Bertha Vep's Skateboard Smackdown
The midday sun beat down on Mynaville, its rays glinting off the polished chrome of Bertha Vep's skateboard. The city, a vibrant tapestry woven with the lives of anthropomorphic animals, hummed with its usual frenetic energy. Bertha, a blue bird with feathers the color of a summer sky and eyes that glittered with mischief, weaved effortlessly through the throngs of pedestrians – squirrels rushing to their nut shops, badgers haggling over prices at the fishmonger's, and foxes chatting animatedly on their phones. Skateboarding was her escape, her meditation, her rebellion. The city was her canvas, and the smooth pavement, her brushstrokes.
Today's destination: the Redwood Ramp, Mynaville's premier skate park. Bertha envisioned herself nailing that elusive 360-degree ollie she'd been practicing. The wind whipped through her feathers as she glided along, the rhythm of her wheels a counterpoint to the city's symphony of sounds.
That rhythm was abruptly shattered. Rounding a corner, Bertha found herself confronted by a wall of muscle and menace. They were the Razorbacks, a notorious gang led by a scarred raccoon named Razor, a creature whose reputation for violence preceded him. His gang was a motley crew: a hulking boar with tusks like daggers, a sneering ferret with eyes like chips of obsidian, and a trio of weasels whose shifty glances hinted at their unsavory deeds.
Razor stepped forward, his shadow falling over Bertha. His voice, gravelly and menacing, sliced through the air. "Well, well, well," he sneered, a cruel grin splitting his scarred face. "What have we here? A little bluebird straying from her nest?"
Bertha's heart hammered against her ribs, but she refused to flinch. She met Razor's gaze with unwavering resolve, her grip tightening on her skateboard. "Just passing through," she replied, her voice surprisingly steady.
Razor chuckled, a sound devoid of humor. "Passing through? I think not. This little bird looks like a tasty morsel for the Razorbacks." The gang closed in, their menacing forms encircling her. This wasn't a casual confrontation; this was a planned ambush.
Bertha knew she couldn't outrun them. Her only hope was to outfight them. With a swift, practiced movement, she flipped her skateboard into her hands, its smooth wooden surface transforming into a makeshift weapon. The ferret, the quickest of the bunch, lunged, his claws extended. Bertha reacted instantly, the skateboard whistling through the air as she smacked the ferret across the face. He yelped, tumbling onto the pavement, his attack thwarted.
The others hesitated, momentarily stunned by Bertha's unexpected ferocity. This wasn't the helpless little bird they'd expected. "Who's next?" Bertha challenged, her voice ringing with defiance.
The boar charged, a snorting behemoth. Bertha sidestepped, the skateboard deflecting his clumsy blow. She used her agility to her advantage, her years of skateboarding translating into a whirlwind of motion. She weaved, she ducked, she countered, her skateboard a blur of wood and motion. Each hit was precise, each movement calculated.
The weasels, initially confident, were now hesitant, their attacks sloppy and ineffective. Bertha’s skill was undeniable. The fight was a ballet of controlled chaos, a symphony of grunts, yelps, and the rhythmic thud of skateboard against flesh.
Razor, watching his gang crumble before this unexpected adversary, felt a surge of unexpected anger. He charged, intending to end the fight swiftly. Bertha anticipated his movement; she rolled under his clumsy swipe, then, with a powerful kick, she sent her board soaring. It struck Razor squarely in the chest, knocking the wind out of him.
He staggered back, his face a mask of surprise and humiliation. His gang, battered and bruised, were no longer a menacing force. They were a scattered, defeated pack.
"You...you'll regret this," Razor sputtered, his voice strained. He backed away, his gang trailing behind him, their tails tucked low.
Bertha watched them retreat, the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. She took a deep breath, the city sounds slowly returning to her ears. She picked up her board, its surface slightly scuffed but otherwise undamaged, a silent testament to the battle just fought. With a final glance at the retreating Razorbacks, she pushed off, the wheels rolling smoothly once more. The Redwood Ramp awaited, and the 360-degree ollie was still on her mind. But today, it felt like more than just a trick; it was a celebration of victory, a testament to her courage and skill. The city was still her playground, but now, she was its undisputed queen.
Keywords
story
14,344,
multiple characters
10,842,
fight
5,842,
fighting
4,943,
fanfiction
3,040,
brawl
119,
beatdown
11,
smackdown
9,
brawling
7,
dmynaleagues
5,
dmyna leagues
5,
berthavep
2,
bertha vep
2
Details
Published:
2 months, 3 weeks ago
19 Apr 2025 23:40 CEST
Initial: 19529fe3eb8389e11f6b4946c7882064
Full Size: 5d49ce9507d2e7c90b61aba3388852b2
Large: cdf461744dea740b51a95de27f3a0102
Small: 4ddb00fe1bc6de3f79702257947c7a76
Stats
8 views
0 favorites
0 comments
