings. He really was furious by now. He had been having a rotten day, and now this oversized metal contraption had the nerve to bump him down. Him! The King of the caves beneath New York! He slowly brushed the road-dust and gravel that was currently clinging to the stitched-together, patched, oversized trench-coat that was draped over his massive, Ape-like 980 pound body. He slowly turned around, his small, pig-like eyes meeting those of the driver of the furiously honking veichle that had made the mistake of knocking the Primordial-american over. Despite the glass between them, the rather big fellow behind the wheel managed to make his coarse voice heard as he yelled to the 'big fuck'n hobo' to get out of the way so that he may continue his journey. However, Captain Caveman had no intention of indulging the loudmouthed man. Instead he turned around and beat his chest in anger, Snarling noislily, giving the man a formal challenge,as well as the chance to back down before he would beat him into submission. However, Gwharr hoped that the man would keep yelling. He had been having a crappy day and he intended to take it out on the bus-driver and his veichile

The busdriver once again hit the horn of his veichle, causing a loud "bweeeeeeep" to blare, causing quite a few heads to turn in the street. This was all the excuse Gwharr needed. His frown quickly turned upsided down as he effortlessly thrust his arms throug the front of the bus, ripping the entire front apart, cauing the windshield to shatter and the steering-wheels and dashboard to spill out onto the street. The engine of the large bus quickly silenced. There was now nothing between Gwharr and the caveman, and it did not take the driver long toget out of his seat, trying to run further into the bus, hoping to get away from the caveman. However, he did not have time to run very far before a hairy hand the size of a trash-can lid grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, lifting him up, pulling him closer, bringing him face to face with the annoyed 7'5 caveman.

The man was afraid now, and Gwharr liked it. He could almost smell his fear. It was easy to act all tough when you where driving a large veichle, but a veichle was not true strength, it was but a crutch. Once it was discarded, the man inside of it was no stronger than anyone else. The drivers eyes rolled inside his head, as Gwharrs rancid breath washed over him. He blubbered nervously, alternating begging for mercy and calling for help, but none of it helped. . . Gwhar intended to hurt him. Rough him up a little, nothing serious, but enough to make him limp for a while, and think twice before bumping into people on the street.

Vincent walked sluggishly out of his apartment, placing a cigarette in his lips. He flicked open his matte black zippo, the stainless steel inside mirroring is image onto his face from the glare of the street lamps. The flame licked the end of the cigarette, the embers burning down as he took a long drag. He climbed onto his motorcycle, placing the key in the ignition and smiling as the engine roared to life.

Vincent pulled back on the throttle and let go of the clutch slowly as he pulled into traffic. He road down the street, the rumble of the '70s cafe racer echoing, causing people to do a double take. His hands shined under the lights, the metal reflecting the lamps each time he passed under them. He rounded the corner, quickly applying the brakes as a bus came to a rapid stop.

He got off his bike and walked around the side, ducking down as he heard the sound of twisting metal. People scattered from the scene. Vincent peaked around the side of the bus, seeing an large man being held into the sky by someone of massive proportions. He took off his coat, and strolled in front of the bus.

"How about you put the guy down, huh?" He said, lighting another cigarette, giving off an aura of arrogance. "I think he learned his lesson."

Gwharr grinned broadly, revealing a set of pearly white teeth wich a few barely managed to be avoided to be classified as "tusks", in order to intimidate the captive man. Gwharr rather enjoyed watching as the bus-driver started to squirm fruitlessly hoping to get out of his grip, looking around, hoping to spot his saviour in the crowd. However, there was no salvation to be found. Most people where abandoning their cars, moving away from the suprhumanlyy strong, violent and rather horribly dressed caveman. Apprantly nobody was brave enough to stand up for the little man.

The caveman roared viciously at the crowd, causing a few of the less courageous onlookers to shriek and run away as fast as their legs could carry them. This amused Gwharr Immensely. He could probably not be considered a sadist, since he took no pleasure in their pain or suffering, but he liked the way they feared him. They might act big and fancy when he came to them, hat in hand to ask them a favour or beg for scraps from their table, but he liked to know that when push came to shove, he could still scare them, dominate them by using sheer physical power. These thinlings where all weak and content, growing fat in their strange society, where strength usually meant nothing. But when Gwharr decided to use strength to avenge an insult, they were quick to rever to the basic "fight or flight" reflex. Fortunately, most chose flight rather than fight.

