The Gladiator walks into the arena amidst the baying crowds. The crowd is whipped into a frenzy, screaming, spitting, gums bearing, whilst obscenities litter the air. After what seemed like an hour, the commotion subsides, the Gladiator although standing tall, has a slight wilt to his frame. He is defiant, yet already somehow he is wounded, maybe a stray stone, maybe just by the constant verbal assault from the crowd.
After a short while, there is silence, clouds pass over the sun and the slight breeze has become stronger to almost gale force then all is still. The trap door containing the Lion opens and it strides out with purpose. Sweat dripping from the Gladiators brow drips into his eyes blinding him temporarily; it’s at this moment the Lion pounces. One strike and the Gladiator is mauled, he falls to the ground and the Lion stands triumphant. It is all over very quickly, just as it begun.