get about as oiled as a diesel train, gonna set this dance alight

[spah]

Welp. The kid wanted to spar.

Engineer didn't know much about Scout's background, but he could take a few guesses. Being from Boston, the kid probably learned how to scrap there. Probably never learned to throw a proper punch. While Dell wasn't a hard stickler about technique when it came to a fight, he figured it would probably do Scout some good.

So why the hell not?

He managed to dry off and get his overalls back on by the time he was ready. No shirt this time -  just overalls and some chest hair. The natural Texan.

"Alright. Tell me whatcha know, for starters."

Comments

[sexbom]

[Scout's stomping away like a toddler until he hears Engie's words. YES. YES HE WANTS TO KNOW. Slowly, he turns.]

Fine, but if you tell anyone, you're dead meat. In your sleep.

[spah]

Dead meat in my sleep. Got it.

[he's so threatened]

Come back here already and I'll show ya.

[sexbom]

[Scout's shoulders slump and he turns on his heel. The dirt moves along with his scuffed sneakers.]

Don't hit so hard! But yeh, show me.

[Scout goes back to his Dukes Up position, like a pugilist of old tymey times.]

[spah]

If I didn't hit hard, you wouldn't've cared. Alright, first part's gettin' your stance down.

[Engineer moves next to Scout. He widens his feet out to a shoulder-length apart with one toe pointed forward, the other about 45 degrees outwards.]

You ain't always gonna get the chance to get your form perfect, but the basics help. Keeps you upright, and keeps the other sumbitch from throwin' your keister off-balance. Stay loose while you're at it. Don't tighten up.

[sexbom]

[Scout looks uncomfortable at Engie being so close to him, but pays attention.]

How'ma gonna remember to stand a certain way when shit's going down?

[He's complaining because he knows that whenever they go into town, Heavy usually keeps the fighty people away.]

[spah]

Practice. Like I said, you ain't always gonna get a chance to get it perfect when hell's comin' down. That's what muscle memory's for.

[Engineer brings both hands up.]

Alright. Elbows down. Wrists straight. Chin tucked. Keep your knees bent, legs loose.

[He gives Scout a chance to copy him. Then he steps forward, turning around to face the younger merc, and gets back to the same stance - palms out for Scout to hit. Don't worry, he'll let you deck him back later.]

Now, you're gonna wanna step into your punches. Move with your moves, if you get my meanin'. Give it a shot.

[sexbom]

[If anyone were watching, Scout would say something smartass and kick Engie in the balls. But no one is around, and Engie is being... well, he's being Engie. And that's damn charming. He's like a father-- not like Scout's father. The man who left all those boys to be raised by one woman. She did it though, she showed him.]

I get it, I get it.

[Where were we? Oh! Scout copies Engineer's stance perfectly. Growing up with his brothers, he knew how to shadow a person pretty well. Engie puts his hands out and Scout throws a punch with his right hand, square in the palm. It's not perfect, but it's hard enough.]

[spah]

[Technically, good dads don't sucker punch you in the gut, even in 1968. But he'd appreciate it anyway. Thanks, buddy.

Engineer definitely notices how well Scout mirrors him. He grins as Scout punches into his palms. Goddamn. He even makes a show of rubbing his hands. Not that he had to fake it. It was a damn good punch. Just, you know, he can't feel anything in the Gunslinger.]

Cream gravy. Nice work, string bean. Feels a little better, don't it?

[sexbom]

[Don't ask Scout about his dad. He'll probably lie, say the guy beat him. Or that he was an astronaut. One shade or another, depending on the day. The truth was that Scout didn't know how a dad acted. Which is why he tried to hang around Engineer.

Scout laughs, mostly at 'cream gravy' paired with string bean. Sounded delicious.]

Yeh, yeh, it does. Who should I try it out on first?