Gwharr cackled cruelly as he shook the man slightly, causing him to dangle in his grip like a ragdoll. This was to soften him up before the punishment really took place "To teach you'se lesson, boy! To teach you no be rude!" The caveman growled, his inhumanly deep and coarse voice being deceptively sweet and calm, while at the same time managing to be bloodthirsty. The man was babbling, obviously panicked. Gwharr decided that he had probably had enough, and was about to let him go, when he heard a voice behind him, demanding that he let the man go.

Gwharr turned around, his hairy face staring at the man in disbelief. How DARED he just walk up to him with such a swagger? Talk to him as if he was merely some misbehaving brat! Oh, these thinlings! What fools they where!

"To not interfere, thinling. Not you'se fight." The caveman snarled from between gritted teeth, his deep, booming voice dripping with anger. However, no manner how impudent and arrogant the man was, he had to admit (more than a little bit reluctantly) that he had courage to stand up to him like that. Alone no less. "To be a brave man to stand up to Captain Caveman. To let you go, if step down now. To not think less of you'se if back down." The caveman continued, his inhuman voice taking on a suprisingly fatherly tone

Unflinchingly, Vincent flashed a grin as the freakishly large man snarled angrily at him. Judging by the condition of the bus, he was no pushover, but then again, neither was Vincent. It gave him more confidence in the fact that while he was large, he looked to be made of all flesh and blood, as opposed to Vincent's powerful metal structure.

"There isn't any need to fight. Look at him? As soon as his feet touch the ground, hes going to be off running for his life." Vincent said taking another drag of his cigarette, blowing up towards the caveman like figure. He was confident he would be able to at least hold his own. If not in strength, then intelligence.

He grinned as the brute offered him a chance to 'step down'. "That really is a cute offer, but I'm going to go ahead and decline your offer. Now, put him down." He said, patting him lightly on the shoulder.

The caveman seemed rather indifferent towards the metal-armed strangers answer. He hadn't really expected the man to walk away anyway. The fellows that where tough enough to talk the talk to him where usually brave enough to walk the walk. And more often than not they figured they had the power to back up their talk too. He had to admit that some of them had been able tofight him at an equal footing, but most fell a few feet short of that goal. However, Gwharr figured he had no reason to fear the man. After all, even if those metal arms of his gave him some sort of ability, and if that ability was powerfull enough to hurt our Arrogant, Annoyed, Atavistic Apeman he would recover in naught but seconds.

Unlike most super-durable folks that had only their unnatural toughness to keep them safe, Gwharr could also count on his regeneration to keep people from trying to weaken him or making a so called 'lasting impression' on him. After all, the combination of these abilities had allowed him to survive millenia in a mostly hostile world. Even in these modern times when superpowered freaks where as common as beans.

The big, burly busdriver looked at the man with the metal arms, a pleading look in his tear-soaked eyes, begging the newcommer to save him from the big, ape-like monstrosity that had saved him. He was too scare to ask for help aloud, though, seemingly hoping that the caveman would forget about him if he kept quiet enough. After all, the cavemans attention was diverted now, and it was in his best interest that it remained diverted for as long as possible. . .

The Charismatic Caveman shrugged indifferently in response to the man denying his offer, sighing slightly. He figured that the smashed up bus would be enough to scare most people out of picking a fight with him, but it seemed that some people where confident enough in their own abilities to think they had the minerals to take him on. "To be sorry you'se feel that way." Gwharr said, his voice even slightly sympathetic to the man.

Gwharr quickly threw a jab at the man with his free hand, using only a fraction of his strength, but still had enough force to make the man bounce across the street if he connected. The man seemed tough enough to survive, and a punch like that was probably enough to disuade him from taking further actions against the caveman.

Vincent waited quietly for the brutes answer, noticing the driver looking down at him with hope. He watched Gwharr out of the corner of his eye, giving a light nod to the driver. Vincent grinned as the giant seemed to be analyzing the situation, though comically slow. He could almost hear the gears working and see the steam coming from his head.

"Don't hurt yourself big gu-" He stopped speaking as he watched a fist the size of a watermelon coming at him.

Vincent dug his foot into the concrete and held up his hand, stopping the blow. He felt the blow connect, but was shocked to realize that this 'man' might actually give him a run for his money in strength. He gave a light chuckle and stood up straight again.

"That's pretty good. You're about as strong as you look." He drew his fist back and smiled wide. "My turn!" He swung, aiming for center mass.

