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The year is 1991. Europe is seeing the first rays of hope of a world beyond the crippling Cold War. The mighty Soviet Union, The Evil Empire, is in it's final death spasms.

But deep in the Norwegian woods, in the extreme North, crammed up against a tiny stretch of border separating the tiny country from it's massive enemy in the east, only darkness exists. Deep into the winter, the sun has not been seen in two month. The band of soldiers tasked with guarding this tiny strip, hundreds of miles removed from anything resembling civilization persists in extreme cold and everlasting darkness. Ever vigilant knowing that the fall of the mighty giant might spark any number of unknown dangers in the frozen East they are tasked with monitoring.

Without a dawn there is no dusk and the passing of days becomes a formality, the land is dark, it is cold, it is frozen and it is deserted. Pitted together in this wasteland, a band of men, not a dozen to the number persist. They patrol the vacant lands, maintain their weapons, sleep when they can it is always night anyway, and for entertainment? A TV, a VCR, a huge selection of highly questionable pornographic movies and a NES. In this harsh and remote world, a constant battle rages between man and nature, but an even fiercer battle has been raging for months.

The battle started in the summer nights, the joyous hours of the midsummer when the land smiles at everyone who venture to this remotest of places. The sun forever locked in the sky, the night a distant memory. No time passes as the sun sits overhead all 24 hours of the day. Nature is plentiful in these times, sharing it's endless bounty and beauty. But in this world, a fight has begun. It is not much of a fight in the beginning, a Frenchman with neither skill nor courage is first to fall, in the very first moments of the battle. But they keep coming, one more powerful than the next, but always with a weakness to exploit.

And so the battle has raged now for months. The Russian son proved to be a tough hurdle, but over the months I have learned every detail of his ways. I can brush his drunken assaults away with the same ease that I dismiss the pathetic Frenchman. No foe poses a threat to me anymore, except one. For the past two months, Mike Tyson has proved an insurmountable obstacle. A giant adversary that gives off the air of complete invincibility. His punches so fast it's superhuman. His power so devastating it feels as if you will never be the same if he lays but one glove on you. When you counter one of his insane uppercuts and unleash your own flurry of punishment, your tiny hands doesn't even dent the jaw of the monster, Kid Dynamite, Iron Mike Tyson.

Two months have led up to this day. Two months of endless frustration, self doubt, hopelessness. Two months of working for hours only to be destroyed in the blink of an eye. But on this day, in the frozen nothingness something is different. I am in a state of extreme focus. My dodges; extremely crisp. My reactions; faster than I though possible. My counter punches; still weak as hell. But the fight goes on, I am the bee. Mike Tyson can not catch me. He swings, I dodge, I land my taps and get out. The fight is no longer than any other fight, but it seems to go on forever. Into the third round, Iron Mike is hurt. He can't touch me. Still, I know and expect that any punch will be the last. In fury, Tyson unleashes punches that are beyond what you could imagine could exist in the
world, but I dodge. I tap. And then, the monster falls. For the third time. Mario declares me the winner like it's no big deal. But I have beat Mike Tyson.