Deon, however, was completely oblivious to everything that was happening outside of the ring. The referee had signaled for the two boys to begin their first round since all the bets had been placed, and on count two, rather than three, Spike charged Deon, determined to get the first hit in. He swung a right hook but Deon saw it coming from a mile away and ducked his head down with a smile on his smug face. Spike tried again with a come-back left hook but Deon put up his arm as a barrier, however the moment Spike's left hook made contact, he swung his right arm into another right hook and clipped Deon's jaw straight-away with his fist. The smile never left Deon's face though as Spike continued throwing right and left hooks, and all Deon did was back up a few steps watching the man swing his arms like an angry gorilla, miles away from it's mark. Finally when Deon had enough playing around, he caught Spike's left elbow with his hand and used his foot to trip the taller man to the ground and forced him to land on his hands and knees. Deon's opposite hand swung around and held Spike by the back of the neck, holding him in a position there.

"Nice hook." Deon taunted Spike and then let his grip go and backed away into the center of the ring where he had once been. Spike jumped up and charged Deon like an angry rhino and buried his head under Deon's arm, wrapping his arms around Deon's waist in an effort to lift him up and slam him down onto his back, but Deon's dense muscle gave him the advantage over the bigger guy and just had to push his body weight down onto Spike's bent-over back to collapse Spike down onto his chest on the mat. Deon pushed Spike's face into the mat even harder after that, rewarding the taller man's futile efforts with a simple bitch slap across the face that the crowd seemed to love.

Spike got back up though, and saw that one of the people in the crowd had their arms through the bars. It wasn't too much, they were just holding themselves there with a red solo cup half-full of some kind of liquid in it, but it was just what Spike needed. Instead of attacking Deon straight on again, he slapped the cup out of the man's hand, spraying Deon's face and chest with the warm beer and in the couple seconds that Deon couldn't see, began hooking right and left once more and beating the hell out of Deon's face.

Deon just backed up a few feet though and pointed at Spike, laughing,

"Ahhhh..." He shook his head and smiled, giving him kudo's for playing dirty. "...that, that was a cheap one..." He went around the cage and slapped high-fives to those close enough to put their hands through. "...but you are good; you've got a good center of gravity." He commended. "But that old school boxing shit...that, that just doesn't fly around here...not with me. You gotta mix it up." Deon had circled back to Spike and just as he finished speaking, he ran the couple of feet towards Spike and like a football punter, brought back his right leg and kicked the weak point of Spike's knee on the side, nearly causing the tall man to fall back down.

"Stings right? I bet it does." Deon threw his fist forward and Spike brought up his hands to block, but that was only a distraction and Deon sent his leg kicking at Spike's leg once again, hitting the same spot but on the opposite side. Spike managed to keep his balance, but it was obvious that he was now favoring that leg and had to hop around a bit to keep his balance.

"Aww, your leg's all jacked up. Can't put any weight on it maybe?" Deon charged again, clotheslining Spike around his center which brought Spike down hard onto his back. Deon circled Spike as he tried to get up, and by the time he was able to get onto one knee, he noticed that Deon was standing straight above him and looking down on him.

"And now for the bad news...it's gotta end...with you looking like a bitch." Deon smiled broadly. Rage infused, Spike shot up onto his good leg, using the momentum to swing his arm around to get in a good shot but again, Deon saw it coming and grabbed Spike around the arm and twisted it, sending Spike flipping over Deon's arm and back onto the ground. Now like a turtle stuck on it's back, Deon hopped over to get on top of Spike and swung both arms, alternating punching out Spike's face.

The crowd went wild and Deon got off of Spike, giving the man a chance to get back up.

"Oh c'mon. It's not over, get up. Get up!"

Spike tried to get up, but again Deon only gave him the chance to get onto his knees before Deon sent out a round-house kick straight into Spike's face sending him flying a good few feet and down onto his chest, knocked completely unconscious.

Deon turned back to his crowd and lifted his arms up high in victory, shouting and screaming with them, reveling in both the glory and the knowledge that there would be no round two.