๏ธโฏโ ๐น๐๐๐๐๐๐๐. ๐ผ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐. ๐ฝ๐๐๐๐๐๐.
โ โโฏโ โ๐๐ฎ ๐๐๐จ๐ฉ๐จ ๐๐๐ซ๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช๐ง ๐๐ก๐ค๐ค๐ ๐ค๐ฃ ๐ฉ๐๐๐ข.โโโฏโ
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Oh hey, it's Balrog. He's lurking alone with boxing robe hood pulled over his eyes, eating from a bag of cherries he got from a nearby casino and frustratingly muttering something to himself.
The boxer looked back, his primary colored hoodie covered the eyes of one who memorized a familiar face.
"Well, I'll be damned. If it ain't Killer Bee herself. Must've been a while since my fist last met 'ya."
"Oh look! It's the Raging Buffalo...what are you doing in my neck of the woods Balrog?"
Cammy would give a glance at the American Boxer. She used to work alongside him at one point in time, nowadays they usually go at it on sight due to one reason or another