Gwharr felt a surge of triumph wash through him as his punch connected, but he could not help but ot feel a bit confused as the metal-armed human was only knocked back a few inches, rather than hurled across the street, into a brick-wall or something similarly dramatical. Heck, the punch had not even managing to knock him over! Obviously this man was being far stronger than Captain Caveman had given him credit for. Not only was the man stronger than our Primitive Primordial Protagonist had figured, but the way that the hit "felt" it was obvious that he was heavier too. Far heavier than a man his size and appearance aught to be. This was getting more mysterious by the minute. Finally he noticed that the man was not only strong enough to compete, but that he was far tougher than he aught to be aswell, as those shiny, iron arms of his didn't even get dented by his his punch. That punch would probably had put a dent in a reasonably tough car!

Gwharr briefly paused his assault, looking at the man wit ha dumbfounded expression, one eye-brow quizzically raised and his mouth gaping slightly, making him look somewhat similar to a very drunk fellow that had just lost a bet. However, he was not alone in being baffled by this rather curious happening, but the Bus-driver was equally stunned. After all, he had just seen the hairy, ape-like giant rip a bus apart as if it was made out nothing but brittle, moldy, wet cardboard without any noticable effort. And after all that display of raw power, this here fellow could just take a punch just like that? Incredible.

However Gwharrs temporary distraction gave the metal-armed man a golden oppurtunity to land a 'free hit' on him, so to speak. A chance that he was more than willing to make the most out of. Gwharr felt the hit connect to his gut, and by boggity, he could actually feel it! The man was a strong one indeed! Probably stronger than the Zombieman had been and definately stronger than The Red Hunter or Silver-pants guy.

The force of the blow was so strong it lifted Gwharr from his feet, and sent him flying straight through a truck transporting bicycles and crashed into a wall on the other side, collapsing into a small pile of wheels, pedals and handlebars as well as other assorted bike-parts wich he had unwittingly pulled along as he crashed through the truck. The driver of the truck quickly leapt out of it, deciding that he'd rather lose his cargo than his life, and Gwharr decided this was an oppurtunity he might take. He dropped the busdriver who had miraculously survived the ordeal unharmed, and just like the metal-armed man had said,the man ran away, as quickly as he could. He walked up to the truck, grabbing ahold of it, quickly heaving it over his head. Most of the onlookers had left the street now, wich left Gwharr enough room to hurl trucks without hitting innocents.

Said and done, Gwhar hurled the truck towards the man, and it rolled and thrashed a few of the other abandoned cars between the fighters, but despite the 'speed-bumps' It had more than enough power left to flatten the Iron-armed menace once and for all!

Vincent gave a triumphant grunt as his fist made contact. He blanked on the fact that the driver was still in the mans grasp. He grimaced as they went through a truck, though relieved to see the man running away from the scene mostly unharmed, along with the truck driver. The sound of metal twisting and groaning as the caveman came from the rubble surprised Vincent. He didn't even look like he had a scratch on him!

"How yah feeling, guy?" He said walking slowly towards the caveman, rotating his shoulder, stretching slightly as he approached. "You know, we can stop this any time!"

He stopped dead in his tracks as he watched the 7 foot behemoth lift the cargo truck over his head. "What the hell..." Vincent looked in awe as the rig flew towards him.

There wasn't time to move. He dug in and held out his arms, bracing for impact. The truck plowed into him, his metal arms scraping across the ground, sparks shooting out as he skidded for what seemed like an eternity.

He came to a stop and winced. "Hes stronger then I thought, heh." Vincent chuckled a bit before lifting the truck off of him and climbing from the debris. "That was pretty good!" He yelled, walking towards the man. Vincent spit out a bit of blood and wiped off his mouth. "Its gonna take more then that!"

He lifted a car with each, a Taurus in one and an Accord in the other. He flung the Honda at the cave man, followed shortly by the Ford. He ran towards the caveman as the red and blue missiles approached the brute with incredible speed.

The Primitive Primordial Protagonist heard the ironhanded man trying to say something before he hurled the truck, but he did not listen. The adrenal noise of the groaning metal and the the adrneal surge was more than enough to drown out whatever words the man might have had for him. He grunted as he doubled back and hurled the truck forward, feeling the bloodlust and will to fight surge through his system as the massive veichle left his hands! In a strange way the Massive Malplaced Moron felt at peace when fighting. There was no rules, no thinling brainyness to take into account. Just two men trying to beat eachother into a pulp! It was simple, it was exciting and in some way it was "as it should be.

