Just recently, I missed Sven, two solid punches, and now I claw me in the back of his neck on the T-Shirt collar, pulling him close to me ran, my sweat wet his temple to his, and ramming him with my right knee between the legs. “And one more time. Fixed! I can’t feel anything!”, yells Sven. So good, yet once the knee, then I pull him to the ground. “And now, you no longer compete once again, on the ankle, so I get up really,” says Sven.

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