Enter The Dragons

I'm teaching my kids mixed martial arts. I don't like to talk about it much, but I am proficient in Kung Fu, Karate, Capoeira, and I am a master of the world MMA champion spawning Gracie family method of Jujitsu. She was always able to get George's goat (Old Guy Alert*).

I want the children to become deadly killing machines. Tiny harbingers of doom. Renders of flesh and tendon. Bone splintering, blood splattering, human threshers. Dark ninjas with eyes like black granite and souls like murky ponds. Beings capable of ending lives. Murdering mutha fuckas by the dozens.

Life long denizens of the Octagon. Knowing mercy as a disease and victories as common as breaths. Fists like steel pistons, kicks like sonic booms, fast and strong and smart like angry movie apes.

They will be Destroyers, Eaters of The Earth, The last thing scores of men will ever see.

They will free many souls from the bonds of the flesh.

They will learn how to be all these things. Then, when they're ready, I will lock them out in the backyard and finally let them work out their own bullshit. Kill or be killed, the winner gets the top bunk. Loser gets oblivion. Just stop screeching already.

I'm taking bets. Peanut's favored, but only 3:2. I think the Pman has a good chance of coming out on top. He' s younger and less coordinated, but he's not much smaller and he bites.


Really, they're pretty good kids, and they don't fight that much, but when they do, I just feel like wandering out into traffic. They're like two unreasonable, Machiavellian*, Howler monkeys.

If I had a fire hose at those moments, I'd stick it in my ear.

But those are the breaks I guess. Like I said, mostly, they're pretty good. And very loving. If only they could fight by telepathy. Or in someone else's house.

And, when I said I was proficient in martial arts, by proficient I meant "not proficient."

And it would be cool if the Peanut had crazy ninja skills, if only to see a 3 ft tall, 28.5 lb 4 year old girl with the ability to take out a grown man. If I saw that actually happen, I'd laugh about it the whole time I was in the hospital.

Also, I'd turn them into a deadly assassination team called "Strike Force Fuzzy Bunny."

HM

*Machiavellian refers to this: We'll be in the car and they'll both be yelling for something completely unreasonable at that time. Like, "Daddy, we want to be be home right now!"  Or "Daddy! We want ice cream topped with gold leaf ans served in the Ark of the Covenant!" 

And I'll say something to the effect of, "That enough! We are done talking about this. The next time someone mentions wanting ice cream with gold leaf served in the Ark of the Covenant, I am pulling over and giving that person a timeout right on the sidewalk!"

Then there will be a beat. Then after that beat you will hear the Pnut whisper, "Pumpkin man, ask daddy for the ice cream with gold leaf served in the ark of the covenant again." And if I don't catch it right away, the poor sucker'll do it. It's a goddamn shame, really.