Gwharr felt yet another tide of joy wash over him as the big truck skidded across the asphalt, smashing into his opponent, hopefully crushing him into a wet pulp on the ground. This should teach him to mess with Captain Caveman, King of the caverns beneath the "City of lights". The Gargantuan caveman enthusiastically clapped his hands, laughing at the demise of his supposed enemy, the entire display was filled with childish glee and an undadulterated joy of voilence and destruction. However, Gwharrs laughs and yelps of joy once again silenced as the man arrogantly sauntered out of the wreckage of the truck, seemingly no worse for wear. The only noticable change was that his metal arms where not as shiny as they had been before he had hurled a truck at him. Still, Gwharr was undaunted. He knew he would win this eventually. Every little scrape and bruise wore this man down slightly, whilst such injuries barely bothered him for more than a few seconds.

Gwharr cackled in abloodthirsty manner as the man spoke up again after climbing out of the wreckage, spitting out a logey of blood. Hah! First blood to him! This was a fact that he needed to make all the brave soul that was still within earshot aware of. "To see that Captain Caveman draw first blood, little man." he said, although, there was nothing hostile in his deep, booming voice. A bit of pride maybe, but no hidden jabs, insults or any mockery. He was merely stating the facts.

Gwharr readied himself, securing his footing as his opponenent picked up the cars from the ground, hurling them at him. He knew this tactic. He had used it multiple times himself, and he was good at it. He knew he would not be able to act fast enough to deflect the first car efficiently, so he instead put up his left arm in front of his face to absorbe the shock. Luckily, Gwharr was far tougher than the car was, and it shattered against him with minimal injuries done, and any miniscule scrapes or bruises dissapeared almost instantly. The second car was easier though. Gwharr almost carelessly slapped aside with his right hand, causing the twisted and battered veichle to smash into pieces against a brick wall. However, his eyes widened slightly when he saw how close his opponent had gotten. Due to his preoccupation with the cars he had failed to notice that his opponent was on the run! He quickly raised his fist, but he was not fast enough to put up his guard before the man had reached his position. . .

Vincent grinned as the caveman spoke. While he wasn't the brightest, he was obviously strong enough to put up a fight. "First blood doesn't mean anything!" He said as he ran behind the cars trajectory. He was enjoying himself, for the first time in a while. It was great to find someone who could hold their own.

The first car made contact, and he noticed the scratches close up almost immediately. "Thats a pretty nifty trick! Maybe you are worth my time." He said, as he slowed down for his strike. The second car struck, and Vincent reared back as he came close to his opponent. He clasped his fists together, and in one smooth, sledge hammer like motion, he swung up towards the brutes jaw.

Gwharr actually felt afraid when he realized that his ironhanded opponent 'had him on the ropes' so to speak. He quickly tried to raise his fists attempting to guard against the iron-handed man's blow, even though our hero immediately realized that he didn't have a chance to get his mitts up in time. He had simply been too focused on the car instead of keeping his eye on the source of his troubles. He cursed his lack of attention as he closed his eyes shut, anticipating the pain that would come as the blow connected. The Brutal, Boisterous Bruiser actually hated the moment before the pain more than the pain itself. since before the pain, he felt strangely vulnerable, due to the fact that he had no idea bad he would actually be hurt. After the brief pain, it took only a few seconds for everything to be back the way they where supposed to be. He knew how things were going to be then, and knowing made him feel safe. But the moment before th pain was uncertainty. He hated uncertainty.

Gwharr heard the loud bang before he realized that it was the collision of the metal hands with his jaw that was the origin of the sound. He immedieately felt two of his teeth being broken off and knocked back into his mouth. His jaw was was ablaze with pain, and he could taste the sweetly metallic taste of blood in his mouth. He felt his feet leaving the ground as he was knocked into the air. He was briefly seeing star, and felt as if he was weightless, but after only a second he felt gravity drag him back towards mother earth. Even though Gwharr wasn't a very skilled fighter, he was far more agile than any human, and landings were easy as pie. He landed on his hands and somerasaulted back, once again on his feet.

He snared viciously, baring his teeth, wich had just regrown, roaring at the man, smashing his fists together in a pointless show of physical strength and bloodlust! The man had gotten in a hit, and a good one at that, and it had hurt like hell, but it was over now. Gwharr had already all but recovered from all damage that had been dealt to him, and it was time for the Primitive, Preturbed, Primordial Protagonist to wreck vengence on his ironfisted competitor. Obviously the other guy was faster and more skilled than Gwharr was. Despite his weight he had managed to get close to the Angry, Atavistic, Apeman without him even noticing. After the display with the truck Gwharr had also realized that just standing around hurling cars at his opponent would be pointless. If a truck did nothing but scrape his painjob, then what use would the other cars be? No, this had to be solved through a direct assault! He quickly leapt forwards, using his superior range to punch the man, his left going a fraction of a second before the right one, so that he would have a hard time dodging two blows!