It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Grog Strongjaw, a goliath barbarian . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, From the sidelines, Scanlan yells inspiration at you and Cutting Words at Kern. Keyleth attempts to heal you from a distance, but gets caught by a nearby Bastion.
DM: Okay. So, you rush forward with your leg (whoomph) he manages to duck out of the way, bringing his knee up to the side. Comes down to try and get ready for the next attack; however, you already used that inertia of the kick to bring your fist down (whack) right across the front of his face. Go ahead and roll damage.
Player: That's an eight.
DM: Eight. All right. Okay, and the third strike, you come out to follow that up with a full combo, at which point however, he reaches out, (clutching noise) grabs the sides of your wrists with both of his hands and brings it down to where you're now face-to-face again, left at his mercy at this point. You're off-balance and led towards him. It's Kern's turn. Kern is going to reach back and attempt to headbutt you in the front. That is a 21.
Player: That hits.
DM: That is an 11.
Player: Misses.
DM: And that's going to be a 22.
Player: That hits.
DM: Just (whack) headbutts you right square in the face. You reel back from it. He goes to headbutt again. This time you duck out of the way. However, at that point, he pulls you closer in towards him, still holding your wrists to his side, and he headbutts you a third time. So, the first headbutt does nine points of damage, and the other one does seven points of damage.
Player: Okay.
DM: (whack, whoosh, whack) Pulling you in, this time releasing you from the sheer impact, pushing you back onto your feet. It's your go.
Player: Am I back to the wall?
DM: You're pretty close to the wall, yeah.
Player: I'd like to take a step back, put my back foot on the wall, and then push off into the air with a huge overhand right.
DM: Nice! Okay, pushing off in the air and arcing down with the fist.
Player: That's a 22.
DM: 22 hits.
Player: Eight points of damage.
DM: Eight points of damage. All righty.
Player: And then I say, you were supposed to be the only lipless one. And I soccer ball the shit out of those dimes between his legs. Nice! 25.
DM: 25, that definitely hits.
Player: That is seven.
DM: All righty. (whack) With another screeching (howls in pain) your foot immediately cracks right. You've now repeatedly pummeled him into his man-bits, and you can see there is a dark stain in his trousers when you pull your foot back. You've definitely drawn blood in his nether regions.
