​     Hoby's response to that smack to the jaw ​was one of total rage. It was no good swinging on Dwight's chest or shoulders. This behemoth was just too damned big. Hoby went for his face and gut and balls. If he spotted a chance to take a shot at Dwight's jaw or eye or neck, he'd swing at it as hard and as fast as he could. He became like a jackhammer. BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! Dwight raised his arms as a shield, so Hoby went for Dwight's stomach. Not that it seemed to do much good. Dwight's stomach muscles were rock hard. Hoby tired, but he refused to cut back on the pace of his blows. The way he figured it, the second he did, Dwight would let go with a haymaker of his own, and that would have been the end of the match. 

     So Hoby kept thrashing away.   

CONTINUE